The Robe from Jordan

A couple of months ago I got an email from a friend of Jordan. He wrote that he was coming to my city so I could order a present from the East. Well, I have complicated relationships with the gifts. I agree with Richard Bach: "Do not give me because what I need I buy myself. So anything you give I already have or I do not really need".  But this case was different: the person from the East will not leave me until gifts. I thought and wrote: "Dear Bashar! Basically, we have everything here. So it is hard to imagine what can I ask from the East. Anyway I was always wondering what your women wear at home. We have robes. You should know what it is because your wife is Ukrainian. My size is 42. Something that is not expensive. If it is difficult to do, then just forget about it. Best regards, Polina".

The phone rang two weeks later: Bashar is in my city. We agreed to meet at the center for  a cup of coffee: to talk about business and he will give a gift. So we did. I meet him at the appointed time. Actually, I am cool to Arabs. But this guy is nice, looking as famous Russian producer being young: small, plump, bald. He studied Russian language and speaks it reasonably good. Anyway we talk in English because I easier for me.

We discussed his business issues and he handed me the package to the end of our conversation. "That's what you asked for. Firstly, I was stunned when I received your letter. Then I thought  did everything. You know, I had a problem with customs, they asked: what is it? "- the Arab said. I cringed: "What a problem?" Bashar reassured me that everything was OK. I did not dare to climb in the package right there and to see what a problem robe he brought. It was not comme il faut. I said goodbye to Bashar, threw the package on the rear seat in the car and rode all day on different matters. In the evening at home I finally unwrapped the present.

Is this a robe????????????????

Firstly, I was hot because I realized that it was not cheap. Damn, why such gestures? Honestly, the dress was of rare beauty. It was long in floor, fuchsia colour, a belt, collar and sleeves embroidered with sequins and rhinestones (customs alerted the stones for sure). In one word: the Firebird.

When I came to myself I thought deeply. Is this a robe? Their women wear such clothes at home? My God, what kind of homes they live in??? Where can I put it? It could fit somewhere on the stage for a pop-singer but I'm not a singer. For New Year it is too pretentious. If it is really a robe, I thought suddenly, I shall look like some our women in the 90s: they dressed long shirts with Disney characters prints.  Mini-dress with Mickey Mouse was a rage. Foreigners were laughing because it was their nightgowns. Our proud women in nighties  were walking along the streets...

So I hung in complete bewilderment what to do. To give up - never! Even if it is slack in my closet without a single performance such a beauty I could not return. I returned to Bashar my thanks: I was engaged with questions a week for free.

He drove off to Minsk then and sent a letter from there: "What do you want me to bring from Belarus? Please, not a robe!!! "

I thought ominously: “Well, you insured with robe already, what to order?” Smiling I tapped out: "Bring me a Belarusian bunny"* ... Then I thought that he can bring a live crossing the border. The custom officers will get mad. No, it is not interesting to jokes with foreigners. So I  sent another letter in pursuit: " Forget about bunny. I already have a rabbit. I need nothing. Sincerely, Polina".


*The smallest Belarusian banknotes named “bunnies” because of bunny’s picture on it.