Bratislava Family Life in Slovakia Mom life Thoughts Travel

6 years in Slovakia…

6 years in Slovakia and I’m still mixing up Už and ešte.

6 years in Slovakia and I know how to make refried beans from scratch.

6 years in Slovakia and a neighbor I never actually met said “Ahoj” to me (!!!!!)

6 years in Slovakia and I can go to the government office with you to interpret (if there’s no one better available).

6 years in Slovakia and I can use the self-checkout without switching the language to English.

6 years in Slovakia and I’m tired of comparing my language competencies to those of other foreigners.

6 years in Slovakia and I finally figured out that sitting on the ground outside alone is rarely appropriate. Thankfully I have children to sit on the ground with now.

6 years in Slovakia and I’m finally learning that it’s difficult and largely unfulfilling to connect with people only on social media.

6 years in Slovakia and I’m learning to reach out to anyone who might be lonelier than me.

6 years in Slovakia, and I can’t understand how anyone who owns a drier would even dream of complaining about doing laundry.

6 years in Slovakia and envy people with grandparents around more than I envy people with driers.

6 years in Slovakia and for the record, I don’t want a drier!

6 years in Slovakia and I don’t feel a longing or a pull to move away.

6 years in Slovakia and I want to go on vacations so that I can get a break from our routine or see a change in scenery, but I’m no longer longing to see billboards and advertisements in English.

6 years in Slovakia and on one hand I am kind of “stuck” here, but on the other hand I don’t want to leave anyway.

6 years in Slovakia and the scenery doesn’t strike me as being “so green” anymore.

6 years in Slovakia and look forward to opportunities to order a sweet lunch.

6 years in Slovakia and I know it’s easier to just say you won’t have any alcohol than to try to get someone to stop filling your glass once you’ve started drinking.

6 years in Slovakia and our freezer is full of fruit from our neighbor’s grandmother’s apricot tree.

6 years in Slovakia and I’m ready to grill the local politicians about why there aren’t enough preschools in our village (not linguistically ready though, so they’ve got a few years before I’ll actually approach them to say what I think).

6 years in Slovakia and I don’t feel like life in America would be so much more convenient, although after 6 years in Slovakia I do think that I would often visit a drive through coffee place if there were such a thing, besides McDonalds, here.

6 years in Slovakia and I’ve been to 4 funerals and 1 wedding. I can’t count how many of those I’ve missed back home.

6 years in Slovakia and I’m more preoccupied with “mom life” than “life abroad.”

 

6 years in Slovakia and I don’t know how many more are in front of me.

6 years in Slovakia and I would like to write this in paragraph form, but it will never get done with this baby on my lap and a toddler asking me to make George Pig fly to get ice cream.

 

 

 

One Comment

  1. Lovely read! I’m having flashbacks of those great but tough years as a foreigner. You’ve hit it on the head. Hope you can feel less lonely, though. Hugs!

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