make yourself at home

It didn’t start that way. We had a rough start. People turned their heads, reluctant and reserved toward someone who didn’t speak their language. I really had to put the work in to bridge that barrier.

But once I found my footing and started to understand this new place, it welcomed me with open arms. One warm, albeit crooked, hello opened so many doors – opened hearts.

I still remember the woman who showed me the traditional weaving technique and even let me try it. Or the woman who asked for a cigarette and was adamant that I take the 2 euros, because she didn’t want to inconvenience me. The whole pack was 3 euros. It was a new pack.

Or the lady whose shop was opposite my building, who invited my friends and me inside because we wanted to pet the cutest little orange cat that was always sleeping on the windowsill there. His name was Chestnut, and he was adorable.

Or my friend bringing the Christmas wafer to the square where the three of us met, to split it in good wishes, as is custom for Lithuanian Kūčios.

I don’t have a place I can pinpoint as home yet, but Vilnius took me in for a time and said to me: Make yourself at home.