Hell on skis

We are going skiing this weekend and its back to the in-laws for a place to sleep. Staying with them is somewhat fascinating for newcomers, but I have grown tired of it. It is not their fault at all. They are great people and try to make me feel welcome in any way possible. The fact is that they are Czech villagers. If you are not sure what that means, in essence, watch Vesnicko ma strediskova. It will give you a great idea of what they are like. OK. They aren't exactly like that...but there are significant similarities! If you don't want to go through that effort, then just believe me. They are different. To an onlooker it is a complete comedy, but to live it is not. But as weird as I think they are, they must think the same about me, because they simply don't know anything else. Showering 2X a week is enough for them. A diet consisting of a vegetable list 2 items long (onions and cabbage) is enough for them.

A cook book with a 50 page list of different ways to cook cheap fatty meats with dumplings, and 100 ways to combine ham, butter and bread: now that is a bestselling cookbook!!
I have to get all this bitching out of the way, because I am going to quit. Or at least try. Accepting differences is part of being "cultured", and that doesn't only mean realizing that the French eat snails and the Scandinavians eat whale. It means being comfortable in any setting, whether it be a black tie affair, or the smoky, almost suffocating, party that happens on a weekly basis at the fishermen's club in the village. And cocktail weenies aside, we simply want to have a decent relationship with these people. They are, after all, family.

However, in order to accommodate our nerves (and theirs, even though the battle inside themselves pits their desire for us to be their little kiddies again vs. their natural habits making them gasp at half of the things we say/suggest), we are going skiing to break up the weekend. My wife, Maja, is, shall we say, a "skier in training". She wants to learn and that is fine because I like skiing, and I like to see her active. So we will spend the bulk of the day skiing, and possibly going for supper, and then meet her parents for a trip to the choke-dome (that fishermen's club) for a few pints, and then wake up the next morning and leave. That is if we don't get sucked back into by the black hole that is her mother's guilt!

But we will eventually get out, and hopefully it will end on a positive note with the only unwelcome addition being another crease on my forehead.