Never Ask for Seconds

So, I was in Sokolov for a weekend just to say goodbye to people. And, just as most every time I visit after a long time, it was more like a progressive dinner. You would think I would have learned my lesson after 2 years, but apparently I hadn’t.

I started out in Cheb with a huge brunch at Jessica’s place before heading to Sokolov later that afternoon to meet my former student Misa. At Misa’s, we sat outside in her beautifully manicured garden and helped ourselves to fresh strawberry cake that her mom had made from their own strawberry patch. It was a much welcomed snack, so I left not full, but satisfied.

Then, I headed to the Simetovi, where Jara had suddenly transformed into Mr. Mom while Jana spent the month in Sardinia as a tour guide. Struck with natural maternal instinct, he pressed food upon me like any good Czech “hostess” until I finally consented. In between changing diapers and building block houses, he cut up fresh veggies and bread for me to have as a dinner snack, followed by 2 pieces of cherry cake that his mom had made for them. I left quite full.

I arrived at Lucka’s around 9pm, thinking that I was in the clear and could avoid eating anything else. Wrong. An entire plate of food was waiting prepared for me to eat upon arrival. As usual, the rest of the family had already eaten, so the only thing they had to do was watch me and force me to eat against my will. I had almost finished my plate of fish, French fries and salad when Mrs. Cervinkova returned home. Convinced that I hadn’t eaten enough, she slopped an entire fried chicken breast on my plate and insisted that I eat it or it would have to be eaten by the dog, who sat at my feet begging me to give in to the threat.

Lucka and I headed out for a while to have a drink and returned home around midnight, where I was forced into a midnight snack of poppy seed cake that her dad had prepared especially for me. I managed to choke down one (it was incredibly delicious, though) and then excused myself to bed. I ended up spending the night there so that I could avoid going all the way back to Cheb and then going back first thing in the morning for church.

In the morning, Lucka had already left for work by the time that I woke up, extremely bloated and still bursting at the seams. Walking a bit groggily as I tried to adjust to my new balance, I stumbled through the door to the kitchen, where Mrs. Cervinkova and Darina (Lucka’s sister) looked up cheerfully and eagerly chimed in unison, “Good morning!” as if they had been practicing the English phrase all morning. As I got ready in the bathroom, I could hear the inevitable shuffle of preparation in the other room. I’ve never thought of intentionally vomiting, but I was seriously contemplating it.

I emerged to find a plate of 2 sausages, 4 pieces of toast, 6 pieces of neglected poppy seed cake, a boiled egg, and all the trimmings (ketchup, mustard, butter, and jam).

“What want you to drink?”
“Oh, just water is perfect.”
“Coffee?”
“No, thanks”
“Tea?”
“No, really. I just want some water.”
“So, tea then.”

I nibbled at everything as much as I could and choked down my tea until I thought I couldn’t fit anything else in my stomach. Fairly disappointed by my performance, they tried to force more on my plate, but luckily I was saved by the excuse that I had to hurry off to church. Hallelujah!

So, take this advice… and never ask for seconds in the Czech Republic.