"Now you are real American girl"

Monday.  Definitely the toughest day yet, and hopefully the toughest day period.  It started early - I'm still waking up several times each morning because all that covers the windows is a very thin curtain that lets all the light in; and no matter how late I go to bed, I'm still almost invariably up with the sun, whether I like it or not.  Finally got up around 8:45, which is definitely earlier than usual for this family (or at least Nikola ;]).  Breakfast was some cranberry čai (tea) with med (honey) which was surprisingly good, considering that I don't like tea.  I'd better get used to it, though - I have a strong suspicion I'll be drinking a lot of it in St. Petersburg.  After the tea, Nikola and I walked to a nearby pekara (bakery) and bought some burek.  
Cultural side note: Small, individually owned pekaras in Belgrade are like Starbucks' or McDonalds' in NYC (well, not quite that plentiful, but pretty close), and each one makes the bread right in the back so you know you're getting it fresh.  Serbians (and, I suspect, Russians) eat a lot of bread, and a lot of dairy products (if you've noticed the frequent mention of kaimek, kiselo mleko, sir, and jogurt), especially for breakfast.  On the way to the pekara, we passed a Russian Orthodox church that was having some kind of service and stepped inside.  It was much smaller than St. Markos' cathedral next door but decorated in a similar fashion inside with stained glass windows, a big chandelier, and a bare and open concrete floor.  There were probably 2 dozen people attending the service, which like the wedding on Saturday was replete with chanting in Old Church Russian and an ornately-robed priest.  We were hungry, so we didn't stay long; Nikola said he'd never even seen the church open before.
The burek was a kind of flaky pastry with many layers, rolled up like a cinnamon roll with filling inside.  It is of Turkish origin, as is so much of the food here (due to the many centuries of Ottoman rule in Serbia).  I got two ham-filled and Nikola got one with cheese and one with mushrooms.  There were also potatoes and other savory fillings.  We sat at low, Turkish-style tables right in the pekara and ate our burek with jogurt, which is a very thick liquid but otherwise similar to kiselo mleko (kiselo mleko, or sour milk, is more sour than plain yogurt; jogurt actually tastes like plain yogurt but is of a different consistency).  I have not thus far noticed whether Serbians ever put any flavoring into any of these dairy products as we are so wont to do here in America; if they did, I wonder whether they would call it something else.   
Monday was the first day of the rain that had been predicted for the weekend and first part of the week; I merely felt fortunate that we had had three extra days of good weather beforehand.  Having brought a rain jacket, I felt well-prepared to face the weather; however, I had not adequately considered just how wet my feet would get.  I wore my cloth sneakers, which not surprisingly were soon soaked through.  Since it is summer, the Stojanovics don't use heating in their house, and so drying my sneakers out would prove to be more of a procedure than I would have thought.  The air itself is damp and cool, and as I write this on Wednesday evening, they are just now dry enough for me to move them back into my room, though still quite damp.  Yet another example of how not to use proper footwear; again, I am only glad that I am getting these mistakes out of the way now.
Nikola's philosophy final was at noon, so I hung out with Aca for a while.  Upon first seeing my makeup case when I arrived, Aca inquired as to what it was and when I told him, he asked me if he could do my makeup.  I laughed and asked him if he was any good; he replied with enthusiastic assent and when I looked quizzically at Nikola, he offered, "Well, he does theatre..."  One of the best makeup artists I know at home is Justin Patterson, so the idea that a boy can be good at makeup is not a strange one to me. :] So, when Nikola left for his test, I playfully asked Aca whether he wanted to give me a makeover, which task he promptly undertook with relish and mock seriousness.  Although I had my doubts at sundry points during the procedure, the end result was surprisingly subtle and tasteful.  Aca even straightened my hair for me, and when he finished he declared, "Now you are real American girl."  It is very interesting to see just how America is portrayed to the rest of the world through television and other media, which is the only exposure Aca has really had to our country, despite Nikola's sojourn there.  
After my makeover, Aca and I watched television until Nikola returned.  It is astounding how much of America I found even here - there were American sitcoms (According to Jim, Hannah Montana, the Pokemon movie), English news channels (BBC and CBS), and cheesy, made-for-TV American movies such as you might find on HBO.  Aca and I watched one about a troubled teen who takes a long trail ride with his ailing grandfather and in the process finds himself, you know, the classic story.  Aca kept asking me throughout the movie "Is this like America?  Is it really like that?  Do they really do that?"  I enjoyed his questions and tried to answer them as honestly as possible.  Aca was also astounded to find that I could read latin Serbian (Serbian uses two alphabets, cyrillic and latin - cyrillic is like Russian [довиђенја] and latin looks like our alphabet, with a few additional letters [srečan rođendan]), which, after all, is not very difficult at all since Serbian is such a phonetic language and most of the letters in the alphabet directly correspond to their English counterparts.  When I told Nikola of this, he rolled his eyes and shook his head, saying "Aca keeps forgetting that we have a genius in the house." Pssh. :]
Lunch, which we ate at 3 when Nikola returned, consisted of leftovers from yesterday's dinner.  Since Nikola's parents both work, the family rarely eats together and food usually consists of either leftovers or what can be made from what is in the fridge.  In that respect, the modern Serbian family is not so different from its American counterpart.  After lunch, Nikola once again had to study; he has another final on Thursday (semantics).  It reminded me very much of Princeton during finals week, with perhaps a bit less stress overall.  He spared a few minutes beforehand to show me a few of his new favorite songs (Nikola's idea of a good time: listen to music together) and he played John Lennon's Imagine on piano for me.  I had meant to acquire a copy of the sheet music from him at the end of last year, so I was very intrigued by the simplicity of the arrangement: my new goal is to have it memorized by the time I leave.  I'm very relieved to finally have something to work towards; it makes me feel more productive, being a goal-oriented person.  All of this sitting around and not knowing what we'll be doing from day to day is starting to wear on me, but I suppose it's a good growing experience :\.
Nikola had choir again, but this time only from 6:30-8:00 (thankfully - I don't know whether I could take another 4-hour rehearsal :P).  On the way there, we had to run to catch the bus, but just before we reached the bus stop Nikola saw a man on the sidewalk selling LPs.  It was music - of course he couldn't resist looking through them.  But, just then the bus pulled up and I dragged him away; however, as soon as we were on the bus he began to lament.  Apparently he had found the Pink Floyd (one of his favorite bands) album "Wish You Were Here" and the man was selling it for only 200 dinars (the exchange rate is right now approximately 85 Serbian dinars to the dollar, so that's about $2.50).  Nikola even had a 200-dinar note on him, and by the time the bus reached the next stop he had decided that getting the album was more important than being on time to choir.  So we got off the bus and rushed back to the man selling the records, Nikola worrying the entire time that someone would have bought the record in the 3 minutes we had been gone.  Fortunately (for the both of us, I think :]) no one had and he raved all the way to rehearsal about his find.  It was just the sort of thing he would do, running back to get a good deal on music.  :]
After choir practice, Nikola, Yelena, Danilo and I met up with another one of Nikola's friends, Dacha (who is also the drummer in Nikola's band) and we all went to a stand-up comedy event, one of the first to be held in Belgrade. It was in the style of Eddie Murphy and Robin Williams, but it was (unsurprisingly) in Serbian.  Between tone, body language, and the few words I caught I understood about 1% of his routine, and a couple of times I even got the punch line of his jokes, much to my delight.  The routine lasted about an hour, and when we left the venue it was really raining hard.  Fortunately, some of Nikola's friends gave Nikola, Yelena, and I a ride back to their apartments, so we were spared a dreary walk home.  
Monday night was a rough one for me.  Not being able to understand or engage with anyone but Nikola was really difficult for me, and for him too, I believe.  One incident that brought the matter to a head was when several of the other members of Nikola's choir asked me a question in Serbian.  After a second, I understood that they had asked whether he was my brother, but it took me long enough that they realized that I wasn't a native Serbian speaker.  I was taken aback at being addressed - usually people ignored me as long as I stuck close enough to Nikola and didn't say anything - and that, combined with my fear of communicating in another language, made me unable to answer right away.  Nikola saw this, but he was also surprised by the question and unsure of how to react; whether to wait for me to say something or to answer for me.  I tried to say something in Serbian but they couldn't understand what I was trying to say, and eventually Nikola had to come to my rescue, explaining that I was American and so forth.  I'm not sure how I wanted that interaction to play out, but I wasn't happy about what happened.  Nikola could see that there was something bothering me and, like the good friend that he is, he did all he could to make me feel better.  He was frank; he told me that I didn't know enough Serbian to be able to communicate, so I should just stick to English and hope that the people that I met knew enough to understand me, which was usually the case.  I saw his point, but my stubborn pride refused to accept it: I didn't want to come off as the arrogant American who assumed that everyone spoke English.  I wanted to learn the language; I had tried; I knew a few phrases but my fear of speaking kept me from effectively using even those when I got the chance.  Every time I did manage to say something; dobro jutro (good morning), drago mi je (nice to meet you), laku noc (good night), my interlocutor would show surprise, which grated on me.  Why did everyone think that I would come to another country without even trying to learn the language?  Nikola had an excellent answer to this: "Erin, I know you.  I know you're smart, and that you're trying hard.  When you say something in Serbian, I'm not surprised.  Those people you meet, they don't know you at all.  You don't have "Princeton" or "genius" or even "Erin" written on your forehead.  All they see is "foreigner."  You have to accept that."  He was right.  Once people found out that I was American and couldn't communicate in Serbian, how could they know what I knew?  They didn't know me.  As hard as it was for me to accept, this wasn't something that I could get through by sheer willpower.  I actually had to admit that this was beyond me, that I would have to rely on other people to help me.  I can't call this culture shock, but maybe travel shock.  I include my thoughts and feelings here in detail because I think it is something that has the potential to happen to anyone who travels outside their sphere of experience, especially if they cross a language barrier, and especially if they are smart and willful and accustomed to solving their own problems.  I now see that it is important to realize that no matter how they wish to be perceived, the fact is that the people you meet are going to view you a certain way because you are foreign.  They don't know anything about you, except that you are from another place.  It's important in those situations to realize your limits, to accept help, to do away with pride and inhibitions.  Put yourself out there, outside of your comfort zone, but don't be surprised if you fail.  The important thing is to try.  
Fortunately for me, I had a wonderful friend and host to help me get over that barrier and to reassure me.  I was also beginning to feel that I was imposing on Nikola, since he had to speak English to me all of the time and act as my interpreter and guide.  He assured me that that wasn't the case, and that we knew each other well enough that he would tell me if it ever became that way (I believe him, too).  He said that he loved speaking English with me, because it was something that he didn't get to do very often.  He even went back through the routine of the comedian, letting me tell him what I had understood and explaining the rest to me so that I could laugh with him at all of the jokes.  He brought back my smile which had faded under the weight of my worries.  I'm so glad that I have a friend like him to help me get through all of these new and difficult experiences.  It felt so good to talk with someone that I knew, and whom I knew had felt a little of what I was feeling, not so long ago.  Thank God for friends.


So, if any of you reading this blog feel so inclined, you can pray for me about that - that I won't be a burden to Nikola for the last couple of days that I'm here, and that these experiences here in Serbia will prepare me for Russia.  God is definitely working out for good the fact that I'm here for a week before going off to a place where I may not have such a hard time communicating, but where I won't have this friend and helper with a foot in each world.  Please pray for boldness for me, that I will get over my fear of speaking in a foreign language, which really boils down to a fear of making mistakes.  You can also start praying for travel safety again, as I'll have two stages on my journey from here to Russia.  Pray that all connections are made smoothly and on time, that the transitions between countries are made without any difficulty, and that I easily find my ride on the other end.  If you're really ambitious, you can pray for all of the other Princeton-in-Petersburg students who will be traveling from the States this weekend, that they will all have safe travels with no mishaps or lost luggage.  Pray also for my witness here to the Stojanovics and to everyone I will encounter in Russia.  
Also, feel free to leave me comments here on the blog - any and all encouragement is more than welcome.  And thank you for reading, for accompanying me on my grand adventure.