I recently reconciled love in a foreign country and many people wanted to know more, so here’s my story.

So this is my first ever post on chambers, I don’t have time to be active on here, but I recently made a comment with a throwaway that people seemed to be very interested in. I’ve wanted to post this story somewhere, not just as a voyeuristic “look at me, I’m a weirdo living in a small town in Eastern Europe”, but because the reconciling of love is something that I believe deeply in, and I’ve seen the direct results of that. I feel I have a unique story that I would like to share about the power of a foreign woman abroad, and I hope you enjoy it. Here we go:<br><br>About a year ago I lived in the Czech Republic for six months teaching English in a small town near the border with Slovakia. I was a full-time English teacher at an elementary school, and a part-time English teacher at a high school. I had a great time, the people were nice, the food was good, the landscape was beautiful, and the beer was cheap. I had a small apartment right in the city center, and I would wake up on weekends sometimes to find a pride of peacocks on my windowsill. <br><br>I had a few friends there, but most of my time I was alone. I enjoyed taking my afternoon walks through the city and the surrounding woods. I enjoyed watching the people, reading their expressions, watching them interact with each other. I took joy in the smallest of things like knowing everyone at the market, taking my morning coffee with the owner of the local café, and being a part of a billiards club on Tuesday nights with a group of Czech guys. Some of these Czech interactions would make me laugh. At the club, when one of them would be kicking my ass, he’d say “you are a poor player. You are a nobody.” <br><br>I’d ask my one Czech friend I was close with, an English teacher at the high school, if everyone in the country was so sarcastic. She replied “Only the men.” Which I found out not to be true. I’d be frustrated with their blunt humor for a second, and then I’d realize that they were just joking. I was a poor player, and everyone knew it, but that didn’t stop them from having a good time with me. <br><br>I learned a lot about Czech culture while I was there. I learned about the peasants and how they were forced to adapt to modernization. I learned about communism and the devastation, the bloodshed, and the repression that it brought. I learned how much the Czech people hated the Russians. They seemed to be the boogeyman, the ones that had ruined their country. I learned about the gypsies and how the Czech people despised them more than most groups of people. They blamed them for all major crimes and social issues in their country. <br><br>But when my mother came to visit, they treated her like a queen. I was very impressed with how they were with her. She is German-American, and a German as you know has never been very well liked in a lot of Eastern European countries. But they treated her with the utmost respect, which I think is very admirable in a culture that nourishes so much hate. But I didn’t see that side of them often, and not usually until I was alone at a bar at night and I would meet someone a bit more drunk than usual. <br><br>I dated people, but nobody seriously, and I admit that I was quite promiscuous. I don’t do it anymore, but I was at this time. I think it was from a recent breakup in America before I had moved to the Czech Republic. I think it was from immaturity. I think it was from the fact that they didn’t speak my language, so I couldn’t really talk to them on a deeper level. So, a lot of times, physical business was all we had. <br><br>But the love I found in the Czech Republic was not in the arms of a man, though I did have many fun nights and many tender kisses. It was in the eyes of my students, my smiling interactions with the market vendors, my dinners with my classmates at the local pub, and my walks through the beautiful Czech forest. <br><br>One day, I was walking through the forest, and I saw a babushka (grandmother) picking berries on the side of the path. She looked at me, and she saw that I was a foreigner with blue eyes. She looked at me with disdain, with the disgust of the Russians, the capitolistic West, and the gypsies. I knew the look, and I had grown to hate it. It’s an empty, cold, and disgusting look. It’s one that says I don’t care about you, and at the same time, I judge you. It’s one that says you’re not welcome here. I learned how to deal with it on the streets, how to just ignore them and keep moving, but this one was different. She was alone, and so was I. I should have just ignored her, but I made a different move, one that changed me forever. <br><br>I walked up to her and I said to her in Czech “Dobrý den, paní. (Good day, ma’am.)” She looked at me with surprise. She didn’t expect a foreigner to talk to her like that. I asked if she had picked enough berries for her family, and she responded that she was picking for her grandchildren. She said it with a smile, and there was something about this interaction that changed that look on her face. It changed from disgust to smiling. It changed from hate to love. <br><br>I had more interactions with this woman over the next few months before I left. I would see her sometimes at the market, sometimes when I was out and about, sometimes when I was walking in the same direction as her. I remember one time we were walking together, and we saw a Czech man in a long coat. I asked her why he was wearing such a long coat, and she replied “He’s drunk.” I laughed, and we both laughed together. A drunk man walking down the street, and we laughed. Life in a small Czech town. But one day, I saw her for the last time. <br><br>It was at the gas station, I was at the pump taking out money, and I saw her inside through the window. I walked in after I was done. I told her that I would be leaving next week, and that I wanted to say good-bye. She was shocked again, but this time there were tears in her eyes, and she hugged me and told me she would miss me. She told me to come back in two years. I told her I would, and we said our good-byes. <br><br>Now, people are often surprised when you say you will miss them, or ask if they have enough berries for their family. They don’t expect it. That’s the thing about the Czech people, at least in my experience. They don’t expect love from foreigners, they don’t expect them to understand their culture, and they don’t expect them to be interested in their lives. But I think that’s where the key is. And I’ve used it every time in my travels. The key to connecting with people in foreign countries, especially in areas that are not as frequented by tourists, is to simply show them love. <br><br>I reconciled that babushka, I reconciled many of my Czech students and friends, and I’m still in contact with some of them now. <br><br>This is not to say that I think I’m some sort of hero, that I am bringing reconciling love to a country that nourishes hate. I’m just a person that sees the beauty in foreign countries, the beauty in people, and I believe that everyone deserves to be loved and appreciated. <br><br>I recently wrote this comment in a post about a woman who scammed a guy in Ukraine. And it inspired a lot of people, so I decided to tell my story. I believe we all have interesting stories about our interactions in foreign countries, interactions where we found nourishment and inspiration, so share them. But the one comment that really stuck with me was this: “Thank you! I have dating apps and I know this is the right way to be. We are all just people. I just wish everyone thought this way.” I agree with this comment, we are all just people. <br><br>I believe everyone should travel, should live in a foreign country, should experience the power of a foreign woman or man in a new land. <br><br>I write this because I’ve learned a lot by living in different parts of the world, and I think nourishing love in every person, even the ones you wouldn’t expect to, is essential. I’m not some saint or someone with a magical gift that has the power to bridge gaps between cultures. I’m just someone that believes in reconciling love. <br><br>And if you read this far, thank you. I hope you enjoyed my story, and that it inspired you to live as a foreigner in a new country at least once in your life.