Ellen and I arrived in Brusno, Slovakia almost two weeks ago. We're staying with Ellen's cousin Mana who lives on the upper level of a large two storey cream stucco house. We eat breakfast with Mana's always-on-the-go mother Teta Marka who lives on the ground level. Teta Marka has never strayed beyond the Slovak border, except for perhaps the odd shopping excursion into Poland, so dealing with an English speaking foreigner like me has her at her wits ...

Ellen and I caught the eastbound train from Prague for the little village of Brusno at the foothills of the Carpathian Mountains. Nary a word of English is spoken in central Slovakia, and Ellen seemed to be related to everyone. Three days later, after the greetings had died we went on a hiking trip into the High-Tatra Mountains with Jan and Mana, Ellen's cousins. At the end of the day we all settled in for a relaxing evening at a little cabin in the mountains...

The Danube River, just outside Bratislava, August, 1998.I glanced at the bottle of beer in my hand. It was about 30 minutes before breakfast and I was cold. I was sitting on the outer deck of a hovercraft, skipping down the Danube. Across from me sat a guy with a crew cut. He was staring at me with an ear to ear grin. His glasses were coke bottle thick and he wore a bright yellow track suit - a digital camera hung from his neck. Aside from being able to introduce...