European Favorites

The guitar-playing vendor who finishes his day of work and heads straight to the makeshift church under an overpass of a 13th century wall in Zagreb to say a prayer. The taxi man in Krakow who late at night sits reading in his taxi, waiting for customers. Nuns. The AVIS guy who, when I say I've just had 5 mentos and my breath is fresh, responds, "mine isn't!" The little boy in Zagreb who carefully waves his country's flag to celebrate the Croatian heroes. The members of NEH. The produce lady at the supermarket in Berlin who frustratingly slaps stickers onto my produce, muttering at my incompetince. Newly weds in Leipzig and Ljubljana. The local in San Gimignano who leans out his window in a wife-beater tank top to watch the Marriage of Figaro playing in the small town square below. The hippy artist in Zagreb who sells her wares of quotes on fabric. The moonlight swim with Louise, her man, Hilde, and Zack. The overly-eager young TI guy at Ljubljana who answers our questions with German efficiency and Italian friendliness. The sweet old lady selling cherries at a produce market in Potsdam, who saves me from buying the sour ones. The non-English speaking Italian who pulls over to our gas station late at night for no reason other than to make sure that we--foreigners with no Italian and little understanding of European cars--are ok. The fat man in Budapest sporting a speedo at the Hungarian baths like he owns the place. The waiter in Copenhagen who convinces us we don't want a flapjack. The portly old man in Siena who explains the Palio to me as we watch beach volleyball at midnight. The two German guys laughing with me as the train stops outside of Leipzig late at night and the lights turn off for 10 minutes. The bus driver in Budapest who honks the horn at me after I get off to kindly point out the direction where I am supposed to go. The man with his little daughter on his shoulders looking out at the city from a Medieval castle in Nurmburg. The old lady riding a bike in Ljubljana. The Franciscan monk on the RyanAir flight to Krakow. The Sausage man in Eisenach who poses for a photo with mini-Bach. The lady in Kaborid, the man in Trieste, and the lady in Ljubljana who all take time out of their lives to share their stories. Elderly couples holding hands all over Europe. Though it will be nice to come home, I will deeply miss these snapshots of expatriate life that fill my day with amusement, awe, and appreciation for Europe, my home away from home.