Hi everyone (if anyone is still reading this... haha)
So I figured I'd recap St. Patrick's Day in Ireland and my friend Alana visiting with her boyfriend, Aaron. Both events were pretty epic and I've decided I need a solid week of sleep and detoxification before I can even think about sleeping less than 8 hours a night or drinking again.
So for St. Patrick's Day, my friend Kiel was in town. Kiel was originally my year at ND but is aiming to become the world's first quintuple Domer. So, for non-ND readers, the term "double Domer" is frequently used to mean someone who got more than one degree at Notre Dame. A bachelor's and a master's, bachelor's and a JD, whatever. Kiel discovered that although there have been many double Domers and a reasonable amount of triple Domers (I'm thinking probably bachelor's/JD/MBA or something along those lines) there have been only four quadruple Domers and NO quintuples. So this is his goal now. He has two bachelor's (one bachelor's of science and one of arts) and is currently working on his first master's. After this, he's thinking another master's, followed by an MBA. See, here's the thing. He's completely not kidding about any of this. This is actually his life goal. It's not like, "Ha! You know what would be funny? If I got five degrees from Notre Dame." No, it's like, "I AM GOING TO GET FIVE DEGREES FROM NOTRE DAME, END OF STORY."
So anyway, for this master's (something to do with engineering... I was totally paying attention) ND flew his entire program over to Ireland for spring break. Apparently the program is funded by one of the wealthiest families in Ireland, the Naughton family or some nonsense. So over they came, and it coincided with St. Patrick's Day, which was awesome. He was in Dublin, so I went into the city to hang out with him. Here are the things I did (for FREE... the instant I arrived, I got swept up into the Notre Dame "we have more money than GOD bubble" and I didn't have to pay for anything):
1) We stayed at the Merrion, the nicest hotel in Dublin. (http://www.merrionhotel.com/) It is the kind of place where, when you order two coffees in the morning, it costs you 40 euro. How do we know this? Well, we may have accidentally done it. But then ND reimbursed us, so no harm, no foul.
2) Kiel got us: free tickets in a grandstand to the SPD parade, free tickets in a box to the All-Ireland hurling and GAA championships, and free tickets to a Jameson's-sponsored party in the Lord Mayor's house.
3) Everything we ate, Notre Dame comped. Everything we drank, Notre Dame comped. Basically I spent no money once I got off the bus.
4) I got to hang out with Domers and just talk about Notre Dame. It was awesome. Oh yeah, and I got to see Kiel. Minor detail, ha.
So when he left, I stayed in Dublin on Friday night because my old roommate from NYC, Alana, was coming in on Saturday morning. I needed somewhere to just sit and study on Friday, so I showed up at the Notre Dame Center in Dublin. I basically just showed up and was like, "yo. I'm an alum. I live in Galway but need a place to chill in Dublin for the day," and the receptionist was like, "of course, honey, this happens all the time." Seriously, Notre Dame. Also the Notre Dame Center is in Daniel O'Connell's old house. How do we do this nonsense? It is absurd and I LOVE it.
So Saturday Alana showed up with Aaron! It was so incredibly wonderful. We spent Saturday and Sunday in Dublin and then they were in Galway from Mon-Thurs. We just had really good times. I sent them out to the Connemara and the Cliffs of Moher on the days I had classes, but when I didn't have class we hung out and cooked and ate and drank and I showed them around Galway and took them to my favorite places and it was really, really fun. I can't think of anything in particular that was especially amazing, but it was just so good to have friends around and to get to show off my new city. I never love Galway as much as when I'm showing it off to someone who has never been. (HINT TO ALL OF YOU WHO HAVEN'T VISITED ME YET)
So they left this morning and that was sad. But I have Kyle Barrettsmith and Australia coming up! Life is still pretty sweet.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
I Suppose I Should Do This Again
Many people have urged me to begin blogging again. I was going to protest because I didn't think anything at all special had happened in my life, but it occurred to me some really cool things are happening! LIST TIME.
1) The weekend of February 25-26, I participated in Irish college swimming nationals. The NCAAs of the Emerald Isle, if you will. I haven't swum competitively since I was seventeen years old. I placed fourth in the 200 breaststroke and fifth in the 200 IM. It was hysterical. There was this incredibly clear divide between the people who are clearly going to make the Irish Olympic team and... everybody else. After like, second or third place in every event, there was this STEEP drop off to everyone else. No middle ground whatsoever. You were either really superbly excellent, or you just kinda did your thing. I definitely fell into the "just kinda did your thing" category - I was kind of leading the pack of those people, but also finishing about 20 seconds behind the top finishers. My friend Mike (who is also getting a master's here but is from Tennessee originally) hands down, far and away, won the 200 back (he swam in [American] college). I almost felt bad because it was such a, "Who is that guy? He came outta NOWHERE!" moment. We had to explain that he would not be attending the Olympics as he is a United States citizen. Sad day for Irish swimming.
Irish swimming is SO much more fun than American. In the first place, all the heats were on Friday and all the finals Saturday. There was this huge party on Friday night where everyone drank. EVERYONE. Including the people who had to swim the next day! It was unreal. I couldn't fathom something like that happening in the States. On Saturday, there was also this huge fancy ball. It was really, really fun especially because I could let loose more that night than Friday night because I didn't have to swim the next day. It was insane.
2) I just booked a flight to Scotland to visit my friend Lauren for the first week of April. Lauren went to St. Mary's College (which, for anyone who doesn't know, is Notre Dame's sister school) and she used to take a lot of English classes at Notre Dame, so we got to be friends. She lives in St. Andrews now (the home of golf!) and I've been meaning to go see her for a long time so I finally just did it. Should be fun to get out of Dodge and visit somewhere I probably never would have otherwise. My only expectations are to meet Prince William and gaze into his eyes for an extended period of time and then to become best friends with Kate Middleton. So I probably won't be disappointed as these are extremely achievable goals.
3) This is not an extraordinary happening at all, but last night on my way home from campus where I'd been doing work, I decided to stop at the grocery store. I had my backpack with me, so I decided that would work well as my grocery bag (in Ireland, in a policy which I TOTALLY think they should implement in America, they charge you per plastic bag so as to encourage you to use reusable bags). I was stuffing my groceries into my backpack, doing my thang, and this employee approached me and was like, "erm... excuse me... can you use this?" and held out a wire shopping basket. I accepted, puzzled, until I realized that stuffing food into my backpack looked exactly like shoplifting. Whoops.
4) Visitor time begins! I'm really looking forward to the next batch of visitors. First, my friend Kiel who was my year at Notre Dame is going to be in Dublin for St. Patrick's Day. He's now getting a master's at ND and his program is flying him for FREE to Ireland for spring break. I'm going to head in there Wednesday, hang out with him Thursday (my Thurs and Fri classes got canceled bc of St. Patty's) and then stay there Friday so I can be at the airport Saturday morning to pick up my old roommate from NYC Alana and her boyfriend from the airport! We'll stay in Dublin that Saturday night and head back to Galway in the morning. They're staying with me til Thursday.
Then, slightly into the future but I'm no less excited about it, my friend Kyle Barrettsmith is coming in late April and then I'm going to Australia! Pretty exciting next couple of months I've got lined up.
I think that's all, folks! Love you and miss you all.
1) The weekend of February 25-26, I participated in Irish college swimming nationals. The NCAAs of the Emerald Isle, if you will. I haven't swum competitively since I was seventeen years old. I placed fourth in the 200 breaststroke and fifth in the 200 IM. It was hysterical. There was this incredibly clear divide between the people who are clearly going to make the Irish Olympic team and... everybody else. After like, second or third place in every event, there was this STEEP drop off to everyone else. No middle ground whatsoever. You were either really superbly excellent, or you just kinda did your thing. I definitely fell into the "just kinda did your thing" category - I was kind of leading the pack of those people, but also finishing about 20 seconds behind the top finishers. My friend Mike (who is also getting a master's here but is from Tennessee originally) hands down, far and away, won the 200 back (he swam in [American] college). I almost felt bad because it was such a, "Who is that guy? He came outta NOWHERE!" moment. We had to explain that he would not be attending the Olympics as he is a United States citizen. Sad day for Irish swimming.
Irish swimming is SO much more fun than American. In the first place, all the heats were on Friday and all the finals Saturday. There was this huge party on Friday night where everyone drank. EVERYONE. Including the people who had to swim the next day! It was unreal. I couldn't fathom something like that happening in the States. On Saturday, there was also this huge fancy ball. It was really, really fun especially because I could let loose more that night than Friday night because I didn't have to swim the next day. It was insane.
2) I just booked a flight to Scotland to visit my friend Lauren for the first week of April. Lauren went to St. Mary's College (which, for anyone who doesn't know, is Notre Dame's sister school) and she used to take a lot of English classes at Notre Dame, so we got to be friends. She lives in St. Andrews now (the home of golf!) and I've been meaning to go see her for a long time so I finally just did it. Should be fun to get out of Dodge and visit somewhere I probably never would have otherwise. My only expectations are to meet Prince William and gaze into his eyes for an extended period of time and then to become best friends with Kate Middleton. So I probably won't be disappointed as these are extremely achievable goals.
3) This is not an extraordinary happening at all, but last night on my way home from campus where I'd been doing work, I decided to stop at the grocery store. I had my backpack with me, so I decided that would work well as my grocery bag (in Ireland, in a policy which I TOTALLY think they should implement in America, they charge you per plastic bag so as to encourage you to use reusable bags). I was stuffing my groceries into my backpack, doing my thang, and this employee approached me and was like, "erm... excuse me... can you use this?" and held out a wire shopping basket. I accepted, puzzled, until I realized that stuffing food into my backpack looked exactly like shoplifting. Whoops.
4) Visitor time begins! I'm really looking forward to the next batch of visitors. First, my friend Kiel who was my year at Notre Dame is going to be in Dublin for St. Patrick's Day. He's now getting a master's at ND and his program is flying him for FREE to Ireland for spring break. I'm going to head in there Wednesday, hang out with him Thursday (my Thurs and Fri classes got canceled bc of St. Patty's) and then stay there Friday so I can be at the airport Saturday morning to pick up my old roommate from NYC Alana and her boyfriend from the airport! We'll stay in Dublin that Saturday night and head back to Galway in the morning. They're staying with me til Thursday.
Then, slightly into the future but I'm no less excited about it, my friend Kyle Barrettsmith is coming in late April and then I'm going to Australia! Pretty exciting next couple of months I've got lined up.
I think that's all, folks! Love you and miss you all.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Si, Si Madrid
So I’ve just returned from a lovely little holiday in Spain. My friend Mike, who lives and studies here in Galway with me, did a Fulbright in Madrid last year and decided to go back to visit for a week (he only has classes one day a week… bastard). So I put my sponge skills to work and got a 3-day vacay in Madrid where basically all I spent money on was a flight. I stayed with his friends for free, and, unbeknownst to me at the time I booked the flight, apparently once I arrived in Madrid it was going to become a competition to see who could buy me more food, beer and wine. I’m not kidding. Mike, his friend Aaron, Aaron’s roommates… they kept insisting they wanted to show great hospitality so I would love Madrid. I don’t know if they’re working for the Madrid Tourism Board or what, but it definitely worked and I will spend the rest of this blog entry singing Madrid’s praises. I think I only spent money on one meal, because I finally put my foot down and insisted on buying my host (Aaron) dinner one night. Other than that, this was the cheapest vacation I’ve ever had. I think I withdrew 70 euro in the Dublin airport and returned with about 30 euro. It was insane.
So, Madrid. I am so glad I experienced this with a local, or at least a semi-local. Mike (to my untrained eye) knew EVERYTHING about Madrid, and if there was something he didn’t know, Aaron did. Mike and Aaron did Fulbrights last year and Aaron stayed on and is still living and loving Madrid. It wasn’t a terribly cultural trip, because this was like, their city, so I didn’t want to be like, “ummm take me to the Praaaaaaaado,” but I honestly think that made me enjoy it that much more because being in Madrid felt more like living a lifestyle than it did ticking off certain “have to see” boxes.
So I left early Saturday morning (5 a.m. flight) and got into Madrid at like 9:30. I navigated the Metro to Aaron’s apartment (was SO proud of myself for that) and woke them up at 12:30, which I felt bad about but they insisted was fine. Basically I dropped my bag off and we went out tapiendo (eating tapas). Yes. The Spanish love their tapas so much there is a verb specifically for eating them. (hint: this blog entry is going to be LARGELY about food I ate. Until this vacay, I thought the best food I’d ever had was in Italy. I may be revising that statement.)
We started in this little plaza right outside Aaron’s apartment. There were like, 4 tapas bars all in this little oval around the bottom of the plaza. Aaron knew which were the best tapas at each restaurant, so we started at one, had a couple, moved onto the next, and so on. It was in the SEVENTIES so this was also all happening outside. We got done tapiendoing (Spanglish FTW) at around 4:30, which was just in time for siesta. I thought we’d nap at Aaron’s apartment, but no, we went to a park and slept in the warm sunshine. It was PHENOMENOL. It was warm! I was in short sleeves and leggings! I took my SHOES OFF! We napped until probably 6 or 6:30 (and it was still light out when we were done!) and then headed back to Aaron’s for showering/wine/pre-dinner prepping. On the way, we (note: whenever we say we, I’m usually referring to Mike, Aaron and myself) stopped for more tapas, so we made it back around probably 9.
We just kind of putzed around his apartment for awhile – I took a shower, the boys did whatever boys do while girls shower – and headed out around midnight for dinner. I’d always heard the Spanish ate and did everything really late, but I figured that meant dinner at 9 or 10. No one seemed even remotely stressed when Aaron was still in the shower at like 11:30. It just seemed a total non-issue. They took me to this tiny little hole in the wall Mexican place and I had tacos and a margarita for the first time since… well, December, but that doesn’t accurately demonstrate how much I’m missing Mexican food. After that, we went to this sangria bar that they assured me was one of Hemingway’s haunts, but I’m not sure because there seemed to be no Hemingway propaganda or pictures or anything, but maybe the Spanish are just classier than Americans and don’t feel the need to splash the fact that someone famous ate there or drank there around their restaurant.
After that, it was onto a club. My biggest fear for Spain was the nightlife. I am not a night owl. I am a wimp when it comes to going out. When you’re with me and it hits 3 a.m., man, it is time for BED. Sometimes (read: a LOT of times) I don’t even make it that far. I knew that the Spanish are generally out until 6:30 or 7 a.m. and I was genuinely very stressed about it. I didn’t want to make the boys take me home when the night was just beginning, but nor did I want to fall asleep against a wall at some club somewhere. (I feel like the end of that sentence is what a lot of “Taken”-esque movies are premised upon.)
Turns out I was TOTALLY underestimating the power of the siesta. I was good to GO. We had the best night. We just wandered around and went into different clubs Aaron and Mike knew. I am also not a club person, but the term “club” when it comes to Spain or at least Madrid or at least the clubs we went to that particular night is a bit of a misnomer. These were not techno/house/electronica establishments. They were basically just bars that were open later. They had tables and dance floors but also conversational areas, etc. I hate going to places where the music is so loud you can’t talk and everyone is skinnier than you and the girls are mean and the boys are sleazy and you just jump up and down like an idiot because it’s so crowded you can’t really dance… to me, that is a “club” and it is not an experience I enjoy. But these were not “clubs” in that sense of the word, but rather just bars that were open past 2:30.
Anyway we were legitimately out til 7. ME! I WAS OUT TIL 7 IN THE MORNING! Nerdy little wimpy me! And it wasn’t even difficult! We saw the sun rise on our way home! As we were going back into Aaron’s apartment I asked if I should set an alarm, if anyone had anything to do that day, and they were like, “no! The Spanish do not set alarms! Just sleep!” I woke up at 1:30 and was so incredibly refreshed. It was the best sleep I’ve had in a long time and I was so ready for the day and so alert and happy. (sidenote: before we went out that night, Aaron’s roommate Nikki was trying to convince us to go hiking with her on Sunday, and we were all pretty into the idea. Then she said, “I’m getting up pretty early though….like 11,” and instantly the boys were like, “oh, sorry, not gonna happen, no.” I thought they were being silly but now I completely understand. Eleven would have been HELLA early.)
Sidenote: something ELSE that surprised me about myself (besides my ability to party like a Spaniard) was that my Spanish is really a lot better than I give myself credit for. I was able to largely follow most of Aaron’s interactions with his roommates (and they were speaking FAST), and I conducted entire conversations with people without them switching to English or slowing down their speaking considerably. At one point, right after I got off the Metro in Aaron’s neighborhood, I went into a hotel because I wasn’t quiiiiite sure what I was doing and I figured a hotel receptionist, if anyone, was going to be able to help me/give me directions, and we had about a 7 minute convo, during which at no point did he have to switch to English or did I have to speak English, and I understood it so completely that I was able to navigate my way to Aaron’s with complete confidence. I mean, I’m sure it was totally obvious Spanish was not my first language and that I didn’t speak it fluently, but for instance when I was in Germany, as soon as I started to speak in German people would just say, “Yeah, how can I help you?” Here I totally knew what was going on and even managed to produce some Spanish myself. I was proud.
So ANYWAY on Sunday we woke up and went to lunch at like 3 at an Indian buffet. Then we spent the day park hopping. They just took me to all their favorite parks and we walked around and hung out and talked to Spanish people and laid in the sunshine and it was beautiful and magical and perfect. On the way home we stopped and got delicious sushi and were home by like 11. Aaron had to work the next day so we just hung out and chatted and went to bed around midnight/oneish.
On Monday I had to leave, which broke my heart. However, my flight was at 9 p.m. so I had pretty much a full day. We woke up and went to the school Mike taught at last year (when you do a Fulbright, you can either teach in a high school or do research at a university) and everyone went NUTS over him. Teachers, students, everyone. They seemed so happy to see him. He taught science and I guess became very close with the head of the science department, because when we walked in she squealed and then hugged me, kissed my cheeks, and excitedly asked Mike, “Esta mi hija nueva?” (Is this my new daughter?) It was really freaking adorable.
Mike was then a good Fulbright alum and at the end of the day we took the new Fulbright teacher out to lunch. Her name was Noelle and she was from Kansas City and went to Haverford in Philly (I got really excited and told her that my aunt, uncle and cousin used to live in KC and now live in Philly and she was like… that’s nice [because, let’s be real, what else was she supposed to say?]) and she was very nice. We had a nice extended lunch with her (we got to the school around noon and then the day was over at 2, so we just went straight from escuela to lunch) and then after that, because I insisted on doing SOMETHING touristy, Mike was very obliging and took me to the Reina Sofia where I saw Guernica and lots of other Picassos and some Dalis. Guernica is HUGE, just as a sidenote. It is immense and like, the entire height and length of one wall in the museum. (Guernica is that painting Picasso painted sometime in the 30s after Hitler was like, “hey, Franco, can I test out my bombs in Spain?” and Franco was like, “Sure, go for it, it’s not like I ever liked the Basques.” If you have no idea what I’m talking about, google it and I’m sure you’ll recognize it.)
Then, tragically, it was time to leave. After the Reina, I just went back to Aaron’s, collected my stuff and Metro’ed out to the aeropuerto. And now I am back in Ireland and it is not sunny and no one wants to buy me food and drinks anymore. But, ah, Madrid. You were wonderful.
So, Madrid. I am so glad I experienced this with a local, or at least a semi-local. Mike (to my untrained eye) knew EVERYTHING about Madrid, and if there was something he didn’t know, Aaron did. Mike and Aaron did Fulbrights last year and Aaron stayed on and is still living and loving Madrid. It wasn’t a terribly cultural trip, because this was like, their city, so I didn’t want to be like, “ummm take me to the Praaaaaaaado,” but I honestly think that made me enjoy it that much more because being in Madrid felt more like living a lifestyle than it did ticking off certain “have to see” boxes.
So I left early Saturday morning (5 a.m. flight) and got into Madrid at like 9:30. I navigated the Metro to Aaron’s apartment (was SO proud of myself for that) and woke them up at 12:30, which I felt bad about but they insisted was fine. Basically I dropped my bag off and we went out tapiendo (eating tapas). Yes. The Spanish love their tapas so much there is a verb specifically for eating them. (hint: this blog entry is going to be LARGELY about food I ate. Until this vacay, I thought the best food I’d ever had was in Italy. I may be revising that statement.)
We started in this little plaza right outside Aaron’s apartment. There were like, 4 tapas bars all in this little oval around the bottom of the plaza. Aaron knew which were the best tapas at each restaurant, so we started at one, had a couple, moved onto the next, and so on. It was in the SEVENTIES so this was also all happening outside. We got done tapiendoing (Spanglish FTW) at around 4:30, which was just in time for siesta. I thought we’d nap at Aaron’s apartment, but no, we went to a park and slept in the warm sunshine. It was PHENOMENOL. It was warm! I was in short sleeves and leggings! I took my SHOES OFF! We napped until probably 6 or 6:30 (and it was still light out when we were done!) and then headed back to Aaron’s for showering/wine/pre-dinner prepping. On the way, we (note: whenever we say we, I’m usually referring to Mike, Aaron and myself) stopped for more tapas, so we made it back around probably 9.
We just kind of putzed around his apartment for awhile – I took a shower, the boys did whatever boys do while girls shower – and headed out around midnight for dinner. I’d always heard the Spanish ate and did everything really late, but I figured that meant dinner at 9 or 10. No one seemed even remotely stressed when Aaron was still in the shower at like 11:30. It just seemed a total non-issue. They took me to this tiny little hole in the wall Mexican place and I had tacos and a margarita for the first time since… well, December, but that doesn’t accurately demonstrate how much I’m missing Mexican food. After that, we went to this sangria bar that they assured me was one of Hemingway’s haunts, but I’m not sure because there seemed to be no Hemingway propaganda or pictures or anything, but maybe the Spanish are just classier than Americans and don’t feel the need to splash the fact that someone famous ate there or drank there around their restaurant.
After that, it was onto a club. My biggest fear for Spain was the nightlife. I am not a night owl. I am a wimp when it comes to going out. When you’re with me and it hits 3 a.m., man, it is time for BED. Sometimes (read: a LOT of times) I don’t even make it that far. I knew that the Spanish are generally out until 6:30 or 7 a.m. and I was genuinely very stressed about it. I didn’t want to make the boys take me home when the night was just beginning, but nor did I want to fall asleep against a wall at some club somewhere. (I feel like the end of that sentence is what a lot of “Taken”-esque movies are premised upon.)
Turns out I was TOTALLY underestimating the power of the siesta. I was good to GO. We had the best night. We just wandered around and went into different clubs Aaron and Mike knew. I am also not a club person, but the term “club” when it comes to Spain or at least Madrid or at least the clubs we went to that particular night is a bit of a misnomer. These were not techno/house/electronica establishments. They were basically just bars that were open later. They had tables and dance floors but also conversational areas, etc. I hate going to places where the music is so loud you can’t talk and everyone is skinnier than you and the girls are mean and the boys are sleazy and you just jump up and down like an idiot because it’s so crowded you can’t really dance… to me, that is a “club” and it is not an experience I enjoy. But these were not “clubs” in that sense of the word, but rather just bars that were open past 2:30.
Anyway we were legitimately out til 7. ME! I WAS OUT TIL 7 IN THE MORNING! Nerdy little wimpy me! And it wasn’t even difficult! We saw the sun rise on our way home! As we were going back into Aaron’s apartment I asked if I should set an alarm, if anyone had anything to do that day, and they were like, “no! The Spanish do not set alarms! Just sleep!” I woke up at 1:30 and was so incredibly refreshed. It was the best sleep I’ve had in a long time and I was so ready for the day and so alert and happy. (sidenote: before we went out that night, Aaron’s roommate Nikki was trying to convince us to go hiking with her on Sunday, and we were all pretty into the idea. Then she said, “I’m getting up pretty early though….like 11,” and instantly the boys were like, “oh, sorry, not gonna happen, no.” I thought they were being silly but now I completely understand. Eleven would have been HELLA early.)
Sidenote: something ELSE that surprised me about myself (besides my ability to party like a Spaniard) was that my Spanish is really a lot better than I give myself credit for. I was able to largely follow most of Aaron’s interactions with his roommates (and they were speaking FAST), and I conducted entire conversations with people without them switching to English or slowing down their speaking considerably. At one point, right after I got off the Metro in Aaron’s neighborhood, I went into a hotel because I wasn’t quiiiiite sure what I was doing and I figured a hotel receptionist, if anyone, was going to be able to help me/give me directions, and we had about a 7 minute convo, during which at no point did he have to switch to English or did I have to speak English, and I understood it so completely that I was able to navigate my way to Aaron’s with complete confidence. I mean, I’m sure it was totally obvious Spanish was not my first language and that I didn’t speak it fluently, but for instance when I was in Germany, as soon as I started to speak in German people would just say, “Yeah, how can I help you?” Here I totally knew what was going on and even managed to produce some Spanish myself. I was proud.
So ANYWAY on Sunday we woke up and went to lunch at like 3 at an Indian buffet. Then we spent the day park hopping. They just took me to all their favorite parks and we walked around and hung out and talked to Spanish people and laid in the sunshine and it was beautiful and magical and perfect. On the way home we stopped and got delicious sushi and were home by like 11. Aaron had to work the next day so we just hung out and chatted and went to bed around midnight/oneish.
On Monday I had to leave, which broke my heart. However, my flight was at 9 p.m. so I had pretty much a full day. We woke up and went to the school Mike taught at last year (when you do a Fulbright, you can either teach in a high school or do research at a university) and everyone went NUTS over him. Teachers, students, everyone. They seemed so happy to see him. He taught science and I guess became very close with the head of the science department, because when we walked in she squealed and then hugged me, kissed my cheeks, and excitedly asked Mike, “Esta mi hija nueva?” (Is this my new daughter?) It was really freaking adorable.
Mike was then a good Fulbright alum and at the end of the day we took the new Fulbright teacher out to lunch. Her name was Noelle and she was from Kansas City and went to Haverford in Philly (I got really excited and told her that my aunt, uncle and cousin used to live in KC and now live in Philly and she was like… that’s nice [because, let’s be real, what else was she supposed to say?]) and she was very nice. We had a nice extended lunch with her (we got to the school around noon and then the day was over at 2, so we just went straight from escuela to lunch) and then after that, because I insisted on doing SOMETHING touristy, Mike was very obliging and took me to the Reina Sofia where I saw Guernica and lots of other Picassos and some Dalis. Guernica is HUGE, just as a sidenote. It is immense and like, the entire height and length of one wall in the museum. (Guernica is that painting Picasso painted sometime in the 30s after Hitler was like, “hey, Franco, can I test out my bombs in Spain?” and Franco was like, “Sure, go for it, it’s not like I ever liked the Basques.” If you have no idea what I’m talking about, google it and I’m sure you’ll recognize it.)
Then, tragically, it was time to leave. After the Reina, I just went back to Aaron’s, collected my stuff and Metro’ed out to the aeropuerto. And now I am back in Ireland and it is not sunny and no one wants to buy me food and drinks anymore. But, ah, Madrid. You were wonderful.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
That's All, Folks
Aaaand I have reached the end of my solo Central/Eastern European jaunt.
My last like, 12 hours in Prague were amazing. I wrote that we were going to go to the Nutcracker, which had been the plan in the morning. (My Argentinean friends and I split up and they were going to go to the cheap ticket booth to get tickets.) They instead, however, got tickets to the opera Don Giovanni, performed AT the theater where Mozart world premiered Don Giovanni 200 years ago or whatever it would have been. AMAZING.
I have never been to an opera before and was sort of scared. This might make me sound like a pretentious ass, but I really, completely thoroughly enjoyed the evening. They had subtitles up in Czech and English for those who didn’t speak Italian, and had it not been for those, I think I would have been bored stiff/wouldn’t have had the slightest idea what was going on. I’m not sure if it’s just the translation or the style of writing at the time, but someone of the dialogue was so stilted it was hysterical. Characters would say stuff like, “You have stabbed me. My blood is exiting my body. My life is over. I die now.” (I wrote that one down on my program because it was an especially excellent example.) Anyway, it was highly enjoyable. It really didn’t feel like three hours. It was great. Also, it cost the equivalent of 8 dollars. Eastern Europe FTW.
That same night I said goodbye to my Argentinean friends, which was super sad. I woke up this morning and just generally got myself to the airport – pretty boring. I’m waiting to board my flight now.
A couple of general observations:
1) I’m glad I gave solo traveling a try. I would not have wanted to have been stuck in Galway for 2 weeks alone before class started. I’m really glad I got over the, “but I have no one to go with me!” fear. That being said, I don’t exactly think solo traveling is going to become my preferred method of travel. I’ve discovered that I like doing daytime stuff by myself. I genuinely enjoy going to museums alone and I don’t even really mind eating lunch by myself. It gets HELLA awkward at night, though. I mean, there are SO many solo travelers in hostels all over Europe, but I am an exceptionally awkward person even with people I know quite well, so trying to strike up conversation with people in the hostel bar or common area is completely nerve-wracking for me. But I also feel stupid coming back at like 8 and just reading or going to bed, because I feel like… I’m in Europe! I can’t just stay in and read! But that doesn’t make chatting with other travelers any easier. Anyway, I’m glad I did it because now I KNOW I can do it, so if I really want to go somewhere and I can’t find anyone to go with, I know I have the capability to go it alone. But I definitely much prefer traveling with other people.
2) I am absolutely shocked nothing went wrong on this journey. Like, everything went SO smoothly. I was worried about forgetting to book a hostel, booking flights on the wrong date, going to the wrong city, getting pickpocketed, or just generally doing something insanely stupid but very me. (I am not very good at the logistics of traveling. One infamous incident would be May of 2010 when I booked a Megabus ticket going from DC to New York… instead of New York to DC. It was horrifying.) I mean, I shouldn’t say it quite yet because I’m still at the gate in the Prague airport, but it really seems like this entire journey is going to go off without a single hitch.
3) This is more specific, but I have to say it – I don’t terribly care for the Czech people. Our tour guide described them as “dour and sullen” and I’d be inclined to agree. They act really pissed off at you all the time. I don’t think it’s because I can’t speak Czech (kind of like how the French get angry when you don’t speak French) because I’ve tried to start all my conversations with waiters, museum employees, public transportation employees, etc, in one of the Czech phrases I committed to memory (mluvite anglicky?), and they also appear to be super angry at regular Czech people who approach them. Also, paying for services rendered in this country appears to be totally optional. I can think of numerous occasions where I’ve attempted to pay my bill in a restaurant or bar, only to have the waiter get extraordinarily frustrated with me and just wave me off or ask me just to leave. I also can think of times when I’ve been presented with the bill, and the only thing on it is a beer when I ordered a meal as well. When you try to correct the mistake and pay the correct amount, they also get really frustrated and just insist on you only paying for the beer. I also have tried to pay for tickets on the bus, tram, whatever, again only to be told just to get on the bus, followed by an exasperated puff of air. I don’t understand it at all. I guess they don’t quite have the hang of capitalism yet. It’s totally bizarre.
ANYWAY. So that’s the rub. Now I’ll go back to updating this thing like, once a month or so. haha :-) Thanks for reading, eeeeerbody.
My last like, 12 hours in Prague were amazing. I wrote that we were going to go to the Nutcracker, which had been the plan in the morning. (My Argentinean friends and I split up and they were going to go to the cheap ticket booth to get tickets.) They instead, however, got tickets to the opera Don Giovanni, performed AT the theater where Mozart world premiered Don Giovanni 200 years ago or whatever it would have been. AMAZING.
I have never been to an opera before and was sort of scared. This might make me sound like a pretentious ass, but I really, completely thoroughly enjoyed the evening. They had subtitles up in Czech and English for those who didn’t speak Italian, and had it not been for those, I think I would have been bored stiff/wouldn’t have had the slightest idea what was going on. I’m not sure if it’s just the translation or the style of writing at the time, but someone of the dialogue was so stilted it was hysterical. Characters would say stuff like, “You have stabbed me. My blood is exiting my body. My life is over. I die now.” (I wrote that one down on my program because it was an especially excellent example.) Anyway, it was highly enjoyable. It really didn’t feel like three hours. It was great. Also, it cost the equivalent of 8 dollars. Eastern Europe FTW.
That same night I said goodbye to my Argentinean friends, which was super sad. I woke up this morning and just generally got myself to the airport – pretty boring. I’m waiting to board my flight now.
A couple of general observations:
1) I’m glad I gave solo traveling a try. I would not have wanted to have been stuck in Galway for 2 weeks alone before class started. I’m really glad I got over the, “but I have no one to go with me!” fear. That being said, I don’t exactly think solo traveling is going to become my preferred method of travel. I’ve discovered that I like doing daytime stuff by myself. I genuinely enjoy going to museums alone and I don’t even really mind eating lunch by myself. It gets HELLA awkward at night, though. I mean, there are SO many solo travelers in hostels all over Europe, but I am an exceptionally awkward person even with people I know quite well, so trying to strike up conversation with people in the hostel bar or common area is completely nerve-wracking for me. But I also feel stupid coming back at like 8 and just reading or going to bed, because I feel like… I’m in Europe! I can’t just stay in and read! But that doesn’t make chatting with other travelers any easier. Anyway, I’m glad I did it because now I KNOW I can do it, so if I really want to go somewhere and I can’t find anyone to go with, I know I have the capability to go it alone. But I definitely much prefer traveling with other people.
2) I am absolutely shocked nothing went wrong on this journey. Like, everything went SO smoothly. I was worried about forgetting to book a hostel, booking flights on the wrong date, going to the wrong city, getting pickpocketed, or just generally doing something insanely stupid but very me. (I am not very good at the logistics of traveling. One infamous incident would be May of 2010 when I booked a Megabus ticket going from DC to New York… instead of New York to DC. It was horrifying.) I mean, I shouldn’t say it quite yet because I’m still at the gate in the Prague airport, but it really seems like this entire journey is going to go off without a single hitch.
3) This is more specific, but I have to say it – I don’t terribly care for the Czech people. Our tour guide described them as “dour and sullen” and I’d be inclined to agree. They act really pissed off at you all the time. I don’t think it’s because I can’t speak Czech (kind of like how the French get angry when you don’t speak French) because I’ve tried to start all my conversations with waiters, museum employees, public transportation employees, etc, in one of the Czech phrases I committed to memory (mluvite anglicky?), and they also appear to be super angry at regular Czech people who approach them. Also, paying for services rendered in this country appears to be totally optional. I can think of numerous occasions where I’ve attempted to pay my bill in a restaurant or bar, only to have the waiter get extraordinarily frustrated with me and just wave me off or ask me just to leave. I also can think of times when I’ve been presented with the bill, and the only thing on it is a beer when I ordered a meal as well. When you try to correct the mistake and pay the correct amount, they also get really frustrated and just insist on you only paying for the beer. I also have tried to pay for tickets on the bus, tram, whatever, again only to be told just to get on the bus, followed by an exasperated puff of air. I don’t understand it at all. I guess they don’t quite have the hang of capitalism yet. It’s totally bizarre.
ANYWAY. So that’s the rub. Now I’ll go back to updating this thing like, once a month or so. haha :-) Thanks for reading, eeeeerbody.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Czech This Out: Prague
So I know that's the corniest title for a blog entry EVER, but I honestly could not resist.
Prague is, in a word, totally enchanting. It's just what I think of when I think of Europe. Old cobblestoned streets, this castle up on a hill, great old architecture, dark and windy streets... it's awesome. I am loving it. I can't believe I have to go to CLASS on Tuesday! Ugh.
So I got in on Thursday night, kind of too late to really do anything except go out. Agostina was meeting up with some of her friends from Argentina here, and they all took me under their wing and have become my friends. I literally cannot thank these people enough. This hostel is about the nicest hostel I've ever seen. It's honestly more like a hotel than a hostel. It's... awesome. I honestly can't think of another word to describe it. The downside, though, to it being kind of hotel-y is that it would have been a LOT more difficult to meet people than it was in my hostels in Munich and Berlin. Thank goodness, though, I don't have to! I can't get over how nice these people have been to me. They go out of their way to speak English to and around me (even though it's obviously none of their first language, and one guy in particular clearly really struggles with it, but he persists in speaking it in group settings when I'm around), they include me in everything they do, etc. When I was waiting in the hostel bar with Agostina for her friends and they showed up, I kind of hung around for about 15 minutes and was like, "okay, see you guys later." I didn't want to impose on them since they had all just been reunited (they all traveled with each other for awhile but then they all wanted to do their own thing, so they were split up for about 2 weeks and reunited here in Prague). They were all like, "What? Where are you going? You don't want to hang out with us?" I was like, "I don't want to impose..." and one girl got up from the table, did the thing were you kiss someone on both cheeks (very Latin, I feel) and was like, "you are very welcome here with us." They've been so great.
So ANYWAY by the time they all came in it was about 8, so we just ate dinner at the hostel and went out. We went to the club that virtually every visitor to Prague under the age of 30 goes to... THE LARGEST MUSIC CLUB IN CENTRAL EUROPE! I don't even remember the name, but I know EVERYONE goes here. If anyone who is reading this has been to Prague, I'm sure you know exactly what I'm talking about. Anyway, it was sort of an obligatory thing. The club has five levels and each does a different type of music... it's actually a really weird place. But now I can say I've been there.
So Friday we got up and did a walking tour of Prague, with that same New Europe tour company. Again... it was really cool. We hit all the main sights... Old Town, the astronomical clock, the Charles Bridge, etc. Then in the afternoon, I did a walking tour of Prague Castle, which is apparently the largest castle complex in the world. It. Was. Incredible. ALSO I SAW THE CZECH PRESIDENT THERE!!! His offices are there and he was in his car driving away from the building! The tour guide confirmed it for us (mostly because, in the words of Derrick Testa, "If I saw the Czech president, he'd have to be holding a sign that said, 'Czech President' in English for me to know who it was.") Regardless. So cool.
Today I went to legitimately two of the coolest museums I have ever been to in my life. First, the Museum of Communism was incredible. It had all this Soviet memorabilia and exhibits on life under Soviet rule... it was really, really cool. Then I went to the Kafka Museum, which I'm still sort of trying to process. It... I sort of can't explain it. That sounds so stupid. But the museum was one long...path, I guess, and you go through the Prague of Kafka's imagination. That sounds weird, but I legitimately can't think of another way to explain it. It was... wow. It was really good.
Tonight I'm going to a performance of The Nutcracker with my new Argentinean friends. For the equivalent of seven dollars. I. Love. Central. Europe.
Ugh. I have to leave tomorrow. Gross.
Prague is, in a word, totally enchanting. It's just what I think of when I think of Europe. Old cobblestoned streets, this castle up on a hill, great old architecture, dark and windy streets... it's awesome. I am loving it. I can't believe I have to go to CLASS on Tuesday! Ugh.
So I got in on Thursday night, kind of too late to really do anything except go out. Agostina was meeting up with some of her friends from Argentina here, and they all took me under their wing and have become my friends. I literally cannot thank these people enough. This hostel is about the nicest hostel I've ever seen. It's honestly more like a hotel than a hostel. It's... awesome. I honestly can't think of another word to describe it. The downside, though, to it being kind of hotel-y is that it would have been a LOT more difficult to meet people than it was in my hostels in Munich and Berlin. Thank goodness, though, I don't have to! I can't get over how nice these people have been to me. They go out of their way to speak English to and around me (even though it's obviously none of their first language, and one guy in particular clearly really struggles with it, but he persists in speaking it in group settings when I'm around), they include me in everything they do, etc. When I was waiting in the hostel bar with Agostina for her friends and they showed up, I kind of hung around for about 15 minutes and was like, "okay, see you guys later." I didn't want to impose on them since they had all just been reunited (they all traveled with each other for awhile but then they all wanted to do their own thing, so they were split up for about 2 weeks and reunited here in Prague). They were all like, "What? Where are you going? You don't want to hang out with us?" I was like, "I don't want to impose..." and one girl got up from the table, did the thing were you kiss someone on both cheeks (very Latin, I feel) and was like, "you are very welcome here with us." They've been so great.
So ANYWAY by the time they all came in it was about 8, so we just ate dinner at the hostel and went out. We went to the club that virtually every visitor to Prague under the age of 30 goes to... THE LARGEST MUSIC CLUB IN CENTRAL EUROPE! I don't even remember the name, but I know EVERYONE goes here. If anyone who is reading this has been to Prague, I'm sure you know exactly what I'm talking about. Anyway, it was sort of an obligatory thing. The club has five levels and each does a different type of music... it's actually a really weird place. But now I can say I've been there.
So Friday we got up and did a walking tour of Prague, with that same New Europe tour company. Again... it was really cool. We hit all the main sights... Old Town, the astronomical clock, the Charles Bridge, etc. Then in the afternoon, I did a walking tour of Prague Castle, which is apparently the largest castle complex in the world. It. Was. Incredible. ALSO I SAW THE CZECH PRESIDENT THERE!!! His offices are there and he was in his car driving away from the building! The tour guide confirmed it for us (mostly because, in the words of Derrick Testa, "If I saw the Czech president, he'd have to be holding a sign that said, 'Czech President' in English for me to know who it was.") Regardless. So cool.
Today I went to legitimately two of the coolest museums I have ever been to in my life. First, the Museum of Communism was incredible. It had all this Soviet memorabilia and exhibits on life under Soviet rule... it was really, really cool. Then I went to the Kafka Museum, which I'm still sort of trying to process. It... I sort of can't explain it. That sounds so stupid. But the museum was one long...path, I guess, and you go through the Prague of Kafka's imagination. That sounds weird, but I legitimately can't think of another way to explain it. It was... wow. It was really good.
Tonight I'm going to a performance of The Nutcracker with my new Argentinean friends. For the equivalent of seven dollars. I. Love. Central. Europe.
Ugh. I have to leave tomorrow. Gross.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Last Day in Munich
Soooo today was my last day in Munich.
If you ever come to Munich, three days is definitely enough, in my opinion. I did two day trips (one of which only took half a day) and then one and a half days in Munich and I honestly feel like I exhausted the city. The only thing I didn’t do that I sort of wanted to was a science museum, which is supposedly pretty cool, but it’s a full day and I’ve been to the Museum of Science and Industry approximately 1,000 times in my life so it’s not like I’m unfamiliar with the concept.
I finally got around to a walking tour of Munich today (just one sponsored by my hostel). My tour guide spent the vast majority of the tour explaining why Munich is far superior to Berlin, which I totally disagree with. His main point was that Munich and Berlin are these polar opposites, and everywhere else in Germany falls somewhere between them on the line, and I think that argument is probably legitimate. However, I was on the totally opposite side of the pole from him. He broke down the differences by saying that Munich is old, stodgy, rich and conservative, while Berlin is young, hip, broke and liberal. (The same dinner – a bratwurst, fries, and a beer – cost me 16 euro in Munich and 7 in Berlin.) It honestly seems a total no-brainer to me which one anyone under the age of 50 would prefer, but he just went on and on about how great Munich is (and he was in his mid-20s and of African descent, so it’s not like he is what you would think of as the “typical” Bavarian). I mean, Munich is fine. I don’t dislike it, but I’m not having a love affair with it.
Munich is very much “stereotypically” German. They’re into beer, sausages and lederhosen (although they apparently have some kind of knock-out business sector now…. I read that independently, our tour guide didn’t really get into it). Today we saw some Nazi history (Hitler started in Munich… I feel like if Hitler started in MY hometown, I would NOT play up the fact that the city was politically conservative, I’d want to dial down that emphasis as much as humanly possible), the Glockenspiel (like a big clock that plays music and wooden characters dance), the main square, etc. I mean, it was fine. I suppose “bland” is the word I’m really looking for.
After that, I went to the Olympic Stadium (where the 1972 Games were held). Again… fine. Lovely landscaping, pleasantly manicured lawns, an impressive stadium, a nice memorial to the Jewish athletes who were taken hostage… fine. Although I did go into the swimming pool (Schwimhalle! Say it out loud, it’s fun), which made me SUPER nostalgic for (real) competitive swimming. I’d really like to go to the Olympics once in my life, even if I only go to the swimming events. London 2012, anyone?
Concluding my extraordinarily Munich day, at night I went to the Hofbrahaus (the largest beer hall in Germany and I’m fairly certain the world). We also went here on our tour because Hitler formed the Nazi party here (but it was NOT the site of the Putsch…that was destroyed in the war and never rebuilt). But going at night was quite a different experience, obvs.
I went with these three girls I met at my hostel, two Australians named Lara and Kate and one Argentinean girl named Agostina. We German’ed it up and got sausages and sauerkraut and noodles and beer. It was good times, but EVERYONE there (as I’m sure you can imagine) was a tourist. After that, we just went back to our hostel’s bar. Agostina has zero accent when she speaks English – she claims it’s because she learned how to speak English from American TV shows, which I suppose makes a lot of sense – so when she talks, she sounds totally American. We had a great time convincing some people from Florida that she was from New Jersey. They were totally nice and pleasant. Then they left, and some ACTUAL people from New Jersey sat down and started talking with us! We were excited to play our game with them, although they were telling us a lot about themselves without asking any reciprocal questions. They were total stereotypical Jersey guidos – I wondered if they were trying their hardest to be exactly like Pauly D and the Situation. We were getting antsy to try out Agostina’s accent on them, so finally Agostina said, “So, three guesses as to where I’m from?” and one of them responded, “Oh, don’t care, don’t care and uh… don’t care.” THANKS AMERICA. I’m glad you have turned these shining examples of your citizenry loose on Europe.
Agostina was going to Prague today as well, so we took the “Albert Einstein Express” together. I’m on it right now, actually (no internet but I’m typing this into a word document and I’ll copy/paste it into the blog when I’m somewhere with internet). Anyway, this train is hysterical. It goes about 50 km an hour and takes SIX HOURS to reach Prague (you could do it in 2 ½ if you had a car and were going a normal speed). There’s no like, rows of seats like you think of on a train – it’s all individual compartments, which I actually really enjoy. Anyway, I bought some food before getting on the train, but Agostina said she’d just buy from the restaurant car. She went searching and couldn’t find anything, but there are signs saying “Café” with a cup of coffee so she asked the security guy where the food was. He had very little English, but he conveyed to her that once we cross the Czech border, there will be a buffet.
…what?
We have no clue what this means. There’s no empty car where a buffet could be set up. Do we exit the train and have a buffet on the Czech platform? Is food loaded onto the train by Czech people? Did he just have no idea what he was talking about? We wait in fervent anticipation.
I’m also pretty sure we’re going through the Black Forest right now. I’ve always wanted to see it because my mom’s mom’s family comes from somewhere near here and it’s where the Grimm Brothers collected all their fairy tales. Guess I can now cross that off my list.
SIDENOTE: I realized today why I’ve met so many Australians. It’s their summer break! Duh!
If you ever come to Munich, three days is definitely enough, in my opinion. I did two day trips (one of which only took half a day) and then one and a half days in Munich and I honestly feel like I exhausted the city. The only thing I didn’t do that I sort of wanted to was a science museum, which is supposedly pretty cool, but it’s a full day and I’ve been to the Museum of Science and Industry approximately 1,000 times in my life so it’s not like I’m unfamiliar with the concept.
I finally got around to a walking tour of Munich today (just one sponsored by my hostel). My tour guide spent the vast majority of the tour explaining why Munich is far superior to Berlin, which I totally disagree with. His main point was that Munich and Berlin are these polar opposites, and everywhere else in Germany falls somewhere between them on the line, and I think that argument is probably legitimate. However, I was on the totally opposite side of the pole from him. He broke down the differences by saying that Munich is old, stodgy, rich and conservative, while Berlin is young, hip, broke and liberal. (The same dinner – a bratwurst, fries, and a beer – cost me 16 euro in Munich and 7 in Berlin.) It honestly seems a total no-brainer to me which one anyone under the age of 50 would prefer, but he just went on and on about how great Munich is (and he was in his mid-20s and of African descent, so it’s not like he is what you would think of as the “typical” Bavarian). I mean, Munich is fine. I don’t dislike it, but I’m not having a love affair with it.
Munich is very much “stereotypically” German. They’re into beer, sausages and lederhosen (although they apparently have some kind of knock-out business sector now…. I read that independently, our tour guide didn’t really get into it). Today we saw some Nazi history (Hitler started in Munich… I feel like if Hitler started in MY hometown, I would NOT play up the fact that the city was politically conservative, I’d want to dial down that emphasis as much as humanly possible), the Glockenspiel (like a big clock that plays music and wooden characters dance), the main square, etc. I mean, it was fine. I suppose “bland” is the word I’m really looking for.
After that, I went to the Olympic Stadium (where the 1972 Games were held). Again… fine. Lovely landscaping, pleasantly manicured lawns, an impressive stadium, a nice memorial to the Jewish athletes who were taken hostage… fine. Although I did go into the swimming pool (Schwimhalle! Say it out loud, it’s fun), which made me SUPER nostalgic for (real) competitive swimming. I’d really like to go to the Olympics once in my life, even if I only go to the swimming events. London 2012, anyone?
Concluding my extraordinarily Munich day, at night I went to the Hofbrahaus (the largest beer hall in Germany and I’m fairly certain the world). We also went here on our tour because Hitler formed the Nazi party here (but it was NOT the site of the Putsch…that was destroyed in the war and never rebuilt). But going at night was quite a different experience, obvs.
I went with these three girls I met at my hostel, two Australians named Lara and Kate and one Argentinean girl named Agostina. We German’ed it up and got sausages and sauerkraut and noodles and beer. It was good times, but EVERYONE there (as I’m sure you can imagine) was a tourist. After that, we just went back to our hostel’s bar. Agostina has zero accent when she speaks English – she claims it’s because she learned how to speak English from American TV shows, which I suppose makes a lot of sense – so when she talks, she sounds totally American. We had a great time convincing some people from Florida that she was from New Jersey. They were totally nice and pleasant. Then they left, and some ACTUAL people from New Jersey sat down and started talking with us! We were excited to play our game with them, although they were telling us a lot about themselves without asking any reciprocal questions. They were total stereotypical Jersey guidos – I wondered if they were trying their hardest to be exactly like Pauly D and the Situation. We were getting antsy to try out Agostina’s accent on them, so finally Agostina said, “So, three guesses as to where I’m from?” and one of them responded, “Oh, don’t care, don’t care and uh… don’t care.” THANKS AMERICA. I’m glad you have turned these shining examples of your citizenry loose on Europe.
Agostina was going to Prague today as well, so we took the “Albert Einstein Express” together. I’m on it right now, actually (no internet but I’m typing this into a word document and I’ll copy/paste it into the blog when I’m somewhere with internet). Anyway, this train is hysterical. It goes about 50 km an hour and takes SIX HOURS to reach Prague (you could do it in 2 ½ if you had a car and were going a normal speed). There’s no like, rows of seats like you think of on a train – it’s all individual compartments, which I actually really enjoy. Anyway, I bought some food before getting on the train, but Agostina said she’d just buy from the restaurant car. She went searching and couldn’t find anything, but there are signs saying “Café” with a cup of coffee so she asked the security guy where the food was. He had very little English, but he conveyed to her that once we cross the Czech border, there will be a buffet.
…what?
We have no clue what this means. There’s no empty car where a buffet could be set up. Do we exit the train and have a buffet on the Czech platform? Is food loaded onto the train by Czech people? Did he just have no idea what he was talking about? We wait in fervent anticipation.
I’m also pretty sure we’re going through the Black Forest right now. I’ve always wanted to see it because my mom’s mom’s family comes from somewhere near here and it’s where the Grimm Brothers collected all their fairy tales. Guess I can now cross that off my list.
SIDENOTE: I realized today why I’ve met so many Australians. It’s their summer break! Duh!
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Dear Germany, I Love You
So I’ve come to the conclusion that I love pretty much everything about this country (with the notable exception of its pretty appalling human rights record).
Seriously. I’ve been making notes on little things about Germany and little things that Germans do that I am just completely enamored with. It’s like we’re in the very beginning stages of a romantic relationship. Everything Germany does just enchants me and I want it to do more things just like it.
Here are the things I like about Germany:
1) They are extremely literal-minded and blunt. You know who else is extremely literal-minded and blunt? THIS girl. My mom’s mom was German, and my mom always used to say that Grandma Marge called it like she saw it. “She called a spade a spade,” I think is the phrase. There was no messing around with her. Things were what they were. GERMANY IS EXACTLY LIKE THAT. I’ve noticed that no one jaywalks here – like NO one. My good friend Andrew actually almost got arrested in Munich for jaywalking. So I brought this up to my cousin, Jay, in Heidelberg, and asked him what the deal was. Jaywalking seems like an extremely minor offense, you know? He told me that Germans are so literal-minded that this applies even to really minor laws like jaywalking. There’s no nuance. It’s black and white. It’s against the law, damnit, so don’t do it. Also, their train system? Their underground, etc, in their major cities? It’s not like every other metro system in the world where you buy a ticket and that ticket goes into an automated machine and only then are you allowed passage onto the train. It’s literally a good faith system. You buy a ticket but if you didn’t, you could still get on the train because there’s no turnstile or anything like that. Sure, they have ticket checkers check people on the train once in a blue moon, but they take it so for granted that everyone will follow the rules that they aren’t super stringent about enforcing them. The rules are clearly posted everywhere and everyone follows them. There is no mystery. I LOVE IT. Also, on a similar note, the word for sex translates literally to “genital traffic.” I AM OBSESSED WITH THIS COUNTRY.
2) They are also shockingly modest. Everyone speaks English. EVERYONE. But if you ask, they kind of look really shamed and say, “oh, little bit, “(everyone, without fail, says this exact phrase with the same look on their face), and then they start talking and they are fluent. Like, no bones about it fluent. But they don’t jabber at you and keep you around endlessly like the people in some countries I could mention. They tell you what you need to know or do and then your interaction is over. It’s incredible. No unnecessary embellishment or shooting the crap. I also act this way and so I feel completely at home here.
3) They are Type-A as HELL. I need to say no more to explain how this resonates with me, but I will point out that the very making of this list probably is a good example.
4) They love beer. Similarly little further explanation needed.
5) This is actually probably a story about Australia, but I learned it in Berlin and have kept forgetting to mention it. So the Australian embassy is in Berlin, except for three weeks of the year, when it moves to Munich. These three weeks correspond exactly with Oktoberfest. This suggests one of two conclusions to me: either Aussies get so hammered at beer festivals that they are in constant need of their embassy and so it’s just more efficient to move the whole shebang, or the embassy guys don’t want to miss out on the fun. I’m inclined to believe it’s a combination of both. Also, by including this paragraph I get to use my “Australia” tag again, which is great because I’m using that a LOT more than I thought I would. Also, my new Australian friends tried to get me to eat Vegemite last night. They succeeded. It was revolting. It was kind of funny – they were all gathered around this table, trying to get the American to eat Vegemite, and then I reacted probably exactly the way they thought I would. They also told me that I am their favorite American. This is probably because I have been really adamant about explaining my love for Obama and dislike for Bush to them, so they know I’m not one of “those” Americans.
So although I for reals for reals love Germany, not super obsessed with Munich. I mean, it’s okay. It’s no Berlin. Berlin was phenomenal. It was so full of history and culture and it was hip and happening all that crap. Munich has some stuff, but I’ve mostly just done day trips. I went to the Disney castle yesterday and Dachau today (also super depressing but I’ve already done the concentration camp entry) and then just wandered around the English Gardens (Central Parkish) today. I’ve actually been doing things kind of backwards – not going on a city tour til tomorrow because just of the way it’s panned out with people wanted to do things on certain days, etc. So tomorrow is my last day in Munich and also the only one I’ll spend the majority of the day in Munich proper. I’ll be fine with moving on.
But Germany, it will be so hard to leave you. Sigh.
Seriously. I’ve been making notes on little things about Germany and little things that Germans do that I am just completely enamored with. It’s like we’re in the very beginning stages of a romantic relationship. Everything Germany does just enchants me and I want it to do more things just like it.
Here are the things I like about Germany:
1) They are extremely literal-minded and blunt. You know who else is extremely literal-minded and blunt? THIS girl. My mom’s mom was German, and my mom always used to say that Grandma Marge called it like she saw it. “She called a spade a spade,” I think is the phrase. There was no messing around with her. Things were what they were. GERMANY IS EXACTLY LIKE THAT. I’ve noticed that no one jaywalks here – like NO one. My good friend Andrew actually almost got arrested in Munich for jaywalking. So I brought this up to my cousin, Jay, in Heidelberg, and asked him what the deal was. Jaywalking seems like an extremely minor offense, you know? He told me that Germans are so literal-minded that this applies even to really minor laws like jaywalking. There’s no nuance. It’s black and white. It’s against the law, damnit, so don’t do it. Also, their train system? Their underground, etc, in their major cities? It’s not like every other metro system in the world where you buy a ticket and that ticket goes into an automated machine and only then are you allowed passage onto the train. It’s literally a good faith system. You buy a ticket but if you didn’t, you could still get on the train because there’s no turnstile or anything like that. Sure, they have ticket checkers check people on the train once in a blue moon, but they take it so for granted that everyone will follow the rules that they aren’t super stringent about enforcing them. The rules are clearly posted everywhere and everyone follows them. There is no mystery. I LOVE IT. Also, on a similar note, the word for sex translates literally to “genital traffic.” I AM OBSESSED WITH THIS COUNTRY.
2) They are also shockingly modest. Everyone speaks English. EVERYONE. But if you ask, they kind of look really shamed and say, “oh, little bit, “(everyone, without fail, says this exact phrase with the same look on their face), and then they start talking and they are fluent. Like, no bones about it fluent. But they don’t jabber at you and keep you around endlessly like the people in some countries I could mention. They tell you what you need to know or do and then your interaction is over. It’s incredible. No unnecessary embellishment or shooting the crap. I also act this way and so I feel completely at home here.
3) They are Type-A as HELL. I need to say no more to explain how this resonates with me, but I will point out that the very making of this list probably is a good example.
4) They love beer. Similarly little further explanation needed.
5) This is actually probably a story about Australia, but I learned it in Berlin and have kept forgetting to mention it. So the Australian embassy is in Berlin, except for three weeks of the year, when it moves to Munich. These three weeks correspond exactly with Oktoberfest. This suggests one of two conclusions to me: either Aussies get so hammered at beer festivals that they are in constant need of their embassy and so it’s just more efficient to move the whole shebang, or the embassy guys don’t want to miss out on the fun. I’m inclined to believe it’s a combination of both. Also, by including this paragraph I get to use my “Australia” tag again, which is great because I’m using that a LOT more than I thought I would. Also, my new Australian friends tried to get me to eat Vegemite last night. They succeeded. It was revolting. It was kind of funny – they were all gathered around this table, trying to get the American to eat Vegemite, and then I reacted probably exactly the way they thought I would. They also told me that I am their favorite American. This is probably because I have been really adamant about explaining my love for Obama and dislike for Bush to them, so they know I’m not one of “those” Americans.
So although I for reals for reals love Germany, not super obsessed with Munich. I mean, it’s okay. It’s no Berlin. Berlin was phenomenal. It was so full of history and culture and it was hip and happening all that crap. Munich has some stuff, but I’ve mostly just done day trips. I went to the Disney castle yesterday and Dachau today (also super depressing but I’ve already done the concentration camp entry) and then just wandered around the English Gardens (Central Parkish) today. I’ve actually been doing things kind of backwards – not going on a city tour til tomorrow because just of the way it’s panned out with people wanted to do things on certain days, etc. So tomorrow is my last day in Munich and also the only one I’ll spend the majority of the day in Munich proper. I’ll be fine with moving on.
But Germany, it will be so hard to leave you. Sigh.
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