An American in Slovakia @anamericaninslovakia - Tumblr Blog

Zilina, Slovakia

The village of Terchová in the Malá Fatra mountain range, Slovakia. Statue of the Slovakian Robin Hood - Juraj Jánošík, a famous highwayman and defender of the poor.

July 2017

leregretdestempspasses

Žilina, Slovakia

anamericaninslovakia

I miss this place.

The End

As I sit here, safely tucked away in my childhood bedroom among my belongings, I keep returning to last month in my mind, and I am forced to make sense of my experience in Slovakia.

Incredible loneliness. Sadness beyond comprehension. BUT. But. Such purpose. Such adventure! What joy, at times, and what simplicity. My reduced life.

My soul needed this year, in all of its divine loneliness and wondrous solitude. I lived in a new way. I felt everything so fully. Going to the store to buy food was a monumental task. Connecting with a student provided a high that lifted my spirits through the entire week. In fact, connecting with anyone was an achievement. The highest of highs and the lowest of lows are each remarkable. I will wear them like bruises and badges for the rest of my life.

Crying myself to sleep in the eternally chilly fall, questioning my purpose in that tiny little room I called “home,” losing myself in the miracle of the mountains, laughing with friends on our travels to awe-inspiring cities across Europe… so many moments of intense emotion.

I remember first feeling loved by my students. They laughed at my dumb and dorky jokes, and asked me questions without fear. It felt amazing to gain their trust, earn their respect, and in some cases, win their friendship. For every time I felt frustrated by the fourth year students, the first, second, and third years made me feel appreciated and validated.

I remember when I first felt comfortable with my students in English club. We laughed and they spoke exclusively in English, so I would feel included. I’ve never been a foreigner in unfamiliar territory before this year. The small kindnesses you experience as an outsider are enough to melt your heart. The little things really do make a difference. I want to help international students feel at home in my country. I want to do that for my career… can I do that? I like to think I’d be quite good at it, having this experience under my belt.

It is kind of unfair that my life in Slovakia now feels like an entirely separate lifetime. I invested so much time and energy, and now it’s nothing but a blur. The transition to “normal” life has been relatively smooth, but I occasionally experience moments of strange emotion. However, I will admit that it feels great to to be in one place. As much I enjoyed the spontaneity of living out of a literal suitcase (okay, TWO suitcases), it feels wonderful to be still. To remain. To have deep roots in a place and to know the back roads and the shortcuts and to know the land like you know your own body.

There is a single sweetness I find in looking at my bookshelves, seeing all of my books sitting there, attentive and waiting, right where I left them last fall. There is beauty and satisfaction in a bike ride at dusk through the neighborhood where I grew up. There is contentment in sipping coffee from my own mug, in my own kitchen. There is joy in hugging the ones I love, not merely hearing their fuzzy voices over FaceTime once a week. Simplicity, I suppose, can be found all over the world. Yet there is something special about that precious combination of simplicity and familiarity… too precious to give up.

So. How to explain this experience? How to sum up my year in Slovakia? It is an impossible task. I don’t have anything profound to offer, but perhaps the most important lesson I have learned is this: It is good to be an outsider, for a time. I have emerged a more empathetic, more adaptable person. And I am exponentially stronger, in mind and in soul.

Dovidenia, Slovensko. You have a permanent place in my heart, and I will never forget all that you taught me.

thoughts

Saying goodbye is so odd.

Like, I’ve been on the outskirts of these people’s lives for one year, but they have been at the center of my life. Isn’t it funny? Now I really understand how international students feel.

I just had the sweetest moment saying goodbye to the nice reception lady at the front desk of my building. There are about six different ladies who run the front desk, and most of them never speak to me. This lady, however, is always sweet and friendly. She always calls me “Kristine” and we talk in broken Slovak together because she doesn’t know any English.

I had just walked into the building, and it occurred to me that this might be the last time I’d see her. So I asked her if she works tomorrow night, and she said no. I ran to my room to get her the card and chocolate I prepared for her.

When I gave her the small gift, she opened the card and read my poorly-translated Slovak goodbye/thank you card. She exclaimed “Kristine!” and started to cry! Of course, I immediately started bawling. Like, full-on ugly crying. We hugged twice. No words were exchanged at this point -- they weren’t necessary. Such a simple interaction. Compassion and gratitude are the language of humanity.

Her kindness did NOT go unnoticed. I will never forget how welcome she made me feel.

Is it odd that I feel closer to this woman, with whom I can barely communicate, than to my host teacher or some of my colleagues?

I want to be the Nice Reception Lady when I grow up. I want to help international students feel at home when they are hundreds of miles away from anything familiar.

This is all so bittersweet.

#reflection #personal #english teaching #english teaching abroad #fulbright eta #fulrbight #eta #english teacher #year teaching abroad #Slovakia #fulbright slovakia #Fulbright U.S. Student Program

Vysoke Tatry

Two weekends ago, I ventured out to the High Tatras with three friends. We planned on climbing Krivan, the Slovak national mountain (yes, they have a national mountain -- isn’t that badass?). Although it was supposed to rain, we decided to go ahead and book the accommodation and take our chances. Everyone hikes Krivan. It’s the Slovak thing to do. So we had to try.

Here is Strbske Pleso, the lake at the base of the mountain range. This was our starting point.

Friends. Let me tell you how this hike went.

This was the single hardest physical thing I’ve ever done. I am SO glad I didn’t realize how difficult this climb would be, because I probably wouldn’t have agreed to do the hike if I knew the EXTREME PHYSICAL PAIN that awaited me on that chilly, sunny morning.

Let’s start with this pic:

So there’s Krivan. Pretty epic, right? It’s a stunning peak, ranked as the most beautiful of the Tatras, and it sits at 2,495 meters. Impressive as heck.

Now, I didn’t realize that this hike would be so intense. I consider myself an outdoorsy person. Sure, I like hikes, walks in the woods, walking the dog, running outside, etc. BUT. But but but. This is a different kind of outdoorsy, people. This hike takes most people, on average, about 4.5 hours just to get to the peak.

The two guys who accompanied me on this adventure are experienced outdoors-men: one is an eagle scout, the other is a regular backpacker. I felt very safe going with them, but they moved a bit too fast for me. I’m glad they were with me, though, because they knew much more about the overall experience than I did.

I was always far behind them... :)

The hike itself gets steep pretty quickly, which is something I didn’t expect. And the path is not a path at all, it’s a trail. You have to follow the markers on rocks and trees and whatnot in order to stay on the trail. This was a new concept to me. Every hike I’ve ever been on has involved a paved or gravel or dirt path that is obvious and clear. Once we got to the steepest incline near the top of the mountain, we had to stop every so often and search for the next trail marker in order to stay SAFE and remain on the proper path.

I’m thankful that I even made it to the peak. The boys definitely pushed me, but I needed that extra boost. At one point, when the cliffs were so steep and we were literally climbing on all fours, I jokingly said “Guys, what happens if I fall? What’s the worst case scenario? I roll down the snow and meet you guys at the bottom?” LOL it was THAT steep and kinda scary, honestly.

ABOVE THE CLOUDS - HELL YEAH

We saw some interesting wildlife on the hike as well. Many little groundhog-like creatures poked their heads out from the rocks to greet us, especially as we neared the top. They always scurried away before I could grab a photo, but i did capture this mountain goat on camera. He was VERY close to the boys, and he even snarled at Jake. Yiiikes. Glad we avoided him.

See that little guy in the upper-left corner? He wasn’t very nice (and also not so little in real life).

In the end, we didn’t make it to the actual peak because of snow blocking the trail. It simply wasn’t safe. Especially for me in my gym shoes (I didn’t have hiking shoes... whoops). Additionally, there were clouds rolling in FAST and we wanted to get down without being caught in the rain. We had to account for all the time it took us to get up.

I am glad I did the hike because I felt like a freaking CHAMP after I finished, but I will admit that I probably wouldn’t do that again. It was that intense.

Thisi is one of the few points of the trail where we could walk on a totally flat surface... almost to the peak!

However, I have a new appreciation for backpackers and serious hikers. All of the planning that goes into the hike itself is kind of remarkable: the sometimes obscure trail markers, the danger of the steep cliffs and the snow, the potential for inclement weather to spoil your hike and make you turn back, the food you need to pack, the crazy amount of water you have to carry (heavy!!), the thin mountain air that makes it hard to breathe, etc.