Saturday, August 31, 2019

An American Gets Thrown Into Deep Linguistic Waters

    Alright, squadron. Welcome to the (probable) host of rants from an American who has had the linguistic rug pulled violently from underneath her. 
    
     So let's start with an introduction. I go by Roz, and I'm an Amazonian-type woman who hails from the great city of Chicago. Annapolis and I have become more than acquainted in the last few years, but we're taking an extended break from one another. And if you think this is just going to be another one of those "oh my god, Study Abroad changed my life" blogs, here's a wild surprise: you're probably right. So if that's not your thing, or if you're not particularly fond of me, I'm going to kindly direct you towards the "close tab" button. That way you don't take your anger out on the comments section and I don't get sad while I read said comments. Thanks. 😘

    The last few days (and frankly the last few weeks) have been supersaturated with events that have changed my trajectory for this semester, this year and probably the remainder of my professional career. So let me take you back to this past Wednesday, August 21st. It was your fairly standard day, I woke up in my hotel room in Riga (the capital of Latvia, for those of you who don't know) after an exhausting day of traveling and a delicious meal at Rits, a local restaurant, and had two pink eyes. Oh yeah, you read that correctly. One wasn't enough, my body decided that the freakishness had to double. Alas, I was made fun of, quarantined myself and used more Refresh Drops than I had after PRK. Hopefully this isn't an omen for the next few months. 

   In the evening we continued to explore Riga, watched some beach volleyball in one of the Old Town squares- what is an ex-volleyball player who doesn't watch volleyball when out of the country? a fraud- and checked out a bar called "The Armory". The general consensus we've come to is that Riga Black Balsam is something of a hidden treasure, especially its Black Currant flavor. I'd highly recommend giving it a shot if you get the chance to come here. 


Walking views of Riga's Old Town

Beach Volleyball in the heart of Old Town

   On Friday, we made our trek to Daugavpils and nearly had a collective heart attack when the bus momentarily broke down and we were more than an hour away. Thankfully, we didn't need to push the bus the remainder of the way (a nightmarish scenario I thought very likely), and we were dropped off at our host's one-by-one. The first of us to go, Eliza, was rather confused when our guide turned around in the bus and ominously said "ты первый. три минуты." (You're first, three minutes). This was, of course, all said in a benevolent manner, but still left the rest of us looking around anxiously. And as my luck would have me, I was dropped off last. So I watched as my friends joined their hosts and was left to wonder which part of the city I'd be calling my own.

My host mother, Lada, has been more than welcoming to me. During our first conversation, though, I realized just how out of touch I was with Russian. You know the feeling where you look at the first page of an exam and immediately skip to the next page only to find out both questions are equally, terrifyingly difficult? Yeah, well these questions were literally staring me in the eyes, and into my puny American soul. Google Translate might just be my most used app for the next few weeks. There is comfort in knowing that I'll get a whole lot better over the next few months, and trust me, I'll be putting in every possible effort not to look like an incompetent idiot. It's just extra motivation to study and soak in everything I can. Unlike Wilton, I'm not sure I'll get to be here a second time around.

   Monday marks the start of classes, but I've already been learning lessons. Primarily, I need to stop smiling at strangers. I thought that coming off of Plebe Summer might help me keep a stern face, but that seems not to be the case. And I grew up in the Midwest, so awkwardly smiling at random people on the street is practically part of my nature. But it is very much so not in the spirit of the streets here. So I need to refrain myself from bopping my shoulders to songs in restaurants (too much enthusiasm might brand me as American, and it's really freaking hard) or being too friendly with people I've never interacted with. Ah, the plights of an American abroad!
    
   More to follow... especially with the start of *gasps dramatically* school. 
    

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