One of the nice things about spending time away from your
home culture is that you get to observe some differences between home and your
host culture. I should start by saying that I love the Slovak people. I find
them to amazingly generous, full of life, and brave. They have survived an
incredible history of changing domination and, at this moment, they are
enjoying a well-earned period of relative prosperity which is much greater than
the people would have ever thought possible during the Cold War. Those were
bleak days, indeed, and they were close on the heels of the even darker days of
the most recent World War. This country was at the heart of that horrific
conflict and was, in fact, a pawn between the Nazis and the Red Army- a hell of
a rock and a hard place to be! For some reason, I have always had a great
affinity for the Slovak people. When I fell in love with my husband, I fell in
love with the whole country. I am here by choice, so anything I might say to
poke fun at the Slovaks is all in good fun. Any one of them is welcome to come
to my country and do the same. I’m sure lots of them have. We Americans have
plenty of fodder for any cultural “observations” lobbed at us, and rightly so. So
here goes: Some observations on our life here the Heart of Europe.
Graffiti- I just don’t get it. Surrounded by beautiful
architecture from hundreds of years ago and massive quantities of graffiti.
What surprises me is not only its prevalence, but the fact that people do not
think it’s a big deal. I know you see graffiti in cities of all size back home,
but the sheer quantity here is shocking. One person told me that it’s just art.
Now, I acknowledge that graffiti can be an artistic form, when done in an
appropriate place, but writing the equivalent of f*** you on the side of a
beautiful renaissance building or on the beautiful 12-foot wood door to one of
the old apartment buildings will never be art! When I have asked people about,
they look at me with a puzzled expression. A problem for me, but not for them.
It’s their country; enough said.
Social etiquette- I have heard lots of Americans comment on
the fact that people here do not look you in the eye, but I am not sure it’s
that different than large cities in the U.S. The fact is, they don’t, it’s
true. I have learned to look disinterested on the streetcar to hopefully blend
in a bit, despite that one bright blue jacket I have (a dead giveaway that I’m
not from around here- the color of choice is black). However, I have noticed
that anyplace that one might expect a temporary intimacy, the rules are
different. For example, in the hallway of the apartment building, one person
will always greet the other with a loud “Dobry Den” (Good Day); of course one
is expected to respond. I have gotten over being terrified of my Slovak and now
I answer right back, just as enthusiastically (although I always wait to let
the other guy go first, because maybe I can get away without speaking. So far,
it hasn’t worked). My teacher friends will appreciate that children do this, as
well. In fact, they don’t just answer; they are expected to greet you first as
a sign of respect. If you meet a child walking in the hallway with a parent,
usually the child will greet you first- astounding for those of us that have
spent many a morning at the school doors reminding American children that when
we greet them, it would be polite for them to reply!
Chivalry is not dead- Streetcar is the mode of
transportation we use most here, and they vary widely in age and quality. Many
of them are old style, with just one row of single seat along the outside wall.
And, even on the ones with more seats, at certain times it is standing room
only. There are usually a few people standing for the ride, even on the
less-crowded ones. It is interesting to observe that people will invariably
stand to give their spot to an older person (no, I haven’t had anyone give up
their seat to me, yet, thank goodness!). Granted, they do this without looking
them in the eye, but the point is that they do it automatically. No big fuss,
it’s just expected. In fact, I read a story recently in the English language
newspaper, The Slovak Spectator, about an “incident” on a bus in Bratislava. A
bunch of teenagers were sitting on the bus and two elderly women got on. The
kids didn’t move. Finally, a middle-aged woman got up to offer her seat and
publicly called out the “young gentlemen”, suggesting that they might consider
doing the same thing. Then, their teacher spoke up and said she had told them
to remain seated because she was chaperoning them on a field trip and she was
concerned that, if something happened to one of them, they couldn’t all fit all
11 of them into the ambulance to go to the hospital. This caused a huge public
outcry calling into question the decline of values being taught in the schools;
and while the bashing of public education is a spectator sport of which I am
well-tired, I have to say that I applaud the culture’s desire to hang on to its
respect for public courtesies. Wouldn’t make the papers back home, would it?
Embrace the clothes dryer already! One thing I can’t
understand is hanging laundry everywhere to dry when we have the technology to dry
clothes quickly and conveniently. Virtually no one has clothes dryers. Washing
machines are in the bathroom, which makes a lot of sense when you think about
it. Most of them drain with a hose into the tub (just make sure you’re not in
there trying to bathe at the time, as George found out the hard way). Then, you
have the option of hanging your clothes on the balcony (if you are fortunate
enough to have one), or over the tub (which makes it really difficult to then
take your combination squatting/standing “shower” with your hand-held shower
head. This brings me to another point.
Showers, or lack of them- In my experience, shower heads
attached to the wall when combined with an expensive item known as a shower
curtain works quite nicely. These are rare in Slovakia. Some people do have
stand-up showers in newer homes, but they don’t exist in the sidlisko flats where we live.
And, some new places are built with a beautiful tub and, you guessed it, a
hand-held shower head. I will spare you the details of my own bathing routine,
but if you are ever here and need advice, I would be willing to share. My top
tip is to always check the direction of the spray nozzle BEFORE you pull the
toggle to send the water from the faucet to the sprayer. You will only forget
that once (well, okay, maybe two or three times) before you will remember to
check every time. Nothing like filling the entire bathroom with water to make a
frustrating experience that much more joyous! Enough about the wetter pursuits
of Slovak life!
Hospitality! Slovaks are absolutely over the top in their
hospitality. In fact, I find it both totally endearing and a little bit
intimidating. Let’s face it, if you come to my house, I am not likely to offer
you slippers (and if I did, I would not insist you wear them). I would probably
offer you something to drink and/or eat, but there would not be six kinds of cheese,
four dozen homemade pastries (which are then packed up to send with you), platters
of delicious little open-faced sandwiches offered before the meal, a soup for
starter, followed by four or five dishes, some more of the homemade pastries, a
shot of alcohol before the meal, wine with it, and delicious espresso
afterwards (although sometimes it tends to be instant coffee instead, can’t win
‘em all). And, even if I do all those things, I am not likely to then give you
a present when you leave. Slovaks tend to be extremely generous when you go to
their homes. I used to feel bad because it is just so over the top and,
frankly, not necessary to make me feel welcomed However, I have come to
recognize that it is just their culture, and to love them for it. All except
the slippers…
Slippers- Okay, here are a couple more things I am still
trying to make sense of. Everyone here removes their shoes when they enter a home.
Great idea, I like it so far. However, these people are obsessed with slippers.
If you go to someone’s house, they will “offer” you some slippers. They always
give you the nicest pair (and there are lots in every household to choose
from), and if you are a houseguest, chances are they have purchased a brand-new
pair for you. The problem is, you can’t say no. I have spent more hot summer
days with my feet baking in fuzzy slippers than I care to remember. Part of
this is hospitality, but there also seems to be an aversion…no, something more…perhaps
a fear of cold things on the feet. Their concern seems to be strongest for
women and be somehow connected to reproduction, but that’s as far as I can get
in figuring it out. It’s a little bit of a delicate subject and most of these
conversations involve me repeating my 10 Slovak phrases while some poor woman
works so hard in her limited English while waving vaguely toward my bottom half
and telling me that it’s “not good for the womans.” “Ohhh,” I reply equally as
vaguely. I give up because obviously I am causing them distress. Absolutely no
bare feel on a tile floor, period. The doctor at my medical exam for my visa
just about had a coronary when I removed my shoes. Well, the top and pants were
already off; I was pretty sure that shoes were the next logical thing to go.
Guess not! She apparently thought I had lost my mind. I have traumatized my
female hosts all over this country on this issue and I have finally given in.
Let my feet sweat; I just don’t have the heart to argue.
Cold things, in general- We have noticed that the dislike of
all things cold seems to be a theme. When we told someone we were putting
travertine on our bathroom floor at home, he was appalled, stating that he knew
someone who did that and the woman stepped from the hot bath onto the cold
tile, got “an inflammation” and died. What can you say to that? In addition,
dislikes include ice cubes and air conditioning. And, women are not to sit on
cold, hard things, such as fountains or walls. This may be connected to the
same issue as the feet, but who knows. It is beyond me.
Church bells- Enough of picking on my beloved host country. Let’s
move on! The tolling of the church bells is lovely. The Catholic Church is huge
here, although there is an increasing number of Protestants, as well. I guess
we just don’t know any of them, because any time I ask about Protestant
churches, the people we know say, “Yes, there are some,” and that’s the end of
the conversation. So, I haven’t been to church because I wouldn’t know what to
do at a Latin (or Slovak) Mass, and even if I found a Protestant church, it is
not likely to be in English. So, I enjoy the church bells and sitting in
cathedrals and doing things my own way. The bells toll for about 10 minutes at noon
as well as at other hours, and of course on Sunday morning. One of the things I
love here is the way the churches are open most of the time. People stop by to
pray as part of their day and it reminds you what an integral part of life
faith has been in this part of the world.
Kindness of people- Overall, every public office we
have been in such as police stations (and we’ve visited four of them now),
hospitals (that’s another blog), insurance companies, and so on, have been
extremely welcoming, polite, and generous with their time. I am impressed, not
with the bureaucracy, but with the people we have encountered. We may get
through this, yet.
