I
know, I know, I know. I’m terrible and haven’t written in forever. You can
complain all you want or you can like, oh, I don’t know, read the bullet
points. This post covers some of our more recent escapades, I’ll put one up in
the next few days about October and November shenanigans. BLUF (ugh, I’m
cringing sorry): all is well, a few funny things have happened, and we’re
pretty much all ready to come back home.
· November
actually had sunlight! I know a heck of a lot of you won’t care, but it’s a big
freaking deal. In case you’d forgotten, last year’s November had 37 minutes(!)
o sunshine. We’d been expecting an endless downpour and the world’s most
diverse set of depressing greys, but on occasion we saw colors that are
actually on the color wheel. Mind: blown.
· The
Navy crew has visited a local high school to help give the students practice
talking to native English speakers in their English classes. This exchange has
basically dissolved into us talking to the same four people who aren’t afraid
of us or quizzing the students on random American facts. This is all fun and
dandy until you open the floor to questions and have to tackle explaining
police brutality to a bunch of Latvian teenagers. There’s been a pretty big
tendency to ask questions that we consider fairly controversial, and half the
time we wonder whether if it’s the students trying to corner us into equally
controversial answers. But what’s really interesting is seeing what foreign
young adults/ teenagers know about America and what they want to know from
Americans. There’s also this custom that I can’t quite grasp- only male
students approach to say good-bye and thanks, and only reach for a male
midshipmen’s hands to shake. This led to a very awkward exchange in which I
also reached out my hand to one of the students and he seemed rather taken
aback and unsure of what to do- I feel like it’s fairly customary to shake both
sex’s hands in the United States but clearly the custom doesn’t carry over. And
as much as I can dismiss it as a cultural difference, I would be lying if I
said that the interaction didn’t irk me.
· One
of the unexpectedly cool experiences we’ve had here was judging a children’s
Christmas-themed poetry recitation competition. The school we help at has an
annual Jingle Bell festival that will give you a cuteness overdose. For
context, the winner of the competition was a seven-year-old boy named Deniss
who recited a poem about his love of dancing (this year’s theme-hobbies), and
his “Cha-Cha” was accompanied by some smooth jams and an equally small partner
who performed the cha-cha flawlessly. Y’all, I am not exaggerating. This kid
was freaking wild. I had a few tears in my eyes just because he was like a tiny
Misha. Fearless.
· This
competition began with a video of Santa’s hobbies- with some different kids
from Daugavpils dressed as Santa doing their favorite things. At one point “Santa”
was dancing and doing magic tricks, and this grand escapade was all set to Katy
Perry’s “Swish Swish”, which was a, um, interesting directing choice. Made for
some stellar entertainment, though.
· At
one point a group of 6th grade girls came out in the intermission
and performed a rendition of Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You”
(arguably the most iconic Christmas song of all time). At first I was skeptical
of how good this performance could possibly be, but I also figured that this
would be one of those moments where someone shocks you with an absurd amount of
talent. That is not what happened. This performance was iconic in the sense
that I wasn’t able to look away from uncoordinated choreography, butchered
vocals and vaguely matching Christmas sweaters. I should say that I greatly
admired the courage these girls had to go all in and sing a hit that isn’t in their
native tongue. There are moments in which I wish I could have the same attitude
as sixth-grade me. Granted, sixth-grade me had just been introduced to wearing
sports goggles while playing volleyball so I was in an interesting point in my
life in general, but (regardless), I think there are a lot of moments of
courage we don’t understand when we’re young. I’m sure half of you would be
paralyzed at the thought of standing up in front of a group of strangers with
your friends and swaying to the hymn of Christmas’s biggest diva. So although
the performance was far from professional, it was still freaking remarkable.
· For
those of you who were curious on the Misha “Captain Obvious” situation (which I
detailed in one of my previous posts), Misha is currently a Youngster. Also,
whenever Misha acts out of character or is generally more aggressive, we call
him Mike. Because Misha is the kind of guy who will weave you a flower crown
and make sure you know you look stunning, but Mike will roast you out of
nowhere.
· I
turned 22 a few weeks ago, and my host mom got me the greatest gift I could’ve
possibly imagined. I came home to a chocolate bar and a jar of peanut butter (I
mean it was creamy and I’m Team Crunchy, but it was dank nonetheless) and I was
incredibly grateful because my current jar of peanut butter at that moment was
only half-full. She said that every American student she’s ever hosted loves
peanut butter, and she has no idea that I’ve been buying it for myself this
entire semester. I thought I would have to cut off my dependence on it in
Eastern Europe, but some things just won’t change.
· Around
Halloween we traveled up to Estonia. For the geographically-challenged people
out there, Latvia is sandwiched between Estonia to the North and Lithuania to
the South. Daugavpils, where we study, is nearly halfway between Riga (Latvia’s
capital and the largest city in the Baltic States) and Vilnius (the capital of Lithuania).
It’s hard to articulate how different Latvia and Estonia are- even though it
was only a four hour bus ride to Tallinn, the city feels Scandinavian rather
than like its southern neighbors. I damn near cried when I saw oat milk again.
Wow, if that’s not the most classic privileged American sentence I’ve ever
written, I don’t know what is. Estonia is known as a center of technological
progress and it shows- it felt like stepping into the future and returning to
Latvia felt like a blast to the past. Also, I lost my phone in a mix-up that
ended up in a nasty conversation with my Uber driver in which he thought I
basically implied that all Estonians are liars and thieves. Erki, if you’ve
somehow found your way onto this page I am so so sorry and I swear that is not
what I meant. I love your country and your people were very welcoming to us. So
that was an unexpected and massive cost that I had to account for. Whoops.
· My
speaking partner from the local university shared the two critical criteria
that the Latvians use to identify Americans in Daugavpils. Apparently we have
large backpacks (can’t deny that- I stuff my gym clothes in there every day
along with half of my worldly possessions). But more interestingly, we also
carry massive water bottles. Although carrying a large water bottle is
commonplace at the Academy, the concept doesn’t really transition here. I can
probably count the number of times I’ve seen a local drink water on one hand.
It’s a little distressing. And I feel like a freak for trying to feel at least relatively
hydrated.
· Our
trip to Estonia was also the birthplace of one of the most important and iconic
parts of this trip- the emergence of Team Wholesome™. The group here has
generally divided itself in two- the party-goers and the stay-at-homers who
like to bake cookies, put on foaming face masks and cook absurd amounts of
food. With regards to foaming face masks, I highly recommend but also give the
warning that they will grow on your face and potentially make you laugh uncontrollably
to the point that your friends are concerned for your sanity. Most definitely
not speaking from personal experiences (*nervous laughter intensifies*). Also I
have a tendency to cackle which has only made its appearance a few times during
this trip, thankfully.
· I’m
coming to the realization that I’m a bit of a homebody and Team Wholesome (who
is responsible for absurd amounts of baked goods) is where I belong without a
doubt. The West Point cadets and Mindy and I are some of its core members, and
I have to say- we house good vibes only. If you’d like to apply we’re looking
for spirited members who will tolerate the amount of cheese products Andrew (one
of the cadets) buys. Send inquiries directly to me.
· There’s
something really sad about knowing that a lot of the inside jokes we have here
will die in about four weeks. Most of them revolve around not quite
understanding Russian (even if we kind of do), and of course the jokes won’t be
funny when we get back because no one is expected to know the language. Also
people don’t understand babushka culture so that’s gonna be fun to explain.
· As
our time in Eastern Europe slowly comes to a close, it’s hard to believe that the
next few times I see things will be the last time I see them for a long time
(or forever). We’re all so ready to go home that it would be easy to dismiss
the next two weeks and think about the first things I want to do when I get
back, but I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t be overcome by pessimism in the homestretch.
I don’t know if I’ll be back in this part of the world in the next decade- or
in the next fifty years. There’s an odd sense of not really knowing what I’m
not going to see again-and what I haven’t seen at all. Even while walking today
in Riga, there are countless streets and parks I’ve only ever seen once or
twice. I’m excited to be home and grateful for every moment I’ve had here (even
if I’m packed on a tram in a way that even sardines would quiver), but there’s
no denying this chapter is coming to a close soon.
Love,
Roz
P.S. There's plenty more to cover- I swear I'm going to be updating in the next day or two. Or maybe three. Probably three.
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