This morning I discovered a wondrous thing — I can point my phone at something in Russian or Ukrainian, and Google translate will change the words right into English!  This could revolutionize my life! I excitedly pointed it at everything I had in my kitchen, and was delighted to discover that the cookies I bought have a “baked milk aroma,” and the fruit on the hand soap is in fact not lemons but “butter plums.”  Wow – what a smart shopper I could now be!

I continued to learn about what I had bought and been eating, and as I went, I began to discover some disturbing information.  Google was having trouble translating some of the words, but the ones it did know could be, well, troubling.

The more I learned, the more troubled I became.  I began to take everything from the shelves, fridge, and freezer and examine it.  I had more surprises in store.

By now, I really wanted nothing to do with the food I had so foolishly bought.  I decided I had best get out of my apartment as quickly as I could and get some food that had been cooked by those who knew this language.  Besides, now that I had this magic language-changer in hand, I was as smart as the rest.  I felt empowered and emboldened.  I tucked my newfound confidence into my pocket and headed down the elevator.

As I walked by one of the first restaurants I came to, I stopped to decipher the menu. It dawned on me that the same folks who had created these questionable foods in my kitchen were creating the menus all around me.  See for yourself:

So, I ended up at McDonald’s, my one American friend in this city.  As I sat there eating my hahmbuurgayr, frry, keychup, and Layeet Cocacola, I pointed my translator at the bag and cup and realized that my Google friend was either getting tired, or was in fact having some fun with me.

In fact, it wasn’t sure what lie to feed me. 

I decided to give it one last chance, and tried the placemat.  

I was now wising up to its schemes.  I mean, I can understand criticizing eyelashes, but who would criticize eyelashes property?  So I told it to be straight with me, and it revised the wording to something marginally more believable.

I think I had best use this powerful weapon with a large grain of salt — even if it IS the stuff buried on Mars.