Just Skating By

This past week (and weekend), I celebrated Thanksgiving with some of my fellow American colleagues. The ELCA Global Mission teachers from all the cities in Slovakia and in Poland came to Bratislava for a group celebration.

Last Thursday, though, at the lyceum, we celebrated Thanksgiving on its actual day at a “turkey party” that the students have put on for the last five years. Some of my third-year students were the main organizers, and they did a fabulous job. The food included all the standard Thanksgiving food (and the turkey was from a small organic farm outside of Bratislava so it was amazing), with some Slovak specialties, too.

Getting ready to attack the amazing Thanksgiving food at school.

Four of the other teachers and I opened up the turkey party with a Thanksgiving “rap,” that included us dressing up as gangsta turkeys. My costume included a beak, turkey feat, orange tights, a sideways hat, and tail feathers (photos to come soon). The rap seemed to be a hit, and some of my students asked  me to reenact it in class the next day. We may have to go on “tour” for Christmas, too.

This weekend, though, I got to meet the other two teachers who are in Tisovec. They came a month late because of a family issue, so it was my first time meeting them, and it was so fun to get to know them and hang out. We visited the Bratislava Christmas Market (as it was the opening night on Friday), and were already in a winter wonderland.

I also got to reunite with some of the teachers who I went through orientation with, and it was fun to hear about their experiences. Even though it has only been a few months since I last saw them, it felt like so much had happened, and orientation seems like it was a year ago.

After both the student turkey party and the teacher turkey party on Saturday, we played what’s called the “it” game. It’s kind of like the white elephant exchange, except a bit more aggressive. I walked away with a couple of books, a can of baked beans, and a cute snowman statue. I was pretty satisfied.

So, even though I didn’t get to be home with family, I was still surrounded by a type of family here.

This year what I’m most thankful for (besides family and friends, of course) is the experiences I have had so far and the ones to come, and all the wonderful new people I never even imagined I would meet.

On the train coming into Kraków at 8 in the morning, after a bumpy-night’s sleep and after listening to some randoms above us snore for a while, my friend Ella turned to me and said, “Welcome home.”

The center of Old Town at night.

“Oh yea,” I said out loud, laughing. “I guess I’m back where my family came from.” I think it was the bad night’s sleep that caused me to momentarily forget that I was now in the country where my dad’s family began. I felt excited immediately, however cheesy it sounds.

The Polish zloty

After some trouble figuring out how to exit the train station (they were doing some construction work), and a pit stop at a charming bakery along the way, we made it safely to our hostel and got settled in. The people staying at our hostel included a father and son (the son was about 4 years old and adorable), and two friendly American ladies who we got to chat with a few times. It was interesting hearing the stories of the different people staying at the hostel.

My long weekend in Kraków included a trip to Auschwitz-Birkenau, a tour of the Wieliczka Salt Mine, a tour of the Old Jewish Quarter, visits to many beautiful churches, and a trip to the cemetery for All Saints Day.

We did the tour of the concentration camps through a booking site online, and so a van picked us up bright and early in the morning. The bus ride there took about an hour-and-a-half, and we watched a documentary about the Holocaust on the way. I’m sorry to say that although it was obviously  surreal being at the actual place where so many people lost their lives during the Holocaust, the lackluster emotion and the rushed attitude from our tour guide made it a not-as-touching-as-I-expected experience. I feel sort of inhumane saying that, but I left feeling like I did not experience the feelings that people who had been before me had described to me. Even so, though, I am glad we went, and I think it is something that people should have to see.

The entrance to Auschwitz II-Birkenau

The salt mine was one of my favorite stops we made. It took about three hours, and it was one of the most unbelievable manmade creations I’ve ever seen. Inside the underground mine (we only visited a minute portion of the entire thing) were beautiful chapels, chandeliers made entirely of salt, and sculptures explaining the people of that time period. Our tour guide for that was a teacher in the town too, and she was excellent.

The biggest chapel inside the salt mine.

Like all places in Europe, there were many gigantic churches in Krakow, and we visited our fair share. On the eve of All Saints Day, I attended a Catholic mass in Polish at Saints Peter and Paul Church in the Old Town. I had no idea what the priest or anyone else was saying, but the singing and the instruments sounded beautiful. When it came time for Communion, I had no idea what was happening because it all happened so fast. The people almost seemed to be jumping or flying out of their pews and onto their knees, when the priest came around and placed the host in their mouths at each pew. It was an interesting experience.

After attending the mass, I took a tram out to the Krakow Rakowicki Cemetery to witness the awe of All Saints Day there. People came out in the masses, carrying candles and detailed flowered arrangements to place on the graves of their loved ones. It was like nothing I have ever seen before, and I was glad I ventured out to witness it.

Besides all of our visits to the obvious tourist destinations, Ella and I made a few visits to a delicious cupcake place in the Old Town. It’s hard to find desserts in Bratislava that actually taste as good as they look, so these were a taste of heaven. They literally melted in your mouth.

On the overnight train ride back to Bratislava, we were holding our breath at who we would share a car with this time. We got lucky on the way there, and this time we got even luckier. One of our car mates happened to be a nun. She didn’t speak much English, but a few of her nun friends were at the station to hug her goodbye, so we gathered that it was an exciting trip for her. She fell asleep saying the rosary and holding some of the beads, and it was awesome.

Inside Wawel Castle.

One of our favorite places in Krakow, the Cupcake Corner.

All Saints Day at the cemetery.

Inside the huge chapel in the salt mine.

I arrived back in Bratislava this morning (bright and early at 7 a.m.) with my friend and colleague Ella. We took the night train back (just as we did on the way there), so we were exhausted upon arrival.

This time, we shared a car with a nun, which was awesome. As Ella said, “Well, we don’t have to worry about anybody taking our stuff.”

Our weekend was jammed packed with a lot of activity, including a visit to the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp, the Wieliczka Salt Mine, Wawel Castle, and several trips to a delicious cupcake cafe.

We also stayed at a cozy hostel (Travellers Inn), where we enjoyed a private room, a nice kitchen, and pleasant company among fellow travelers.

For now, though, I am exhausted and have grading to do, so I’m going to keep this post short. I will do a longer post later this week, complete with photos.

It is amazing how small the world becomes during a visit to the Foreign Police. Last week, I made my second and third (and final) trip to the Office of the Border and Foreign Police in Bratislava, to secure my visa to teach.

Just like our first trip, we made the best out of a day-long bureaucratic nightmare. Because of this, we were once again pleasantly surprised. Surrounded by people from “all over the planet,” as our colleague and translator Peter described, we met a new Vietnamese friend named Tai. He is a translator for incoming Vietnamese immigrants.

The little man in the Nike hat sat down beside me, reached into his backpack and pulled out an old book with a blank cover. We had been talking for a few minutes in English, and after he opened it I saw that it was a Vietnamese/English learning book. “I do not speak it very well,” he told me. “Can you read this to me?”

So, in the middle of the small and almost dilapidated, communist-style waiting room, I read to him a dialogue between a husband and wife leaving for the train station. He read it after me with almost no errors, but I could see that he was hesitant to speak it in front of me. After he finished, I then read the text in Vietnamese. I think I botched every word, but he just smiled and corrected me patiently.

Tai ended up inviting us to lunch for some Vietnamese soup later that day. We joined him, and at a lunch table in the middle of an open-air market in Slovakia, we spoke bits and pieces of each other’s languages to each other (English, Slovak and Vietnamese). And even though there was minimal dialogue actually being spoken, we communicated the entire meal, anyway.

Today I got a letter from the Foreign Police telling me my application for temporary residency in Slovakia has been approved. Hooray!

I got a notice from the post office that a letter from the police was waiting for me on Friday, but I couldn’t pick it up then because I didn’t have my passport with me. The thought of what it could be telling me worried me all weekend, so I’m relieved that all of my paperwork went through OK. Sigh of relief.

In other news, I got back from Prague late last night. What a beautiful city. I didn’t really want to leave. It was so international, and I met so many different kinds of people. Plus, most of the people we came across spoke English. I also heard and saw a lot of Czech, which (to me anyway) seemed almost identical to Slovak.

On the King Charles Bridge, a famous historic bridge that crosses the Vltava River and connects Prague Castle with the Old Town. It’s named after King Charles IV.

I traveled to Prague with a Canadian friend I met a couple of weeks ago who is teaching English at a kindergarten in Bratislava. She and I met at the train station super early Saturday morning, and off we went. We slept a lot of the way (we boarded at 5:45 a.m.), and when we pulled into Prague, we were both so excited.

A picture I took as we were walking up to Saint Ludmila Church in Náměstí Míru, which was also the area we stayed in. The girl we stayed with has lived in Prague for three years, and she was a great host with lots of helpful suggestions.

We stayed with a girl I met through one of my old roommates in DC, who has been living in Prague for about three years. It was nice staying with someone who has good knowledge of the city, and she gave us good advice about where to go and how to get there.

At the awe-inspiring John Lennon Wall.

Some of the highlights of the two-day trip were two Starbucks trips (it was like a mecca for Americans in there), wandering to Prague Castle, seeing the John Lennon Wall, stumbling upon quiet and hidden streets in Prague (including one with a lovely English bookstore that I could have stayed in for days just reading the backs of covers), and finding a really good Mexican food place before we headed back to Bratislava. (There is only one Mexican place here that I know of, and I’ve heard it’s not very good. And since Mexican food is my favorite, I was thrilled to scarf down as much of it as I could before I left Prague.)

At Prague Castle, which dates back to the 9th Century and is the biggest castle in the world.

Kelly (the girl I traveled to Prague with) and I by a fountain inside the castle.

A love lock wall near the Lennon Wall. Couples come here to express their everlasting love by adding a lock and throwing the key over the bridge. I don’t know how much it actually works though, because Bachelorette Emily came here, and well, that didn’t seem to work out for her.

Inside St. Vitus Cathedral, part of the Prague Castle complex, the seat of the Archbishop of Prague and the most important church in the country. It was a breathtaking feeling to walk inside.

In front of the Dancing House, originally named “Fred and Ginger” (after Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers).

Another highlight from the weekend was when we happened to stumble upon a local hole-in-the-wall restaurant on the street where we were staying. It was one of those places where old “cronies” gather every week just to catch up, enjoy a few beers, and “shoot the shit.” There were so many interesting characters in there smoking inside and enjoying a soccer match on TV.

Yes, I’m showing you a meal “Instagram” photo. But it was just so good.

The waiters I think were surprised to see two young girls walk in, and even more surprised when, after they told us they didn’t speak English, we sat down and stayed anyway. We used our trusty guidebook to help us figure out what we should order, and the results were glorious. We had a type of chicken dish with grilled cheese melted over the top and french fries.

Signing the Lennon Wall.

I’m looking forward to going back to Prague when I have visitors come. There is so much more to discover in that city, and for my next visit, going to some of the museums is at the top of my list.

A dream I never thought would come true did last week. I went to Hogwarts.

The Great Hall

Every year at the school where I teach, faculty and older students organize a welcoming party for the new first-year students. It’s called Imatrikulácie, and it has a different theme each year.

This year, it just happened to be Harry Potter-themed. I was in heaven.

Marauder’s Map

As soon as we walked into the building that evening, we could see we were no longer in just some ordinary school. Marauder’s Map was on the front door, and young wizards were roaming the halls nervously before the ceremony began (It is described as a sort of hazing ritual — not the kind of hazing you hear about in college, of course — so my first-year students were a bit nervous.)

We solemnly swore that we were up to no good.

Usually, the new students are playfully teased and embarrassed. This year, the students were sent to the Sorting Hat and divided into their respective houses (it was at this moment that I wished I was them — I’ve always wanted to be sorted by the Sorting Hat!). They then went and sat with their houses in the Great Hall, and each team competed against the others in a set of games.

This is where the embarrassment came in. The games were a bit messy.

But the students were good sports, and they all cheered the others on, especially their teammates. The atmosphere (maybe it had something to do with the Harry Potter music playing, too) really felt like Hogwarts. And you could feel the camaraderie in the air so much it was almost tangible.

I think that’s the thing I always liked so much about Hogwarts, too.

The school was decorated in funny and meaningful Harry Potter quotes, and I’ll end this post with one of my favorites, as said by Sirius Black:

“The world isn’t split into good people and Death Eaters. We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That’s who we really are.”

One of my students being sorted.

The last week has been filled with many wonderful surprises. During our first week here at orientation, we were told that we will experience many “highs” and “lows” during our journeys as missionary teachers. Right now, you could definitely say I’m on a “high.”

When I first arrived in Vienna, I got in around the same time as the wonderful Tim and Michelle Olson. I landed before them, and while our driver went to look for them elsewhere, I was given sign duty. I held up a handmade ELCA sign to try to flag them down. I remember standing there clutching my two, huge suitcases and trying to stay calm (“I really just got on a plane and did this?” I remember thinking to myself), when the Olsons walked up to me with huge smiles on their faces. I felt at ease immediately, and I felt like it was meant to be that I arrived at the airport with them.

They are teaching in Liptovský Mikuláš, a town in the north of Slovakia situated along the Vah River. It’s also named after Saint Nicholas, and is surrounded by the beautiful Tatras. The Olsons invited me to come visit them a few weeks ago, so I booked a ticket and left straight after school on Friday.

Even at the beginning of my journey, I came across the nicest people who were willing to help a lost foreigner. On the platform in Bratislava, a guy around my age helped me find my car and even walked me to my seat; and in my car on the train, a woman who didn’t speak much English made sure that I didn’t miss my train stop (no one was announcing the stops so I had to just keep looking out of the window to check the train stations).

She must have thought I was crazy, because I asked her about 10 times, “Liptovský Mikuláš?” while pointing to my ticket and out the window. I’m not entirely sure what she was telling me since she was speaking in Slovak, but I’m pretty sure it was, “No, not yet, you crazy American. I told you I would tell you when it was time.”

At the end of the four-hour train ride, she looked out the window for me again and told me that finally, my stop was here. I thanked her profusely in Slovak, she gave me a warm smile (I think she must be a mom), and then I headed off the train. The Olsons were waiting for me along the track with their own homemade ELCA sign waving. I was so happy to see them, and it was such a great welcome to their town.

Friday evening after I dropped my things off at their flat (which is surrounded by a 360-breathtaking view of the mountains and the freshest air I’ve ever inhaled), they took me to their favorite pizza place. It was so nice to catch up with them and to learn about their experiences in a different school and town. We hit the hay pretty early after dinner to prepare for our long day of hiking the next day.

Me with Tim and Michelle Olson, in their flat after they welcomed me to their town with a homemade ELCA sign (similar to the one I held to flag them down at the Vienna airport when we first arrived).

We woke up bright and early Saturday morning to get moving to our hiking destination. We took a bus from Liptovský Mikuláš to Závažná Poruba where we set off to hike 1,540 meters up to Poludnica Peak.

The amazing view I woke up to from Tim and Michelle’s flat.

We met a friendly and helpful Slovak lady at the bus stop, and she (and one of the Olsons’ students who we also came across) helped make sure that we got off at the right stop. She even brought us into a small hotel at the bottom of the hill to meet her cousins and to double-check with them that we were going to the right place.

Tim and I in front of a quaint hotel where we began our eight/nine-hour journey to Poludnica Peak.

Once we got on our way, the green and misty, rolling hills were all we could see. That, and a hot air balloon flying high above us. We snagged walking sticks once we realized we were going to need them.

The view from the beginning of our hike.

The guidebook said that the hike would take four-and-a-half hours, and that it was “moderate” with SOME steep ascents and descents. We decided about halfway through, however (when we realized we had just gotten to the top and it had taken three-and-a-half hours just to get there) that in America, we would describe the hike as much more than moderate.

All of the different views we came across, however, made it well worth the effort. Before we made it to the highest view, we came across an intriguing cave underneath a gigantic rock formation. Inside, we found an empty bottle of Slivovitz and tic tacs.

The view at the top was something in its own category. It was one of the most breathtaking pictures I have ever seen in person, and I wanted to soak it up as much as I could. You know those moments when you wish you could just freeze in time for a bit? This was definitely one of those moments for me.

The unbelievable (and slightly dangerous) view at the top of Poludnica Peak. You know when you take daring chances, so much so that you feel like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff? That’s how I would describe Poludnica Peak. And it was so invigorating.

We got a bit lost (there were just yellow and blue spray paint markings on trees along the path to guide us where to go) a few times, but there always seemed to be people who showed up just at the right time to offer us help. And, even though most of them knew little English (and us little Slovak of course), we always figured out a way to communicate with each other. It was always friendly, and the people were always willing to help us find our way.

One of the signs that directed us where to go next.

During the point when we were most lost, a girl we had come across earlier went out of her way to track us down and to physically show us the trail we needed to be on. She could have easily just noticed it, thought, “Eh, oh well,” and kept going along her way. We were so grateful.

Another man who we met near the end of our journey, between the little Slovak we knew and the little English he knew, managed to tell us that bears had been spotted in the area recently and that he found bear poop with corn in it to prove it. Yikes!  So, he told us, we had to be sure to talk loud and carry jingly things (he showed us his bells and demonstrated the horn around his belt). I immediately got out my keys to hang around my wrist the rest of the way.

At times it seemed like we would never make it back down to the bottom, especially near the end when we could feel our muscles screaming. At the beginning of the descent, I slid down a steep, muddy decline on my butt.

We found out that the week before a lady had wandered off the path and fallen to her death while picking cranberries, so I didn’t want to risk standing up too high (I decided early on that staying low would be my safety strategy).

Another time, we literally came across a 10-foot metal ladder that we had to use to get down another very steep decline. We laughed the whole way down, because, of course there would be a metal ladder along the way. Why wouldn’t there be?

Climbing down the 10-foot ladder.

Finally, after we thought we couldn’t walk any further (and we grew tired of ducking under tangled tree branches), we saw a break in the forest, and we walked out into a huge green field and to another wondrous view. We walked  into the town Il’anovo, where we downed three tall glasses of water while we waited for our bus back to Liptovský Mikuláš. I’ve got to say, that walk into town felt pretty cool. Like from the scene of a movie or something when the heroes walk in to some sort of badass song.

We made it!

Sunday morning, we went attended church at the local Lutheran church. The service was entirely in Slovak, so it was an interesting experience. It was also a learning experience though, because we read along as the people around us pronounced the words correctly. It wasn’t until the end of church when we could ask someone that we realized there were five pastors at church (and it was unusually long) because it was the church’s 227th anniversary. I guess I picked the right time to come!

In front of the Lutheran church with the Olsons.

After church we walked around town a bit and did some sightseeing. Because it was a bit rainy, we then decided to just hang out inside for the rest of the day (and taste delicious pastries with tea). It was a nice, relaxing Sunday after such an exhausting Saturday.

Being a dork in the centrum of town.

Because the Olsons are the only other American teachers in their town (unlike my situation in Bratislava, where there are nine other American teachers), it was so interesting to hear about their experience so far. It seems that they have the opportunity to get far more immersed in the Slovak culture, and even from just being there for a weekend, I felt like I learned so much about Slovakia.

Armed with encouraging words and teaching advice from the Olsons, I boarded my train home feeling refueled and ready to tackle the week ahead.

I even met a Slovak around my age after I saw her reading a Jane Austen book. We spent the rest of the ride teaching each other new Slovak and English words, and talking. In the middle of the conversation, her phone rang,  and it was her mom calling to check on her. That made me smile, because it’s something my mom would have done, too. We are all so much the same.

Hiking this trail (as cheesy as it sounds — and I know I’m going to gag a bit tomorrow when I re-read this), and the journey it took to get to and from Liptovský Mikuláš, is a metaphor for how we should view life. It is wonderfully surprising and at times terrifying, but we have to enjoy the journey and soak it all in. We have to take risks. It’s good to be a little scared and unsure every once in a while — it means you’re alive.

A few years ago, I could have never guessed that I would be in Slovakia, of all places, working as an English language instructor. Living in Eastern Europe as a missionary. Sharing a flat with two older ladies I hadn’t met before. Surrounded by so many opportunities to give and to learn.

One of my favorite quotes sums up my experiences this weekend, and they are the kinds of experiences I have been dreaming of:

“May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds, where storms come and go as lightning clangs upon the high crags, where something strange and more beautiful and more full of wonder than your deepest dreams waits for you — beyond that next turning of the canyon walls.”

Literally, or not.

1. Our colleague and friend Peter has started giving Slovak lessons for the Americans this school year, and I went to my first one last week. I learned half the Slovak alphabet and a few other phrases. The funniest one that sticks out in my mind is “rubber meat.” We will continue to have these classes twice a week, so I’m hoping to become more functional in Slovak.

2. Saturday, the director of our school had all the American teachers over for an annual welcome celebration. Her family cooked us a huge, delicious Slovak meal. One of my favorite dishes was grilled cheese (not like our grilled cheese) with jam on top. Grilled cheese with jam on top? It sounds weird, but it is actually a great combination. When I cut open the grilled cheese block, the cheese poured out. It was delicious.

Their home was beautiful, and the setting for the meal was in a nice, green courtyard with a long table under an awning. The table setting was so detailed, I almost didn’t want to messy it up by eating.

After the meal, we sat together and shared pleasant conversation over wine and Slivovitz. We also sang songs in the living room as the father played the piano. I forgot how much fun singing like that can be (even if I am tone deaf).

Their dog Bernie (a huge Bernese Mountain Dog) provided never-ending entertainment too, as he snatched up guests’ napkins from their laps and was constantly (but lovingly) being scolded by the family. The director’s daughter (a fifth-year student at the school) explained to us that once her brothers left for university, Bernie sort of became another child. I had to laugh, because that is exactly what my mom’s dog Augy became while I was away at school (or, as she calls him, “my brother”). It was also interesting to hear a dog scolded in another language.

Something that Andre, the director’s husband said during the toast before the meal that I think perfectly sums up our night was this: “In Slovakia, having guests in your home is like having God in your home.”

The super awesome train we took to Pezinok (where the dinner was).

3. I started reading Fahrenheit 451 this weekend. I really like the book, and I cannot imagine a world where books were banned. I hope it never exists. I am deciding whether to have my third-year students read either that, The Great Gatsby  or Catcher in the Rye. Any recommendations?

Think of your worst experience waiting at the DMV and then multiply it a couple of times.

That’s how many Americans have described the experience of going to the foreign police to start the visa process.

Before we arrived in Bratislava, we were required to secure certain papers for our visa (an apostilled birth certificate and an FBI background check to name a couple), but the rest of the process, we must complete here.

So, last week, Peter, our colleague and translator, took other American teachers and me to begin the fun last stage at the foreign police. I have heard a ton of stories about different people’s past experiences here, and some sounded quite humorous, while others sounded miserable.

The way that I looked at my experience, however, was, well, as just that — another new experience in Slovakia. I was prepared for the worst, but I was ready to laugh a lot and to just make the best out of it.

We arrived bright and early around 7 a.m. to wait outside the office (which hasn’t been renovated since I don’t even know when, and resembles a prison) to wait in line to pull numbers so we could wait in line to actually speak with an officer.

My number in the line to wait.

The lines were pretty much just chaotic clumps of people — most of who had no earthly idea what they were really supposed to be doing. When we first got there, we waited in one area for about 30 minutes, before being told that we were never really in line.

The actual building for the foreign police just looks like communism. It’s a weird bluish-green color, with bars on the windows and overgrown brush all over the walls. There is litter scattered all around it outside. It looks like an out-of-business prison.

The foreign police. Doesn’t it look so inviting?

Near where we waited in line, there were a few trees and bushes, that looked like the place where black market dealers may lurk. One of my colleagues joked that there was a guy back there making his living selling Slovak passports.

After pulling our numbers (mine was 100), all that was left to do was sit outside and wait. And wait, and wait, and wait, and wait.

People were scattered outside the building — some talking, some eating, and some sleeping under trees using their backpacks as pillows.

“Will we see an officer today, or won’t we?” was the question. In the past, people have waited outside for up to 10 hours only to find out that the office was closing before their number was called. So, they had to return the next day and start over — pulling a new number and everything.

You would think that with all the modern technology that we have today (i.e. computers), they would be able to come up with a more efficient and organized way of doing things, but, they haven’t yet.

Because, as with all things in Slovakia, change is a very slow, if sometimes non-existent process. If things have been done a certain way for decades, well, then that’s just the way they are done. Even if they no longer make sense for the year 2012. It doesn’t make sense to try to ask why here, because the only answer you’ll get is, “Because that’s the way it’s done.” It only makes sense to accept it and to go along for the ride.

The teacher whom I spent most of the day with and I really made the most out of our day stuck in visa purgatory, however. And ironically, it turned out to be one of the most fun days I’ve had in Bratislava.

After spending the first part of the day reading outside and talking with other expats playing the waiting game (we bonded in humor over the process with a very nice guy from Nigeria and a nice lady from the UK to name a couple), we decided it was time to spice things up a bit.

So, after taking a lunch break at a nearby pub and indulging in some pints, we found a small grocery (oftentimes called a potraviny in Slovakia) on our walk back that sold Burchak. Burchak is unfermented wine that is popular in Slovakia. It is very sweet (and strong).

Burchak is sold in giant water bottles here, and the store was selling its for pretty cheap. So, we decided it was necessary to buy ourselves a big water bottle, and off we went.

We became increasingly more slap happy as the day went on, taking turns sipping Burchak out of my coffee mug. And taking lurking in the bushes to refill the mug.

When our numbers were finally called, and it was time for us to go with our translator to speak with an officer, I think  the officers probably thought we had the wrong building. I’m willing to bet we were the happiest people the foreign police have ever seen.

On our way out, we even took a pit stop at the random jungle gym outside the building (Really, a jungle gym outside this building?) to take some funny photos. I have not laughed harder than I did while watching our older friend try to take a picture of us on my iPhone camera. Holding the phone up to his eye (like you would with a disposable camera), he kept coming closer and closer to us, saying that he couldn’t get us both in the picture. I could barely breathe because of how hard I was laughing, and I had to squeak out, “You have to back up to fit us both in.”

Just “hangin’ out” at the foreign police.

Our next stop was a visit to the bank to set up our accounts, so we can actually get paid and get a Slovak debit card (one with a chip in it that is often required at stores in Europe).

That consisted of a lot more laughter (I think our translator and friend was very entertained), mostly stemming from my poor attempts at speaking the little Slovak that I know.

So, as I’ve learned many times before this, even the most dreaded tasks and days can become one of the best if you just have the right attitude.

And a little Burchak doesn’t hurt, either.

It seems that with every problem, better education is always (at least partly) the solution.

Today, I went with another American teacher to a discussion about the future of Afghanistan after 2014. Even though nothing too earth-shattering was said, it was interesting to listen to a panel discussion in another language  (with headsets that we could listen to translators on, but hey, I recognized a few Slovak words).

The panelists were Andrej Bán, journalist and photographer for týždeň weekly; Sahraa Karimi, filmmaker; Vaughan Smith, war correspondent and founder of Frontline Club London; and Zaher Jaan Zaher, president of the World Afghan Professionals Organization.

All had relatively pessimistic views (which they acknowledged) about the state the country will be in after 2014 (when military troops are set to withdraw). But the bottom line, one of them said, is that none of the local people want a presence from the West.

Karimi said she feared that Afghanistan would be a fashion or trend that people would soon forget about after 2014. Similar to Vietnam, she said.

However, the speakers also said that the war has brought about some positive changes, like better roads and better education (particularly for girls and women).

Improved education, they said, such as teaching more people how to read and write, is one of the best things that can be done in Afghanistan. It is a way to help the Afghans help themselves. If they cannot read the Quran, how can they form their own interpretations of it?

It seems like everything comes back to education. And I am again reminded of how fortunate I’ve been to receive  one.

I’m also reminded of how many new learning opportunities (expected and unexpected) are in Slovakia — both for me as a teacher in the classroom and as an observer in the community.