Today's blog post is by another guest writer -- Christine Beresniova, Fulbright Grantee to Lithuania in 2011-2012.
I have a very special relationship with Lithuania because I am married to a Lithuanian. So when I was awarded a Fulbright grant in 2011 to spend 9 months doing dissertation research there, many people thought that I would have an easy time of things. People assumed that because I could already limp along in the language, and I knew what I was getting into when someone uttered the words "Lithuanian winter” that I was merely going on some kind of extended vacation.
I have a very special relationship with Lithuania because I am married to a Lithuanian. So when I was awarded a Fulbright grant in 2011 to spend 9 months doing dissertation research there, many people thought that I would have an easy time of things. People assumed that because I could already limp along in the language, and I knew what I was getting into when someone uttered the words "Lithuanian winter” that I was merely going on some kind of extended vacation.
This was
hardly true. My husband was not going with me nor was I going to be spending 9
months lazing about on my mother-in-law's sofa. Instead, I was going to have to
carve out my own research path and make my own way in a world that neither knew
me nor was invested in my success. Yes, I could look forward to a lovely Sunday
dinner of buttery cauliflower, lumpy potato dumplings (cepelinai), and freshly made poppyseed cake every week, but my
in-laws could not help me build trust with people, nor could they make the
subject I was studying less controversial in Lithuania's political landscape. Doing
anthropologic fieldwork on how post-Soviet teachers are trained to teach the
Holocaust after 60 years of Soviet-occupied silence on the matter was going to
be a journey I had to undertake almost entirely on my own.