First we get to the shop, escalate our way past the toys and makeup to our destination. Picking out the perfect combination of size, quality, and price didn't take long at all. That was the last easy part.
We waited for what seemed an eternity until a gentleman made himself visible and offered to help. He wrote down the two screens we wanted. And immediately another customer approached us. Her English was sub par as she held up a card. "It's fine," was the only response we could get out of her as to why she kept following us around the store. The gentleman returned and gave us a small slip to take to the other side of the store. Again card-woman followed us. We hand the slip to another employee. She deciphers the message while Dan confronts the card-holding stalker. It appeared she wanted to use her card on our purchase. As I stared straight ahead at the counter, Dan verbally informed the woman of our disinterest in her assistance. She mulled around, either confused by the resounding no, or waiting for us to change our minds. Eventually she scurried off.
At this point, the teller had fulled deciphered the chicken scratch and led us back to our original waiting point. As we tried to communicate how two separate people were paying for two separate tvs with two separate cards, a very kind older man approached us. He acted as a sort of translator and assistant to our adventure. We asked about our stalker, how had positioned herself within eyesight, ever watching us. He confirmed our conclusion that she was crazy and we didn't want her help. After we had paid, the tellers gave us 4-5 different receipts. Luckily we had our English side-kick, to inform us of each of their meanings. One was simply just that, a receipt, another was a copy of that receipt. A white one apparently was our one year warranty. The last yellow one was our television, sort of.
We had to take our yellow slip down to the first floor, around the corner to a booth that appeared to be straight out of a small town carnival game. As we had the man our slip, he also requires our white one. But only mine. He retreats down a small hole in the floor, and lowers an elevator out of sight. We can't see him, nor can we hear him over the roar of the television on the counter. It appears to be large men dressed as space babies putting on a play. By the cued laughter, we came to the conclusion that it was supposed to be funny. The roar of the elevator starts, and it creeps upward into sight. Side by side are two oblong boxes awaiting to be opened and discarded for the treasure inside. The man was kind enough to open them for us to show that they were indeed television sets. Dan's prize works wonderfully. It is loaded back into the treasure chest of a box. It was almost if he simultaneously cut the power to the entire store as he cut the tape from my box. It was worth the wait to make sure my product was in working order.
The man pointed out the carrying handles as we struggled to understand how we were to carry our precious purchases. The boxes made it safely out to the door, before mine had to be set down to get a better grip. Yellow-ticket-taker-man appears from nowhere and gives us a hand across the street where we wait for a taxi. As we stand with our arm outstretched, land rovers and sedans drive by, each with plenty of room for us and more importantly our stuff. Each drove past, until a small car pulled up with a smiling driver agreeing to take us to Zaisan. The seats had to be adjusted, the boxes twisted and turned, and with knees in my chest, we fit everything into the car. As we got closer to home, the feeling in my feet crept away. The lack of feeling worked its way up to my knees, snuggled tightly into the dashboard. After we pulled in the gate and agreed on a fare, our task was finally complete. Even though I didn't help carry the television as was initially asked of me, Dan and I had successfully killed two birds with one interesting and at times awkward stone.
