You Had a Few Questions

Why did I go to Slovakia?

No matter how I explain that I am just a college graduate who decided to move to Slovakia, people always ask me 'why', like it's such a crazy thing to do. But honestly why not? I'm 23, I'm uninhibited. I'm not the kind of person who wants to do exactly what everyone else does like I'm coming down an assembly line. I don't want to be tied to my desk, striving for the monotony of normalcy because it's the path most traveled. I don't want to be normal, I don't want to live like everyone else, or follow anyone else's path. Following the path of your parents, idols, or mentors is a fantastic way to live if that's what you choose. You can have everything you want in life this way and be completely fulfilled and happy. But for me I know I'll always feel a longing for something more adventurous in a place that I haven't heard the story of yet. Slovakia was that for me.

How did I get the courage to come to Slovakia? 

I didn't see myself getting a job in the field I want to be in right out of college. I didn't think that I was good enough yet. My education was tremendous and I did everything I needed to do in college, but I knew I needed to feel a sense of purpose and I wasn't going to wait around in order to feel it. For me personally, going to Slovakia never seemed scary. I saw it as a new way to experience life that few people got and I had the chance to help kids doing it. To be honest I just sat down one day and told myself to let go of all of my hesitation and worry, and I trusted myself. I knew in my heart this was the best thing for me and I was unwilling to let it pass me by.

While I lived in Slovakia no one had to depend on me, and I didn't depend on anyone else. I got the freedom I've always wanted, and I really got to grow up. I knew living here would mean I was completely on my own. Normally that also scares me, but I just felt in my heart that I could do it. If that's what courage is then I have no idea where I got it. Maybe it was a confidence in myself, it might have also been recklessness. Like I said, I was 22, I didn't see anything holding me back. I saw this opportunity in front of me, so I just took it.

Am I going to be a teacher when I get back to America? 

I'm not qualified to be a teacher in America because I don't have a teaching certificate, so I couldn't even if I wanted to. I also just don't want to. Teaching is really hard, and there are much more qualified and talented teachers who should do it before me.

So if you're not going to be a teacher, what are you doing when you go back?

I am passionate about the non-profit community and am working toward a career in development/event planning. I don't expect to get that job immediately, but it is a goal I am working toward. When I return home I will be visiting with friends, family, and churches, and will fly to Las Vegas to spend time with my boyfriend who is a Park Ranger at Lake Mead in Boulder City, Nevada.

Are you coming back to Kosice? 

 Yes, I will be coming back to visit as soon as I can, but likely not as a teacher. I would love to come to school events and see how all of my students are doing, but it would be a short-term visit.


What is Slovakia like? 

I've made many observations, but I don't like to generalize a nation of people into stereotypes so I will focus on the physical aspects of Slovakia. I would compare the weather to Chicago. Four full seasons, VERY windy.
There are so few Slovak flags here versus the U.S., I don't think Slovakia is unpatriotic, but America just has flags everywhere. Have you been to an American car dealership? Just one American truck dealership has as many flags as I've seen this entire time I've been here.

The infrastructure is difficult to explain, but I know much of it is the direct result of the influence of Communist rule. The roads are generally nice. I would say as nice if not better than roads in an upper middle-class neighborhood. Potholes get fixed and city workers are completing projects around my house all the time. The sidewalks are sometimes nice, but generally ignored, and there are quite a few overgrown, weed covered areas.

There are many streets in Kosice I feel totally safe walking down, but others I wouldn't go anywhere near.The buildings go one of two ways, They're either ignored and falling apart, graffiti everywhere, but decent yet outdated on the inside, or they're pristine with graffiti and outdated yet decent on the inside. 80% of the time they are falling apart. But the graffiti doesn't discriminate much on the buildings. The main street of the city is the only place I don't see much graffiti, and that's just the front of the buildings, the sides of every single building with the exception of one cathedral, the mall, and the train station, are solid graffiti. The thing that bothers me most about it is that it's not graffiti art, it's gibberish tagging. I know I wouldn't understand the Slovak anyway, but when it's just shapes and nonsense lines it's pretty obviously not the next "I love you so much" sign.

 I still get the sense of imminent stranger danger all the time here. Almost every single time I sit down in a public place (the park, the mall, a bus stop) a man (usually drunk and smelly) comes up and stands very close to me and starts badgering me with questions in whichever language he chooses. This isn't the same park bench each time, these are completely different places on different days all during daylight with many other people around. The only way I get out of these situations unscathed is by waiting for a young man around my age (best chance of them speaking English) and motion for them to help me. It has worked every single time, I just wish it didn't have to.



What about the food? 

This culture is very meat and potatoes the way the surrounding cultures are (like Germany/Poland), but they embrace foods from all over the world just as Americans do where I live. There is pizza, sushi, Chinese, Indian, Kebab (a lot of Kebab actually), Burgers, and traditional Slovak food.
Many people ask how the pizza is- it's more true to Italy than American pizza is in it's construction and simplicity, but America is more accurate about the ingredients. I don't really get it but here and in England they're always putting corn on the pizza. Like canned corn.

What is something you're not looking forward to about coming home?

There are many things, but the biggest, which I've come across with Americans before I even left, is that everyone thinks Slovakia is completely identical to the Czech Republic. I used to think the same way, and Czechoslovakia split before I was even born. I could tell you a bit about the Czechs, but nothing about Slovaks. Now it is the opposite. So many people I know are proud Czechs (congrats, you're from a beautiful, peaceful nation with fun art), and they talk to me about the language, the food, everything. We have some of the same food here, and it's awesome food, good job there, but the language is completely different. Can I tell the difference? No.

What is the best thing about Slovakia?

The people. 

Do I miss Slovakia? 

It has only been three days but I do miss Slovakia very much. The cars were quieter, the people didn't stare so much, the buildings are historical and (sometimes) beautiful, and the coffee is always so fancy. Of course I already miss my co-workers, students, and friends very much.

Wanted

I've been asked by people in Slovakia and in the States how I feel about coming home. But they aren't actually asking me. Everyone assumes I am jumping up and down like a child at the mere thought of going home. I think part of that question is asked in hopes that I want to come home because I miss it and I miss the people, maybe they want to be flattered. How crazy would it be to say that going home isn't 100% what I wanted?

I miss many things about home, I miss my boyfriend, my friends, my family, native English-speakers. I need to go home to see them and re-kindle those relationships before they fall apart, but there's such a big part of me that is so in love with my life here, waiting a little longer doesn't seem so bad.



I might have gotten lucky that it's been overcast and cold here for the past few days because I haven't really gotten out of bed. I don't really think it is my ever-looming depression. I think I am grieving for my life here, even though it isn't quite over yet. I don't want to go anywhere because I will just cry, thinking this is the last time I will ever see it. Crying in public isn't really my style.

I feel a constant pull by the people in my life and I've never felt that before at all. As a kid I felt wanted by my family and absolutely no one else so I worked my hardest to please them. As a teenager I felt wanted by no one at all, and that took me to some extremely dark places that I won't dwell on in this blog post. As a young adult I felt wanted by friends so I did whatever I needed to please them. Now I feel wanted by everyone in my life for the first time, and while it makes me feel like the absolute coolest kid in town, I also feel guilty because no matter what I will be letting someone down.

Once I graduated I felt an overwhelming need to be there for myself for once. I had to get out and stop worrying about how to please my family or my friends, I could just do what I wanted- so I did. I've been on top of the world for 11 months and it's been the best time of my whole life. Yet now I'm here in this new land where I've created MY own little home, and I feel like I'm abandoning a piece of my soul.

I am really used to not feeling wanted. My natural setting in life is single, alone, independent, etc.. I never necessarily liked that, but it is the way it has always been. So when the opportunity came to go to Slovakia I felt no hesitation to stay. My friends were busy and stable, as were my parents, and my boyfriend and I were doing completely fine with our daily Skype calls before work. I wouldn't call that being wanted, I'd just call that being 'around'. I'm not saying in any way that this was a bad feeling, or that I wished I was needed more, or that I have been neglected in my life. But people seemed content with just a 'how are you' every few days and that was it.

But in the past few weeks that all changed. I didn't really think that my students ever liked me that much. I was nice to them and I helped them with some personal issues here and there, and they smiled at me and were polite. But I didn't equate that to admiration or favor, I just thought they were nice kids. One by one in random times and places they have been coming to me and telling me that they are sad that I have to go and really want me to come back next year. Some of them have thanked me for helping them with things in their lives, and some of them even want to read more of this silly blog once I get home. I'm just a 23-year old with this weird non-profit degree from Texas. What did I do that would make them say that? I'm not that good of a teacher, I don't even know what an adverb is. How could I possibly be wanted?

When I decided to go to Slovakia it wasn't a difficult choice at all. Nothing was keeping me in America, I didn't have a boyfriend at the time I made the decision, and I never thought I'd be important to anyone so leaving wasn't going to be a big deal. Now I feel like a monster for wanting to leave these kids, and this job where I actually feel like I'm not a total wreck.

But I also feel like a monster for even thinking about staying when I have a boyfriend who calls me every morning and lists off five new things we are going to go see when I come back. My grandma asks when I am coming back every single time I call, and all she does is tell me how much she misses me. I never thought I would be missed. My friends have other friends that could help them with what they needed, my parents never complained. I thought all I had to worry about was seeing my boyfriend and making myself happy and I could just put everyone else in a little box under my bed and that would be good enough.

Turns out those people don't like being in boxes. They need to feel wanted too. As the timer started ticking closer and closer to the time I fly home, people started telling me how much they want to see me and how glad they are that I'm finally coming home. I had no idea. I thought it wasn't a big deal at all that I left. Eric and I were going to move to Washington and get an amazing dog and live in a real-life Instagram photo where everything is green and the food is expensive but it's okay because it's the kind that won't give you cancer. But after a few conversations with people I realize that I completely misunderstood them all along. I never knew how much it hurt people that I left, they were just too kind to hold me back.

I had been thinking to myself on many different occasions, why did God bring me on this journey?

For so long I had no answer for that at all.  I thought this trip to Slovakia was about helping people, and yeah, I think I did a bit of that. But I think much more so, I believe God made a fundamental change in me. He helped me see after all this time that I am worth investing in, that I make a difference to people, that people want me around. I couldn't be more blessed to have that realization in my life. It's painful to think that I have to leave a place that I turned into my own personal home, but life evolves and so do people. Now it is time to wait and see where God is sending me next.

The Month of May

It’s honestly been tearing me up inside realizing that I will be going home to Texas so soon. I love my home and need to return to the people I value so much in my life like family, friends, and my boyfriend, but I feel an immense amount of love in this place too.

I didn’t expect that any of my students would care when I announced I wouldn’t be returning next year. I don’t consider myself a bad teacher, but I’m just a 23 year old with some cute degree from a small college that really doesn’t apply to this field. I never learned anything about teaching. I never even took English or history in college and now here I am teaching it. My expectations here were to blow students minds about how cool America is with our big states and our extreme foods and eccentricities.

It took me until recently to recognize that my job isn’t to impress them and convince them America is great, or was (but that’s another story). My job is just to educate them and to encourage them to explore the world, even if it isn’t at Mount Rushmore or over a batch of fried oreos at a state fair. I think changing that mindset and beginning to analyze not only what my purpose is as a teacher, but what the students needed from me has rewarded me immensely.

I finally began to open up to the students as a mentor as well as a teacher. I’ve had students come to me seeking guidance and advice and that really shocked me. I didn’t expect to be taken seriously as a confidant for my students. But it is the best part of my whole job. Helping people is my passion and I feel like I am really accomplishing something here in that capacity.

I have so many plants growing out on my back porch right now. Most of them grew as weeds from my more successful plants from the market. Many of them have already fully developed into what I call “surprise plants” because it’s a complete mystery what they’ll grow into. I started panicking thinking about what to do with all these plants once I have to leave. I will package up quite a few of them and gift to the people who have helped me in my time here, but others I will to sell to raise money for a rescue dog and subsequent expenses once I get home. I might have already picked a name for the dog- “Slanina” which is a very beautiful Slovak word for ‘bacon’.

I try to walk around downtown every day that I can. I tell myself it’s for exercise but I know it’s because if I skip a day when I go home I might long for it even more. I don’t want to miss out on any memories here.

I am over the moon happy that I finally had a friend who got to visit and experience this amazing city. My friend Wesley from TLU just completed grad school and made a trip to Europe his gift to himself. It was probably the best week I’ve had here because I finally got to do all of the activities around town that are only fun with multiple people. We climbed to the top of St.Elizabeth's Cathedral (the largest cathedral in Slovakia) and saw breathtaking views of the city. I spent wayyyy too long pointing out all the insignificant places I’ve been to Wesley, but he was a great sport and listened the whole time. I gave him a sample of all of my favorite restaurants in the city, and best of all, we went all the way out of town to this extreme toboggan course where you go up to 50 kph on a sled with no seat belts. If you know me well you wouldn’t be surprised to know that not only did I fly off the toboggan twice, but I also crashed into Wesley during a race at 38kph when he was slowing down to accommodate a senior who was in front of him. Neither of us were hurt at all, but I did win the race and didn’t have to pay for dinner that night.

I also had the opportunity while I was here to make some great friends at work. One of my coworkers Ludovit (or Ludo as we call him) set up a trip for us and two of our students to hike the High Tatras a few hours away. Slovakia isnt a particularly proud country, and nothing compared to Americans, but if they are proud of one thing (besides their alcohol) it’s the High Tatras. The High Tatras are the Alps of Slovakia. They’re a tiny chain of mountains in the north that are very popular for hiking, skiing, thermal spas, and much much more. My students had been nagging me to go to the Tatras all year. SO I WENT!

I was not happy with Ludo when he told me we’d be meeting at 5am on my one day off that week. But when I arrived he was in his special Slovak hiking pants (which are really common here) and was already walking with his hiking poles, which was funny because we were at a train station in a valley three hours from the mountains, so that made up for the 5am meet up time. We ended up taking two different trains to the Tatras, and a fancy ski lift from one small village to the one where the trail began. The trail wasn’t long, but it was very steep. We passed a gorgeous waterfall along the way and really didn’t see any wildlife except for a rare neon slug my student saw along the path, but it was a sunny day and we had amazing views, so it was fantastic.

It’s more difficult than I thought it would be to start reckoning with myself that I’m leaving in 6 weeks. I packed up most of the decorations in my room and all of my winter clothes and souvenirs in an effort to force myself to deal with these emotions. But it’s hard. It’s just as hard as leaving college if not worse. People say all the time “oh this place is my second home” and I thought I felt that way a few times like when I studied abroad or when I worked at camp in the summers, but this is way beyond that. It’s not just a physical place I’ve lived in for a year. It the place where I was truly and completely on my own. I don’t have anyone to cook me dinner when I have the flu, I don’t know the equivalent of 911 in Slovakia, I don’t have someone to hold me if I get a call that someone at home passed away, I don’t have someone to bail me out of jail or come and get me from the train station after some creep wouldn’t leave me alone. These are things I figure out on my own. People say living as an adult is tough learning experience, well yeah it is. But doing it alone, and on a completely different continent from anyone who even shares your last name? THAT made me grow.

I’m not saying in any way that people who don’t do these things, or do them differently are in any way weak, lesser, or anything negative at all. But I can say for me and me alone, I have become a version of myself that I am really proud of. I know for a fact now that I can live independently, I can work out problems that I used to push off onto other people, I don’t have to hide from things that intimidate me or are scary because they are new. I can’t, everything here is new.

I have said before that I didn’t really think moving here would be that hard. And it wasn’t. I thought that the homesickness a few months into my journey here was the most challenging thing I’d face here, but it isn’t. I think by far the hardest thing I will ever do here is leave.

I became a true adult here. I made a home here in this little flat above the cafeteria kitchen. This honestly is my second home. It’s really difficult to think that just a few weeks after I leave there will be a new teacher moving into the tiny room I called my sanctuary. The room I decorated with broken cds I found in the living room, and this funny framed stock photo of Hilary Duff. This is my home, this is my job. And I really love it, but it’s time for me to accept that it’s going to belong to someone else soon.

I will be coming home on July 7th. I’ll arrive form Dallas and my mom will drive me back to Seguin to stay for a few weeks before I fly to Vegas to visit my boyfriend at Lake Mead. It is our one year anniversary today and it’s funny to me to think that 3/4 of our relationship has been spent smiling at him through a computer screen. But he is very worth it, and I think you all will think so too.

I am spending my free evenings right now exploring job opportunities within the non-profit fundraising/development field. It’s my biggest dream in life and one that I hope I can make a reality within the next few months. I’m not sure where exactly it will be yet, but don’t be surprised if it’s somewhere crazy. I did go to Slovakia after all, who knows where God is sending me next?

My Favorite Place/How I've Been

Going to the San Dominico Market is by far my favorite activity here. I love how simple it is. That in the middle of Old Town in this busy city there are dozens of vendors of all ages set up in these simple old stalls that have been here longer than I've been alive. 

This place is so romantic. There are no frills here, no big signs or people harassing you to buy worthless Knickknacks to turn an almost non-existent profit. You’ll never see a sale sign, or 'buy one get one free' You don’t have to haggle for a good price, these people know their item’s worth, and price their items well. 

There is not one market day that I am not thinking of the economics behind these places. I want to know how it all works. It’s fascinating to think about where each of these vendors might come from. Is this their main source of income? Is this sustainable? Is it organic? 

These aren’t questions I can go up and ask. So I’ll just remain curious.

I've been going to the market almost every week that I've been here aside from the winter months when the market is almost non-existent.  

I'm a people watcher, and a trend seeker. So over time I've began to notice that there are certain types of vendors and they all function in about the same way. I've created a list of the different types of sellers I've noticed. They don't ALL follow these trends, but most all do. 

Dried-Flower Lady

Basket Guy

The big booths that sell one basic kind of item. There is the basket guy, the herb people, the cut flower ladies, the crochet baby items lady, and the dried flower arrangement lady (All middle aged or older)

The big booths that sell small plants or fruits and veggies at fantastic prices (usually young people)

Finally we have my favorite- the small booths and

people who just set up a chair on the sidewalk or take the end of an unused booth. They sell odds and ends like beans, fruits and veggies from their own small garden, or a few cut flowers (probably also from their small garden) and are always old people. 

I try to get to the market at about 9:30 every Saturday, which is the busiest market day. I don’t know when they set up, but it seems that at 11:45 some sort of warning bell sounds that only they can hear  and the majority of vendors pack up rapidly. It’s always the young vendors with the big booths first. The older ones don’t seem to be in any kind of rush. The only exception to that is the older people with the makeshift booths who don’t have much to sell in the first place.

The patrons of the market are equally as interesting. It seems like the market is on everyone’s agenda. There are plenty of young couples and families with young kids. The kids are often on bikes or left to play in the open area where they climb on the old fountains freely. They are so carefree. Their parents aren’t constantly holding their hands or yelling at them to get down or be quiet, but they don’t need to. The kids are just being kids. They aren’t disruptive or at any real risk of hurting themselves.  I’m envious of how much fun they seem to be having.

Just as commonly as you see children, you will see dogs as well. Typically they’re small because most people live in apartments. They’re most often with the older people or young couples. I find it interesting how few dogs are on leashes here. The dogs follow along their owner like they are on an invisible leash. Never misbehaving or getting far ahead or behind. I don’t know how they do it, but it’s almost surreal to see it.

I don’t know if people come in looking for certain things when they come here, but like me, I think most people just come to browse. The vendors aren’t aggressive so you can go from booth to booth without feeling any pressure to buy.

 Some people come with baskets (that they probably bought from the basket guy) but many others just carry reusable bags from Tesco or accumulate cheap produce bags that the vendors pack your things in without even asking. I was surprised by this because everywhere else I’ve been you’ve always had to pay for the bags, but here it’s standard practice. I try to refuse the bags as much as possible and carefully arrange my items in my wicker basket. I know I’m not saving the whole ocean or anything, but it feels nice to do what I can.

I’ve been sitting here at a small cafe for about two hours now. It’s 11:45 which means the mass pack up has begun. These vendors aren’t the type to just sit on a stool and wait for someone to come by. They are constantly re-adjusting their display after each purchase. Bringing more and more out from the invisible magic boxes they have hidden behind the booths. They don’t just display the best stock and keep the ugly things in the back, they seem to cycle through an constantly changing variety of products. All of fantastic quality.

I’m curious where all of these vendors and their products come from. Many have small trailers that attach to the back of cars that they pull crates of products out of and repack at noon. Other vendors just carry their products around in large grocery bags. Are they coming from the villages? Large farms? Do they have their own stores and this is just as side business for some of them? I really have no idea.

The only vendors I can unquestionably peg are the 'end of the booth/sidewalk set-up with a chair and table' older people. I see them with their push carts walking with me to the market in the morning. They come from the countless multi-story apartments in this area, and grow their products on their porches and the community gardens at the front entrances. For them I am confident that this is just a hobby to fill the time on a Saturday. None of them sell enough to make more than maybe 10 euro a day, and they don’t appear to be desperate for the money. The sidewalk ladies with the little stations sell tiny vegetables or flower arrangements, and spend the morning chatting with the ladies around them. They don’t have much all together and rarely stay more than a few hours.

There are other vendors who seem much more desperate. Every once in a while you will see someone just standing and holding some small vegetables, magazines, or beans. Begging for a sale. I think they’d certainly get a sale if they sold something different. But they are few and far between, and usually aren’t at the market for long.

This market is something that I will miss hugely once I come home. This place is so much more than the place to go to get some beets and watch people while I drink ginger tea. It is a melting pot of people and culture. It’s a place to learn about how this community works, and see just how similar it is to the places I call home. I don’t come from a town that has many markets. It’s just not part of the culture, it’s too hot. But this is people’s livelihood here. You can see the passion these vendors have for their products, and they don’t seem to be about the money at all. They are tremendously proud of the things they are selling. You can clearly sense the validation they feel when people by their items because it shows that other people see value in the things they grow or make as well. 

There were a few times when I was walking through and thinking about how much I’d enjoy having my own little booth. What would I sell? Who would see value in the things that I love? Is my American point of view something desirable or detrimental in this society? I don’t know the answers to that yet. I just know that the sense of romance I feel in this place comes from humility and passion of the people who fill these stalls. They’re not salesmen, they’re artists. They don’t have budgets or long lists of sales goals or dreams of massive wealth and prosperity. I don’t think these people are lusting after the American Dream we assume everyone wants. They’re just living, and that is really beautiful to me.

If you came here to read about me and how I am doing, I will summarize it a bit for you. I believe I'm finally feeling at home here and starting to become a part of this community. I feel accepted, I feel important, and a huge part of that is due to the people around me. I never thought I'd see so much kindness here. People go out of their way to help me all the time, and this place is really starting to feel like a second home. I've been struggling for the past few months with the question of whether or not I should stay here another year, and it has kept me up at night many times. There is so much purpose for me here. I feel like I'm really helping people and doing meaningful things. But I feel a sense of guilt that I am not doing enough for my friends and family back home.

 It is tremendously difficult to continue relationships with people who I never see and are 7 hours apart from me. I have a grandmother who really misses me, and I can rarely talk to her because she doesn't have the technology. I have a really fantastic boyfriend and parents who really deserve to see me. I feel like the longer I am here the more I am putting off my life back home. So I've decided I need to go back to Texas. 

This was one of the hardest decisions I've had to make. My students are very upset with me, and I feel like I am letting my co-workers down a bit. My boss told me her dream is to see me get married and have children here and stay here forever. I'd love to do that. But I'd have to bring all of Texas over here with me. 

 I will miss them so very much. I've already bought my one-way ticket home, but still catch myself thinking about how wonderful it would be to stay. I stay positive about it by reminding myself that I can always return. I will always have a place here. 

I only have a few weeks left until I begin to pack up. I will start looking for jobs soon. My boyfriend has a job at Lake Mead in Nevada, so I will be working on finding a job in that area. I also really want to get a dog. I will save the sap and waterworks for my next few posts, so look forward to those. 

As always, if you would like to write me just let me know and I will give you my address. The school is looking for two more teachers to take my place in the coming year. It is a really incredible opportunity for people from all walks of life. We have people in this program that are married, retired, single, and some have children and pets with them. This certainly isn't just a one-year job for young graduates. It's for everyone. If this interests you and you'd like to know more I would be happy to answer any questions you have. 

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It's Been a While

I want to start this post off with an apology for not posting for such a long time. These past few months have been hectic. I've finally got the hang of things at school, I've successfully ordered delivery, and I'm finally starting to study Slovak. I'm about a fluent as a dog to be honest. It's a very complicated language and with my time here quickly fading, I fight with myself over the effort being worth it at all.
In a sad bit of news, the only decent grocery store within walking distance to my house, a retro 4 story Tesco, which has a conveyor-belt for shopping carts to the dry food/alcohol/snacks in the basement (my favorite section), is being converted into businesses. I will dearly miss the convenience of being able to read the labels on items (as Tesco is a British store, so the store-brand is in English), and being able to buy Ben and Jerry's ice cream when I am really feeling homesick. I'd buy it more often but it is about double the price it is back home.

I am sitting here writing in my office during what would usually be the middle of a busy school day. However, today is the day of the written Maturita. The graduation exams for the 5th year students. So about 95 percent of the students are off campus today doing various field trips, while the graduating students sit and wait to begin the test. They look so nervous. The custom here is to dress up for these tests, so all of the students look like they are going into the biggest job interviews of their lives, wearing gorgeous coats and bow ties, carrying cakes, and giving each other good luck handshakes. To my surprise they aren't walking around with stacks of books and downing cup after cup of iced coffee. That isn't much of a cultural norm here. They have their one cup at home and it's done. It's so strong here they really never need more than one.

The coffee here is much more refined than American coffee in my opinion. Not in the way it is brewed, but in the way it is served. This is not a culture of 'venti caramel macchiato frapps with extra whip', or whatever that awful Unicorn thing is. The coffee here is served to you the same way they'd serve a dessert in a fine restaurant. The quantity is conservative, but it is presented very elegantly. Almost always in a clear glass, with layers of coffee, cream, etc., and a small shot-glass of water on the side of a gorgeous silver platter. With most coffee you will also get a variety of sugar and a small cookie on the side. It would never be larger than a size small in the States. Looking back I don't see why we need those almost liter-sized coffees, which are honestly just a milkshake with an optional coffee flavor. I don't see myself going back to the American ideal of coffee. The way they do it here is exactly the way I like it. Maybe if you visit me when I come back I will make one for you!

Like the coffee, the food in general here is much less gimmicky and consumer-oriented than in America, They don't create a new flavor of cereal or candy or soda every few months to keep people buying, They trust that people will buy what they want and need, and that they will always have a customer buying corn flakes and orange Fanta. They don't need to add apple flavor or make the bag supersized to keep people buying. They also don't add nearly the same amount of preservatives as they do back home. I was shocked when I came here how fast the bread and meat here goes bad. Bread lasts 4 days if I'm lucky, chicken has 2 to 3 days. I don't know everyone's ideas of food-safety or freshness within their own homes, but I was very inconvenienced by this. At first I was upset about it because I barely had anything left to eat half-way through the week because I only went to the store on Sundays. But I learned that in a place where food doesn't last as long, I have to go much more often. It has been a great lesson in budgeting, shopping for the right quantities, and I'm buying only what I need and I know I can eat.

If you've kept an eye on my Facebook you might have noticed I haven't been traveling much lately. I haven't gone anywhere since I've come back from my Christmas trip with my mom. There is a lot behind that. I think the biggest reason is that after my negative experience in the Berlin train station, I really get anxious at the thought of travelling alone. I thought my fears would subside as time passed, but it seems lately that the more I go outside my comfort zone in the city, the more incidents I have with creepy-drunken middle-aged men.

 Just this weekend I decided that I was sick of being hold up in my apartment, so I took my Slovak study guide and stopped in the park after a quick trip to the store. I just sat there reading and this man came up to me and pestered me with question after question in Slovak. I showed him my study guide, and explained that I didn't know what he was saying, hoping he would leave me alone. But each time he would stumble off he would turn back around in his urine and beer stained sweatsuit and pester me again. I was visibly agitated and was looking for  a way to get him to leave, or for me to escape, but he was blocking my only way home and he was a really big man. At one point he sat next to me and touched all of my bags, asking me something about them. Finally I just ignored him. He got up, came over to me and kissed me on the cheek and gave me a very uncomfortable hug and sat right back down next to me. Then a young guy walked by and the man stopped him to get him to translate for him. Desperate, I told him I had no idea who this man was, I didn't want him talking to me, and if he would please help me get away from him. I was very lucky that the guy spoke English. The drunken man apparently wanted cigarettes from me (although I don't smoke), then he wanted to buy the flowers I had in my bag. It was bizarre. I asked of the man would walk with me to the end of the street so I could get away from the drunk man, and he was happy to help. I found out he was a graduating doctoral student at the local University from Greece. He told me that these guys come up and harass people all the time. Unfortunately I already knew that as it's happened to me quite a few times before.
It is very very frustrating to be subjected to these creepy drunken men so frequently in public. It was noon on a Sunday, I was sitting on a bench in the park with a book. It wasn't midnight, I was three blocks from my house. This shouldn't happen. I don't know if it was my gender, age, or the fact that I was alone that made it the scariest. But honestly each time this happens my life flashes before my eyes and I think I'm going to get seriously hurt or die. I live in a nice part of town, in a gated building. I hate the idea that that is the only place I might be safe. I want to explore my city, my country. But is it worth it? It's infuriating to me that I'm not even sure. I'm in Europe, I'm young, I have holidays and long weekends when I should be out exploring. But for the most part I don't even want to anymore, I get too much anxiety and don't want to waste the money. Sometimes I feel like I'm being a coward, but am I really? If I can't explore my own city without being harassed and fearful for my life, what awaits me in the rest of the world? I don't even like to think about it. Maybe I will just wait until next time when someone is with me.

Not much else is happening here. I've announced to my students that this will be my only year here, and that I will be returning home to Texas in July. Quite a few of them are pretty upset about it. I struggled a lot with the idea of staying at least another year here. I like my co-workers, my students. the city. But my friends and family want me home, and I am starting to see a clear path into my future. Getting a job, an apartment, a dog. It's something I don't want to wait for. So I will do my best to learn and grow my absolute most while I'm still here, that way I will have even more to share when I come home.