Market day.

---

I took my last saturday morning trip to the market today. It was busy as usual and the stalls had even spread onto the grass next to the road, as there wasn't enough space for everyone to take a place on the side of the street. I wanted to buy a lot, souvenirs so to speak and things that you could only find in a Russian 'rynok'.

I chose two corduroy flat caps for 650 roubles; as always they looked better on the rack than on my head but they remind me so much of the Russian people that I couldn't just walk past them. It was t-shirt weather today but there wouldn't be another chance to buy real winter clothes. The grey one would go with my overcoat, the light brown one with my woolly jumper. In the clothes market I found a red CSKA Moscow basketball jersey with 'Holden 10' on the back which would at least made a good pajama or gym shirt.

On one side of the street the stalls are almost entirely made up of war supplies (gas masks, helmets...) and communist memorabilia that people are now trying to make a profit from. The medals and badges are good to look at and to wonder where they came from, but I wouldn't like to own one any. I found a rusty coffee mug with both a hammer and sickle symbol and a communist star painted onto it. There is even a small cold war missile near the handle. A babushka was selling Russian passport covers and I bought one for ten roubles to use as a wallet.

Liisa was transfixed by the cheaper stalls; junk that the babushki sell for five roubles that I'm sure still means a lot to them. The longer I stay in Russia the more I empathise with the elderly, the very poorest of which have to give away their memories and pride to buy a loaf of bread. They try very hard to make a good sales pitch but I have always refused. What is twenty roubles to me, even if I don't need a babies' vest? Elsewhere there are millions of things to buy, plug sockets, cups and saucers, volleyballs, carpets, black market DVDs, tons of books, rabbits and chicks in small boxes. Everyone was cheerful today. Liisa bought some plastic flowers for her new flat in Helsinki, Ella found a strappy top that the women wouldn't give her without my approval.

The inside food hall is just as busy and just as interesting. There are kiosks that sell fresh bread and juice, tables with strawberries, fruit and vegetables, salads, and bags of spices with the names written on a scrap of paper next to them.

Liisa's mum had come to visit from Petersburg and they invited some of us to have lunch with them in their kitchen. She used to work as Vladimir Putin's Russian to Finnish interpreter so we all had questions for her about what oral translation involves. It is very hard work and isn't for people who are nervous or who get frustrated when they make mistakes, so now I know two more things that I have to work on next year. As soon as the bottle of champagne was opened the conversation became more light hearted, and my essay-writing was forgotten until the evening. Before I sat down to work I walked around the town again - I have just begun to realise that I am looking at the places and buildings that I take for granted for the very last time.

---