Starting with boiled custard. You might say, "Kendall, this is an old recipe, without precise measurements, carried out by your grandmother and her intuitive knowledge of cooking. Why, you don't even have cups and tablespoons to measure with, just a large mixing bowl with graduated gram measurements on the side, and the word 'sugar' in 18 different languages. Maybe you should just buy your friends some cookies and call it a night."
I cannot accept this because 1., there is last Sunday's lunch to consider and 2., I found mayonnaise in the grocery store.
Last Sunday, the soon to be in-laws of Martin invited me and several youths over for lunch. We had lunch, then lunch, and at the end, lunch and coffee. I knew from prior experience to pace myself, but small portions still add up when there's coffee cake, soup, turkey, rice, potatoes, turkey, chicken, salad, fruit salad, nuts, cake, and coffee. At least there were many people around the table, so I was not the only guest who had to choose between gluttony and leaving the host with a week's worth of leftovers.
After lunch, while we ate more and drank coffee, we all chatted and relaxed. Sometimes people spoke in English, sometimes Martin or Angie translated, and occasionally I shared big gestures and simple phrases with the people gathered. Most of the time the group spoke Czech and I sat, content to listen.
The human ability to communicate is really something. Without any knowledge of the language, I could still feel like part of the conversation and understand the emotions being conveyed. When I laughed along with the others, I wasn't dumbly mimicking; watching eyebrows and hands and listening to cadence is 85% of what makes a joke funny. I really was amused. [Interesting side note: mute listening really relieves a burden for introverts who want to have two-way mirror type socializing. We can observe and absorb and not be expected to reflect. Fully passive and fully participatory. Cross-cultural communication in this way is really a revelation for introverts who want to be conscientious.]
Not only was I treated to after lunch eats, I was treated to an after lunch trip. Martin's future brother-in-law drove me and two girls from the youth group to Hřad Střekov, a castle that has been around since before William took a holiday in Hastings. His family footed the bill, with no contribution from us 'young folks' (? I'm not sure how I fit in...as old or older than all the youthes, but just as dependent) allowed.
The Labe Rive was a pleasant backdrop to view as we waited for our tour to start. We introverts are very attuned to and appreciative of events, landmarks or calamities that relieve a conversation burden from us.
The tour was as marvelous and educational as any romp through an old, old well-used place can be. Judging on body gestures and eyebrows the tour guide was excellent. She gave me an English write-up about the castle and let me hold a sword, so I would recommend her to anyone. To complete the day, we were driven to an ice cream shop before heading back to Lito. I had a wonderful Sunday, from the morning service with Angie's heartfelt translation of the sermon to the windy ride back, full of laughter and red sunbeams. But I also felt pampered to an obscene degree. I mean...geeze. Food, fellowship, castles and ice cream...I wasn't expecting this.
At orientation, we discussed that loaded word, "expectations", and how to prepare ourselves against the disappointment and frustration of unrealistic expectations, which are inevitably not fulfilled. I thought back to my difficult adjustment to life in England (where they speak English...) and Brock's difficult adjustment to western CZ. I thought of how much difference an attitude adjustment could have made at those times, and I tried to come to Lito prepared for bad accommodations, hostile, lazy people and food that could only taste worse if it were half-rotten. And what have I gotten instead? A private, comfortable room with windows that opens, delicious, hearty food, and people who could not be more generous and caring if they knew for a fact that they were entertaining angels. So here I am, here I have been for three weeks, ready to grin and bear it, while all my needs have been met.
When great expectations are not met, the disappointment is severe. But what happens when bleak expectations are not met?
All I can think to do is to make banana pudding and cole slaw. If I cannot keep the Czechs from stealing my heart, then I'll make them think they left their hearts in the Southlands.
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