We so appreciate your earnest prayers, your sacrificial support, your quick notes and cards, and the blessing of working together for God's name to be exalted here in Montenegro. One with you in Christ,
Stan and Vicki Surbatovich
Vicki's Snapshot: Furlough Memories through the Years
One fun aspect of visiting the States only every so often is that with each trip we notice new products and new lingo, as well as gain a fresh appreciation for “normal” things that we never gave much thought to before living in Montenegro.
On our most recent trip—the one we just took in May—I was (again) pleasantly surprised at the level of respectful help and orderliness we experienced accomplishing our many bureaucratic errands. For example, while the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles) office was busy, everything worked so smoothly (decently and in order!), and the clerk behind the counter actually smiled while helping me to renew my driver’s license. But we found a friendly helpfulness everywhere—at stores, at banks, at restaurants, at the car rental place— and appreciated it so much.
DMV "lines"
Note: Service people/helpers in Montenegro *might* be friendly, but orderliness is a huge challenge. I still remember my disappointment in setting up an appointment for 6pm to see a specialist at the public health clinic in Podgorica only to find out that each of us (40 people) were given the same time. Upon my arrival, I got a number—and found out that my turn would be in approx. 2 hours. Stan and I ended up going to the local movie theater while waiting!
However, every visit back to the US has opened my eyes in ways I didn’t expect.
Our first furlough took place in the summer of 1999 after three years of living in Recovering-From-The-Bosnian-War Montenegro. My immediate, even overwhelming, impression then (and now!) was (and still is!) how incredibly wealthy the United States is. When driving along Century Blvd from LAX to the 405 Fwy (a mere 2.2 miles), we pass more wealth (multitudes more!) — in infrastructure, goods, real estate, intellectual property — than in all of Montenegro. Seriously staggering to contemplate.
The next “whoa, I never noticed” moment happened when I opened up that first carton of eggs to make breakfast. After three years of buying brown eggs, I was shocked at the stark whiteness of eggs—so pale, so naked! Like something was seriously wrong!
Then there was the Mango Craze Furlough. Of course, mangoes were a well-known item in the States before we left, but there was one furlough in which mangoes had obviously become the “in” thing. Everywhere I went, I was confronted with Mango products that had not been on the shelves before:
Mango candles
Mango shampoo
Mango lotion
Mango smoothies
Mango salsa
Mango ice cream
Mango pizza (??!!!)
On another furlough, I was struck by how easy it is to get out of touch with modern American Lingo - those new turns of phrases that have entered American life since our last visit. They *really* stand out because they are not obvious to us and nobody thinks to explain them.
For example, as we were settling into some living spaces that our Faith Community brethren in California had set up for us, the first visitor dropping by excitedly asked us if we had had a “Crispy Cream” yet. We replied “no” and were told we’d have to remedy the situation ASAP.
We thought nothing more about it but then the next two visitors asked us the same thing. When we asked what a Crispy Cream was, their eyes lit up, smiles spread across their faces, and they said “You’ll see!” and left it at that.
We did manage to learn that “Crispy Creams” had just recently become available—and were so popular that on opening day the drive-through line stretched for miles. Now we were intrigued—what could this thing be that inspired such devotion?
When our fourth visitor popped over that evening and started with a “Hey, have you had….” we were able to finish the sentence. We explained to him that not only had we not had one, but we had no idea what a “Crispy Cream” could even be because “crispy” and “cream” don’t generally go together. This sweet saint didn’t clue us in either but promised to bring us some in the morning.
Next day, as the clock approached 8am, the whole family gathered in the kitchen, eagerly awaiting the arrival of our friend and Crispy Creams, whatever they might be. Knock, knock, knock. With a bit of flourish and fanfare, our delivery friend entered and plopped a big box on the table.
After all the build up, we were shocked to discover that “Crispy Creams” were just…. donuts! And neither Crispy nor Creamy. I also learned, thankfully before I embarrassed myself, the proper spelling of said donut: Krispy Kreme. :-) I have to admit, those sweet (SWEET) donuts were not our favorites, but it was certainly satisfying to be in the know.
On that same furlough, I heard the phrase “twenty-four-seven” dropped into several conversations and couldn’t quite work out what was meant. There’s a chain of mini-markets in the US called “7-Eleven” and I thought it might be an expanded version of that. But despite keeping my eye out for such a store (especially after hearing about Krispy Kremes), I never saw one and never managed to glean from conversations what anyone actually bought there.
I finally asked a dear friend to fill me in on “twenty-four-seven.” After she (kindly) stifled her amusement at my ignorance, she explained that it was shorthand for “Twenty-four hours, Seven days a week”, ie. “all the time.” It seems like that should have been obvious, but when we left the US, lo those many years ago, few things were open/on/happening “24/7,” so it didn’t occur to me to even think in that direction. Rather humbling to be an ASL (American Slang Learner) for one’s native tongue!
