In Front of Moscow Train Station

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My 2010 journey
In front of Moscow Train Station in St. Petersburg

The sky was still gloomy, and I still had no certain plan. I was looking for post office to deliver postcards to my friends. But I lost in the city immediately.

I saw two people with arm-bands in front of Moscow train station (It’s a terminal station named after the destination). One was a blond hair young male and the other was a brown hair female. Both wore a jacket with words “Do You Need Help?” I guessed they were volunteers of some organization.

I walked to the girl to inquire where the post office was. The young boy seemed to be helping other somewhere. I cannot speak Russian, so English was the only language I could use now. The girl was not very tall and felt little shy when I asked her. She replied me: “sorry for my poor English” with a blush.

I felt some kind of status differences from her timidness. I didn’t like this…..I wanted to say “please don’t say sorry, it’s just a language and I don’t speak well neither”. But I didn’t. Because I knew it’s better to completely ignore this feeling. The consciousness itself was a prejudice.

She made some phone calls, and leafed her books simultaneously. I wasn’t sure she did this for me until she showed me the way on the book, and guided me the direction, with minimum words but more body language and friendly smiles. I cast a glance at her open bag at her foot. It looked some reference books for helping visitors.

Then we had a short talk. I appreciated her kindly help. However I still wasn’t sure was it a charge service? So I inquired her about this. I thought even if it really was, it’s quite fair to pay. The girl replied me an unbelievable number, with her bashful smile.

I was confused. I asked her again to confirm: “You mean you help me and then I have to pay you such a lot of cash?” “Are you sure?” The girl was nodding but her face was little puzzled. And then I said “It’s ridiculous!” “It’s just a small favor and is never supposed cost so much”. I was very angry, and left nothing for her. I didn’t look her but I knew she seemed upset.

The direction was wrong. At last, I found the post office on my own. The kindly female clerk led me through some rooms in the 3rd story of the ancient building as across an old maze to a small store-like room, where looked like for coping with delivering mails. The “post office” I found was only to receive mails.

After I sent my cards to friends in Taiwan, China, and Japan, my anger had ebbed gradually and then I started to wonder…..I didn’t think they really intended to earn money from me….

I walked back to the vicinity of station. After a short hesitation, I decided to ask her again. I didn’t want to leave this city with such a bad feeling.

The other young male was there now. He greeted me with a friendly smile. His English was good, and I explained the puzzles in mind. The girl replied me in big astonishment. “No! How possible!” The young man added “That’s our salary per day!” We all laughed. I said “I am so sorry!” “I apologize for my misunderstanding!” She grinned and said sorry again because she didn’t catch on my words.

No, I was so rude. I felt shame on myself. So far from misunderstanding the people who helped me, I shouted to them. How foolish I was? And how arrogant I was to comment on the language difference? Maybe I am the person with ridiculous bias without any consciousness. I had many lessons to learn.

On the other hand, I was happy I walked back to figure out the truth. I gave myself a chance to save the bad impression, to save my poor mind.

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