Sometimes waking up is hard to do.
It is street music day, but we are headed out of the city for a BBQ in the country and some much needed recovery time. Linas has invited me to come to his friends house in the countryside. All of the people going are connected (either through spouse or friend) to the group of people he was in college with. They are all in media in one shape or form today.
We meet up at the SMC, it is halfway between our two places and is pretty much the only landmark i can get to with any reliability at this point.
Linas takes me to get food and drinks to take with us to the cookout, we are going to "Maxima" (read Lithuanian Walmart) and there two of his friends will meet us and give us a ride with them.
Food Shopping
This is the first real attempt i have made to buy food that isn't already prepared here. I follow Linas like a lost puppy watching everything he is picking up and asking questions about what everything is. I figure if i can learn brands (like the advanced consumer American I am) i can pretty much keep myself fed for a while.
We each get food enough for ourselves, and once we get there the food will all be pooled and everyone can share. I add a jar of pickles to my basket, it functions as my personal next-morning-recovery aid...I highly recommend (although it is most effective if you can not only eat the pickles themselves, but also chug down the pickling brine they are floating in, yum).
Now it is time for beer, and i could really use a bit of the hair of the dog at this point. The selection is broad, and, while it doesn't hold a candle to the micro-brew obsessed stores in Denver, it is more than enough to keep me questioning Linas about beer for quite some time. At this point his friends come walking up with their own purchases. We select some light beer suitable for a BBQ, and i add some single cans to try, and we are off to the check-out.
This is when i learn that bags have to be added to your purchase here, and you have to tell them before you are done checking out. And pantomime will only get you so far. Lucky for me i have 3 guides to help me through this simple transaction. I feel like a child again. It isn't as much fun as i remember it being...or maybe it is exactly as much fun as it was, and i just remember it wrong.
The Countryside
The house we arrive at is set back in the woods, along with several others. It is like a little subdivision of modern duplexes...each build out of the the identical wood, and the identical floor plan. What is it about people that even when we build houses "to get away from it all" we still cluster together, and match.
The little subdivision in the woods is very nice. And the people are even nicer. We are greeted at the gate by the family who is our host. The husband and wife, and their two little daughters. Maria, the older of the two girls, is obviously in change of everything...including the adults.
Eating...Everything
The food is delicious and plentiful. I am not sure of the rules for this type of thing here so i wait, and take my cue from Linas. He takes his time, talkignt o everyone, introducing me around. I am starving. After what seemed like an eternity, Linas finally picks up a plate and starts on the buffet table, there are chips, dips, and many little snacks to eat while the meats are being cooked. Our pile of food is added to the queue while the chicken and pork that was already there is cooking.
I dive into the food like I hadn't eaten in days. Everything is delicious. The baby back ribs i brought out of a sense of truth and beauty turn out very well. I eat everything.
Se Habla Español
The family whose house we are at had just got back from nine months in Spain. The dad is a wind surfing instructor, and the wind was excellent on the Spanish coast. They all speak perfect English, and I am once again struggling to pick out a few words in Lithuanian and respond in kind. But as i try to absorb this new language more and more, an old one keeps intruding on my mind. All of the Spanish I thought I'd failed to learn comes rushing back at me.
The entire family, however, has just added Spanish (a little) to their list of languages, and the oldest daughter has decided her Spanish name (since there was some confusion on how to translate "Maria", an already Spanish name) is "Mariposa"—butterfly.
I seize onto this as a common language of communication. For the rest of the day I speak to her only in Spanish. It makes me feel a little better about not speaking Lithuanian. We have a linguistic bond.
The Woods
After eating, and being deluged with a child's Spanish demands for attention. Linas, our host, and I go for a walk in the woods around the house. On one side there is a very old-growth forest, on the other, one that was planted 30 years ago. The man-mad growth is in perfect lines—there is something very unsettling about a neatly organized forest. There have been many changes in forest policy. Once it was considered good to clear brush away, keeping the forest clear of decomposing matter. Now it has become the rule to leave as much as possible to replenish the nutrients in the forest's earth.
As we come to the edge of the trees there is an open filed. Most of Lithuanaia is countryside, but not all of that is in use for farming. Much of it would be perfect soil for planting, but these days there just aren't enough people farming.
At the edge of the fields there are neat little piles of stones. These are collected by hand to keep the plows and other farm equipment from being damaged by them. The guys with me tell me they used to go as school kids to participate in this for the local farms, walking from one end of the filed to the other, keeping an eye out for stones and collecting them.
The rest of the day goes by quickly, and as the kids get more and more cranky, the adults start to filter out. Soon it is our turn to leave as well. I'm glad I woke up for that.
It is street music day, but we are headed out of the city for a BBQ in the country and some much needed recovery time. Linas has invited me to come to his friends house in the countryside. All of the people going are connected (either through spouse or friend) to the group of people he was in college with. They are all in media in one shape or form today.
We meet up at the SMC, it is halfway between our two places and is pretty much the only landmark i can get to with any reliability at this point.
Linas takes me to get food and drinks to take with us to the cookout, we are going to "Maxima" (read Lithuanian Walmart) and there two of his friends will meet us and give us a ride with them.
 |
| Maxima |
This is the first real attempt i have made to buy food that isn't already prepared here. I follow Linas like a lost puppy watching everything he is picking up and asking questions about what everything is. I figure if i can learn brands (like the advanced consumer American I am) i can pretty much keep myself fed for a while.
We each get food enough for ourselves, and once we get there the food will all be pooled and everyone can share. I add a jar of pickles to my basket, it functions as my personal next-morning-recovery aid...I highly recommend (although it is most effective if you can not only eat the pickles themselves, but also chug down the pickling brine they are floating in, yum).
Now it is time for beer, and i could really use a bit of the hair of the dog at this point. The selection is broad, and, while it doesn't hold a candle to the micro-brew obsessed stores in Denver, it is more than enough to keep me questioning Linas about beer for quite some time. At this point his friends come walking up with their own purchases. We select some light beer suitable for a BBQ, and i add some single cans to try, and we are off to the check-out.
This is when i learn that bags have to be added to your purchase here, and you have to tell them before you are done checking out. And pantomime will only get you so far. Lucky for me i have 3 guides to help me through this simple transaction. I feel like a child again. It isn't as much fun as i remember it being...or maybe it is exactly as much fun as it was, and i just remember it wrong.
The Countryside
The house we arrive at is set back in the woods, along with several others. It is like a little subdivision of modern duplexes...each build out of the the identical wood, and the identical floor plan. What is it about people that even when we build houses "to get away from it all" we still cluster together, and match.
The little subdivision in the woods is very nice. And the people are even nicer. We are greeted at the gate by the family who is our host. The husband and wife, and their two little daughters. Maria, the older of the two girls, is obviously in change of everything...including the adults.
Eating...Everything
The food is delicious and plentiful. I am not sure of the rules for this type of thing here so i wait, and take my cue from Linas. He takes his time, talkignt o everyone, introducing me around. I am starving. After what seemed like an eternity, Linas finally picks up a plate and starts on the buffet table, there are chips, dips, and many little snacks to eat while the meats are being cooked. Our pile of food is added to the queue while the chicken and pork that was already there is cooking.
I dive into the food like I hadn't eaten in days. Everything is delicious. The baby back ribs i brought out of a sense of truth and beauty turn out very well. I eat everything.
Se Habla Español
The family whose house we are at had just got back from nine months in Spain. The dad is a wind surfing instructor, and the wind was excellent on the Spanish coast. They all speak perfect English, and I am once again struggling to pick out a few words in Lithuanian and respond in kind. But as i try to absorb this new language more and more, an old one keeps intruding on my mind. All of the Spanish I thought I'd failed to learn comes rushing back at me.
The entire family, however, has just added Spanish (a little) to their list of languages, and the oldest daughter has decided her Spanish name (since there was some confusion on how to translate "Maria", an already Spanish name) is "Mariposa"—butterfly.
I seize onto this as a common language of communication. For the rest of the day I speak to her only in Spanish. It makes me feel a little better about not speaking Lithuanian. We have a linguistic bond.
The Woods
 | |
| Neatly planted trees |
As we come to the edge of the trees there is an open filed. Most of Lithuanaia is countryside, but not all of that is in use for farming. Much of it would be perfect soil for planting, but these days there just aren't enough people farming.
At the edge of the fields there are neat little piles of stones. These are collected by hand to keep the plows and other farm equipment from being damaged by them. The guys with me tell me they used to go as school kids to participate in this for the local farms, walking from one end of the filed to the other, keeping an eye out for stones and collecting them.
The rest of the day goes by quickly, and as the kids get more and more cranky, the adults start to filter out. Soon it is our turn to leave as well. I'm glad I woke up for that.
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