Vive la difference

Yesterday I had lunch with my classmate Jian from China and her Lithuanian husband, Laurynas, the urban planner. Laurynas remarked that living here must feel very different than living in the States, and he asked me what the biggest differences were. I had a hard time answering because it doesn’t really feel all that different, and also because it’s hard for me to think quickly under pressure on an empty stomach.

He was surprised when I said some things made more sense, like parking garages that tell you how many spaces are available in each aisle and malls organized by store type. Not that way in America? No, we like to keep it challenging.

After lunch I had a chance to think more about the differences I’ve encountered over the last three weeks, some of which have required some small paradigm shifts. Some are for the better, a couple inconvenient and some just different. In no particular order:

Seating yourself at restaurants.
We did a lot of waiting around at the doors of restaurants and cafes here until we realized that it’s almost always a seat-yourself affair. If a table is reserved, it will have a sign on it. Otherwise, anything is fair game unless you’re at the fanciest of restaurants. I find it’s nice to be able to choose where to sit.

No one uses napkins.
Okay, maybe that’s a bit of an overstatement, but people generally don’t put napkins on their laps or reach for them unless they get really messy. Some restaurants don’t bring even bring them with the meal or have them on the table. Utensils come in these nifty little fabric pockets (no, they don’t double as napkins) or in baskets. I think you’re expected to be neat or something, which is a real challenge for me. Those who have eaten with me know that it’s rare that I come away without a deposit on the top shelf. Which actually has very little to do with napkin use, come to think of it.

No decaf coffee.
I’m not a big coffee drinker anymore since I quit caffeine years ago to get rid of my heart palpitations. I may have an occasional small cup in the morning. In the evening, though, if I’m with a group that’s all having coffee, I might order a decaf. Since I can’t, and I want to sleep at night, I stick to water.

Little to no diet or low-fat food.
The lowest fat milk available at the grocery is 2.5% and there are cases and cases of ice cream. Despite eating full-fat versions of dairy products and their love of bacon, sour cream and potatoes, most Lithuanians, especially the young people, are thin. I think it has something to do with right-sized portions, food that actually has flavor and makes you feel full on less, and a lot of walking. Hmmmm…

Walking for hours a day.
I like to walk and I was expecting to walk. But the shoes that seemed sooooo comfortable in the store had other ideas and I had to make a major adjustment to my footwear plan. On day one, the cute black Merrills blistered the top of my left foot; on day two, the Dr. Scholl’s sandals gave me a blister across the back of my right heel from which I still have not fully recovered after almost four weeks. I am living in a pair of unlovely Crocs that I almost didn’t pack. I do want to note that while Crocs suffer derision at home, I am seeing them on the feet of European tourists and in the shoe stores at the Akropolis. My most comfortable two days were spent in my hiking shoes on our camping trip.

Escalator ramps rather than stairs.
At the Akropolis, these allow you to take your shopping cart or stroller with you, but it’s a little scary for a naturally clumsy girl to be riding up or down a moving hill. I haven’t fallen yet. Keep your fingers crossed that I don’t. Or if I do, that I don’t take others with me.

Lack of window screens.
This is a pet peeve of mine anywhere I’ve stayed in Europe. Why are screens uniquely American? Everyone has bugs and miscellaneous wind-borne detritus, and no one wants them in the house, so why invite them in if you can prevent it? I’ve wracked my brain and the only possible reason I can think of is that the old buildings across Europe have windows that are so non-standard in size that it’s diseconomic to either manufacture or purchase them. I’m just getting a little bored with the daily game of trap and release I play with the bees.

Not flushing your used toilet paper.
We saw it first at Europos Parkas, then at Niuronys, and now in many places in Kaunas. Signs asking you to dispose of your used toilet paper in the waste bin next to the toilet rather than flushing it. Or just a bin next to the toilet because it’s understood that you know why it’s there. Though not necessary at most newer hotels and facilities, and thankfully not necessary at the dorm, many older facilities have shaky plumbing and it’s evidently crazy expensive to upgrade. I have to confess that I sometimes forget until after I’ve tossed the paper into the bowl, and I feel so guilty when I flush, thinking I might be creating a problem down the line.

Near-ubiquitous wifi.
As I’ve written before, it’s terrific that wifi is available, and free, at the mall and on Laisvės alėja in Kaunas, in many city cafes and restaurants, and at the universities. Except, of course, in my dorm. That’s why I may seem to be spending so much time at the Akropolis. So, those who know me and my general distaste for malls, no, I have not changed. In fact, I haven’t set foot in a store since Alex went home, except for the Maxima for groceries. I may have to break down and do some shoe-shopping, though, as the aforementioned Crocs are weighing heavily on my psyche.

Incredibly good and inexpensive food.
I’m finishing this post at Tetule’s Sriubine. A sriubine is part cafeteria, part restaurant and serves mostly soups, but some other hot dishes, too. My huge bowl of kopustu sriuba (yummy cabbage soup) and kompotas (a juice made from steeping dried fruit in water) was 5 litai, the equivalent of about $2.