Do You Know Starbuck's Code? A Reverse Culture Shock Tale

I'm learning new code in the U.S., Starbucks code. When I say that I don't mean Starbuck's beverage language like a tall Chocolate Dalmatian, I mean the Starbucks' patron code. 

Today while waiting for an appointment, I hunkered down to work at a nearby Starbucks. It was here that I was reminded of the patron code. Restroom code. Restroom code is where you are approached by a patron sitting near you who politely asks the small favor, "Can you watch my things while I use the restroom?" 

I'd been sitting at my table today, sipping my grande caramel macchiato with almond milk for about an hour when a nearby female patron asked me for this favor. I obliged but was taken back when she asked. I don't think it's rude or asking too much; it's just that I haven't lived within this culture for a while. I moved back to the U.S. in August after living overseas for ten years. As my new Starbucks' friend used the facilities, I pondered why this question, this favor, took me by surprise. 

In Prague, where I lived for the past four years, we didn't have this same code. If you needed to use the restroom, you packed everything up and took your things with you. Granted, I didn't visit Starbucks in Prague frequently for a few reasons. These included the fantastic cafe culture in my neighborhood, pickpocketing, and Starbucks' prices compared to local cafe prices (local cafes usually had better coffee too), it's just you'd never ask a stranger this favor there. 

It was about this time when my Starbucks' BFF returned. She smiled and said, "Thanks so much. Happy to repay the favor for you."

And about 10 minutes later, I took her up on it. It felt a bit strange, but it was so delightful to be able to leave my things at my table and not worry about them because I knew she would be watching them for me. 

Reverse culture shock is a funny thing because I never know when it'll strike. Today it happened at Starbucks. 

English Burst my Language Bubble: A Repatriation Poem

Bom dia.

Namaste.

Ahoj.

Hello.

For two years, I floated in Portuguese.

Tudo bom? (How are you?)

Tudo bem. (I'm good.)

Each morning 

when I entered my school campus in Brazil, 

the security guards and I 

exchanged these smiley greetings.

For four years, I zoomed around India.

Bus. (Stop.)

Bus. Bus! (Stop right now because this is the shop I want to visit.)

Each day 

as I buzzed 

around Mumbai in a rickshaw, 

I knew I needed to lean forward 

so I could see out and tell

the rickshaw driver 

to stop as he approached my destination.

For four years, I dined in Prague.

Dobrou chut' (Enjoy your meal.)

Na zdraví. (Cheers.)

Each day

as I ate lunch 

or enjoyed a Friday Happy Hour with my friends,

we wished each other well

as we shared food and time

together.

Outside these small moments,

I lived in a bubble.

Understanding some.

Using the Google Translate app on my phone.

Reading labels.

Making guesses.

Language became background noise

when I didn't have enough.

I lived in an English language bubble.

Choosing when it formed.

Choosing when I popped it.

Six months ago, 

English burst my language bubble.

My return to Chicago

popped it.

Some days, I hear

the everyday conversations 

of families at the grocery store

about which aisle contains 

an ingredient for tonight's dinner.

These are the moments living 

outside the bubble 

guides joy into my heart.

Some days I hear

families in disagreement

over big topics.

Or I turn on the car radio 

where I'm greeted by 

the weekend's violence.

These are the moments living

outside the bubble

my head feels overwhelmed.

My language bubble

wasn't made of gum so

I can't blow one again.

Instead, it was like a soap 

bubble floating into

the air.

My language bubble burst.

Stats

Most of my first week in Prague updates have been on Instagram (link here if you wanna see different photos or to follow me). Based on feedback there, this post is framed in the same manner. It's organization and info is little different than my typical post.

A few stats from my first week in Praha...

17,040 steps on average/day
Coming from Mumbai where I rode everywhere and considering this isn't a workout, I feel great about my daily step average. Using public transport, preparing for my apartment move and doing a bit of sightseeing encourages a lot of steps. Before I moved to Prague, I was curious about how living here would impact my daily movement so I joined the fitness tracker club (mine's a Garmin) and do feel that sense of satisfaction others raved of when I walk more than the previous day. I'm loving the ease of getting around here. It's one of the reasons Prague felt like it would be a good fit for me.

Gotta love Google maps & easy navigable public transport

Bus station timetables are posted and easy to read

Glad I've got comfy shoes for these streets.

3+1 = my apartment
In Prague apartments are rented and sold by the number of rooms. My new apartment is a 3+1 which means 2 bedrooms, 1 living room and a separate kitchen. When you read the apartment ads it's like a new code with things like 2+kk, 2+1, etc. I found a great place for me. Great neighborhood, rigth across from a large park with a beer garden, close to public transport and a farmer's market. Inside it has some old charm, great lighting and a modern kitchen. I'll get the keys later today and share pics soon.

By apartment building's door

My new street with some cloudy skies

??? liters of pivo
That's how beer is ordered in the Czech Republic, so don't think I'm suddenly drinking the whole day away. The Pilsner's cold and delicious. It's also cheap! It's only about 80 cents (USD) for half a liter. It doesn't fill you up (no carbonation) and is the perfect thing to have at the end of the day while catching up with new friends and colleagues.

Beer and bowling at my hotel

1 Free Tour
Since this is my first time here, I had to play tourist for a day. I took a advantage of a 3-hour free tour. It's organized by a company who's guides wages are based on tips. It was a great way to see some of the city and get oriented. I didn't go photo crazy either during the tour nor with my sharing here, just took some of those things I found interesting and/or beautiful.

Church of Saint Ludmilla

David Cerny's UnUtero; A pregnant woman who's womb you can climb into

The medieval astronomical clock at Old Town Hall

Old Town Square

20 tourists
I'd read and heard that sunrise and sunset over the Charles Bridge are the best times to visit. I had tried mid-day earlier this week and hated the crowds so decided to get up early yesterday and try it out. Now sunrise here is at 5:27 am with it being summer, so I didn't arise that early but made it to the bridge by 7:30 and at the most I only saw about 20 tourists. The peace made the area even more enchanting.

A gate to enter Charles Bridge

A bride out early taking some photos on the bridge

Canal in the Castle district

John Lennon wall

A few love locks on a canal bridge

View of the castle and Charles Bridge and this is just my iPhone not a postcard I swear!

??? cafe au lait
Cafe culture is big in Prague and I've had the caffeine to prove it.

Complimentary cookie and Sudoku at Cafe Lounge

13:00 - 17:00
Tomorrow IKEA will deliver my sofa, dishes, glasses and a couple of pillows. It's a sleeper sofa for those who are wondering...

It's crazy how easy shopping can be sometimes

Shopping for the "needs" like storage under tiny sinks

So not my typical post, in format or content, but thought I'd share a few more stats and some photos from my first week in my new home city.

Home Revised

It seems like there's a trending topic with bloggers I follow lately. The concept of home. I wrote my own version while on my flight home from Mumbai to Chicago a week and a half ago. 

Then I was met at the airport with huge hugs. 

After just a few hours back in the the States, I realized my original "home" post needed a major rewrite.

Until I boarded the plane, I had called Dekalb, Illinois and Mumbai, India home. In DeKalb, home held memories of Christmas Eve traditions including matching jammies. In Mumbai, it facilitated escape from beautiful chaos. Both places created safety, peace and comfort. 

The final few weeks, I felt like I'd lost home. My sense of having a place had evaporated. 

Which is where?

I was in stuck in-between places Trying to accept that I'd spend the summer holding a pin to put onto my map.

But then unexpectedly, I found home. A bedroom in my parents' new house that was decorated less than 24 hours after 2 closings. 

My bedroom for the summer including cute throw pillows

A sister trip to Vancouver with the Goo. Watching soccer out with my parents. Spending a Saturday catching up with dear friends in Chicago. I realized that sometimes home isn't one place. It's not the place your parents lived for 28 years. Not the apartment you painted in vibrant hues in Mumbai. Home is anywhere and everywhere. It's where I make it.

For this summer, not only does Kermit have a home but I have one too. The uncertainty I'd struggled with the final few weeks of the school year in Bombay has been unexpectedly reattached. Stitched back into the place by the people I love. Thank you.

Crashes

Yesterday the walls came crashing down. Literally.

One of the cabinet doors in my kitchen broke away from the wall as I attempted to put away my freshly washed french press.

At the time I thought it was funny. The external, literal falling down of things around me. Lately it's felt like I've been driving in Mumbai again; trying to dodge collisions and this one I couldn't avoid.

Yesterday though, I shrugged it off, put in my School Dude request to have it repaired (Yes, I know I'm spoiled by only completing a brief online form to have a handyman come to my apartment and make the repair for free) and went about the remainder of my day.

About 11:30 this morning, though there was a pile up. This crash came in the form of a doorbell and a table.

My friend's movers arrived to pick up the table she bought from me.

The movers slide off their sandals, picked up the table and were out in again in moments. This move was perfect. A green light. After closing the door, I sat back down to work. My eyes glanced back to the lesson plan and suddenly, I started to cry. The collision A full on, noise making, eye squinting, boogery cry. I'd been hit.

Also when you move furniture you also realize just how dirty your walls are.

While washing my face, I realized this crash had nothing to do teaching but was all about my space. I'm a nester. My home space is important to me. It's sacred. This new emptiness made me feel as though the end had arrived.

The longer I live abroad though, I realize this is part of transitioning. It comes in waves. Today hit me. It wasn't so much about the thing. The table. It was about the people I'm saying goodbye to for a while.

Rather than wallowing in my sorrows in my emptier nest, I reached out to my friends who in an instant were there with understanding and support.

Friends quickly offered to move up our afternoon date. They arrived earlier. After lunch, manis and pedis and just some good talks and quality time with some of my girls; I'm no longer suffering from transition whiplash.

While I hope no more literal things come tumbling down around me, I do know that these collisions will be a part of the next few months ahead.

End note 1: In case you wondered, the French press was also a casualty. Shattered and not quite as shrug-off-able as the cabinet door.

End note 2: Yes we are riding in a rickshaw with a lampshade above our heads. All you need to know is that it made me feel better. 

Transitions Suck

Transitions suck.

They’re hard. I know what’s ahead. 

Packing. Saying goodbye.

Waiting. Sitting in between moments.

Being the new girl. Seeking possibilities.

I’ve done this before. I’ve watched family and friends navigate them.

New countries and cities. Jobs and marriages. Babies being born while loved ones grow older.

Sometimes we RSVP’d change and sometimes they’ve crashed our party.

I invited them. I invited change.

But right now it feels; I feel sad.  

Because I feel right here is right.

And that’s okay because it's just all part of this.