One More Month

On June 8, I will be flying back to the United States for the summer. Although I'm sure with time and distance I will miss Vienna terribly, I am currently very happy with my ticket purchase and - more importantly - with my decision to go home.

I've been debating whether or not to do the summer camp for a second year. I decided against it, since, when I'm honest with myself, I am quite homesick. My parents are coming to visit on May 25, and that will cheer me up. I thought I might want a bit of time to myself after they left, perhaps another week to say goodbye to Vienna on my own. My living situation unfortunately does not allow for that, so my decisions are not my own, at least not entirely.

Since this is my last year with the teaching program, and I have not pursued a means to stay in Austria, I will not be coming back to Vienna to live anytime soon, but I will be in Europe (France) again next year. After some thought, I've decided this feels right to me. I need a familiar change in my life. That sounds like an oxymoron, but it's not. I need a situation different from the one I'm in, but not so different that it will be worse. Thus, I would like to do something I'm familiar with, but haven't done before. This precludes moving back home to Green Bay, at least permanently.

Frohes Fest!

Christmas time is here at last! My flight home leaves tonight...But, by this time tomorrow, I will be in Chicago...or on my way back to Green Bay! And that's exciting. Too bad I'm missing "real" Christmas at home. But, I have not missed Christmas in Austria, even though I am traveling on the 25th.

It should be noted for those Americans reading this blog that in Austria (and other parts of Europe, of course) that Christmas is not celebrated on the 25th, like we are used to, but on the 24th.

Last year's X-mas tree in WI

My personal theory is that the midnight mass on the 24th (so, the beginning of the 25th) was such an important part of the celebration that, when people stopped wanting to stay up until midnight for mass, they just moved it up to an earlier time on the 24th  - but gifts are opened on the 24th as well. And the Christkind (actually an angel, not the newborn baby Jesus) brings the presents, sort of like Santa Claus, but the kids just leave the room for 15 minutes and come back and there are miraculously presents sitting under the tree. Personally, I think it's a lot easier on the parents to just make the kids go to bed and wait until morning - if you're naughty and sneak out of bed, you break the deal anyway...

Sometimes December 25th is a day to visit family in Austria. Other times, they just don't do anything. And on the 26th (St. Stephen's Day), they go back to church. St. Stephen was a very important saint in Austria.

So, what did I do on Christmas Eve - considering I'm still Amstetten until this evening? I did a little channel surfing, and discovered The Last Unicorn (dubbed into German, of course) was playing on RTL. Very Christmas-y, if you ask me.

The Last Unicorn was my absolute favorite cartoon when I was little. The last time I saw it was as a college Freshman when I brought it back to the dorm from the Appleton Public Library and tortured my friends with it. Totally worth it. Although, I did realize how child inappropriate this film is. Lots of cartoon nudity and heavy subjects. But it is still awesome. In a cornball Peter S. Beagle fantasy way. The German version was totally better, too. Basically, I can't watch American movies in Germany/Austria because they are always dubbed, and it pisses me off when the lips and the voice of the actors do not sync. I have no fear of that in cartoons, however. The German versions of cartoons are actually better. The Simpsons, anyone?


After The Last Unicorn, I went to midnight mass (actually at 11 - wimps) and, this, too, seemed improved by being in Austria. First, the church itself is old and really cool. Second, since I am unfamiliar with the Apostle's Creed, the Lord's Prayer, etc., in German, trying to follow the mass kept me on my toes. Third, the music is better. It's not this dopey new wave Christian Youth stuff, but real music, but Haydn and Handel and Mozart and other composers.

Considering this, my early New Year's resolution is to go to church more - in Austria. A) It is a great way to pick up some German vocab. B) It might be an OK way to meet people. C) I joined the church choir, and must admit, I have not actually shown up to mass to sing with them (but I do go to the practices on Monday nights). After half the choir and two teachers at school asking me why I don't go to mass and sing with the choir, I realized that church choirs sing at church. And as a member, I am expected to do the same. My bad.


One question: if God knows everything, can he tell when I'm being facetious?

Revanche! Relance!

CDG - mid bomb scare

Paris: AIEEE!

First, I get into Charles de Gaulle at 1:30 pm and figure I need to mail one of my suitcases, because I am definitely over the baggage weight  limit for a within-Europe puddle-jumper. So, expecting I will have to mail my suitcase to Amstetten, I walk over to the Austrian Airlines kiosk (after asking at 3 *other* information booths) and the guy takes one look at my bags & says that my stuff is all too big to fit on the plane & it will cost 15 euro per kilo over limit (20 kg is the limit - I have at least 50 kilo to schlepp around) so I kind of freak out & then go find the post office in CDG. I get my 23 kilo bag out to mail to Amstetten for 68 euro and then schlepp the rest of my shit back up to the area where you can get on the Metro...

My carry-on luggage

What should happen then, but the French National Guard comes storming in, big burly guys with machine guns & tell everyone to get out of the airport area and they turn off the escalators and people run around screaming (well, OK, the French don't go running around screaming, but some less obnoxious, subtle, French version of that - if only for effect), and then finally they turn everything back on, and the crowd dissipates, and then I ask some old guy smoking his 10 millionth cigarette what just happened and he's like, "bomb."

GREAT! I know they had a bomb scare earlier in CDG, like two weeks ago or something, but, seriously, what is with this? Anyway, the army dudes apparently got the whole thing figured out & once the escalators were turned back on, we were all safe once again, and I could actually get down to the trains. So, I hopped on the RER Bleu to get to Gare du Nord and got to the Woodstock Hostel. So absolutely exhausted b/c slept max. 5 hours last night. Our stupid new neighbors leave their dog out all night right outside my bedroom window to bark its fool head off. Mom has taken to spraying it in the face with water every time it barks - including in the middle of the night! It did not help last night, but perhaps after a few weeks of old-fashioned Pavlovian training, she will get somewhere. At this point, I think, Detroit-Wayne has nothing on CDG. If you don't have to go to the airport, Paris is wonderful. If all you do is sit in the airport trying to figure out how you are going to get yourself AND your overweight baggage to Vienna, Paris sucks.

So once I get to the Woodstock, I take this picture of my bed:

Oh, sweet, dear, beloved bed!

But I can't go to bed right away. It is only 4:30 and I have to wait until bed-time like Rick Steves says, so my body can adjust to the time change in a healthy way & I won't be overly harried by jet lag. So, I figure I might as well introduce myself to my roommate, who is sitting outside smoking on the patio area, and from whom I had to get the key. It's only polite to introduce myself, right?

She's sitting with two other guys, and I can tell already she's German, even though she's speaking in English. She is talking nonstop in that funny way Germans have when they are speaking in English.  But, well, still charming. At least to me. I introduce myself and at first she thinks I am French (or speaks to me in French anyway) but I figure she is talking to someone who does not know French because they had been speaking in English. There are actually 3 people at the picnic table in the patio area: Christine, the German, Rasmus the Dane and Simon, who is from New Zealand. Well, I guess that explains why they're speaking in English. I think, OK, I'll introduce myself, chat for 20 minutes, and then grab something to eat from the sushi restaurant down the street, come back and go to bed before 6. Awesome plan, right?

Well, I sit down and start chatting, and we are all having an interesting conversation. The next thing I know, the sun is setting. I think, Oh, it's getting darker earlier. It's probably around 7. Then, we chat more. Christine tells me she is an occupational therapist in Paris on her vacation. Rasmus is a student planning on becoming a Kindergarten teacher, and Simon just competed in the Settlers of Catan world championship in Germany (playing for Australia, who came in 6th place - out of 30 teams). Who'd a-thunk? So, anyway, about 10 minutes after the sun goes down, I look at my phone to see what time it is, and it is already 9:30! OMG, I think. No wonder I'm tired! Minus the 2 hours I slept on the plane (half of Clash of the Titans and then an extra 45 minutes before they served a pre-landing snack), I have been up for 30 hours. I can hardly believe it.

The Flight: Chi-Town => Dublin

I took off from Chicago yesterday, and going through security, I saw this little Asian man with three cases of Jack Daniels from the duty free shops. All I can say is, if you're going to splurge in the duty-free shops (and get your money's worth out of it being duty-free), you might as well do it with Jack Daniel's. I'm sure the guy's some high-powered Japanese/Korean/Chinese businessman who needs copious amounts of whiskey to give as company presents, etc. But still~ that's a lot of booze!

So, in O'Hare, waiting to board, I sat across from this big, loud Irish family. The daughter was sitting directly across from me, a little hefty, with sort of typical Irish coloring (dark hair, blue eyes, freckles) and wearing this big black down puffer jacket making her look twice as big as she actually is. In light of my joint writing adventure with Callie, The Fat American (inquire if you dare!) I thought about a companion piece to be published in France, which could be titled, L'Irlandaise Grande and set in Chicago. Well, then again, maybe not. I just really like the title.

Once I got on the plane, this American woman who had been standing behind me for much of the check-in/security/boarding says to me, "I love your hair." And then her husband says, "As we say here, it's like a woolly lamb." Was this supposed to be complimentary? Where is "here"? Chicago? The US? Did they think I'm Irish? Anyway, they were the average middle-aged couple going on some sort of vacation to the rolling hills of Ireland, possibly pandering to some sort of idealized version of Gaelic tradition, and discretely reminiscent family histories (i.e. that great-great-uncle Seamus came into New York harbor in 1892 from County Cork with nary a possession in the world but the shirt on his back - the only thing he *didn't* drink away in the taverns of Kanturk). Not that I'm a cynic, or that I don't wish them a good time. Nothing of that sort.

My choice of in-flight movie was Clash of the Titans. I was debating between that and Remember Me with Robert Pattinson but considering the bizarre dream I had about going to summer camp and being bitten...don't really need to go into that...I decided that I would watch action-flick rather than romantic-flick because I would be almost guaranteed to fall asleep through romantic drivel. Plus, I've been wanting to see the new Clash. And, all I have to say is: Sam Worthington is definitely the new "it" boy for action-adventure, ever since Avatar was so huge! He kind of reminds me of a Bruce Willis type - but Australian and better looking. I ended up falling asleep during that one anyway. Very disappointed there was no mechanical owl. Also, Liam Neeson ain't no Lawrence Olivier (even old man Olivier) and Ralph Fiennes is obviously being type-cast as the evil snake-like villain ever since he played Voldemort - or maybe he will just do anything if the price is right. I am also including The Reader in this type-casting thing. He was really mean to Kate Winslet's pseudo-sociopath ex-Nazi, which I thinkis saying something.

Once I got to Dublin, I got through security, and as I put my shoes back on, this little old man in a plaid jacket came up to me and asked for help finding his gate. On the ticket, he was pointing to the time the flight took off, so I figured maybe he was not familiar with flying? Or English? So, I told him to check his flight number and destination on the screens that are all around the airport, and that the gate is only listed on one of those monitors...because the airplanes normally don't know which gate they're flying into until they actually get to the airport. Well, the last I saw of him, he was standing in front of the screen checking it out, so hopefully he got to where he was going.




Looking for my own gate, I realized there was still 2 hours to go before I could board, so I went to have breakfast at this Starbucks-type place. All the workers have dialects of which I am ignorant and we are mutually unintelligible. I have to point to what I want, and they have to point to what I owe on the cash register. I really didn't think I'd have to deal with this until I got to France. So much for not having to worry about a language barrier in another English-speaking country!

<-- This is what I ordered. Egg & Mushroom sandwich that was really gross & weird. Complete w/brown sauce.

Tomorrow! Tomorrow!

Tomorrow is another day.

Tomorrow is the day I fly to Paris! How exciting.

I am packed & ready to go!

There's really not much more to say.

...a nod to Schubert

Hello!...or, should I say "Gruess Gott" or something similarly Austrian??

This is my blog about Austria,

where I will be teaching on a Fulbright!

Or, rather, a Fulbright-type position.

I will be leaving September 19, to start school on October 4. I will be teaching English to high school students and I AM EXCITED! I have only been to Austria once, when I was studying abroad in Berlin. I went to Vienna for a weekend with my friend Angela. It was awesome! We basically went to churches, farmers markets and wine shops...my idea of a vacation!

The title of my blog is lifted from Schubert's Der Wanderer. Completely appropriate, wouldn't you agree? I will attempt to document my life in Austria and discipline myself to actually update it. In the past, I have not been the most, um, dedicated to blogging. My resolution is to write something at least twice a month...let's see how well I do by mid-November.

I don't quite know what it is that turns me off about blogging. Maybe it's the tech part. When I have *better things* to do (apologies) I am really bad at sitting in front of a computer and recounting all the crap I did. Also, the last time I actually kept a diary, I was thirteen...

Not that I don't love to write! I love to write. I live to write. I am happiest when I write. I just never seem to get the hang of writing about myself. It all seems so boring and trite when it comes down to me, my Bic pen and a leather-bound journal. With fictional characters, there's always a veneer of protection...these are Character X's emotions, situations and complications, not mine! These problems are fake (with grains of truth) and these emotions are what I would feel if I were experiencing these things...when everything steps back into the indicative, I feel too exposed, too embarrassed to admit my pondering to a public audience.

But, hey, blogs are the wave of the future! They make you hip, and interesting, and somehow legitimize your time abroad. If you don't have a blog, people think you just lied about going abroad and have just holed up in your room, being weird and antisocial.

With this in mind, I feel I can save more insights such as these for when I am actually in Austria.

Viel Vergnuegen!