like they would like their brains to end up in the tissue?
Honestly, for me it's unbelievable. Imagine sitting in the office. Quite a calm environment when BAM! you hear it. The horn blows. We are making a competition in the office among us expats to see who can take it to the end..In case you are wondering "to take what?" it's easy: to resist the urge of not feeling so sick that you will need the restroom.
I searched on the internet for a plausible explanation. Not any found by now.
Czechs blow their noses really loud and no matter where they are. Be it a public transport or a restaurant and this is not considered to be impolite. BUT..they say hello and goodbye. Aww that makes you feel so special doesn't it? It's more offensive to forget the goodbye part than to blow your nose like a trumpet in public. And then shake hands...
We did also a trial..let's see if we can make it. I thought my brain will explode. As much as I tried I felt like an elephant that had the trump made in a node. My momma taught me: blow one nostril, then the other..no noise. If you really have to do it in public, be discrete. It happens when I am at lunch or dinner to need a bit of cleaning but I do my best not to get noticed and get others disgusted. Still it could be considered even so, as being rude. Not for a Czech :).
I am an expat. Or at least, you can call me a foreigner. Was not born in this country, I struggle with the language, but here I am..one year after I moved in, still surviving.
You might ask what country this is. Well ladies and gents, welcome to the life of an expat in the Czech Republic!
So, this will be my journal. The journal of an expat. Enjoy!
8 months of Winter....how does that make you feel? That was one silly, crazy but sadistic winter, If i come to "sink" about it this sounds like a best seller title.. Nevertheless the bestseller was the super ultra thick jacket I searched for at least three weeks in a last century outlet center.
PS: we will talk about the other national treasure- smell, later on...
"Mommy, I cannot wait to end up with school and go as you to the office!" the little girl said, looking at her mom with big green eyes. She had a glimmer in her eyes that showed the dream of being adult. AND THEN, she grew up. And damn, how that dream was left far behind. Growing up...the girl realized that things are not as they seem. School was out, but still she has to wake up at 7am, walk to the bus, and then get to the office. Kind of the same shite, just that you get paid for it. And you can buy almost everything you want. And stay up late. Sitting in the bus that every day takes me to work, I realize that no matter what we will do, us humans will find something new to bitch about. When young, we complain about school; when older, we cry that we need vacation and that we have T-35 years left of work (minimum). But you get to drink them out... But there are the 30 minutes every day on the way to work of dreaming. Passing right next to the airport makes me dream about how would it be to be a flight attendant. How do the people that just land feel? Every morning at 9:10 the Antalya flight lands and I get to see the whole event. If not, I dream about being in my cool imaginary car driving on the highway to nowhere..not to work at least. And this every day...I look at the fields that just kiss the blue sky and imagine I am there, in the middle of it. I think of my childhood safe place in the countryside, just lying on my back, watching the sky and making up stories with the few scattered clouds. And I wake up just when the driver takes the exit to Rudna, bringing me back in the cold computer and outlook reality. But then again, there is the way back to freedom...and beer...every day after almost 8 hours..
Ladies and gentlemen, the Antalya flight has landed.
There is this weird commercial in my home country that teaches us how to talk bulgarian english...It says "do something new: remember za parspactiv, za parsijian iend za parsantagi." For exact sounds find me...To be honest for me, all people that speak a slavic language but as well some of my countrymen have the same stupid accent. I do as well when drunk/high/tired. But getting back to this bulgarian. He's sexy, he does not have a big head (local saying), and he is sleepy. Always. As any respectable expat he has a czech girlfriend. Went to some other countries before, for now he is stuck in the CZ. And also between the "should I go to my girlfriend's parents cottage and cut the grass or should I go to my friend's bday party and see the stripper?" Getting drunk is the valid option for both cases. Now to present him in the good corporate way: good contributor, fulfills his tasks in time. Then he sleeps...:) But nevertheless a very good going out partner as he is the dude with weird stories about people he knows. Example: drunk guys in Poland (visiting) steal the sword from a statue. They go to jail. Peace out!
Well...Happy Hanukkah to you! My landlord...the bo$$ of the plantation is a nice Israeli guy...Now that is something to dream about. Usually the girls just look at him and sigh. The chosen ones..He is just like a nice wrapped candy that you are drooling for but cannot eat. My tactics? Call him every time something seems not right: ohhh the heating system broke..again. Oh...the shower is leaking..Maybe we should repaint the house? As a landlord he is perfect. Doesn't care about what is happening in that house except for one thing..his soft spot. THE FLOOR.."Please take care of the floor, don't scratch the parquet!". Stupid plastic parquet. Nevertheless the best moment was when doing the math for the bills. Damn that Jew knows his math. I am the best at getting money, but still he concluded: 10 thousand crowns..to pay...me to him. ALLAHHHHH!!!! What is to know about Israeli men in general? 1. Food, it hardly needs saying, is a favourite of Jewish homo erectus. The fastest way to a man’s heart is via his intestinal tract. 2. They like chick-flicks. Seriously. 3. Mess, or the avoidance of same, is key. For some reason, “man” is synonymous with “slob” when really it should be “fanatically, fastidiously neat”. I bet my landlord has his CDs and DVDs alphabetized and ranked by genre. Clothes? They are hung according to style and fabric. 4. They claim they are soft and sensitive. You cannot, therefore, ever suggest that your fella is anything less than the most utterly irresistible creature on earth, even if he does look less like Brad Pitt than Brad Friedel. 5. The money :). One of the greatest fallacies about Jewish men is that they devote much of the time to making money. They do it because they are still insecure about their circumcision and trying to save up enough money to buy back from the mohel what they lost.. Isn't that one stupid? .Fact: The children of Israel roamed the desert for 40 years. Conclusion: Even in those days, a man would never ask for directions.
Well well well.... Second expat on the list is the Britt..Long live the Queen and Bertie the 2nd! He is that kind of guy in his almost 40s, with kids, lost his hair some two years ago, but has the weirdest drinking games ideas ever.. One of them is Edward 40 hands: Edward 40 Hands is a silly game for serious drinkers. In homage to Tim Burton’s film Edward Scissor Hands, players duct tape two 40 oz (~1.2 liters) bottles of malt liquor to their hands. Players may not remove the bottles from their hands until they have finished drinking them. Thus, they cannot do anything but drink—can’t answer their cell phones, go to the bathroom, or open doors—until there is nothing left to drink. Sounds like a long night. Tools needed: large bottles of alcohol, electrical tape, no prior engagements.. Getting back to the Britt, really cool relaxed dude, hard to understand from time to time due to the accent. Coolest thing about him: he was moving organs between hospitals when in the UK. How cool is that? Baseline for number of beers: minimum 6 in 2 hours. Favorite music: HEAVY METAL...too bad the hair is gone.
Friendship between countries. And we are doing it right. When you are in a new country, you can bond with expats...as the universal language brings us together. And no, it's not english as you all might think. It's BEER. Getting invited to a party thrown by a person you cannot even spell his name, in the beer garden, is a plan you cannot refuse. Especially when you have 30 degrees outside. My bulgarian sleepy friend proves himself to be the best weather boy we had..Probably he dreams about it. Yesterday he forcasted rain that was not supposed to happen. Today he promised sun. So help him, weather :).. What will happen? Bunch of people from all corners of the planet will drink and gracefully ignore the main actor and just bond..I discovered that as an expat, it's the easiest way to find out the newest gossips...Today's gossip..somebody is pregnant..wow the news :))) One idea..never order knedliky in the office, presentation is equal to vomit in a plate... Peace out
The coolest thing for me as an expat here: LIFE AFTER WORK. Please, please, allow me explain myself. Work is shit everywhere..ok except for the cases where you are really crazy about what you are doing, or you have your own hobby that transformed into a success business. The rest of us smart-asses have to go to a place that sucks the energy and good things out of you for around 8 hours. What do we do after makes it better. Running for the 4:30 shuttle is the highlight of the day. Once to the subway, sky is the limit. Yesterday's drill: go to the river, rent a pedaling boat, "fish" for coins/old artifacts with a weird magnet. Get attacked by hungry ducks.. Survive. Eat smoked salmon with crackers and drink frisco. Do a perfect side-way parking (you go girl!). Boat is returned, nobody drowned. Meet a friend under a bridge, have some cuba libres. Listen to live balkan music. The crowd is getting bigger. Fish the cigs from the river. People are moving in all directions. Show support to your injured friend. He does look a bit like a hunchback. But he will get straighten up..no worries. Listen to some more music, Dance. Make fun of the other friend by inventing a new version of "Free Willy". Discuss about prices of organs. Why? Just because. More music...no more cigs. Time to go home. AND IT WAS ONLY TUESDAY! PS: met new person: Hello Boris!
Or he might actually be the 1st Czech citizen in my family.
He wasn't such a bad kid, was he? Bob has his human trained well..and he is just at the begging.. Bob is very chatty, but from time to time his speech takes on a very demanding and annoying tone. Cannot put your finger on it but it's close to a pint-sized lion roar, kind of mraaaarw! and usually comes with a small bite or a head in the chin. Yes, he is the proud representative of gang boys. Salutes you with a head in your mouth. If sleeping, the paw is applied gently on the nose or eyes, and if no success he will lick the life out of the human slave. What time is it? Well biatch, 6:45 am. Upon a successful eviction from bed, Bubby would trot ahead of his slave, occasionally throwing another mraaarw! over his shoulder. The salve can also be seen with Bob in hot pursuit, mraaarwing all the way. "What does this basement cat want?" the human wondered. "I've petted him, brushed him, and gave him food, but he wouldn't eat it. He won't shut up!" That will be the mystery of the relationship. He's a cool customer, who will one minute flop on the slave's lap and favor him with the most loving gaze you've ever seen in a cat's eyes. A few minutes later, he will jump down and cast a dismissive glance over his shoulder as he strolls away.
Gotta go, Bubby is summoning me. Oh yes, I am the human slave of this small sized panther with big yellow eyes. It's his time to run like a cheetah and drink water from the shower ..Ain't that neat?