Friday, May 31, 2013
Monday, May 30, 2011
Memories
I wrote this post for http://studyabroadlithuania.blogspot.com/. Hope you enjoy it too!
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Lithuania may remain an undiscovered land for many people in the United States, but it forever has a place in my heart.
Further, many silly interactions came to mind. For example, I remember when I had a “cultural exchange” with two of my roommates from Ukraine. They insisted I try salo (basically uncooked fat that is salted or smoked). To an American, this was a really gross suggestion. They were persuasive, though, and I was willing. In return, I insisted they experience American culture by having a PB&J. We made a pact to respect each other's culture and proceeded. The results were that salo isn't so bad and they enjoyed the PB&J! They weren’t thrilled about the PB at first but they came around. [On a side note, Lithuanians also enjoy salo. They call it lašiniai].
Now that more time has past, I also spend time remembering Lithuania as a whole (and my trips to Russia, Estonia and Latvia with the program). I think of the Sea, the cobbled streets, the really quirky statues etc throughout Klaipeda, the bus drivers, the Soviet and pre-Soviet architecture, my LCC community and classes, Lithuania's fascinating history, the snow and mist, and daily life there. There was so much to discover. Those who know me will attest that I'm a wanderer. Even so, I never ran out of interesting places and things to see.
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Lithuania may remain an undiscovered land for many people in the United States, but it forever has a place in my heart.
Four months in Klaipeda – that city on the Sea – were incredible. What a fast semester! But, at the same time, it was a full semester with enough time to really immerse in the place and people. Looking back, from my home in central PA, I have nothing but the greatest joy that I went to a place that most Americans would at best deem really random.
It’s hard to choose one thing to write about in this blogpost because I am overflowing with memories of the richest kind. At first, when I came home, I spent a lot of time remembering the people I met and the things we did together. I missed (and still do) them very much. I thought of the sauna trips, the bicycle rides, the endless cups of tea and fount of conversation, the hugs, the ways they challenged me, the interesting and valued perspective I brought to them as well and the teary goodbyes.
| "This is what 'strong Ukrainian men have been taking with them to the fields for centuries?!'" |
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| "What do you mean 'schoolchildren across US eat this every day?!'" |
| I saw these "Happy Buttons" at the end of my trip. |
Lastly, I have thought and prayed about all that I learned there. This isn't the place for me to recount all the things that I learned, though. In fact, it's probably best if you go and learn for yourself.
The last thing I will say, is that Lithuania wasn’t always an easy place to be. Perhaps that is why the place which LT has in my heart is so secure -- most things of real value I have always found to be challenging in some respect. Spending time in a foreign country certainly has its challenges. For instance, it's humbling to have to play by someone else's rules.
Want to ask this particular blogger any questions? email studyabroad@lcc.lt and they'll hook you up with my info and I'll hook you up with the inside scoop.
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Actually you can just leave a comment here and I'll respond!
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Actually you can just leave a comment here and I'll respond!
Monday, May 16, 2011
Transitions
The windows looking out of my little "seafoam-green" room are open and I can see and hear the fresh world outside that is my home in central PA. The birds are whistling nonsense and sometime soon I'll hear those grasshoppers proclaiming the delights of summer nights - loudly.
Clearly, it's the people I miss the most. But it's not simply a transition of people. It's a transition of culture. Of language. Of food. Of location. Of ways of life. Of the little things. It still shocks me that I can eavesdrop on strangers again. That I can put the toilet paper in the toilet. That I can speak with clerks. That people talk so loudly. That strangers smile and greet me. That I can't find light-switches. That I actually like green tea. That I'm thousands of miles away from a beloved place and people that continue to exist each new day without me.
I am in a very different place.
On May 2nd, I traveled home from Lietuva and by random chance went the whole way with Tyler. We stepped out of Karklų bendrabutis at 3:30am into a cool morning which smelt of change. After my last look back at my dear friends (an image which will stay with me for a long time I believe), I turned to follow my swift-footed partner. "Are you ready?" he asked. I breathed deeply and kept walking. Those were the words of our trip back. Again and again we returned to them. I didn't have an answer until standing in the US customs line where I told him, "Tyler, I think I'm as ready as I'll ever be." Maybe it was just the effect of the propagandistic-like movies which welcomed us home on me or maybe I really was as ready as I'd ever be.
Nevertheless, the transition have been difficult. Several times I've been tempted to call Tyler and tell him that I was wrong. But I never did. Instead, in those moments when I've felt the change the most, I've either A) turned to the same God who was with me from my first moment in Lietuva till my last and right up until now. Or instead I've B) lost myself in nostalgic remembrances of Klaipėda and those whom I dreaded to leave. Here are some of the images that come repeatedly to my mind:
| Ieva and I -- on an incredible (rainy) cycling tour in Eastern Lietuva. |
| Lida, Alla and Tanya on Tanya's birthday |
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| Aurelija, Iveta and I on a huge frozen lake in Finland |
| With Ieva and the Baltic Sea. Both dear to me. |
Perhaps I should make more of an effort to follow option A.
So yes, the transition has been difficult. It is worth it though. I love my home, my friends and most importantly my family. I have loved these places and people for a long long time and don't want to be alienated from them. I don't want to be the weird study-abroad kid that Rachel Mac so aptly caricatures in her sitcom. But I also don't want to be the same as I was before I left or as everyone else is just for the sake of having a place or fulfilling what is expected of me.
May God help me to make the transition, therefore, and also to retain the memories and the newness of life which was added to my own in a beautiful, misty and seemingly far way land.
So yes, the transition has been difficult. It is worth it though. I love my home, my friends and most importantly my family. I have loved these places and people for a long long time and don't want to be alienated from them. I don't want to be the weird study-abroad kid that Rachel Mac so aptly caricatures in her sitcom. But I also don't want to be the same as I was before I left or as everyone else is just for the sake of having a place or fulfilling what is expected of me.
May God help me to make the transition, therefore, and also to retain the memories and the newness of life which was added to my own in a beautiful, misty and seemingly far way land.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Tramping
Liberated. That's how I've been feeling recently. It's been many many weeks since my life left behind the boxes (and clothes... details later) which used to define it. Now it tramps down previously unseen or unreached roads which are open to the sky, sea and wind. Read on to revisit some of those roads with me.
Nevsky Prospect
I wanted to go to Russia for a long time. My dear family and oldest friends will attest to this, I am sure. It was an incredible (if a bit surreal) blessing to actually make it there. The experience was not just a new adventure, however. It was the summation and furtherment of all that I have ever thought or felt about Russia. I carried with me the years my soul curiously prodded around a place it had never been for those glorious 7 days. Now, I can't really say much more than that without a cup of tea and chunk of time (feel free to treat me!), but I can tell more of what I and my traveling companions actually did! I refuse to write a trip summary, though, so here's two scenes from a larger narrative I can give in person.
The Moscow Metro blew my mind. The thing is HUGE and its stations are palaces - each unique, many with grand tributes to the Soviet person and state, and all art in and of themselves. Unfortunately, pics are not allowed in the Metro since it's a major terrorist target- 8+ million people ride it everyday. Those babushkas at the bottom of the 5 minute escalator ride look like they're asleep... but they've got eyes like hawks (or so the wise Natalija said). Here's some pics I didn't take but I can attest to their accuracy! (All credits to whomever took them.)
In the past four months I've been to sauna 4 times. I think I'm getting addicted! The St. Petersburg "banya" was quite an experience. It's a nude sauna with separate sections for men and women. There are several rooms in the place, and it's an incredibly communal, cleansing event. I knew all along that I would shed every article of clothing I had, but all the same, it was a thrill to lose my attire and be entirely comfortable in my skin. Unfortunately, we didn't procure any of the birch branches with which the legit Russians were beating themselves and their friends, but, all the same, it was fabulous, and I recommend it for even the shyest person. No pictures here either - due to steam.
Believe it or not, I did take my own pictures in Russia. Here's a few selections:
| I had a delightful encounter with a pickpocket here. |
| Christ the Savior in Moscow - Simply the most beautiful church I've ever seen. |
| With my good friend Ieva in front of the Hermitage (formerly the Winter Palace) |
Itsenäisyydenkatu
The weekend after Russia, my friends Aurelija, Iveta and I headed to Finland thanks to cheap Ryanair flights. The city of Tampere is a beautiful one, resting between two large lakes. After being in Lithuania and Russia, I could feel a definite change in the spirit of the place. The Finns were a friendly and happy sort as well as seeming more relaxed than Lithuanians and Russians. Far more outdoorsy too. Tons of people in ski-jackets, cycling, cross country skiing, and Nordic walking. Even the punk rockers we met were happy - I've never seen a punk rock show with such a happy audience!
| This is how I looked everytime I needed to take a photo :) |
| My traveling companions! Aurelija and Iveta |
The three of us couchsurfed with a fellow named Antti during our trip. He was a laid-back, quieter fellow with an often unexpressed sense of humor. He showed us around and was a stellar host.
| Antti, unphased by the snow fall, showing us his city |
Herkaus Manto Gatvė
Lietuva, how I love you. Russia and Finland were but flings in comparison with you. Seriously, I'm not sure what to say about this place but that its been very good to me, and I'm dreading saying goodbye. Klaipėda, LCC, my roommates and friends, the sea, the plants in every window, the language, the bandelės, the naked boy statues... And now that it's warming up, I'm seeing another side of the place, and my heart is getting all the more entwined with it. Can't say there are not places and people in the States for which I long, but for now, there are other streets I'd like to tramp down.
| Hike along the Baltic |
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| Making masks for Užgavėnės with dear friends |
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Untimely
Time is an odd thing. Sometimes it pulls me along at such a pace that I can hardly keep up and other times it drags me through the day slower than a stupefied snail could cross Asia. Recently, however, I’ve discovered that time can do a third thing - leave me alone. Time doesn’t tug at me when I am not aware of it.
At home, I am time's slave because I see and hear about it everywhere. All hallways, classrooms, stores, offices, cell phones, computers, and cars have time telling devices which dutifully tick away my minutes. Towns also have bells which keep "watch" over me when I leave the above behind. “DING DONG, DON’T FORGET THE TIME.”
Thankfully, Lithuanians aren't as obsessed with time’s claim on life. Clocks aren’t visible in every hallway or store. They’re not always present in the lower right hand corner of computer screens and bells don't go off every hour. Frequently, the sun even refuses to show her face for fear that I will guess how much daylight is left. The biggest contributor to my "untimely" existence is the absence of my cell-phone. Goodness, I love that I’m free of the thing since Verizon doesn't give me service here.
Let me confess that I am aware of the time when I need to be somewhere - thanks to my little blue alarm clock... Somehow, this tiny machine is more of a companion than a master though. He probably keeps out of the way because he is shocked that I'd carry him with me after he did the horrible deed of waking me up.
| Here's also a view of our floor kitchen |
Do my musings have a point? Not precisely, but I share them for three reasons. First, so that you might have a reason to procrastinate. Second, so that you can get the flavor of my experience. Third, because I've been struck by the honored place that we afford time in our lives and would like to discover what you think. Judging by time's omnipresence, it seems to me that God must have commanded us to “tie [clocks] as symbols on our hands” and put bells “on the door-frames of our houses and our gates.” Of course, this is not so, but God did command the Israelites to “love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength” and to tie this commandment to their hands, doorframes and gates. We are not Ancient Israelites, but this passage makes me wonder if what we have done is right.
Have time to respond? Do it.
Now for some unrelated pictures...
| Dancing at the Smelt festival. Later I joined the folk dances. |
| Baltic Sea during the festival |
| Lithuanian Independence Day |
| I found my Lithuanian twin at an Independence Day concert. Top, 2nd from left |
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Un-Expectations
Allow me to share three unexpected things about Lithuania. First, it has a disproportionate number of shoe shops. People say that in the US there is a Starbucks on every corner. Here, the Vente Vanilla Latte lost the battle to chic shoes. While I find the number of stores to be unusual, I must say that good shoes are a fabulous investment for the normal Lithuanian who walks quickly around her city in the snow, slush, and ice - likely a better investment than a caffeine addiction.
Second, naked boy statues abound - ok fine, in Klaipeda I've only seen three but I've heard of others elsewhere (e.g. Siauliai) and there is a lot of time to discover more. The few I've met in Klaipedia are small and joyful boys with the same offbeat humor that many other statues here have. For instance, I've also encountered a life sized lucky mouse in Senamiestis (Old Town) and a lantern-bearing ghost climbing out of the water near the harbor.
Second, naked boy statues abound - ok fine, in Klaipeda I've only seen three but I've heard of others elsewhere (e.g. Siauliai) and there is a lot of time to discover more. The few I've met in Klaipedia are small and joyful boys with the same offbeat humor that many other statues here have. For instance, I've also encountered a life sized lucky mouse in Senamiestis (Old Town) and a lantern-bearing ghost climbing out of the water near the harbor.
Finally, I can sing to most of the music in clubs, supermarkets, and restaurants because these places often play songs Americans hear on MTV or classic rock stations. I'm not sure whether I should be comforted or disturbed to have Katy Perry as a traveling companion. In any case, it was ridiculously fun to join a building packed with Lithuanians in singing music from Springsteen to Nirvana to Jet this weekend. I even danced with one random, friendly Lithuanian fellow. Thank goodness he didn't try to speak with me - or maybe I just didn't hear him over the noise!
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| Kurpiai Jazz Club - which didn't play jazz.. |
Monday, January 24, 2011
Clouds and crowds
Living in the cloud which is Klaipeda has its unique benefits.
I never again have to wonder what it's like to explore those misty lands outside the airplane window. This lowers the likelihood that, one day, my curiosity will overwhelm me and I will make use of one of those emergency exits which flight attendants are always informing me about (the nearest of which may be behind me). Instead, I will be able to safely reminisce about my days here as I gaze through the glass. I will also smile knowingly at the kid nearby wondering about those clouds for the first time.
| A bridge along my walk to LCC |
| Karklu, my home! |
In all seriousness, I like the foggy nature of this place. It suggests that there is more to the city than meets the eye of the new observer; there is something further which only time will reveal to those who are patient. This goes for more than the urban landscape - it also goes for its inhabitants. The people I pass in the street or with whom I share the bus do not smile or really even look at me. Needless to say, that dog-walking guy, who I don't know but waved to every day for four years on Sinking Creek Road, would not fit in here. Even so, my experience so far tells me that there is much more than meets the eye to these people. There is substance behind every blank look - perhaps joyful, perhaps sorrowful, but most likely complex with a value all its own. Now that is worth patience to encounter. It will also likely require tea and I'm more than ok with that!
I hope that the people here will take that time to discover the me beyond the first glance as well.
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