Drinking With Slovaks (Part II)

Click Here for Part I

It turns out that “coffee” is pretty much the only English word Peter knows, though within a few minutes of him setting the water on boil, we’ve established that “sugar” means cukor (tsuu-kohr) and “milk” means mlieko (mm-lee-koh), and that instant coffee is the only thing Peter’s got in his cabinet, which is a little bit tragický (trah-gits-kee).

Oh, and also that the word vodka is pretty universal.

Over the next twenty minutes, Peter offers me three shots (all of which I refuse), forces a roll of rye bread into my hand (which I am not allowed to leave untouched), and sets out a plate of somewhat melty chocolate biscuits (which turn out to be tasty enough). For a man that rather resembles a mountain troll on first meeting, he’s quite hospitable, and after my early journey from Trenčin with no breakfast, I quite appreciate the food.

Still, I’d rather he didn’t keep trying to get me to take shots of vodka.

Finally, the Reception guy arrives, with the keys for the two rooms that I’ll be sharing with my co-teacher–knocking on Peter’s door just as he steps outside to smoke.

Once again, I try to bid Peter a goodbye, but he insists on carrying my bag to my room for me. I thank him, smile, wave, and finally, Peter shakes my hand to say goodbye–before pulling me into a hug that is just a bit too friendly.

“Okay. Cool. Great to meet you too.”

I have to usher him to the door. He waves goodbye, and blows a kiss before trundling away back to his room.

Long, two-part story short, I’ve just been hugged by a huge sweaty Slovak man, and I’m not sure how to feel about it.

Anyway. I guess this is Holič. I can only hope the rest of the week remains just as… interesting.

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