International friends; or, That time a Russian lady poured Vodka in my ear

Today's weather in Guantánamo Bay, Cuba: high of 85º and partly cloudy. 

For such a small place with a small population, the vast diversity of people here blows my mind.

Case in point: we went to a party a while back to celebrate the visit of an unaccompanied serviceman's wife. The couple is from Puerto Rico. To celebrate his wife's arrival, he prepared grilled bacon wrapped asparagus (my favorite), steak, and fresh ceviche on a bed of fried plantains.

Yes, here in Gitmo. And it was amazing. To top things off, there were people from South Africa and England celebrating, too. It's like music, hearing so many accents at one time in one place.

And that's how it is at school events or aisles of the grocery store, with people originally from places such as India, Korea, Jamaica, Jordan, Japan, the Philippines, New Zealand, and Australia. What we lack in real life Cubans in Gitmo, we make up for in the assortment of residents on base.

I have gotten to know a few ladies from Russia, as well. One of them is a whirling dervish of energy. She is very animated when she talks, and as a former teacher in her country, very smart (and quite sarcastic at times). What's not to love about that?

Our kids attend school and played soccer together. One day I was watching a game, and suddenly, I hear someone with a very thick Russian accent saying loudly, "YOU! YOU PLAY SOCCER!"

Me: "Um, yeah, well I used to play outdoors, and before I got here, I played in an indoor league, and. . . "

Lady: "THIS IS NOT A QUESTION! YOU PLAY SOCCER! TUESDAY NIGHTS! WE NEED SUBS!"

And this, folks, is how in 30 seconds I went from having every Tuesday and Thursday night free to playing in a rec league that I absolutely loved. That whirling dervish of a lady is very, very convincing.

I have felt out of sorts, to say the least, while dealing with an ear infection in one ear (and completely off balance, to boot). I was bundled up in bed watching Dr. Zhivago yesterday morning, and despite having seen it in its overdrawn, too-long, but lusciously shot glory at least 5 other times, my heart breaks EVERY TIME that (*spoiler alert*) I realize that Yuri and Lara are never going to connect again, and he is never going to find out about his daughter.

I was ruminating on White Russians and Bolsheviks and the fate of the star-crossed lovers when the phone rang. It was my husband.

After a few questions ("How are you feeling? Have you taken your medicine") and asking if our son would like a playdate, I found myself speaking to someone with a Russian accent.

Talk about surreal---I went from watching Dr. Zhivago about Russia to talking to a real-life Russian in just a few minutes time.

My soccer friend had stopped by my husband's work, and upon hearing about my maladies, she took it upon herself to take my youngest off my hands to give me some time to rest. Once and again, I am blown away by people's generosity here, and her offer was flattering and one I ultimately could not resist. Her last words on the phone were, "I am coming by to get him. Get some vodka ready."

Huh? I do have an ear infection, so maybe I'm not hearing correctly.

But no. This is how I came to finding myself an hour later reclining on the couch with someone carefully pouring vodka in my ear. Russians take vodka seriously and look at it much like some Americans view rubbing alcohol (or Windex and duct tape). It's a cure-all. And what could it hurt?

Many, many years ago, I spent a weekend with my great-grandmother's sister Myrtle, my great-great aunt who was a bundle of energy in her own right. I couldn't have been older than 10. I had the beginnings of bronchitis, and she mixed up a concoction in a mason jar, insisted that I drink it, and I was CURED in the morning.

The medicine? Honey, peppermint, lemon, and whisky. To this day I don't like whisky, but if you throw some honey, peppermint, and lemon in it, I could drink it all day (or until I pass out).

I'm not adverse to trying some home remedies and you know what? My ear quit crackling and popping for the rest of the day, and I was able to hear a little better. I woke up stone deaf in that ear again this morning, so I'm going to try it again.

And I may take a shot or two, as well, just to see how that comes out.  It's past 5 o'clock in Russia, so why not?