Chapter 3: At The Dinner Table and Afterward

Entering the dining room, I immediately noticed that each chair had a small folded towel. “To sit on,” whispered Ivanka. The family placed themselves about the table in their seating arrangement, thus showing me where my place at the table would be for the year.

I was to be to Poppa’s left as he sat at the head of the table. Momma sat at the foot, with one of the twins on either side of her. To Poppa’s right sat Ivanka then sat Kivar. There was an empty chair between me and the twins; I supposed this was to keep the symmetry.

Kaleen questioned the American guest as the family finished the traditional prayer of thanks for the food on the table. “You said, Amen, when we prayed,, we do not say that,” Kaleen rattled off. Her father, Ivan, corrected the child with, “Our guest is hungry, let her eat in peace,” and gave the girl a significant look.

“With your permission, Papa Siminov, I feel I can both eat this delicious meal and answer questions. I know what it is like to have curious younger siblings. I would like all of you to know I wish to have no secrets between us as to myself.”

I finished with a twirl of my noodles on a fork and popped the mouthful to chew. Done, I looked at my hostess and said, “I trust you will give me this recipe to take home with me. I would like to spend time at your side learning to prepare it while I am here.”

Ursula Siminova beamed at that. It was the type of response a girl would give to a boyfriend’s parents when the relationship was becoming enough to consider an engagement sign the American truly wished to become a family member. I had chosen my words well. “Now, Kaleen,” I began, after polishing off another mouthful of food from my plate, “I am not of your faith, and if I ask forgiveness. ‘Amen’ is an old Hebrew word, ‘so let it be. It is what my people say when they agree that a person is leading a prayer.”

“Oh.” Kaleen accepted the answer and realized she would be treated as an equal by this new entry into the family circle. Martina shot, “Are those white patches on your skin also a religious thing?”

Momma looked at the girl with the look only a mother can give an errant child and responded, “In my country, we lack the comfort of the Danubian way; and not all of the people are as happy with the way their bodies are.

“So, Martina, when I went to enjoy the sun and the lakeside, I was not as fortunate as you and had to cover those areas up. The sun could not get through the cloth so I was left with these lines on my skin.” Martina suddenly smiled and thought to herself, Momma and Poppa would have to give Kaleen and me time to lie about in the sun. Maybe having this American stranger in our house could work out after all.

Kivar whispered something to his sisters as I took a piece of the dense black bread from a plate in the middle of the table to sop up the vegetable juices left on my plate.

His mother was about to cite him for rudeness, but Ivanka wagged a finger indicating she had the one under control. “Kivar is also curious about things, but, being a boy, he is afraid to ask you directly,” Ivanka offered. “This is the reason for his whispering in my ear.”

I smiled, “If the question needs asking, Kivar, ask it. I have nothing to hide from you or your family, so ask away. Nothing you could say or do would embarrass me. I have brothers and am well over being embarrassed by them.” Kivar looked at his mother for permission, then began,” You have no hair.” with that, he faltered and turned bright red. “So, it is not I who is embarrassed by your question, if that is what that was, is it?”

I laughed lightly. “No, I do not have hair on my body. As in many others, those who compete in sports shave off their body hair since injuries and wounds are easier to treat without it. Also, in my case, the drag of the water on the body is lessened when swimming. Realizing I was good enough to compete at national and international levels in my sport, my parents took me to a doctor who used a special laser to remove all the hair below the neck.

“American women use various haircuts and styles, they even change the color of their hair, but here women do not. So again, with your sisters and mother helping me I will be letting my hair grow out,”

Seeing Ivanka rolling her eyes toward Kivar and then looking back to me, Marcia got the hint offered softly. Kivar brought home girlfriends who would spend the night or the weekend, but would get a little excited and embarrassed at seeing a new girl in the house.