Sweet Home Bratislava

Glenda and I were walking through the Christmas market in Bratislava this afternoon and we came upon a group of joyously inebriated group of revelers singing some kind of song at the top of their lungs. One woman grabbed me and started singing, so I attempted to mimic the words they were singing. They all laughed, and she said something in German. A guy on the street translated, “She’s saying, ‘You’re more drunk than we are!’”

I laughed and she said, “No. Deutsch! Deutsch!” So I continued to mimic the words of each phrase after them. They loved it and invited Glenda and me to sit with them. The guy playing the guitar was really good. When he heard I was an American, he struck up “Sweet Home Alabama.”

They sang two verses in, what was it? Hungarian?

Then my contribution in English was:

In Birmingham they love the Governor,
We all did what we could do,
What I gave doesn’t bother me,
Does your conscience bother you?
(Tell me true!)

They laughed, patted me on the back, treated me like the king of Slovakia, and kept on singing.

After the song they asked me where I was from. I told them “North Carolina.” One asked “Is that Alabama?”

I said, “No, but both are in the South—only, North Carolina is better than Alabama! Come see us!”

They laughed, saluted me with high-fives and gave me a set of new friends I will remember forever.Weiterlesen