You can’t even imagine how happy I am (and how relaxed) sitting in my own garden, on my own bench, under the tree on which I was climbing while being a small one. I realised how much I need my own space after I spent almost three months in someone’s house, changing my bed every few weeks (when someone was going on holiday I had the privilege to use his room instead of sleeping in a common living room, lucky me). I find out that having (even the smallest amount) of your own floor, on which you’re able to do whatever you want, is extremely important for your mental and physical health. So now, when I am back and able to sleep in my own bed, close the door to my own room, I am happy again.

Today I wanted to write about my experience and what I’ve earned about myself, if it goes about multi-culture. I always thought that I am extremely opened person, tolerating every race, sex, origin. When someone was offending other nations, immigrants, I was always fighting for their rights and good name. And then my work came. I started to work in England, London, were are millions of different people from all around the world. And I was fascinated. Happy to find more about their culture, happy that I am not the only one not from this country, happy that no-one is judging each other. I was mistaken. In my work (and I worked at the airport as a hostess in a lounge, serving tea, coffee, collecting plates, cleaning tables and in general serving people and making their wishes come true) I had a pleasure to feel on my skin the real mute-culture. My colleagues were from India, Philippines, Portugal, Arabia, Poland, England, Bosnia and Hercegovina. Customers were also from all over around the world: America, Australia, China, France, Spain, Canada. 

Everyday I was surrounded by people from different edge of the world. I was able to see how they behave and treat me and each other. Sometimes I couldn’t understand them, sometimes I was angry how messy they are (after few weeks someone explained me that in some cultures if you’re doing bigger mess and eat louder than others, slurping for example, that means that it is delicious and they're happy) and sometimes I was swearing in my minds that some people can’t even say „thank you” to you for your hard work. I was seriously shocked how much effort I had to make to stand such people. Even though I knew that this is just culture difference, I couldn't stand how different they are from me! It was really a great test for myself and my tolerance. I still have this feeling that if I stayed there for a few more months I would became racists. I know, that sounds not so great. But that only made me realised how much we don't know about other cultures, and how much we should appreciate that we’re different and not the same. 
I hope that I will learn more every day, and not close myself just around European people.

Love You,

P.S Do you also sometimes feel like you’re on the edge of your tolerance?



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