In eastern Slovakia we were hosted by a young man who had just moved back home from college. He was living with his mother and father outside the tiny town of Bardejov. When we first met up with him, he took us on a tour of the little wooden churches near the town. These were the few churches we were able to enter.
In the evening we were treated to a wonderful meal by the man's mother. Afterward we retired to the living room to talk. The man's parents did not speak a word of English, but they were very interested in learning about our lives. The father was especially talkative, and kept his son busy translating for us.
After talking for a while in the living room, the father invited us out to the bar down the road. We bundled up in our winter clothes and walked out into the snow. At the bar the father ordered plum brandy: slivovitz. When I told him I liked it, he was overjoyed. He kept ordering more. It was a point of pride for him. Eventually we had to leave his father at the bar, so we could go back to the house to sleep. The walk back was warm and toasty from the alcohol.
The next morning we were greeted with another wonderful meal from the man's mother. We had to leave shortly after breakfast, but she made sure to supply us with food for the day. She sent us off with sandwiches and a huge jar of homemade pickles.
There really is nothing that compares with the hospitality we experienced in eastern Europe.
