The Shoe is on the Other Foot

So, how many of you have been guilty of snickering at the little oddities of immigrants living amongst you? Have you ever been slightly annoyed or impatient when a non-English speaking person holds up a line because they don't know our systems and don't know the language? I know a certain someone (I won't mention names), who swears foreigners are the worst drivers. How many times have you heard, "This is America. In America we speak English!" Well, now the shoe is on the other foot. We are the oddballs here, the bumbling idiots who hold up lines, cause traffic jams, and incur the wrath of the Polish speaking population as we (more like I) attempt communicating solely with facial expressions and hand gestures. And I must say, it is very HUMBLING!

We have some very sweet Polish friends Ben met through the defense academy he is attending. They have been showing us around the area and took us to a public swimming pool last week. This indoor facility was awesome... it had a huge lap pool, kids pool, and regular swimming pool. Well, when we walked in we felt kind of sheepish as everyone stared at Ben in his swimming trunks. Every male, including Ben's friend, was in a speedo. Ben, on the other hand, was wearing long baggy swimming trunks with a Hawaiian floral print . He caused quite the scene. Ben's friend, Krzystof, explained that he couldn't swim in the lap pool. He pointed to a sign that shows a stick person in swimming trunks with an X over it and a stick person in a speedo with a circle around it. Yeah, speedo required. So, Ben was stuck in the kiddie pool the whole time. He must have been kind of bored, because for some reason he thought it'd be a good idea to take Emily down the small kiddie slide. He barely fit and made a huge splash in the little pool. One of the life guards wagged his finger at him. Obnoxious American. Our friends had to be kind of embarrassed by us at this point.

In the meantime, I left the pool to go feed the baby, but I didn't understand their system. They charge by the hour and you wear an electronic wristband with a built in timer. This wristband is also the electronic key to your locker. I tried to explain to the cashier, in English mind you, that I had to go feed the baby and didn't want the time to count towards my hour, so she took my wrist band and I went on my merry way. Well, somehow something was lost in translation, because when I tried to get back in, she indicated, in broken English, that I had to buy another wristband, which was a problem because my wallet was in my locker. I tried to explain the predicament, but my dear friend Dorota had to come over and intervene. The cashier explained she had given my wrist band to another patron, who Dorota said she saw in the locker room opening my locker with all my belongings. They had to call in a supervisor with a special key to come help me retrieve my stuff. As you can imagine, we caused quite the clog in the line and I could tell everyone was a little miffed.

I was ready to get out of there at this point. So we all got dressed and were bundling up to leave when our friends incredulously pointed out that we were leaving with wet hair. They had blow-dried their hair and their kids hair and had them dressed in SNOW pants, jackets, coats, hoods, gloves, and hats, just to walk out to the car. I had Em in a coat with her hood on and wet hair. The car was like, 100 meters from the door. Really, just right outside. I didn't see the need to dress her in SNOW pants and I did actually try to blow dry her hair, but she hates the blow dryer and protested so I didn't push it. Well, that's not the way the Poles roll. They take dressing their kids for the cold seriously and we got plenty of dirty looks for our apparent disregard of our children. Seriously, if your kid is not dressed like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, you are guilty of child neglect.

Well, believe it or not, our friends weren't sufficiently humiliated by us at the pool, so they invited us later that night to go to a quaint little restaurant famous for its hot chocolate. Our hot drinks had just been served to us when Caroline, sitting on my lap, stuck her hand directly into the hot drink and then spilled it all over the white table cloth. She let out a huge cry. I jumped up yelling in English, "I need cold water! Where's the bathroom! Get me some wipes! She ruined my new sweater!" As you can imagine, we caused quite the scene once again as people in the restaurant stared horrified at what was taking place.

So, we haven't heard from our friends since, but it's only been a few days. Hopefully we'll hang out again, but honestly, I don't know if they want to be seen in public with us anymore. I will say, that I have greater resolve to be a little more accepting, understanding, patient, and kind when I return to the states and am back in my comfort zone. Maybe they'll come visit us in the states with their speedos and snow pants and you guys will all get a kick out of them. But, in all seriousness, it has been quite the learning experience and a good reminder to be accepting of everybody's differences!