Things I learnt when I was off exploring today...

There is a calming moment when you are in a country that doesn’t speak your language. It occurs once you have found your place of stay, follows a successful navigation of a few streets of your new neighbourhood, and occurs almost immediately after the conclusion of that first successful grocery trip. This moment often occurs during sleep deprivation moments before you finally get to put your head on the pillow for that much wanted and long-awaited sleep, with a knowing and a hope, that you will be able to make it here, to figure it out, in this place so far from your port of origin. Another season means another country for the ever so audacious nomad. For this adventurer, my newest place of residence is the historically whimsical city of Kaunas, settled just east of Poland, in the Baltic state of Lithuania.

Kaunas is jagged. The weather dreary in a constant snow in the middle of January and no light to brighten up the city. The sun rises sometime after 8 am, although on observing the morning one takes note that dullness surrounding and the illuminating street lights suggesting a presence other than daylight. The ground is everywhere slippery; every tread threatens a fall. My optimism for going for a run this morning was dampened by a fresh ground of snow and ice. Walking is enough of an adventure for me on that ground and how some women walk on it in heels is beyond me. I know they do it because I have seen it!

Car alarms go off almost constantly both night and day here in the city. The people are with faces hardened from the cold and former oppression. The architecture too, reflective of Soviet and Nazi presences, with celebrations of Lithuania’s independence seeping through. Christmas is still evident, as it is in Poland this time of year, with Christmas trees, lights, and makeshift wooden boxes reminiscent of my times spent in Vienna drinking glu wine. An exploration into the Old Town district is an immediate hit offering all the connections of Lithuanian culture, along with a few extras, comforts, and surprises. A wooden toy shop, art galleries, traditional crafts and clothing, and a bakery all excite the euphoria, imagination and senses.

A decision to visit the bakery, followed by a short assessment of how the system worked, I gathered up a muffin, made myself a bizarre coffee because that’s what was on special, managed some sensical Lithuanian with the girl at the counter, and I found myself seated next to the window. A girl I recognised as one of the shop workers approached.
“Deustch?” she asked. My reply automatic - “Nein,… I mean no.”
“I can tell you are not from here,” she countered back.
“Oh?”
“Yes. You are too colourful! And you smile too much!”
“Oh.”
“It is a good thing!” she assured me, our discussion forming the observations of the majority of Lithuanian's donning greys and blacks and setting their face in stone. The girl then left me with my coffee, to watch the snow, and ponder my presence there.