Pack… Snickers Bars

I grew up in Armenia during a time of severe scarcity. There was no electricity. There were kerosene lamps but no kerosene. There were wood burning stoves but no money to buy wood with. There were candles but no matches to light them with. There were food stamps but no food to use them on. It was a time of creative problem solving and trying to make something out of nothing. Some of the more creative solutions included fueling our stove with anything that would burn. Though, in hindsight, I wonder whether inhaling the smoke from burning old faux leather shoes can explain my adult onset asthma. Another creative approach was utilized in obtaining what at the time passed for chocolate at my house (courtesy of my dad who was a laboratory scientist): you mix clarified butter with sugar and cocoa powder. The result was greasy and grainy as hell but in absence of actual chocolate (and due to the lack of funds to obtain any kind of commercial chocolate product) this was not only an acceptable but a highly lauded alternative. Though I should note that my dad would sometimes get in trouble for his concoction, since according to my mom we needed the clarified butter for “real” food. 

Quick aside on the clarified butter (or ghee) situation. Back then we conserved all and any food we could: summer fruit was turned into jams for the winter, unfinished loaves of bread were turned into croutons, and butter (when we got our hands on it) was clarified to prevent spoilage and make sure that it kept even without a refrigerator (no electricity, remember?).

During this time of weird ghee-based “chocolate,” the 10 year old me had a rampant sweet tooth and came upon a box of real, honest-to-goodness chocolates. You know how in America people get presents for Christmas? When I was growing up for the holidays (we celebrated New Years instead of Jesus’ birthday) you got things like apples and oranges and maybe a quince (it’s a fruit – look it up). Except when really fancy guests showed up and maybe brought you chocolate (and if you were particularly lucky, then it wouldn’t be a box that had been in the regifting cycle since the previous New Years).

If you make $75K/year, this would be equivalent to spending $470 on 15 candy bars

And so I was given this box of chocolates and I talked my parents into not regifting it (this was a regular practice since visiting people empty handed just wasn’t done but buying a present required money that people didn’t have). My dad, trying to avoid getting in trouble for using up more of my mom’s ghee, decided to make a pact: if I could make the 15 candies in the box last 15 days, he would buy me a Snickers bar (my favorite) each day, to be given to me at the end of the 15 day challenge. To put it in perspective, my mom’s salary at that time was $200 per month (my dad was working but hadn’t been paid in years at that point), and a Snickers bar cost about $1. Since I can’t resist it, here’s some math – if you make $75K/year, this would be equivalent to spending $470 on 15 candy bars. So what I’m trying to say here is that my dad was ready to invest.

I decided to bet against the house: the payoff of 15 Snickers bars was just too good. Every evening I’d have my one chocolate and stare at the rest of them in the box. I’d put the box back into the cabinet, walk away, come back, open the cabinet, stare at the box, walk away again. I did a lot of courting of this box of chocolates. But I held out. I kept reminding myself of the stories my parents read to me when I was little about Soviet spies captured by the Germans during WWII and how they held out and did not divulge secrets entrusted to them even when tortured (yes, this passed for children’s literature during the Soviet years). And if they held out, then surely so could I. I was particularly encouraged by the ever growing stack of the Snickers bars in my dad’s desk drawer (I snooped – I had to make sure he was holding up his end of the bargain).

15 longest days and 15 tiny chocolates later I emerged victorious and was the proud recipient of 15 Snickers bars, which my dad had placed in a fancy box that he had decorated. He made a speech about willpower and grit prior to bestowing the candy upon me. I had done it! And in my hands I held 15 Snickers bars (imagine giving a 10 year old $470 worth of candy). So next, I did the only thing that made sense at the time: I ate the candy. At first, I decided to stop at one bar. But then I remembered how hard I had worked to earn it and decided that I deserved a second one. And maybe a third. 

I think I was on my 8th when I finally got sick. I never made it to the rest of the Snickers bars. As a matter of fact, I haven’t touched a Snickers bar since. Or any other candy bar that has peanuts in it. No m’am. But at least I know that I’m rather capable of willpower and grit.