Story: Say what?

After putting my umpteenth “Hard Rock Café” t-shirt in the charity donation pile, I vowed never to buy another wearable souvenir again. Well, that is, until I went to Slovenia. And Hungary…and Greece…and Russia…. As a language enthusiast, I quickly became obsessed with searching the markets and shops of each foreign country I visited for apparel with a bit more “local flavor.”

Instead of t-shirts featuring the obligatory city name and associated clichéd logo, my mission was to find an item of clothing featuring some words or a phrase in the local language. My collection continues to grow, and each new acquisition doesn’t just occupy space in a drawer; it also brings with it a new story, a new memory, and often opens the door to new conversations and encounters.

Exhibit 1: Slovenia
Jaz Skačem, Hej hej hej!
This is where it all began, and I’m ashamed to admit that I still have no idea what it says (hopefully nothing offensive, though no angry Slovenians have slapped me yet!) It came from a shop in Postojna, known for its caves and the mysterious “man-fish” creature that dwells within. I handed over a wad of tolars at the cash register, happy to be using up the last of my Slovenian currency before taking the train to Italy. This feeling lasted for a few hours through the journey, until the conductor informed us we had to pay some sort of departure tax to leave the country. Fortunately, my friend was a bit more fiscally responsible than I, and after emptying our pockets and pooling our resources, we came up with just barely enough money to make it! Phew!

Exhibit 2: Hungary
Sziget Fesztival, a major player on the European summer music festival circuit, draws thousands of young people to an island just outside of Budapest for a week of camping and revelry. Vendors abound, catering to the island’s temporary residents (and captive audience.) Next to the official merchandise tent, my eyes were drawn to a black t-shirt in the midst of others (primarily featuring bloody skulls and other pleasant motifs.) The simple block letters caught my eye: MAGYAR VAGYOK, NEM TURISTA. I knew just enough Hungarian to be able to decipher its meaning: “I’m Hungarian, not a tourist.” Ignoring the radical xenophobic message the shirt was meant to convey, I enjoyed wearing my new acquisition around Budapest, reveling in the subversive irony….well, that is, until a scarf-wearing grandmother approached me and launched into a frantic barrage of incomprehensible words, wanting some sort of assistance I was clearly in no position to be able to provide!

Exhibit 3: Greece
Purchased from a ponytailed man hawking these hot-off-the-press items out of a garbage bag on the side of the road near the port of Piraeus, it commemorates Greece’s miraculous underdog victory over Portugal in the 2004 European football championships. The front, as I’m told, refers to the importance of the Greek population’s support in this shared win, saying something along the lines of “We’re not just 11 [players]…we’re 11 million, with you!” The back, under a proud HELLAS (the official country name for Greece,) is another (almost) correctly translated phrase: Nothing is Imposimple.

The game’s end, which came at around 10 PM, erupted in cacophony around the port. It was a truly proud moment for the Athenians, who poured out into the streets en masse, honking their horns, waving Greek flags while simultaneously attempting to drive cars and mopeds, and just cheering with delight in a non-stop parade that continued for several hours.

It was not such a great moment for my travel companion and I; we were two tired, sweaty travelers who just wanted to get a taxi ride back into the center of Athens. (When telling this to a passerby, he just laughed at the absurdity of such a request: “Omonia Square is on fire!”) Nonetheless, it was pretty amazing to be part of such a momentous event – sporting history in the making, as it were, and to share it with the local population. Though we were entertaining ideas of just giving up and finding a cozy alleyway in which to sleep, four hours later, we finally squeezed into a free cab in the midst of the melee. Indeed, nothing is imposimple.

Exhibit 4: Russia
One of the problems with shopping for souvenirs is deciding whether to buy on the spot or keep looking. My wishy-washiness during a trip to Moscow led to a last-minute choice between getting something at the small, disorganized hotel shop or going home empty handed. Fortunately, advertising slogans from the 1980s know no boundaries, so with a basic knowledge of the Cyrillic alphabet and the help of a dictionary, I got as far as a literal translation of “The New Generation Chooses.” A year later, I wore the shirt to school. The quiet girl who sat behind me noticed the not-so-subliminal advertising on my back and asked if I knew what it said. We got to talking, and it turned out that she was Lithuanian but had spent her early years of schooling under Soviet rule (when learning Russian was compulsory.) It was fascinating to hear the experiences of someone my own age who had been a Soviet Pioneer while I was a Brownie! Now, we’re great friends; despite our different backgrounds, we’re still both members of the New Pepsi Generation!

The best part of starting a collection like this is the process of adding to it. By its very nature, this involves all the good things that come along with traveling: engaging in new explorations, interacting with the world’s citizens, and learning all sorts of things along the way. The only downside is that now my charitable donations have started to decrease; I’ll have to start finding alternative clothes to give away!