Sensual Shopping

Colorful, hand-painted matryoshkas of various sizes and prices, raccoon and fox fur hats, fine goats hair scarves and garments, Soviet-era maps, music boxes, precious stones, watches, antiques, icons, Faberge eggs, books, photographs, wooden toys, dead animals' heads; some beautiful, some not so beautiful, all enclosed in the walls of Ismailovsky Market. It lived up to its reputation as a Russian souvenir shopper’s paradise, as my two companions filled their bags with gifts for their families back home.

It wasn't as crowded as it usually is in the summer with the hordes of tour groups around Moscow – that season is over for the next few months, and colder, despite the mid-October afternoon clear skies. The merchandise, shops and sales people had not changed much, although this time I came across two African salesmen I hadn't seen on my previous visits. One of them from Congo at a shop selling products made of malachite, was an extremely gregarious character who addressed me as his “sister”, and did his best to get us a generous discount for a set of Matryoshkas from his neighbor’s stall. We had a good laugh as he playfully engaged with the woman in an argument about giving away the merchanidise. “Are you husband and wife?” I ask. He said they weren't, but added that the woman was in love with him, which gave place to more glee as he playfully teased, hugged and kissed her. We thanked them both for their help and moved on.

It is a short walk from Partizanskaya metro station, included on the tour of metro stations organized by the Museum of Architecture in Moscow.  The station deserves more than a perfunctory glance to admire the rectangular columns and the two gigantic statues on the platform commemorating a male and female Soviet hero and heroine. Another monument to party militants and workers stands high atop a pedestal in the vestibule - people with their work tools, weapons and ammunition, heavily protected in thick winter coats beautifully molded in solid bronze. Outside, the street leading to the market always seems busy with people on their way there, to the adjacent shopping mall or hotels in the area, or to the Kremlin for a wedding ceremony.

We paid the ten-ruble entrance fee at the gate and walked in. Our first stop was at a stand with several knick-knacks, among them a few metal tea boxes. Rusty, dented and unable to close properly, they certainly were antiques. The salesman eagerly informed us that the oldest one dated from 1840, as the date on the box testified, and it looked like it was from that era. It cost five thousand rubles – more than a hundred dollars. A slightly newer one was said to date from 1920. We showed little interest in that one and were not informed of the price. I hadn't shown any interest in any of the boxes, my friends chose not to spend that kind of money, so we thanked the man for his kindness and walked on past more and more matryoshkas of various shapes, sizes, glitter, colors and appearances.

We gravitated to a stand of very nicely decorated compact mirrors which had captured our interest. Affordable, they seemed to be the perfect gifts from Moscow for female friends. We spent a few minutes there looking at different ones and bought a few. We were drawn to another shop that sold Christmas decorations. They were worth having as they differed from the usual ornaments I had seen outside of Russia. Beyond the market walls from that stall, you could see the colorful turrets of the Ismailovo Kremlin Walls where a few wedding couples were headed to immortalize this special day on a digital screen or film.

We eventually found one of my companions who had gone off on her own busily chatting to a fur hat salesman and trying on different ones as she posed for pictures in them.  We heard her loud laugh a few meters away. It was certainly an enjoyable moment which she described as the most sensual experience she had had since she came to Moscow. She described the young man's detailed attention in placing the hat on her head and gently adjusting it before giving her a mirror to look at herself. He seemed an expert at it. She turned this way and that, threw her head back, laughed flirtatiously with the young man of Asian features she was busy entertaining, but not making a purchase. She tried on a few more hats, fox, raccoon, another fox one of a different color. I am convinced it was more to experience the salesman's sensual touch than to find one that fit to buy. A few hats, laughs and photographs later, we thanked the man, who unfortunately had not managed to make a sale but must have had a good time being entertained by a tourist, and left promising to come back another time.

We made another stop before we headed to the smoky barbecue stand for lunch. An elderly man was at a stand selling wooden toys – bears on a see-saw, bears on bicycles, bears building furniture and the cutest tray of pecking hens with a handle to shake the hens into action. It looked adorable; an alternative to a rattle with a gentler sound. I helped the salesman and my friends to breach the language barrier needed to conduct business successfully. The satisfaction derived from the business transaction earned me a gift for my services as a translator. Not only was I proud that my linguistic skills had been acknowledged, but glad as well that they had been honored.

Just as we were about to leave, another customer who had engaged my companions in conversation at the toy stand, and whom I had taken to be Russian asked for my help with the salesman. He wanted to buy the tray of pecking hens for his nephew, he said. He then asked for several ones in different colors. Did he say nephew or nephews? I wondered. We found out to our surprise that he was Italian and christened him Luigi or Giovanni. He did not offer his name and we did not insist on finding out. The rest of the evening was spent making jokes about Giovanni or Luigi. I had not had Shannon’s sensual shopping experience, but I have my gift to keep forever as a reminder of this eventful day – a miniature blue and white matryoska with blue eyes, big, bushy eyelashes and a friendly smile. The first part of the shopping done with overwhelming experiences, it was time for some rest and a meal.

The cooks manning the barbecue grills were eager for us to get some food and offered us a variety of choices. To make sure we would stay and eat, they assured us that the meat and fish were fresh and offered us pieces to taste. It seemed a pleasant enough place with pleasant enough people so we chose to stay. The chicken, fish and lamb kebabs we were served, washed down with warm wine was delicious. We greatly enjoyed it all and profusely thanked the two kind babushkas who came to clear the table for us. All done, we complied and dutifully paid the tourist fees we were charged although we live in Moscow. We had a chance to go through our purchases as we waited for our meal, admired them, commented on them and thought about the recipients as well as what their reaction to the gifts would be.

Our tummies filled, and feeling warmer than when we first arrived, we took another lazy tour around the market, and although we could see the vodka museum in the distance, we decided to leave that for another time. It had been a late start to the day and we had to prepare for work the next. We hadn't had time to go to the top floor to see the antique icons either. With that in mind, we scheduled another visit to the market to go to the places we had missed.