Cabbage rolls

She stands low to the fertile soil of this country with thick ankles and her high, rubber boots keeping her firmly planted. She loves to layer. People here would say she dresses like a cabbage, because under the boots is another pair of shoes, and from what I can tell, 2-3 layers of wool stockings.

You will never see her in pants, but rather a knee-length skirt that only reveals her trunks of legs. Moving our way up to the top half of her torso, I have to revert to speculation because I've never actually seen her without her coat on- even indoors. Over this mass, she continues with the earth-stained, long vintage coat (vintage by default, not fashion) being the top layer. Underneath (speculation) I am able to see atleast three more layers of clothing, which means there is probably 5-6. A wool vest and 2 mis-matched shirts, one of the floral variety, though the variety of floral is undescernible, play peek-a-boo from the sleeves of the coat.

At the end of these sleeves emerge solid, thick hands that look like they haven't een washed in days, maybe weeks. There is soil around each nail, framing her hard, yellow fingernails. Each digit looks like it's been individualy calloused by years of fire and frost. They look like petrified cocktail weiners (slightly longer).

She may or may not half a scarf around her neck, but she is sure to have one around her head. Up till this point, the color scheme (liberal choice of words) is earth-toned (literally sometimes). But the scarf around her heard sticks out like an American in Ukraine. There are two options for this scarf: one) a brilliant green, royal blue, or marigold with a floral design and a gold thread woven in and out or 2) A solid flourescent pink, yellow, or orange wool. This scarf is tightly tied beneath her chin. Sometimes so tight I find it a amazing that the hairs on her chin don't fall out from loss of circulation. They don't.

Her face looks 20 years older than she is. Her eyes have sunken in to her leathered skin and have turned gray along with her wirey hair. She has a large, almost bulbous nose (also hairy). She has no lips for they too play hide-and-seek with her mouth. Her mouth looks like a balloon knot, with one crucial difference. Inside this knot, she hides the treasure- gold. She has a smile of gold, though it's rarely seen.

She is aggressive. Being low to the ground, she has a lot of levereage when pushing you to get on the marshrutka (to be learned about later). She never waits in the "line". She doesn't smell good- poop: her own, goose, pig, and turkey. But, she can make some damn good cabbage roles, in fact, this is what I often think of when I see her because she is shaped just like this traditional Ukrainian dish.

Who is this women? She is the women sweeping the sidewalks, the women who sells jarred muschrooms at the bazaar, the women herding her geese all day, my neighbor, the women who stole my seat on the bus, the women who tells me I'm a slut because I smoke. She is the Ukrainian babusya (grandma).