My dad had a friend who was a merchant marine (let’s call him Sasha). Sasha had just come back from a voyage to Scandinavia and was telling the group a story about one of the dock workers he met.
Over the course of a week, the two had become friends. They had shared food, chatted about life in each other’s country, and enjoyed working together. On the last day of the job, Sasha noticed that his friend had pulled up to work that morning in a different car than usual.
Sasha asked his friend if he had gotten a new car. “No,” he responded, “my car is with the mechanic, so I drove my wife’s car this morning.”
“Can you believe that?” Sasha shouted! “His wife has a car!”
When Sasha left, my dad and those who stayed pitied Sasha. He had clearly been duped, they agreed. The idea of having a car was foreign to them and a sign of almost impossible luxury (but still believable). But the idea of having two cars in a household was impossible! Vlad had swallowed this western lie hook, line, and sinker!
Upon moving to America, they met families with three cars–one for each parent and another for the older kids to drive.