Thank You Very Much. I Am Very Pleased and Honored to Be with You Today
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Thank you very much. I am very pleased and honored to be with you today. I would also like to extend my warm welcome to Vilnius. It is indeed a charming and special city. How do I recommend you might enjoy the city? Wander the narrow streets of the Old Town and if you see a courtyard, explore it- You might be surprised how far it goes and you never know what you may see! Vilnius has about 100 churches and are worth a visit. Many have been lovingly and beautifully restored. My husband has been with the State Department as a diplomat for over 30 years. Both born in New England, our upbringing in Massachusetts and Connecticut was far removed from the wandering life. Both us moved locally when we were 3 and then except to live at college, did not leave that house until we were married at the tender age of 21. In fact, I knew so little of the life that when John told me at age 19 when we first met, that he wanted to become a Foreign Service officer, I asked, “What’s that??” But after completing a Master’s in International Relations and the numerous tests and screenings of the State Department, he did indeed become a Foreign Service officer. Our first assignment was in Mexico City- a small city at the time that had only about 15 million people and it seemed about that many cars! We actually drove to the city from Washington D.C over a week’s time. John had never been out of the country and I had only ventured to Canada. So you can imagine our excitement was coupled with confusion and downright fear at times. Is that really a truck trying to pass us on a curve on this mountain? Why is an oncoming car flashing his lights at us? We learned over time that the Mexicans drivers have an elaborate system of signals that did indeed allow for passing on curves or getting back into the traveling lane. Even though we began to understand mountainous driving, nothing prepared us for the ring around the City. Just picture drag racing and lots of horns and you get the picture! I can still bring up my feelings of profound relief when we parked the car next to the Embassy! Speaking of cars, we learned a cultural lesson a few days later, thanks to a stranger. At the time we had a VW Rabbit which had the name on the rear end of the car. A note- in English- was left on the car one day advising us to remove the name plate as rabbit in Spanish was considered a foul word. It was a very thoughtful gesture of that stranger to guide us in being culturally sensitive! When I think of Mexico, though, the biggest adjustment was the differences in how time is viewed. I will refer to this concept again and again as it is seen in other countries. Before coming to Mexico, I always thought that the philosophy of manana was exaggerated. Well, let me tell you now that it isn’t! Time is seen as a completely different concept than many (most!) of us see it. It doesn’t matter if you are discussing when a repair job would be done or even when you are hospitalized and asking a nurse for an extra blanket. Guests would often arrive hours after the designated time. Let’s just say the time is fluid and something not to worry about with any preciseness. Over time, one did learn to be more relaxed about time but sometimes it just was too difficult not to be wanting a bit of preciseness. Such as the time soon after we had a baby. Our hot water was fueled by gas tanks on the roof of the apartment building. When we switched from one tank to another, I would call and a new replacement would arrive before we totally ran out of gas. Well, on this occasion, someone had tampered with our tanks and it was not full so we ran out of gas much faster than we normally would. I called the gas company and stated the problem. When the woman taking the call did not appear to see the urgency of the problem, I stated” but this is an emergency as I have a new baby! What did she reply? Senora, there is no such thing as an emergency! Can you imagine something like that happening in let’s say, Germany?? I just mentioned that we had a baby in Mexico. A defining element of a culture is its views towards childbirth. An obstetrician was recommended to me who had had some training in the U.S. He was patient and understanding of all my questions and agreed to my big request. I had learned it was customary for the baby to be whisked away right away after the birth. Being a nurse, I knew the importance of bonding with the baby in the first hour. It was agreed that John and I could hold the baby in the Delivery Room. We had a glorious 10 or 15 minutes with Jenny before she was taken to the nursery because “she was getting cold”. One thing would have kept her longer in the Delivery Room but we decided against it. I t is customary for all girls to immediately have their ears pierced. (As an aside, our not doing this often led strangers to assume Jenny was a boy since she did not have pierced ears!) When we got to the room, we asked to see the baby but were told manana. Well, to keep this short, it was almost 16 hours before I was able to see the baby which was just torture! Another cultural experience was the Mexican’s belief in the existence of spirits in the hallways. Jenny would always arrive in the room with the crib completely covered to protect her from these spirits. The next year passed quickly as new parents while still trying to absorb as much of the culture as possible. Thanks to our Mexican neighbors, Jenny learned to wave bye bye much more readily to saying “adios” to her rather than “bye-bye”. We survived many minor earthquakes and got somewhat proficient in bargaining. After spending the next 4 years in DC and having our second child, Michelle, we set off in the mid-80’s for our next adventure in communist Poland. Once again we had some adjustments to face. We had been advised that our house was most likely bugged and that the police would enter our house at regular intervals when we were away. Since I had an erratic schedule, I was always afraid that I would enter the house when they were there, but it never happened. I suspect there was a look-out person to prevent that from happening. But they did leave us clues to let us know that they had been there, whether it be leaving a balcony door open or leaving an earring in the bathtub. They obviously were watching the house as invariably when I came into the house with my toddler, carriage, bundles, the phone would be ringing, only for the person to hang up when I answered. No personal mail or anything related to our finances was left in the home to maintain as much privacy as possible. Sensitive conversations were done on outside walks. It was not uncommon when talking to someone if you wanted to say something that could possibly be misconstrued, then you would automatically lower your voice to a whisper and then return to normal when you were done with that thought. No one thought a thing of doing that! Life was difficult for the Poles. Meat stores would usually be completely empty except for maybe one string of sausages, except on delivery day when the line would extend around the block. Lines would even form when news was learned about a new book being published. Coffee, chocolates and aspirin were rationed among other items. Fruit in the winter compromised mainly of apples which became mushier as the winter progressed. Vegetables consisted of root vegetables except for the almighty cabbage, that is! I will never forget a dinner right after a shopping trip to Berlin. The beautiful roast beef was practically ignored and guests eagerly went for the salad- lettuce was a very special treat! We were lucky to have a small store, called a commissary, in the Embassy where items were shipped in from the US or Germany. Fruits and vegetables were brought in from the US Army commissary in Berlin every two weeks. But because of the limited amount, we were subjected to rations. How do you explain to a 1 ½ year old who wants a banana like she had for breakfast the three days before that there just weren’t any more and we had to wait 1 ½ weeks for more? One time in the summer, the commissary received the special treat of tangerines but even families were only allowed one tangerine. But I proudly came home with two for my family as someone who was leaving the next day for the States allowed me to use their ration! As diplomats, our travel by car within Poland was restricted. To leave the city limits, we had to ask in writing for permission, including our route, information on the car, who would be in the car, etc three days before the trip. A spontaneous Sunday drive on a beautiful day was just not possible! One week-end near the end of our 3 years, we went to the coast to Gdansk, the home of Lech Walesa and Solidarity.