Today marks the fifth day of my stay in Slovakia, and to my good fortune, I have not yet died, or been robbed, mugged, or taken advantage of. I count that all as a big plus in my book.
The change from last Friday, when I left, to today, is incredible. At O’Hare and subsequently on the plane to Warsaw, I did not have butterflies in my stomach. Why is that, you might ask? Well, because it was less like butterflies and more like thundering herds of wildebeest. It certainly didn’t help that I was caught in some terrible weather right before the plane took off so it was not able to take off. The whole time, I kept thinking about how I already had a very short time to make it to my connecting flight in Warsaw to Krakow, and each minute made me tenser. Fortunately, I was able to release some stress by writing a whole bunch of puns (attached at the end of this post, for those poor souls who are interested).
8+ hours later, I managed to navigate my way through Polish customs and find my way in the airport to the right gate, approximately 3 whole minutes before boarding. It turned out to be a very small plane with propellers, not jet engines, and boarded from the ground directly onto the ladder to the plane–my first time with that size of plane.
In the air, I noticed (as attentive farmer eyes like mine tend to do) that the farm fields were very long and thin, and some were harvested while others were not. The resulting effect was a variety of long, thin, different colored strips–it looked not unlike the entire earth was covered in hardwood flooring.
Arriving, I met my host family and my Rotary contact, all of whom were exceptionally kind, even if they spoke very little English. My Rotary contact was able to communicate to me the expectations and my schedule for the next few days, and we went on our way.
The first stop was Ikea, both for some pierogi and for a lamp for my room. We also stopped for some groceries on the two hour car ride; I saw these stops not as excuses to eat, but rather as opportunities to learn some new words. I quickly picked up “I want” (ja chcem), “I like” (mám rád), and “everything” (všetko).
The next few days have gone by without a hitch. My new parents offer me food, the TV remote control (and there is cable to watch soccer–yay!), almost anything my heart desires. I have tried to keep to conversational topics–they’ve done so much for me already that I feel bad asking for superfluous things. They have provided me with everything need, Taken me to school and introduced me to the teachers and principal, shown me their office (they are both architectural engineers), taken me around town, and taken me to my first Rotary meeting.
In all, I’d say my favorite things thus far have been the food (polievka [soup] is excellent, and there is meat at every meal), my trip to the city center where I had giant slices of pizza with my host dad, then went to a bar, playing soccer with some local kids, learning Slovak with my family as we all sit by the TV every night, and meeting new people at school. Perhaps most notable was today, when I got to go to my host mother’s father’s farm to move some firewood. The older generation essentially speaks no English, not even “yes” or “no”. It was a very European looking house (as I suppose it ought to be, given that it’s in Europe…) and it also felt very European–they kept offering me alcohol! I’m certain that if I didn’t dislike alcohol, I’d be a raging alcoholic by this point from all the times it’s been offered to me.
All is good here, and I hope to upload some pictures soon. I hope all is quiet on the Western Front–I’ll have more stories to tell in a week!
(terrible puns, for those that miss them:
I was Hungary, but the Turkey they were offering on the fine China was covered in Greece. The waiter heard me complain, so he told me, “you no like da food? Slovak down da street to the next place. But don’t forget to pay the Czech.”
I responded saying, “fine, I think I will. I wasn’t that India ya food in the first place.”
“there is Norway you could say something so mean as that!”
“oh yeah? You want Tibet?”
“Jordan-gerously close to having me call the cops. Sudan-gerously close.”
“Kenya calm down? I’m going already.”
And with that, I paid and left.
Going down the street, I saw a tanning salon that focused solely on the middle joint of legs. It was called “Tunisia Tanzania”. I also so a mens’ fancy clothing outfitter shop. It focused on neck-wear–aptly named “Thailand”. Lastly, I glanced down the road and and saw the red-light district; I saw a telephone Poland right next to it the two biggest prostitutes I’d ever seen. They looked big as Wales.
Put off, I dipped into the nearest restaurant and sat down. I called the chef over–I had a few questions to ask him. I queried: “I’ve heard Japan of noodles is to die for. But I heard your beverages are a mite bitter. Maybe you should try and Sweden the tea.”
“Belize me, sir, we’ve tried everything with the tea, but it’s rowdy product–completely in-Korea-gible. I wish there was something we could do.”
“Well, if that’s the case, I guess there really is nothing you Canada.”
“Are we just going to Gabon, or are you actually going to order something?”
“Well, first I’d like to Peru-se the menu a little more.”)
quinngingerevans 