I found this insightful entry on the blog of Rosemary Bailey Brown, an American woman married to a Serb. I thought that I would share it here, as it describes one of the many -- and unexpected -- ways in which American and Serbian cultures differ. Enjoy!
The Dubious Pleasures of a Dirty Table
This is one of those little things that can make you nuts in a cross-cultural marriage. Monday was a national holiday here, so my husband grilled up some lamb and I made a vat of soup as well as roasted potatoes and asparagus. A couple of Serb family members came over to feast starting at about 1pm.By 2:30pm, we were utterly and completely done eating... for the next decade.
When Serbs are done eating, that doesn't mean it's time to get up from the table. Oh no, they're just getting comfortable! They settle in and start talking, talking, talking. It gets dark outside. They are still talking. It's been so long that you actually start to feel hungry again. They are still talking. You begin to consider going to bed... but the Serbs aren't done talking yet.It's OK, I'm used to this by now. I can cope.
What I can't cope with is sitting in front of dirty dishes the whole time. Acck! In America, as soon as you're done eating, you clear the table. Everyone can still sit there, toying with coffee or whatever, but the dirty plates, silverware, platters, etc., are wisked away to the kitchen where they are scraped, washed, dried and quickly put away. Only then can you relax and enjoy the rest of the evening with your guests, sitting around a nice clean table.
Unfortunately for me, Serbs hate it when you take away their dirty dishes. "Leave them! Leave them!" they cry. At first I thought they were trying to be polite, telling me not to work in the kitchen while they were relaxing. I tried to explain, I can't enjoy sitting at a table with dirty dishes, the sight and especially the smell of the mess is disturbing.Au contraire, my sister in law explained. To the Serbian mind, the sight and smell of loads of dirty dishes in front of you is a enormous pleasure. It reminds you of the wonderful feast you just had, the pleasure in the food, the comfort of good food and lots of it. A feast is to be relished, why clear the evidence way so quickly? What kind of strange people are Americans anyway?
I sit, magnificently controlling my twitching urge to clean, clean, clean, for nearly four hours. I concentrate on the conversation. I will not let this drive me mad. At last around 7pm, I am allowed to take away the old dishes to make room for an ice cream snack. Whew! Feels a bit like I ran a marathon.
Posted by Rosemary Bailey Brown at 3:49 PM
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