Petersburgian Case File #4: The War to End All Wars

There are a lot of street vendors in St. Petersburg. You have your typical sort of marketplaces with all the standard tourist stuff- a matryoshka with a picture of Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood here, a furry hat with a communist emblem there (I guess when the cold war ended everything went from menacing to kitsch).

Okay so I haven't seen this exact hat yet but my eyes are on the lookout

My favorite street vendors, however, are the old grandmothers who sell produce. You'll see these women in their 60s (their 70s) standing for hours at a time on certain sideways and corners with a shopping bag full of apples or squash or potatoes or who knows what else trying to sell their meager collection of fruits and vegetables. This raises many questions such as where they get the produce (one would imagine they don't buy it at a store and then end up standing outside selling it at a mark up, I mean who would buy it then so do they grow it themselves? Do they just pretend to be elderly while secretly being highly athletic thieves of the night, breaking into stores - headscarves and all - to steal their precious vegetables?) or really what kind of money they can make doing this (especially when there are so, so many grocery stores throughout Petersburg). I suppose it isn't a comical thing to note "haha look at the elderly Russian women who, though probably working most of their life, have not been able to acquire enough money to properly retire and so have to stand every day outside with a bag of apples hoping to make enough money to live" though I grant Russian humor can be quite bleak so I suppose if that in and of itself made you laugh, you're welcome.

See? Inherently hilarious!

But while it may look it, the world of Russian Old Lady Street Vendors is, in fact, not all fun and games. Standing on the sidewalk, a few days ago, I was privy to quite a heated exchange in this dog-eat-dog world of fruit vendors. As one grandmother (probably in her late 70s) - bag of apples in front of her - stood on the street another woman (this one significantly younger - late 50s or so) - bag of dried fruits in her hands - ambled up to her and politely began:

"You old hag, why don't you just give me your apples and your corner and go home. Your time is through. Why are you still here. I'm younger, I have people to support. I'll stand here, I'll make the money, and you can go home. You must be tired, after all, being so very old."

As one could probably expect this was not met with the most overwhelmingly positive of responses:

"You can have my corner and my wares when I drop dead."

Satisfied with that answer, the younger one started unloading her dried fruits about half a foot away from the older one and so they stood - arch enemies for life, with apples and raisins for the masses in hand.