Nisam Gladna, Nisam Zima, I Nisam Luda.
These are the three phrases that I am constantly telling everyone here! For those of you who I know just thought "Oh lord, time for google translate" Ill be kind and translate them for you, therefore eliminating the need to open yet another tab on what im sure is your already very full computer.
First and foremost. Nisam Gladna. It means, quite simply, that I am not hungry. Now I try to refrain from using this so as to not cause any offense. I eat my first helping, quite enjoyably. Then I eat the second that I am given, not hungry but willing to eat it because -to be honest- my host grandmother makes killer food! Its by the middle of the third helping that im feeling helpless. I cant eat anymore! I will explode. I might just keel over from the sheer amount that I have somehow managed to inhale! and so, quietly, I say no thank you to the fourth helping. Nisam Gladna.
Next comes Nisam Zima. No, I am not cold. I am asked this usually at school when I go out for a coffee and dont feel the need to take my jacket. As the coffee shop is a whole thirty seconds (soooooo far), I usually make it there and back in five minutes. Five minutes in weather that is still hovering quite nicely around 8 to 10 degrees. Brisk, is the word I would use to describe it. Or even -when it nears 7 or 8- cool. But cold? Not by a very large margin! I make a conscious effort to have my jacket with me in case I get chilly, but putting it on takes me longer than walking to the cafe! So no. I appreciate your concern, and you make me giggle with your earmuffs and scarves. Nisam Zima. Why? Because Ja sam is canada. I am from Canada.
and finally, Nisam Luda. This usually follows Nisam Gladna, or Nisam Zima. Sometimes however, it just follows me being my normal self and goofing around with some of the amazing people that I have met here in good old Hrvatska (Croatia). Or maybe it follows one of the random dance moves I sometimes feel the need to break into (I blame my dad, I get it from him). But almost always it follows a really good laugh. Nisam Luda means no. I am not Crazy.
So here I am. Ja sam Meghan, Ja sam is Canada, Nisam Gladna, Nisam Zima, i ne, Nizam Luda.
I am Meghan, Im from Canada. Im not hungry, Im not cold, and no, Im not crazy!
Have a great day, I know I am!
Meghan
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Friday, October 14, 2011
Embarasment
As an exchange student, Ive seen a new trait in myself that has begun to emerge. The obsesive need to be on time for everything, even breakfast. There is one problem with this trait. Promptness is not a huge thing here in Croatia. Everything is very relaxed, very laid back. This paradox has caused no shortage of humiliating moments on my part.
Take tonight as an Example. Every friday we are involved in the local Rotaract meeting. It is set to happen at 7:00pm.... Exactly 7:00pm. On this particular week, I happened to glance at my clock and notice that the time was 6:50. Like a mad woman, I raced out of the house and took off with the bike (Much to the confusion of my non english speaking host father) peddling far harder than I ever have before.
5 minutes, 7 near tree collisions, and a chilly nose later, I was huffing and puffing my way into the "Kavana Dora", a small cafe where we routinely meet. Now dont think of me as unfit, my 5 minute bike ride from hell would take me 15 minutes on a normal day.
As I walked into the cafe, proud as a lion, I made my way back to the booth Rotaract frequents. It was 6:55, surely some of my fellow Rotaracters would be there? I could not have been more wrong.
Sitting cozily in my booth, or our booth, was a couple in an intimate liplock. I turned red as a tomato, choking on my english apologies, apologies they may not have even understood. I practically tripped over myself in a bid to get out the door and back into the chilly evening air. The waiters thought I was insane.
I waited. And waited. And then I waited a little more. It was almost ten after when the first Rotaractor appeared, happy as can be and whistling a tune. He couldnt quite fathom why I was standing outside in the cold, so I rattled of an excuse about us tough Canadians. Though it was true I wasnt quite as cold as everyone else seemed to be, the real reason I didnt reenter the Dora was that most of its occupants currently thought me a few cards short of a deck.
We stood akwardly outside, while he smoked a cigarette and I tried not to gag (Smoking here is a bigger habit than in Alberta, and I have not quite gotten myself used to the smell.) Soon, more Rotaractors began to apparate, but instead of going inside to the booth (That I would later find out had already been vacatted by the love sick two) they stood outside with us. I guess its just an instinct to join in with what others are up to, but it seemed that I had caused a chain reaction.
It wasnt until the last of us arrived (twenty minutes late!) That someone questioned our motive in standing outside in the cold.
"Well..." One said, "Meghan was out here so I just... kind of stayed out here." For the second time I turned red as a tomato, and for the rest of the night, even after we had entered the heat of the cafe, I had the great honour of being the butt of all the jokes...
Take tonight as an Example. Every friday we are involved in the local Rotaract meeting. It is set to happen at 7:00pm.... Exactly 7:00pm. On this particular week, I happened to glance at my clock and notice that the time was 6:50. Like a mad woman, I raced out of the house and took off with the bike (Much to the confusion of my non english speaking host father) peddling far harder than I ever have before.
5 minutes, 7 near tree collisions, and a chilly nose later, I was huffing and puffing my way into the "Kavana Dora", a small cafe where we routinely meet. Now dont think of me as unfit, my 5 minute bike ride from hell would take me 15 minutes on a normal day.
As I walked into the cafe, proud as a lion, I made my way back to the booth Rotaract frequents. It was 6:55, surely some of my fellow Rotaracters would be there? I could not have been more wrong.
Sitting cozily in my booth, or our booth, was a couple in an intimate liplock. I turned red as a tomato, choking on my english apologies, apologies they may not have even understood. I practically tripped over myself in a bid to get out the door and back into the chilly evening air. The waiters thought I was insane.
I waited. And waited. And then I waited a little more. It was almost ten after when the first Rotaractor appeared, happy as can be and whistling a tune. He couldnt quite fathom why I was standing outside in the cold, so I rattled of an excuse about us tough Canadians. Though it was true I wasnt quite as cold as everyone else seemed to be, the real reason I didnt reenter the Dora was that most of its occupants currently thought me a few cards short of a deck.
We stood akwardly outside, while he smoked a cigarette and I tried not to gag (Smoking here is a bigger habit than in Alberta, and I have not quite gotten myself used to the smell.) Soon, more Rotaractors began to apparate, but instead of going inside to the booth (That I would later find out had already been vacatted by the love sick two) they stood outside with us. I guess its just an instinct to join in with what others are up to, but it seemed that I had caused a chain reaction.
It wasnt until the last of us arrived (twenty minutes late!) That someone questioned our motive in standing outside in the cold.
"Well..." One said, "Meghan was out here so I just... kind of stayed out here." For the second time I turned red as a tomato, and for the rest of the night, even after we had entered the heat of the cafe, I had the great honour of being the butt of all the jokes...
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