A Good Dinner

Lately I've been very impressed with my own cooking, despite the lack of ingredients available here. Last night, though, I questioned the definition of "good cooking". It was Alex's birthday and my mom gave us money to go out to a nice dinner. What she gave us would have gotten us a decent meal in America... but here it got us dinner at the nicest restaurant in Chernigov, taxis there and back and then a bottle of wine and a cake afterward. I'm not sure where Alex got the name of the restaurant we went to, but it turns out it is mostly frequented by politicians and Mafiosos... the only ones around here who can afford a 300 Grieven meal. We walked in and checked our coats and then stepped into the mostly-empty dining room. The restaurant, called a word I can't translate that basically means "paradise under the sea", was under-the-sea themed... but in a classy way. The booths were clam-shaped and the ceiling was cut out in places and painted an iridescent blue.  It wasn't the design I would have chosen, but it was pretty and the guy playing the clarinet in the corner was a nice touch. But here's the point of this post... the food was DELICIOUS. To-die-for. Mmm mmm. We started with seafood salads with soy ginger dressing, raw tuna, clams, muscles, shrimp and calamari. It was amazing. Then I had baked fish with vegetables which was creamy and flavorful and delicious. Alex had veal with cherry sauce which was delicious. We also had wine and potatoes in a garlic sauce. It was the first time I've eaten such good food since the last time I was in France with my grandparents. 

Oh, AND the menu had English subtitles! to-die-for.

Happy Birthday Alexander!!!

Today Oleksandr Vladamirich Zuyok is 28 years old. Happy birthday baby!

Girl Fights & Slippers

I think when I go home I'm going to have a Russian-style (note: I say "Russian" and not "Ukrainian" quite a bit only because that's what THEY say here. Most people in Chernigov seem to think of themselves and their traditions as, at least partly, Russian.) dinner party. This is what it will look like:

First, when everyone arrives they will take off their shoes and I will give them a pair of slippers to wear. This is very important. Shoes are never worn in houses here and it is seriously not okay to be slipper-less. At first this tradition seemed strange to me... I'd spend 15 minutes finding the perfect pair of shoes and end up wearing slippers adorned with a big plush dog... but I've gotten over it and mostly opt for comfortable shoes to navigate the impossible ice-ridden sidewalks and streets of Chernigov.

So, after everyone has their pair of slippers we'll go into the living room where I've put a table and scraped together chairs from all over the house. Some people will be towering over the table, others won't be able to see over it. I will have a water-proof table cloth over the table. When everyone arrives the cold food will already be on the table: beet salad, carrot salad, Russian salad, olives, pickles, pickled tomatoes, bread with butter and salmon or meat, cheeses, deviled eggs, mushrooms and some kind of salami or blood sausage. When everyone sits down I'll bring out the hot dishes: potatoes and perhaps some kind of meat. Then we'll drink wine and vodka and probably some kind of homemade sweet tasteless juice. Between every bite we will toast and (at least the males will) drink another shot of vodka. Then we will sit there for at least a few hours nibbling with cigarette-breaks every ten minutes. Eventually we will have tea or coffee and something sweet and everyone will leave around midnight.

Let's plan this for around... March 5th?

Actually, I enjoy dinner parties here quite a lot although I'm still pretty skeptical about their food. I assume that happens with most cultures though... throw someone into a new eating situation at age 23 (eep almost 24) and you're bound to have some issues.

And now to girl fights. We had dinner at Nastya and Oleg's last night (who I always enjoying hanging out with because Nastya speaks English and I generally really like them and their little girl) and we mentioned that we had been to dinner somewhere the night before and Nastya asked where and when Alex answered she started laughing: "She wanted to beat me up once." And then there was laughing and talk in Russian and eventually I got the story: Once upon a time many years ago Alex dated a girl and then broke up with her. When this happened the girl got pissed and instead of taking it out on Alex, took it out on any girl who was friends with him. (Like, Nastya) and went around school threatening to beat up any girl who dared to speak to him. Eventually he had to intervene because everyone was terrified of her. I'd actually heard this story before but didn't realize that this girl was the same girl who so graciously hosted us last night... the same girl whose baby I held and who gave me socks as we left. I wonder if she thought I knew. Anyway, it was pretty funny and led to a conversation about girl fights... Apparently around here girls fight all the time. (As do guys, trust me there.) It kind of shocked me and I'm a little bit afraid to go anywhere alone now..... What if someone beats me up?????

"I'm glad to see an American with intellect in her eyes."

And here's to Ukrainians being redeemed in my book! We just had a lovely dinner with some friends of Alex, although thanks to my last experience with Alex's friends at first I was a little nervous (see "The Truth About Cross-Cultural Relationships) and we had to walk over about three miles of ice (I was in heels, of course) to get there which didn't put me in a great mood. Someone has got to introduce salting and sanding to this country or I'm going to slip and fall and break something and be very pissed off. Anyway, we got there and there were two little babies and couples and it was all just very grown-up and I sort of felt like I was in the wrong place. Shouldn't I still be playing Edward-40-hands with shitfaced college kids? Anyway, we started dinner and since Alex proclaimed my Russian "ochen ploha" no one really tried to talk to me at first and I felt really awkward and nervous... but slowly everyone started to try to talk and I got my nerve up to speak Russian (which is difficult, you don't understand until you have to do it... but speaking a language that you aren't good at is so hard because it makes you feel stupid and that's just no fun). Anyway, I was finally starting to warm up to everyone when Alex had to leave "just for a minute" because there was this raffle for a car that he had to go to in case he won. I let him and the second he left two of the guys started speaking fairly good English to me. Sometimes it takes some vodka to get those language-juices flowing. Anyway, Alex ended up being gone for like two hours and I had a great time without him. I held babies (!!!! Someone remind me that I don't want one) and talked politics and was assured that only stupid Ukrainians and stupid Americans think badly of people from other countries simply because they're different. "People aren't governments" someone said. Exactly. (Someone also said what I quoted as the title of this blog post. I was kind of flattered.) They also had me try some traditional Ukrainian food like lard on black bread (okay it didn't taste bad, but eww) and we drank cognac (of course). When Alex returned everyone had left but the hosting couple. We hung out for a while longer and I played with their 7-month-old baby. When we left they invited us to come again soon and invited me to come over anytime to play with the baby. And then, as I was walking out the door, they gave me a present: cute little Russian socks. It was pretty adorable.

Now, pajalousta, remind me how babies keep you up all night...

Skinny.

Earlier today Alex was making himself a snack. "This is very typically Russian." he said as he stacked salami and cheese on black bread and then topped it all off with a huge dollop of mayonnaise. "How are you all so SKINNY?" I asked. (Seriously, I'd say like 90% of the under-30s here are like toothpicks.) "Uhh. Well the girls don't eat bread. Do you remember that girl that came over the other day with Vara? She eats once a day, and like a bird. That's all girls care about here, being skinny."

Sooo... guys eat high-fat diets and girls... don't eat. Lovely.

And then, at the grocery store later on, Alex purchased "chocolate butter."

The Internet

Despite what many people think, Ukraine is NOT a third-world country and we do have such luxuries as running water and the Internet. Or, a lot of people have the Internet. Alex, at the moment, does not. (I do.) You see, last night Roman was trying to connect Alex's ipod to the Internet using a computer-to-computer network on Alex's computer. And then he really fucked up Alex's Internet. None of us could fix it last night and this morning Alex called the Internet provider. "We'll come by at 4:30," the guy said, "but it's going to cost you." Alex reported this to me when he got off the phone. Then he smiled. "Ten Grieven." (A little more than a dollar.)

And that's how things go. Labor is SO CHEAP here I can't believe it... which sort of sucks for everyone since you can't buy a cup of coffee with 10 Grieven.

Maybe we should get a housekeeper.

The Truth About Cross-Cultural Relationships

So far I've found basically all Ukrainians unusually pleasant. Until tonight. Alex's friend Nastya (Since I already know a Nastya, let's call her Anastacia, her full name.) has been dyinngg to meet me and calls almost every day trying to set something up. Finally, today, we decided to go over to her place for a little Cognac-infused get together. By the time we got there everyone was drunk and Nastya was very nice to me. She's a professional plane-jumper-outer-person and showed me her medals and a poster of herself. She also said nice things about me to Alex. I stumbled in conversation with the other people there and one guy in particular creeped me out. I think he was on drugs and he kept asking me political questions in a hybrid bad English and way-too-fast Russian. His first question: Do you like Ukraine? I answered yes and he grilled me about how I could possibly like it here when the president blah blah blah. It was very uncomfortable. Anyway, as the night went on there was a lot of arguing going on at the table and I sensed I had something to do with it because Sargay kept telling me that "it's ok". Well... apparently sweet like Anastacia suddenly decided that she hates America and hates Americans and couldn't understand why Sasha would be with one. Everyone stood to defend me, and by the end of the night she was very apologetic about the outburst, but it brought out a good point that I avoid thinking about: A lot of people are NEVER going to accept Alex and me being together. On the outside, they might, but deep down a lot of people, in America and in Ukraine, are going to have a problem with it. I witnessed it in America and of course it works the other way. Americans aren't exactly loved across the world, even post-election... and I know a lot of people here question why he didn't settle down with a nice Ukrainian girl.

It depresses me. Alex is a good person. I like to think of myself as a good person. We're in love. Shouldn't that be enough for EVERYONE ELSE? Or maybe I shouldn't care, but as much as I try to forget it... it still bothers me quite a bit.

OBAMA (Cade, don't read this)

Obama is president. Yesterday was the first day I felt homesick because I seriously wanted to be in America for such a historic event. Alex and I ended up watching the inauguration streaming on the Internet. The quality sort of sucked, but I got the picture. I was screaming and clapping and Alex was giggling at me and mom was trying to Skype me.

Yesterday was a big day for America and it was a really big day for all of us who have been working so hard the past 8 years to get a bloody Democrat in the White House. The only time in my life I have ever truly felt depressed was the week after Bush was "reelected". I just walked around in this horrible daze feeling... hopeless. I remember some acquaintance came up to me while I was walking to class a few days after the 2004 election and asked me, "How are you?" Instead of the typical, "Oh, I'm fine." I was like, "Absolutely terrible." And then I walked away.

And here we are, four years later, and I want to run up to Ukrainians on the street and shake them and ask if they understand how amazing yesterday was.

(Side story: I was talking to Alex's friend Vara about politics yesterday and he told me he supports Democracy with some facets of communism and when he said that I laughed because that word still seems so... taboo... to me. I was surprised by my own reaction.)

One of the first things I thought about yesterday was the bumper sticker Mason had on his car that just had the date 1-20-08 on it. It seemed kind of unreal that it was that day. And not a moment too soon.

One thing makes me nervous though, and maybe this is totally rediculous, but there was this old Russian witch way back when who told the future and the last thing she ever predicted was, "The first black American president will be the last American president." Everyone keeps talking about it here and it terrifies me. What's happening with our world that makes that seem like it could be a possibility?

Good luck, Barack.

Moda Ukraine

So what's in fashion in Ukraine? I asked myself, and Sasha, this question many times before I arrived and got no good answer. If you happen to be planning a trip to this lovely part of Eastern Europe in the winter, here's what you should wear:

If you're a:

Baboushka (which means grandmother, not head scarf):
A long real-fur coat or a fur-trimmed winter coat in a strange color like that mauvey pink color that people wore in 1990. A light-colored wool hat. Flat, calf-high boots. A sweater, perhaps hand-knit. Pants. Not jeans or sweatpants. Also, curl your hair.

Old guys: Old Soviet-type trench coats and a fur hat.

Young guy: Black winter jacket, possibly with a fur-lined hood. Relatively tight jeans that are dark washed with accents and weird little pieces of metal. Tight designer sweaters or tight-fitting sweatshirts with, again, little pieces of weird metal everywhere. Cut your hair very short and always wear a black hat.

Young girl: Tall boots all the time except when in a house and then you wear slippers. Corduroy pants that hit just above your tall boot. Tight jeans tucked into your tall boots. A fur coat or a fur-collared coat. A fur hat. Anything so slutty it makes you gasp. Weird pieces of metal can be added to any of these items clothing.

Baby: Babies never leave their sleds. Just need to wear something warm.

Babies & What To Wear

Yesterday morning we got a call that one of Alex's friends just had a baby. According to tradition this means the couple's closest friends get together and eat Oliviera (Russian salad) and drink vodka with the father. The mother is still in the hospital which I find very unfair. Alexandr better be holding my hand in that hospital room until I come home. I'm not even sure if I'll allow him to leave to get coffee. (This is my hypothetical future pregnancy by the way.) Anyway, we were supposed to get picked up at 8 pm, but at 5:30 his other friends call us and tell us they will be there in half an hour. At the time Alex and I were sprawled out on the bed un-showered.

Which brings me to What To Wear:

Alex left in half an hour (being a guy he can get ready in 30 minutes) and they agreed to go shopping and then meet me in another half hour. I showered and began to get dressed which ended up with me throwing every outfit I own (not a whole lot here) on the bed and standing in front of the mirror naked. Finally I decided on a little black dress, sweater and tall black boots. And then I changed my mind and put on a jean skirt instead. What do you wear to a yay-you-had-a-baby-party. When Alex got home I asked him if what I was wearing was okay (often when I ask that he says no. You're wearing heels to go sledding? Those are summer jeans, it is -25C out... Won't that jacket get dirty (you know what I'm talking about, Jackie).) Anyway he says "you look beautiful" but then we get out the door and he says "Maybe you should have just worn jeans, you're going to be cold."

Okay, so, basically I dress incorrectly for every occasion all the time. When we went snowboarding in Karpati, Oksana was like "Wow that is the first time I've seen you dress appropriately (in snowpants)." Clearly this is because I never understand what we're doing and Alex never seems to tell me until we're leaving the apartment. Maybe I should start asking before I get dressed. Or having him dress me.

Anyway, back to the baby.

We had a nice little party at the house of the new parents but I couldn't get over the fact that the father wasn't with his wife.

In conclusion, I refuse to have a kid anywhere but America and I need to a new wardrobe.

Sasha Neit Doma & A History Lesson

"Sasha neit doma" ... that's what I have to say when I answer the phone and Alex isn't around. Yesterday someone hung up on me. No one knows what to do with my lack of Russian. My Russian is coming along... it really is. I know a lot of words now and Alex is always quizzing me with these little piles of yellow flash cards littered all over the apartment. I'm really glad to be learning Russian but, of course, things aren't going as quickly as I'd like. I still can't, like TALK. Which I really really really want.

Which brings me to a point that isn't really related. Ukrainian versus Russian. A lot of Americans I talk to don't even realize Ukrainian is a language Here's the deal: (At least as I understand it...)

Ukraine was, not so long ago, in the Soviet Union, right? And that meant they spoke Russian here. Now, during the period and currently Ukraine was relatively split, East and West; with the east being closer to Russia and the West being closer to Poland. The Ukrainian language stayed strong in the West part of Ukraine, but virtually disappeared in the East (and the south by the Black Sea I'm fairly sure). When the Soviet Union broke, Ukraine was eager to reinstate their language. In cities like Chernigov (where I live... Chernihiv in Ukrainian) Russian schools transitioned to Ukrainian schools and suddenly Ukrainian wasn't just a language they learned in school, it was the language they were taught in. In Western Ukraine this was less of a problem since people still spoke Ukrainian at home. Now many people there don't speak Russian at all, or just as a "second" language. In East Ukraine they are still having transition problems. Newspapers, official documents and schools are all in Ukrainian, but people still speak Russian and, in fact, most people don't seem to speak Ukrainian very well. When we were in East Ukraine, of 20 people Alex was the only who spoke Ukranian well. (When he was little he spent a lot of time in the summer with his grandmother in West Ukraine.) Children tend to have a difficult time in school because, although they are exposed to Ukranian, they speak Russian at home and may not have parents who speak Ukrainian at all (We were watching some making the band type of show yesterday and there was this controversy because out of 5 girls, 4 of them didn't speak Ukrainian at all which they judges didn't think was OK for a Ukrainian reality show.) and then they are in school and suddenly everything is in Ukrainian. When I talked to Alex about this he seemed to think it wasn't an issue but I talked to his friend's wife, who has an 8-year-old daughter and she thought it was a huge problem for the kids.

Interesting, eh?

Russian Music Videos...

I am obsessed with the music tv channel here... Maybe because it is the only channel I understand... but I think it is becoming an unhealthy obsession. This is my favorite song (wait it through until the talking stops... it is very catchy):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hXSGfCeOL7k

Sleeshish?

This One is for Zach: Ukraine Description

The buildings:
Ukraine LOOKS exactly how you imagine it does. Soviet apartment buildings mixed with beautiful old gold-domed churches. It took me a while to realize this, but the buildings look strange because although the main structures are uniform, the balconies, which every apartment has and are typically glassed-in are all different, giving buildings this strange pasted-together look. Alex says this is because the buildings are so old and eventually the balconies need repair, but every family can only afford to do so much, so some balconies are beautiful and made of stained hardwood, while others are tacked together with old pieces of rusted metal. I found this to be true of most Soviet housing, regardless the city. However, pre-Soviet buildings tend to be beautiful. Kiev, as a whole, is a gorgeous super-old city that resisted most Soviet architecture. On the outskirts of cities are groups of houses separated by fences and usually without much land. Recently there has been a push for houses in villages nearby cities, but until very recently the villages in Ukraine were dirt poor and not somewhere anyone wanted to live. The wealthiest people tend to live in big, gated communities, within the city limits or in the newer apartment buildings. A family might buy a floor of a building so they can all stay close.

Wealth:
Generally, people here are poor, especially lately. Many typical jobs pay 1,000 Grieven a month... which is about (at the current exchange rate) $100. And things aren't necessarily cheap here... an apartment could easily cost a few thousand Grieven in rent a month, often more, and food is outrageous. For example, Alex and I will go for a "little shopping" buying food to last us a few days and we'll spend 200 Grieven. So 1,000 a month gives you 5 times shopping for a couple. Not so good.

The People:
Ukrainians are very nice. Seriously. They are hospitable and friendly and, although they always seem to be frowning when you see them on the street, seem to be cheery, especially when vodka is involved. Everyone wears fur coats and fur hats. Even little kids. They tend to dress very fashionably and the girls usually look a little on the whorish side (not so say American girls don't). Everyone here is skinny. Most have blue eyes. Most have black or blond hair. The guys dress very European. I have yet to see a girl wearing anything on her feet other than tall boots. Including children.

The Food:
I sort of hate Ukrainian food, as you may have figured out from previous posts. They eat a lot of weird meats and put mayonnaise on salad. They also love eating salted fish with beer and bread and butter topped with weird stuff.

All in all, though, I like it here. The people are nice to me and it is endlessly interesting to be here. I just like being able to cook my own meals :-)

A Friend!

First of all, I am lazy. This is what a lack of schedule does to you. Or maybe this is what 6 days with zero sleep does to you. I have no idea what I did today but besides figuring out our money situation (yay for the dollar going up!) and cleaning the apartment and taking down the Christmas tree... actually, I take that back, maybe we did do something today... but I didn't leave the house. Not even once. And it isn't even freezing out... about 10 F... which is a whole lot of warm compared to the -25 C the other day... ie: -13 F. So much for Ukraine having weather similar to NH. Someone remind me why I'm not in Greece...

Anyway, last night we had Oleg and Nastya and their daughter Angelina over for dinner. I made olive-y red sauce and spaghetti and Alex made horiatiki. Alex and I were both sick which put a damper on things but I really like Nastya and she speaks English and I was sort of kind of thrilled to be able to talk to her. She wants to get together sometime without the boys which makes me happy. Did I make a friend here???

Anyway, I'm going to go drag Alex away from his iPod (I bought him IPod Touch Soccer for New Year's... bad idea) so we can watch a movie and cuddle.

Oh, and tomorrow we're going to Chernoble. Or close.

Culture. Shock.

It is 11 am on Friday, January 9th. I am in the living room of our apartment in Chernigov, Ukraine. Alex is asleep in the bedroom under a big fleece leopard-print blanket his mother sent us from Greece. We returned at 8 this morning from a trip to West Ukraine. It was a whole mix of things but generally one big culture shock for me. It started on January 3rd in the afternoon. I was feeling sick and we were about to embark on a 12-hour bus ride with 20 other people. Destination: Karpati, Ukraine. The mountains in Western Ukraine where we would snowboard and see a little of West Ukraine. We boarded the bus at about 4 pm (an hour after we were supposed to). The crowd was mostly youngish-couples with one family and a mother and her 10-year-old daughter. Alex and I were going with one of his best friends and his wife. When everyone settled in our guide, Alexandr Andrevivich, took the microphone at the front of the bus and started laughing and making jokes (that I didn't understand, clearly, and this is a big factor for me) and promised us champagne since he was late. I thought it was an empty promise but sure enough when the bus started he passed out plastic cups and bottles of champagne. I drank some despite feeling sick (as I mentioned earlier) but was worried because I didn't think a long bus ride + champagne + sickness + a (newfound) tendency to get car-sick would end very well. As we finished our champagne... all hell broke loose. People started tearing open hidden bottles of cognac (mostly cognac for some reason) and taking shots out of their plastic cups. I looked around in horror and realized Alex and his friends were not only taking part in this insanity, but were LEADING in it. In a matter of 2 minutes the bus has turned into a full-out party and I was just sitting there in shock. I refused shots several times over the course of a few minutes and as I watched this I got sort of pissed (in the American sense- HA)... no one had warned me that this was what Ukraine bus trips were like (and trust me, they all knew) and I was not prepared to get shitfaced and not exactly thrilled that Alex was ignoring me and everyone was speaking Russian and I was sitting in my window seat like a loser. Eventually things calmed down and Alex explained to me that, yes, this is typical. Soon the bus pulled over so the drunken passengers could use the bathroom. I got off the bus and saw no bathrooms... just trees. "Where are the bathrooms?" I asked Alex. "Just go by a tree." He said. This is normal in America for a car, maybe, if someone really has to go... but an entire bus, nuh-uh. I was feeling culture-shocked already. Finally, after hours of drunken craziness that I refused to take part in (maybe if they were drinking beer I would have cracked, but I still can't handle the thought of cognac on a bus), sort-of sleeping and a realization that my American-ness was going to be a big attraction (one drunk girl sat with me for 45 minutes pointing to things and making me say them in English) we arrived at our hotel. The rooms were bearable, but sub-par and decorated with glitter on the walls and fake plants hanging above the beds. It was morning at the point and we went down for breakfast (thank God, I was starving and all breakfasts and dinners were included in the price of our trip). The room where we were to eat was barely above freezing and even in a turtleneck and sweater and I was shivering. And then there was the food. Sitting at every place on a long table were bowls of beet salad and cookies. This was breakfast? I sat down and pushed the food around my plate, starving. Little did I know this was only the beginning of a week of terrible food experiences. After breakfast we headed off for a tram ride. It was pretty fun even thought it was a small train, not a tram, and did not go "up the mountains" as promised. At one point we stopped and drank "life water" from a spring and then literally stopped at an old lady's house who served us bread with butter, pickles and meat and tea from a giant metal bucket (needless to say I didn't have any) in exchange for tips from us. People drank the entire tram ride. After the tram we went to a Kaliba (traditional Ukrainian restaurant that is rustic in every sense of the word... and from my experience they are never really heated) and I had a decent meal of soup and some potato thing. It was fortunate that the meal was good. Dinner that night was not edible and included yogurt and an orange. We spent the evening drinking. Go figure. The next day we got up early to go snowboarding and skiing. I was a little worried about breakfast and rightfully so. We were served cabbage salad and assorted piece of cake (sound like leftovers to you?) and then... get this... mashed potatoes with meat. FOR BREAKFAST. I walked out and never came back to breakfast. The next morning they got soup. As we got back to the room Alex said "I'm worried that you didn't eat any breakfast..." I replied, "I'm worried you DID." Snowboarding the first day was a disaster. First we went to a mountain and all the lifts were broken. Then we drove to a farther away one and they didn't have any snowboards of course. We ended up having a nice day though... Alex and I took a sleigh ride out to this nice waterfall... but seriously, no snowboards at all? Alex eventually got them to get some for us for the next day but I was still pretty annoyed. It turns out though, and I realized this the next day, the snowboarding was AWFUL. The chair lifts were from 1900 and the trails were so skied-off there was more grass than snow. Ugh. So, after the snowboard-less day we went to another Kaliba. This one wasn't heated at ALL except for an open fire in the middle of the room. (I could still see my breath.) We ate shashlike (a traditional meat kabob) and listened to live music and drank (do you see a pattern?). It was a lot of fun. We danced around the fire and had a good time. Alex even fake-proposed to me to the delight of everyone (I'm still waiting for the real one :-) ). The days went on like this. A mix of disappointments and delights. Sometimes I was really happy and sometimes I was like "let's go home, please, right now". I can't really explain culture shock or how strange it was for Ukrainians to have an American among them (people were asking Alex questions left and right and alternating between treating me like a princess and ignoring me. The little girl (and also Alex's other friends who met us there's daughter) spoke some English and was obsessed with me. I've promised to go horseback riding with her sometime. A REAL LIVE AMERICAN.) but it was generally kind of strange and difficult to deal with at times. Culture shock happens when you aren't looking and it isn't necessarily about the big things- those you expect- but the little things, like beets for breakfast.