Six months and some reflection

We passed our 6-month mark of living in Slovakia during a visit from my parents. The past six months have been many things: interesting, frustrating, exhausting and at times, pretty fun.

My own adjustment has been difficult in many ways that I was not expecting. From the outset, I didn't expect the Slovaks to be like the Palestinians. I knew the people kept to themselves and are a reserved population. I also knew that folks would be just like every other person around the world once you get to know them. But knowing all that just couldn't bring me through the daily void of eye contact, smiles, waves, greetings, that are a part of American culture and an even greater part of Palestinian culture. What's so bad about that?

My question exactly. I know I'm not tough. I don't want to be tough, but I have a need to be acknowledged as a person. Earlier in this blog I talked about being conspicuous or ignored, what would you prefer? I was speaking about standing out racially in Ramallah and what that felt like. From this new perspective, I hate being ignored. I know there are some historical issues about that, so I'll sign up for some good therapy when I get back to the US if I'm not cured through this experience. But for now, I feel that most of the contact I have with the local folks is, at best, with indifference and, at worst, getting bawled out. Just today I was returning from the Posta (post office) and a lady was walking her dog. I have no idea what I did wrong, but she stopped me, and I don't think she was giving me a compliment about my hat as she talked and waved her arms. Something about her dog and me? I've been bawled out for leaving a garbage bag in the hallway by a neighbor. We regularly get the pipes clanged on when our kids' stocking feet make noise on the floor. Anya got a good scolding from someone after she, in frustration, threw a sport bottle of juice on the ground. A bus driver hollered at Doug for bringing the stroller in the wrong door of the bus. While Justin was reading aloud on a train a lady yelled "SHUT-up". That word we understand - all the rest of our scolding/getting bawled out is in Slovak. We don't understand a word. Really, not one word! But an attitude and tone can be communicated clearly without language.

So, dear friends, this has all taken a toll on my feeling of well-being and a little bit of my dignity. I always felt good in Ramallah when I could share a smile with someone. Even though I spoke just a tiny little bit of Arabic, much can be communicated with a smile. Touch was common in Palestine - where language failed, you could touch a small child, give a double kiss to an old woman.

I have some new friends here who are helping me understand this new challenge. In particular, having come from the Palestinian culture to the Slovak culture. These may be the two most difficult cultures to have back to back and adjust to. They are helping me by telling me I'm not crazy needy (who wants to be that??) and that it isn't me, it's the culture. And these are people who have lived with or worked with Palestinians! Isn't that amazing that we are here in Bratislava together?

I'll post some photos of my parents' visit shortly. We had a good time together, getting caught up, seeing some of the region. I finally got to Vienna, Austria to look around and got more experience on the train and metro systems w/o the guys. I'm getting more adventurous each day.