Smoking Kills or maybe just Mortifies

We all have embarrassing moments, I think I may have more than most. I make a lot of mistakes. But sometimes those moments are inevitable.

Let me tell you a very memorable story (for me at least) relating to language barriers and a prime example of “Why literal translation isn’t always the best translation. ”

Let me set the scene, I had just arrived in Serbia. I was having a coffee on the street as in the norm. I pleasure I relish here. I am sitting with my sister-in-law and her friends. ☕

My Serbian consists of the most vulgar words and phrases I learned from my husband and his friends.

Enter the kindest Serbian soul. 👼He joins the group and we are introduced. His English is limited, but he makes a great effort.

The kind soul politely offers me a cigarette. He literally translates the question from Serbian to English. “Do you suck?”❓ 😱

My mind reels!!! What does he mean? Why would he ask me that? What do I look like? Then it hits me. He is asking me, “Do you smoke?” 🚭

This is really funny now, but at the time, it was really disconcerting. These are the pitfalls of a literal translation. Be careful my friends.

Do you have a story to share? What mistakes have you or others made that make you laugh in hindsight? I look forward to hearing from you!

The Ginger Bread House

For Christmas Eve I opened a sweet sacred box containing the walls, foundation, roofing, and decorations. I dug out my piping bag and mixed up the icing/glue that would hold it all together. The plan was to decorate and create some Christmas spiced memories.

The munchkin and I worked to build the house, holding each piece in place till the glue held tight. We worked to decorate each side and enjoyed a Christmas movie in the background.

Does anyone else feel like Hansel and Grettle eating the witch’s house when they break off a piece to eat?

Looking back I realized I could have done a much better job. I should have decorated some parts before constructing the sweet little home. I could have used less icing to make it. I learned that a bit of strategy and more rest would have made it more beautiful.

But most of all I learned that moving forward prepared me for a better plan next time. That the experience and memories made were enough. We had a great time. I hope we can do it again.

Beyond those great Christmas family memories, upon reflection, the gingerbread house taught me that with enough rest and strategic planning, and actually putting in the work, we can achieve a lot more than we think we can.

Lately, I have been working too much. Working too much makes us surprisingly less productive. If I stopped, planned, and thought about what I wanted more and found a way to those goals, I could do so much more.

So, here is to resting, planning, assessing, and, creating to achieve the goals I want to achieve.

I encourage you to rest, assess, and find out what you want to achieve, then make plans. Goals are just dreams without a plan.

Happy New Year to all.

Learning Serbian or Chicken Breast is not Pileci Sisa

A few years ago, I was trying to order a grilled chicken breast and chicken thigh from a roadside grill. I had learned that batak is the word for thigh, but I was at a loss for the proper word for breast. I know that boob is sisa. But something told me that wasn’t the right word for that part of a chicken. I mean, we don’t say, “I would like a chicken boob sandwich.”

I usually want to make people laugh, but I guess I think the lady working the grill looked like a tough audience to try out my comedic Serbian. I saw an English speaking friend through the windows of a eat-in restaurant next door and went to ask for the proper translation.

The proper term in Serbian is grudi. I haven’t forgotten. Since that day, I know that batak is thigh, and that chicken breast is not sisa. It is grudi.


What did I learn? I learned that something funny helps me remember. I learned that a bit of pressure helps me to learn. I learned that with a bit of effort, I will improve.

Even as I am writing this I am learning. I was going to type cica. I put that into the google translate, it came up uncle. Sisa is boob.

Learning through comedy and fun is the best way to learn. I have also learned through trauma, but sometimes I just block that out. It is really not a good way to learn.

Here is a great youtube video/TED talk I watched given by a language expert. This explained to me my own difficulty in learning during my first trip to Serbia. I was stressed, overwhelmed, and feeling broken at the transition and events in my life at the time. This video spelled out in story form that being relaxed, happy, and passionate about what you are learning is the key to learning and learning faster.

Find what works for your. Find out how you learn best and run with it! I learn by doing and writing most. Learning is a journey. Make goals, have a plan and move forward. Do it!

My personal experiences in learning the Serbian language vary.

One of the things I have done was to put a poster of words to learn on the bathroom door. It was effective. I sat and had a little free time to learn. This was especially true if I had eaten something that had a little to many beans and my stomach was learning how to process them. This was before cell phones with internet.

In addition to my own ingenuitive education, that chart on the bathroom door also gave my company a laugh when they visited my loo. From time to time, I would hear a bit of laughter coming from behind the door as they viewed my study sheet!

During my last extended visit in Serbia, I joined the choir. I spent a few hours learning the language by immersion. It was effective and fun. It was not methodical. It was random. I do think that sort of learning has great value. But this is best as supplemental.

For a comprehensive education in Serbian I would recommend learning from a professional.

I am sure you remember teachers you either liked or loathed in school. I would wager learning was easier and more fun with the teachers you liked. Find someone who cares and also suits you.

Carve out a time and dedicate yourself to learning if you are serious about it. I have not done that yet, but I am about to engage in an online study.

About twelve years ago, a friend recommended taking classes from a professional Serbian teacher called Magdalena. I was not ready to hunker down to learn the language yet. Now, I am and I have checked out some of her YouTube videos. They are great! Here is a link for an older video she has made that is very helpful. You can see her personality, desire to help you learn, and give you more than dry book learning education.

Liking your tutor has a huge effect on your learning experience. I find that Magdalena is caring and real. She is not full of herself like many professors here. Her approach to education is refreshing. She has learned many languages and has found some of the best ways to teach through learning herself. This is a great asset.

SERBONIKA

Twelve years later, Magdalena has lots more experience and she has an online course. Here is the link for her course. Serbonika is a solid course for learning. For the record, I am not paid to give you this link. I just have great faith in her work, I know she is passionate about it and has been developing her skills and course for a very long time.

I plan to study Serbian with Serbonika. I will report back here with my experience and views on the course. Wish me luck, diligence, and determination! I need it!

Please leave a comments, advice, or tips, tell me about your language journey. If you have questions, feel free to ask, I will try to help if I can! Thank you for stopping by.

Cao Mila xo

The Poopy Potok

There are a few vocabulary words that may come in handy when reading this post. First, potok means creek. Selo is the word for village.

FYI all puns are intended. Here we go.

My first hint of the crappy truth came one day as I was foraging for walnuts down a hill by the local creek. Bits of trash was strewn about the creek bed, an old horses skull looked up at me from a ways off, and then… A few yards away, I saw an outhouse precariously perched over the tinkling creek. I was a bit shocked.

Immediately, a school field trip to Cowan’s Gap Pennsylvania State park came to mind. I remembered the park rangers telling us if we are out in nature, never defecate near water. He gave valid scientific reason about spreading diseases. E-coli is one of the bacteria found in fecal mater and probably making a dangerous cocktail creek. That memo never made to these here parts.

At that time, I was living in a nearby town. We have done some moving around and now are in a little selo a.k.a. a village. Since seeing that lone wooden water closet, I have come to see that practice was common here. There is one other stilted out house that has pilings leading up to the tall narrow waste station pimped out with abandoned car rim decor. Fancy digs for the village.

Imagine making your way down the hill to the mosquito infested creek to relieve yourself only to become a victim of the buzzing little vampires. You would most certainly be itching your booty bites for some time to come.

Now, most people have indoor plumbing. Still, the pipes that leave the home that carry the sewage, often carry the waste, straight down to the stream. Hmm. This took me some time to grasp.

Village trash is also often dumped into the streams and over hills in hidden or not so hidden locals. This really vexed me. The land is gorgeous, and the people don’t take pride in what great beauty they are free to behold.

As I pondered this, I remembered that back in the 70’s trash was dumped willy nilly in the Pennsylvania countryside. And, when I lived in NY, I recall having a conversation at the bank of the great Husdon river about how laws had been made to clean it up. The Hudson was once the same as every waterway in Serbia. People threw their trash and companies emptied waste directly into the river. No fish survived the pollution.

Years later, the Hudson has a thriving ecosystem of birds, fish, and other forms of life. The river is beautiful. The banks are a lovely place for a picnic or stroll. But it took a great deal of effort and education. And that took time. That is what Serbia needs as well.

Slight rabbit trail… Just this week, for the first time in 4 years, my hubby has cleaned up the potok. Literally, 4 days ago. It was an eyesore, and now it is only slightly less than pristine. I mean, there is still poo but no trash. 🙂 It’s the little things. Again, pun intended. 😉
This post has been a work in progress and just as I was polishing it up, without a word to the muz he cleaned it up. Hallelujah! Angels are singing over here! You cannot imagine my joy. Really, you can’t.

Back to the regularly scheduled blog….

My thoughts of these and other questionable habits have been pondered for years. I used to be critical and judgy. Over time, I have come out the other side of these thoughts. I realized, that the privileges of living in a land of infrastructure and laws that preserved nature’s purity was never granted in this region in small villages. There is no trash removal as in the city. Villages are occupied mostly by the ederly. They have less. Most don’t have cars in my region.

Life here is more precarious than the old wooden outhouses perched above bubbling brooks.

This country has survived many wars and renaming of the land time and again. The people are resilient, they offer gracious hospitality, and the land is a sight to behold. Serbia is a fantastic place. Infrastructure will eventually be put in place. For now, I love the land for what it is. Every land is a work in progress as are we.

Grace and understanding of the social system, economy, and the cultural traditions and their history is key to living here. I am learning. Hopefully, I am becoming a better human.

Find the beauty where you are and love one another.

Covid Test Serbia

On Monday, our little had a really sore throat in the morning before school. The protocol is that she gets a COVID test before returning to school. This morning, I took her on my own with my poor Serbian skills to the doctor. We live in a small town, and I really feel bad for the people who have to deal with me. I am sure having to try to explain things to foreigner is the las thing overworked medical staff want to do.

Upon our arrival, there was just a short wait to see Dr. Nice Lady in pediatrics (the covid section).  She was smiling, kind and so helpful. She even spoke a little English. She has no idea how grateful I was. Our little didn’t have a temperature but her throat is red. Dr. Nice Lady asked the usual question and asked if we had been in contact with anyone with COVID. We haven’t to our knowledge. The Doc listened to the heart and lungs, and looked at her throat. She called in a nurse for blood testing and then sent us to wait for a COVID nasal swab. 

It is a short walk to the other side of the hospital. We waited outside the building with about 3 men. She came out within 5 minutes and swabbed the nose. It was not pleasant, but not horrible like I had imagined. I thought there would be tears and lots of squirming. Our little is a trooper! 

In less than 10 min, the lady returned with negative results. Then we headed back to the original office for the final paperwork.  The doctor was on break. Our wait was about 20 min. I am not complaining. I know, back home we have waited much longer and paid through the nose. The hospital staff was congenial. The service was quick and efficient. I was relieved.  

We went to pharmacy/apoteka next door for the prescription. There was a little misunderstanding and language stress. But a drug rep was able to help translate. The stress is short-lived. I learn from each experience. Looking for the positives makes for a sunny outlook.

I was really nervous about going on my own. But I have accomplished one more intimidating task. I am stronger and more confident now. Hooray!

Our little one is off school for a week. Homework will be done. But I will turn off my morning alarm. Maybe I will get a little more sleep.

My friends, stay healthy, and love one another.

I am over the Currier and Ives meets COVID winter the part dva

FINALLY spring is arriving. The birds are chirping, blossoms are are blooming, and the chill is dissipating. THANK GOD! Yesterday was divine, I continued painting my barn front sunshine and flowers mural after I taught a few classes. Today is a blustery partly sunny partly grey day. Not as outdoor friendly. I shall stoke the fire and write. Oh and teach.

Lately, the covid restrictions have ramped up despite the well organized vaccinations around Serbia. We will be staying isolated. Living our Currier and Ives meets internet lives. Let me share a bit of what I mean.

Wood Burning Woes

All winter and for the last few years, I have been posting village pics that make people reminiscent of the days of yesteryear. Trust me, often it isn’t as cool as you think. I am longing for homes well insulated and heated not by a romantic fire that I must feed like the plant from Little Shop of Horrors. Feed me Seymore! I am over it!

All winter, I wake to feed the animals and the fires. Upstairs and downstairs I stock the wood supplies and keep the fires going to ensure our bodies stay warm.

It starts out cozy and moves on slowly to monotonous. We are beyond that now, and I am exceeding grateful the warmth and signs of spring’s divine return. Halelujah! Imagine a chorus. ‘Cause that is what’s going on in my mind.

I was just sharing these same thoughts with two other expats that live in villages. The Canadian shared that he had put some logs in the cooking part of the stove to dry out. Dry wood burns better than wet wood and he had seen a neighbor baba do the very same. It is a brilliant idea. But the wood had dried in time and then caught fire. Whoops! He quickly moved them into the wood burning part and aired out his home, thus inviting the cold back in that he was trying to kick out. LOL Ah, we all have these funny, but not funny stories.

Mother Goose doesn’t wear a bonnet here. She has brass knuckles and bears her teeth. Her bite is worse than her honk!

Every week, I make a short trek to the neighbor dairy maid turned baba. She is always wearing the baba uniform. The typical garb is a dark long sleeve shirt, a wool sweater, an ancient skirt paired with an apron, thick black tights, completed with the black rubber slip on shoes.

When I venture over during the day, I am on guard. The neighbors geese have been let out to roam, free range without fences. They are just one of the village terrorist groups. The miniature Mafia dogs up the hill are another. Then there are the little school house security dogs. Both canine crews are short in stature with Napoleon complexes. But lets get back to the geese.

These geese take freedoms with the neighbors yards that are not sufficiently fenced. Ours is one of those poorly fenced. Yesterday, I found a huge goose poop right in front of my door. I am sure that is the furry of a scorned goose. The retribution from being chided harshly with a big stick as I passed by on my way for milk. This is the terrorism I face on my routine walk for milk. The geese gang up on me and harass me as I pass by. They would and HAVE bitten me when my guard was down. It hurts. So, now, I always grab a big stick to scare them off. Sometimes it keeps them running away depending on their mood. Other times it does little to deter their savage need for blood. Seriously, you would think they were carnivores!

The winter’s early sunset makes for a very cold, walk with the phone flashlight lighting my way. Our dog Ginger insists on accompanying me and we set the neighbor dogs to barking as we pass by. The evening post-milking pickup is usually quick and I head home lugging 4 litters of fresh warm milk.

Upon my return, I boil the milk and let it cool until morning. I bottle it and freeze a few liters using only one bottle for immediate use.

The spring has elongated the days and my jaunt to retrieve the milk is now lit by the setting sun and I am grateful, even if the aggravating geese are still at large. I am also thankful that the milk is fresh and it is whole. No additives or preservatives. Straight from Dobrila the cow.

Currier and Ives is not as sweet as it looks my friends. The Golden days of old are only that way in our memories or on canvas. Trust me!

As always, try to find the good and beautiful where you are. Be kind. This will make each day golden for you and others.

Flat Stanley does Yoga

Yesterday,Stanley was having a relaxing walk around the village. He came across three girls doing yoga. These girls like so many others had been traveling around the Balkans. The Corona Quarantine caught them off guard. Now, they are sheltering in place in our tiny village. Not a bad place to be holed up!

Stanley was enamored with one of the girls, but he kept his distance because maybe even flat men or plastic women can catch Corona??

I call this one downward doll.


The girls encouraged him to join in the relaxing exercise. Yoga is good for your body and soul. Practicing outside in the sun is good for us all on many levels. Stanley sat in the sun and joined in the physical training. Then he continued his walk through the village. Village life has lots of advantages!

Till next time! Cao my friends!

Flat Stanley a.k.a. Marcello does Serbia

One of my fellow expats in rural Serbia has created a musical mixture of the East meets  West. Paul Shapera created this excellent little video and the music. He is quite a talented fellow! Enjoy a glimpse into Marcello’s visit to Serbia.

Flat Stanley paper cut-outs have made their way around the world from classrooms in the U.S. to teach kids about geography.

Here is a little blip about Stanley…. Flat Stanley is a 1964 children’s book written by Jeff Brown (January 1, 1926 – December 3, 2003).

Stanley Lambchop and his younger brother Arthur are given a big bulletin board by their father to display pictures and posters. He hangs it on the wall over Stanley’s bed. During the night the board falls from the wall, flattening Stanley in his sleep. He survives and makes the best of his altered state, and soon he is entering locked rooms by sliding under the door, and playing with his younger brother by being used as a kite. One special advantage is that Flat Stanley can now visit his friends by being mailed in an envelope. Stanley even helps catch some art museum thieves by posing as a painting on the wall. Eventually, Stanley is tired of being flat and Arthur changes him back to his proper shape with a bicycle pump. Thank you Wikipedia for all the above info!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flat_Stanley

The Urban Dictionary has another meaning for a Flat Stanley. I will let you check a bit of naughtiness out here>> http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Flat+Stanley

Blessed with GREAT neighbors

I cannot believe how lucky I am. I was just reading another blog about finding good neighbors. I realized. I have hit the jackpot. I have an English teacher neighbor that has become so important to me. She is steps from my front door. My two best friends also live very close. And, I really love the people in my building. They are Wonderful.

It took too long to find that out. But now that I know them, life is so much Better.
Serbian People are amazing!

Ziveli! (Cheers)

 

No Bread Plates

Up on the left you can see my plate. My bread perched on the side of the plate. I just can let it sit on the table. This pic is from our Jan 6 Orthodox Christmas Eve dinner. Fish is common as it is a fasting day for Orthodox Christians. No Dairy or Meat.

Crumbs litter the table, bread sits on the naked tablecloth. I was a bit stunned by this at first, and I still try to perch my bread on the edge of the plate. It seems strange to me that it doesn’t have its own place to sit.

There is always a loaf of fresh backed bread at the bigger meal. It is sliced and everyone takes some as if it is a bit of daily communion. No one cares about the crumbs that scatter about.

The tablecloth is carefully removed and shaken outside after every meal. It makes the birds very happy.  🙂