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Aug '09
29

When you run out of money…

This post is part of a series of travelogues narrating my trip to Russia. Here are the other posts!
« Previous post: Sochi port and romance on the road

How I ran out of money in spite of having lots of it; and how I saved my ass.

Sochi… glittering up for 2014 Winter Olympics Sochi… glittering up for 2014 Winter Olympics

I was not sure of writing this post since after reading it you might think that I have earned a masters degree in mismanaging money on my travels (Blogged earlier: running out of money in Bhutan). I went to Sochi with lots of cash – some roubles and lots of dollars. Exchanging money is very very easy in Russia, there are banks and private booths all over the place, so I was comfortable with my dollars. Unfortunately the dollars I was carrying were… Canadian. :D In a completely hopeless situation like that in India, people would simply go to a store and get money against a fake purchase on their credit card.

Since when did CAD become a universal currency? I completely missed that fact that Sochi, unlike Moscow, is a small town and may not have a CAD exchange.

My credit cards did not work in the bank machine for some reason, nor did my debit cards. It was a real panicy situation, since I had only about RUR 1000 (USD 50) and I needed atleast RUR 2500 (USD 125) for a comfortable 2 day stay (Sochi is somewhat expensive).

In a completely hopeless situation like that in India, people would simply go to a store and get money against a fake purchase on their credit card. The store owner would keep a hefty percentage of this transaction as his commission, but atleast your ass got saved. I decided to try the same in Sochi.

So a foreigner who barely spoke the local language was going to ask a storekeeper to cheat, using a credit card issued in another foreign country.

It might sound like a ridiculously impossible feat, but somehow it happened. :)

: : :

I went inside a swanky apparel store near the Sochi waterfront. Walking straight to the cashier, (wo)manned by two young girls who are addressed as Devushka (like Señorita in Spanish) I had the following conversations in Russian:

Me: Hello devushka, do you speak English?
Her: Not at all!
Me: Okay, I speak some Russian, I will try. Help me please. I have a credit card and some Canadian dollars, but I have no Russian money. In bank, no exchange Canadian dollars…. bad… So I have no Roubles. I am thinking, maybe you give me some roubles… I have credit card of American dollars.

Apparently such ‘tricks’ are not popular. OR they did not understand anything I said.

Plan B.

I picked up a shirt and asked if I could pay by credit card.
She: Yes, RUR 800.
Me: Ok, so this cost RUR 800. Maybe I give RUR 1000 on credit card. Then you give me RUR 200. You understand?
I tried saying that atleast five times in different ways. Finally the girls talked to each other and understood what I was trying to say.

She: umm.. okay.
Me: Can you give me more money?
She: Yes, how much do you want?
Me: I will need RUR 1000
She: Okay, so the total is RUR 1800.

I had no intent of buying anything. The girls were about to lose patience, I thought.

Me: I no buy shirt, but I buy socks, is that okay?
She: Ok, but you dont want the shirt?
Me: No, I just need money, roubles.
She: Ahhh now I understand. No problem, I can give you money. Don’t buy anything.

And thus after struggling at the counter for 15 minutes, using every possible word I knew in Russian, surrounded by other employees who had stopped their work to watch, they finally agreed to give me money against a fake purchase on my credit card. :)

Me: What time store close?
She: At 8
Me: That’s late, I want to buy you coffee. Because you help me.
She: No, no need. *blush*
Me: Please, I want to buy for you.
(Oh, what an un-gentlemanly language… I wish I knew more words…)
She: Okay there is Mc Donalds outside

Ah, McDonalds! Probably the most favorite restaurant in Russia (more about it later)!

I bought four coffees for all of them and left the store with my pockets full and an ear to ear smile on my face. First thing to do now was to go to a Georgian food joint and eat some Caucasian food. I shuddered at the thought of what would have happened if the girls didn’t help me.

Khachapuri (Georgian food) – Bread filled with cheese. Khachapuri (Georgian food) – Bread filled with cheese.

Yet another example of outstanding helpful nature, tremendous patience and modesty shown by ordinary Russians. Their gesture completely swept me off my feet – they had stopped their work to listen to a foreigner asking for an outrageous obligation, without getting frustrated. Salutes.

This post is part of a series of travelogues narrating my trip to Russia. Here are the other posts!
« Previous post: Sochi port and romance on the road

Related posts

  • Wow, I am in Moscow! (17)
  • Tomb of the Unknown Soldier (19)
  • The Kremlin at Suzdal (7)
  • The Charming Onion Domes (15)
  • Stolovaya No. 17 (23)

¶ Blogged by Priyank Thatte | Tags: Russia, Stories

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Nov '05
18

All in a day…

Can you imagine doing things as diverse as one, appearing for TOEFL exam at Saki-Vihar, two, relishing sizzlers at Andheri and three sipping tea at a shanty in Matheran – all in less than a day? I narrate today’s story while wriggling in my chair stuffed with soft pillows to position my sore butt and wondering how the human mind can work in such a bizarre manner.

I turn up with my friend Vaibhav at the TOEFL test centre off Saki Vihar Road near Sakinaka. After we emerge triumphant (I scored 260-297 / 300) at around noon, we notice our gastric juices already grumbling against the lack of availability of anything to consume. Some serious deliberations completed and we land at Kobe’s, near Marol, Andheri, a place better known for its sizzlers. (Courtesy Seema). A Sizzling Chicken with Pepper and a small dose of rice almost suffice our appetite; nevertheless we still plan to hang out at Pizza hut or Galleria at Hiranandani, Powai.

Stopping at Sakinaka signal, Vaibhav suggests that we go to Matheran on his bike. I’m initially stunned to hear this, but I agree immediately, and in no time we change the course towards Matheran. A two hour drive on occasionally smooth road takes us at Dasturi and by four in the evening; we are sipping tea at a shanty near ‘Welcome to Matheran’ railway platform.

We find ourselves on a pleasant short break from the routine life in the arms of Matheran, the smallest hill station in the world, a unique location barely 100 km away from Mumbai and a place where entry of vehicles is prohibited. At five thirty we depart after stocking ourselves with some chikki and wild honey and we reach outskirts of Dombivli by seven in late evening.

I am usually a time-table kind of guy but often exhibiting such sudden bursts. Glad to know Vaibhav too gets his kicks by similar fashion, no surprises – ‘Birds of a feather flock together’ as he better puts it. I must once again acknowledge his superior driving skills – to which I’m totally used to – but today he drove almost 200 km which calls for a seven gun salute.

Now tackling the itchy hair that have housed probably a kilo of dust and dirt. Special note: If you notice me raising my posterior and resting it down again, that doesn’t mean I’m farting, but I’m simply trying to make it comfortable.

Related posts

  • When you run out of money… (25)
  • Toronto Tuesday: 01.10 (27)
  • Toronto Tuesday: 01.05 (23)
  • Toronto Tuesday 01.21 (8)
  • Toronto Biking (12)

¶ Blogged by Priyank Thatte | Tags: Bike, Hill Station, Mumbai, Stories

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