Digital Wanderer

About ten years ago, I worked with a woman—let’s call her Tanya. She was a very devout churchgoer. She knew all the holy days and observed every ritual. She crossed herself before every meal, literally blessing every bun and sausage. Every Easter, she flew to Jerusalem as routinely as if she were going to work. To get the Holy Fire. In between all this, she walked around the office offering expensive Finnish butter at a bargain price. Tanya’s mother worked as the facilities manager at a children’s gastroenterology sanatorium, and large bags of butter periodically appeared from there. Tanya made no secret of it. The women happily bought the splendid Finnish packs for a token sum. I always refused, which for some reason irritated Tanya greatly. She had no idea why I refused, but I think you’ve figured it out. One day, Tanya and I were alone in the room, and I asked, playing slightly dumb: - Tanya, does that children’s sanatorium where your mother works really have that much butter left over? - Are you kidding me? - Tanya turned toward me. - Or are you making fun of me? Do you really not understand that Mom simply smuggles this butter out of there? What’s wrong with that for you? I sell it cheaply; I’m doing people a good turn. Why don’t you buy any? Afraid of gaining weight? Then get some for the kids, you fool. - Tanya, what do they give the children there instead of this Finnish butter? At that sanatorium? They’re children with stomach problems, aren’t they? - You know, there’s VOIMIX, a margarine—they like it and eat it well... And she added: - I can also bring some good cottage cheese, the kind they deliver to the sanatorium for casseroles... - What do they put in the casserole instead of cottage cheese? - I asked in horror. - Semolina! Semolina gives it the same taste, didn’t you know? Let’s go have some tea; I brought almost nothing with me, but we’ll eat whatever the Lord has provided...