This Little Piggie Went to Market

It's been tough-going finding good throwaways and second-hand curiosities at the markets in Tallinn. Mind you, since the weather's shaped up, more stuff has appeared at the train station market. Fewer kiosks are locked, boarded up or unmanned. More of the sellers are skulking around, socializing (and sometimes boozing) in the environs of their collections, making it much easier to find out whether something's for sale, and how much things cost.

We dropped by this past weekend to pick up the most recent in John's line of broken watches. We'd returned it to the kiosk he'd bought it from since the hands weren't firmly threaded on the central pin. Any handshaking or wringing of same would force the hands to jump intervals of fives, tens or twenties of minutes at a time, whether future-bound or past, every fingerwag also a wager in time lost or time gained. The watch had been sold with a year's guarantee, this in the form of a tiny piece of paper with incomprehensible handwritten details. The guarantee was honoured, though our money was reimbursed for the meanwhile. The watch was to be sent to "the master" and we could pick it up after 2 Sundays had passed.

Alas, the watch was on the premises, but still broken. It hadn't been sent anywhere. "The master's sick," I was told. "For the past three weeks?" I asked, and filled John in on the goings-on. The seller overheard us and called out in English from the depths of his booth, "He is very old -- 80 years!" No other repair options were suggested. A single week remained until our departure from Tallinn -- unlikely that even the speediest of recoveries would allow enough time for master-ful repair and Sunday pick-up. The seller removed the watch-strap (which belonged to John... this had been bought at yet another wacky watch repair and clock kiosk, located in the steamy, mildew-stained lobby of Raua sauna, in downtown Tallinn) and kept the broken timepiece. John's given up on finding a new old watch in Estonia.

But all was not lost on this trip to the market. A longer than usual look into a toy'n'games kiosk yielded this most awesome name-brand rip-off compact, a must-have accessory from Christian Dior's lesser known and spelling-challenged haute couture of a cousin, "Charsten Deor". I googled the spoofed-up name on a whim and turned up a handful of Russian articles (Itar-Tass Ural, Federal Customs Service, Security Service) on a court case dealing with the seizure of counterfeited Christian Dior goods. Apparently, the Arbitration Court of Sverdlovsk Region ruled in favour of Ekaterinburg Customs on charges of illegal use of the Christian Dior trademark. The guilty party was fined in the amount of 30,000 roubles, and the counterfeit items -- mirrors in plastic frames, 7200 units -- were confiscated. I'm glad this one made it all the way here from Ekaterinburg. It's the first item I own that I know was supposed to have been officially confiscated -- a bargain at 19 EEK.

Meanwhile, over at Keskturg, Tallinn's Central Market, the outdoor stall section has been largely taken over by sellers of bedding plants and starter tomatoes, making for slim pickin's. In the midst of all the spring seedlings, one woman trading in household detritus did have something of note. Here's an artistic interpretation that features the fantastic find: