Thanksgiving and Harvest

I spent this Thanksgiving Day with my sister and her family – her husband, children, grandchildren, and their spouses, four great-grandchildren, and a granddaughter’s boyfriend. There were 18 of us in all and a few others missing, a grandson in the military and a granddaughter, who with her husband and four boys we would not see until the week after Christmas. Everyone not only contributed to the meal but also to the noisy, joyful interaction. It was a change from the last several years and a lovely day that included some treasured memories.

Our first Thanksgiving in Slovakia

I thought back 25 years years to our first Thanksgiving in Slovakia, November 27, 1997. By that time we had been there for three months. A couple of weeks before our American holiday arrived, Joe Ann and I talked about how we might use that day as an introduction of ourselves to our neighbors. While we were able to interact with those at the church who spoke English and with others through interpreters, when we were on our own in the apartment building we had no way to communicate with our neighbors. We didn’t know what they knew, if anything, about our reason for being in Slovakia. We were simply two American women living on the 3rd floor.

Since we had not met the families in the other 15 flats, we decided to write them a letter. We found some printable Thanksgiving stationery on the internet. Wrote our letter and had Daniela translate it for us. In the letter, we introduced ourselves and told them about Thanksgiving Day in America. We said we were thankful to be in their country and appreciated living in the same building with them. We told them we were grateful for their kindness and patience with us and our limited ability to interact with them. We also said that to show our gratitude we wanted to give them a gift.

Among the things we brought with us from the States was a box of Joe Ann’s cassette tapes. When the letters were ready and signed, we put them in an envelope along with a cassette. On Thanksgiving Day evening we knocked on the door of each of the other 15 apartments at 25 Bernolakova Street and gave them our Thanksgiving letter and tape.

Meeting a Slovak neighbor

Although we lived in our flat for over eight years, we didn’t get to know many of our neighbors. However, one afternoon we were surprised in the elevator by a woman who inititated a conversation.

“Hello. How are you?” the woman said in English.

Taking the question literally, Joe Ann replied, “I haven’t been feeling well.”

“Then, you must come see me,” said the woman.

“Are you a doctor?”

“Yes, I am Iveta Nedelova. I live on the eighth floor. My office is at end of this street.”

“Your English is good,” Joe Ann commented.

“Thank you. It is not as good as I want it to be,” Dr. Nedelova responded.

“Then, you must come to see us. We will talk together and you can improve your English.”

The beginning of a relationship

Besides spending time in conversational English together, Iveta became our doctor, gave us our flu shots each year, and helped me when I had knee surgery in Slovakia. Her son, when he was in high school, helped us with a camp for children from addicted families. She has been with us twice in Michigan, once alone and again before the pandenic with her husband and son. She serves on the board of the Slovak nonprofit we were part of forming in 2006.

But that is only a part of Iveta Nedelova’s place in our lives. It began in 1997 and continues to this day. We meet weekly on Skype. When my memoir is complete and our story is told, you will find her in several places. She is one of the cherished Slovak friends I am thankful for today.