Anti DEI and the Couple Czech

 

                                              Charles Bridge Prague Czech

My flat in Geneva was in walking distance of the airport, UN, their alphabet organizations, consulates and NGOs.

No surprise that the combined residents made up their own UN of nationalities. During my 11 years of living there, my floor alone with its seven units had:

• Russians
• Syrians
• Indians
• English
• Italians
• Czech  

I made sure that I met each new family when they came for their multi-year assignments. Some are still friends two plus decades later.

One of my favorites were the couple Czech. From casual conversations we became friends. I'd come home for lunch to find a loaf of bread hanging from my door knob. It had been baked in a Prague bakery that morning and flown to the consulate in a diplomatic pouch. 

We shared meals and other goodies. I'd baked peanut butter cookies, which they loved, for them.

It wasn't just food that we shared. I had a daughter studying in Germany. They had a daughter that had defected to Germany, which cost them years of problems until after the government was no longer Communist. Now the man worked for the new government.

I offered them a chance to use my studio in the South of France. "Do you think, my son and daughter could go to?" she asked.

"It's really small, but if you don't mind crowding?" I said.

I knew when they'd returned. My Japanese Chin Mika adored the man. He would never pass their door without stopping. Of course, he would be hand fed meat sitting on their couch or his lap, which might have increased the adoration. 

As soon as Mika stopped at their door, I knocked. "How was it?" I asked when she answered.

She started crying.

"I'm sorry, was it that bad?" I had warned them it would be crowded.

"You don't understand," she said. "When my daughter defected, I thought my family would never again be together. It was the first time and each night we were all sleeping under the same roof."

One weekend I took them to Payerne where the man I was dating lived so they could see a real Swiss town. 

After my pup had surgery and I didn't want to leave him while I did errands, the man dog-sat to keep Mika company. When I returned I found the man sitting on the floor next to Mika's bed with Mika's tiny paw being held in the man's large hand.

Making friends with people on 2-6 year assignments means they move and the man was due to retire. They invited me to visit Prague after they resettled. I arrived with peanut butter cookies and a key chain with Mika's photo.

I saw Prague as few tourists do starting with the type of flat that had been built under the Communists, where the uprising had been held, the bakery where my gift bread had come from, the stores where she shopped. And they didn't neglect the tourists sites such as the Charles Bridge (photo above).

We had a pastry and coffee in a tea room. The waiter gave us better service than he did the couple next to us, which my friends identified as Russian. The waiter would only speak English to that couple who didn't speak Czech. My friends verified with the waiter that the couple was indeed Russian. The waiter also said he spoke fluent Russian, a language that had been required when he was in school, but he wouldn't after the years of Russian control of his county.

We stayed in touch for several years with sometimes phone calls and emails until they were no longer valid. Their son's company email no longer worked and their daughter, who periodically sent postcards stopped. I'd moved, she'd moved. 

It is usual for loss of contact with what I see as temporary but no less valid friendships in a transient living situation. What is unusual is to maintain contact and I'm grateful for my Syrian and Indian friends that I still maintain, but that would be another blog.

I feel sad when I think of America's current anti DEI push where everyone is to be the same and not mix with others of different races and nationalities. How much poorer my spirit and knowledge would be had I not had all those neighbors and share bits of their lives as I shared mine with them. When I see news from their countries, I don't just see and hear it. In remembering it, I taste it, smell it, feel it and I have a greater understanding of their part of humanity.