My Yugoslav Tour Diary Part 1

During the marathon Easter break all the Austrians and I got from school and work (three weeks from university and two weeks from school!) I went to Slovenia and Croatia with Emily, a Fulbrighter who lives in Linz, and Matt and Amber, who are teaching assistants and also live near Linz.

I had wanted to go to Lake Bled since I saw it on Travels with Rick Steves (a recurring theme in my life) and left a day early to go see it. The town was unimpressive and was basically a lot of big hotels/resorts (though my hostel was in a more rustic part of town... the chickens across the street made the whole area smell like a petting zoo), but the lake itself was beautiful. I took an overpriced boat ride on an electric pletna out to Slovenia's only island to see the church, ring the wishing bell, and walk down the 99 stairs that grooms are supposed to carry their brides up. It's said that if the newly-wed husbands can handle that then they can handle a lifetime of marriage..

I also walked the entire way around the lake and saw Tito's villa (I imagine this as the Yugoslav Camp David), lots of swans, the mountain featured on Slovenia's flag, and even made a friend. I forgot what his name was, but he sold me a 4 Euro painting and spoke in giggles and what was probably not broken, but rather drunken, English.

Oh yeah, and I ate cake for breakfast (a Bled specialty called kremšnita).

The next day I met up with Emily, Matt, and Amber in Ljubljana. I had already seen the big sights back in December, so I wasn't in the efficient traveler mode that I usually am. The weather was pretty nasty, so I only took a few pictures. I think the one below of the pastry display case best illustrates the approach I took to my second stay in Ljubljana. I did make a trip to the City Museum, which had an exhibit on Picasso's graphic art and an oddly compelling display about a few Slovene hippy communes.

Fortunately the weather in Piran (which I took a daytrip out to a day after Matt and Emily did- I felt really sick when they went) was beautiful. Slovenia has 40 km of coast and  I had never seen the Adriatic and wasn't disappointed. The town was adorable and like a mini-Venice with cleaner water. You can even go scuba diving here. One of the buildings in this picture is a dive shop, which I knew had to be close when I smelled drying rubber (wetsuits) and found myself thinking about my dad.  The tower in this picture is the lighthouse. Told you it was adorable!

I spent the day in Piran wandering through alleys and onto squares,

eating ice cream and drinking wine for lunch, peeking into churches,

taking pictures of myself,

and happening onto a period movie set. The movie turned out to be about the Italian occupation of Slovenia during WWII (look for Piran, Pirano in Eastern European theaters next year), and on the way out of town I ran into two extras. One posed with me and the other was nice enough to let me wear his hat and hold his gun. How friendly!

The next day Emily, Amber, Matt, and I left Ljubljana for Zagreb, the capital of Croatia. On our way out of town we went on the first half of a FREE walking tour and ate a four-course lunch at a Chinese restaurant. We even made it to the train station with plenty of time to spare, and the tickets turned out to be cheaper than we expected. With a beginning like this, the day had the potential to be great.

Until we got to the Croatian border, that is. As for the rest of this story, I really wish I were making it up.

I'll just go ahead and say it... I forgot my passport. How? I have no idea. It should have been (and from now on always will be) the first thing I grabbed when packing, but after being within the Schengen zone (the part of Europe where you don't need to show a passport to cross borders) for so long, I guess I just didn't think about it. Everyone had assured me that it probably wouldn't be a problem.

The moment the police boarded the train, though, I knew it wouldn't be ok. I gave the police officer my Austrian residency permit, explained that I had forgotten my passport, and got off the train, terrified, when he told me I would have to go home and get it. Emily offered to stay with me, but there really wasn't anything she could do to help me so I told her not to.

The police officer turned out to be a nice guy, didn't fine me (he could have), and helped me figure out the train schedules to get home. Unfortunately the next train didn't leave for two hours, and the border town of Dobrova left a lot to be desired (the picture isn't of Dobova, but of another tiny town called Zidani Most, which is a transfer point where I also spent a lot of time over the next few days). So I did what anyone else in my situation would do, and went across the street to drink a liter of beer at a bar.

I caught the train at 7 PM all the way to Maribor, where I was supposed to transfer to the train that would take me back to Graz. Of course the last train to Graz was at 6:30 PM, and by the time I arrived in Maribor it was already 9 PM.

I went to the only hostel I knew of in Maribor, but no one would answer the door. I called the phone number posted by the door bell. The owner answered, but explained that she was out at a strip club. She very kindly invited me to join, but I asked for other hotel recommendations instead. Before she could give me directions my phone died.

At this point I was stranded in an unfamiliar city with a dead cell phone and heavy suitcase, feeling completely defeated. I walked back to the train station to try to find an outlet to charge my phone, but couldn't find one anywhere. I had almost resigned myself to spending my first night in a train station when I spotted an outlet behind a vending machine. Somehow I was able to pull the vending machine out so I could crawl behind it (I think it was a similar kind of moment to when mothers lift cars to save their children), charge my phone, and call back the strip-clubbing hostel owner to get directions to another hotel, which I immediately walked to and got a room.

The next morning I took the first train to Graz and grabbed my passport before turning right back around and taking the train to Zagreb. This was quite possibly my worst travel nightmare ever, but it certainly did feel like much more of an accomplishment when I crossed the Croatian border, and this trusty little document will never be forgotten at home again.

Gösting

Some days are more Austrian than others. 

A couple weeks ago I took advantage of a really beautiful day (the birds were singing, the sun was shining, children were laughing) to hike up to some castle ruins in a nearby village called Gösting.

Within the ruins there's a stone chapel. I'm guessing the shields on the walls depict the heraldic symbols of former important Styrian families, because I didn't recognize the shields of any cities or provinces. Austrians are sort of like a lot of middle-aged high school quarterbacks. They love to reminisce about the bygone glory days. 

Running around the castle grounds with high-fructose fruit drinks in hand and no parental supervision in sight was a group of wild/really cute kids (substitute "discipline" for "parental supervision" and you have Austrian schools... more about that later). What made them REALLY Austrian, though, was the fact that the leader of the pack was wearing Lederhosen. 

Styria is a pretty traditional place. It's not all that rare to see people walking around in Tracht (traditional dress), though it's usually for a special occasion, like a banquet. You (meaning Austrians, not me) can tell a lot about a person from their Tracht, especially from a Dirndl, like where they come from, marital status, and sometimes even family. So owning a pair of Lederhosen isn't rare, but using a pair as play-clothes for a five year old is.

Walking up to the castle and waiting to take a picture of the kid in Lederhosen without looking like I was taking a picture of the kid (what if his parents suddenly came looking for him and wanted to know why I took a picture of their son? Explaining that I just wanted to post his picture on my blog wouldn't do much for damage control) made me thirsty and hungry, so I sat at the castle's outdoor tavern (which had an awesome view and I'd really like to take my family to when they come) and ordered a beer and sausage with mustard. To make this meal even more Austrian, when the server brought the plate out sans mustard and slightly rudely insisted that I hadn't ordered it I argued back ("Ich hab's DOCH mit Senf bestellt."). 

And at no point during the day did I feel like a dancing bear.

Ostern

Easter in Austria is really similar to Easter in the US. There are only slight variations.

Austrian kids get their pictures taken with the Easter bunny just like American kids do.

But in Austria the pictures are taken at the Easter market with a polka band playing under the neighboring tent.

 

It's the one Sunday in both countries when churches are full (you can see some of the spires in Graz in this picture).

But in Austria almost everyone's Catholic and you celebrate a lot longer. I got almost two weeks off from the Fashion School and Gymnasium and three weeks off from the university. This was how I got to spend Easter in Croatia with my Rick Steves guidebook and these lovely people.

Both countries have traditional foods that they eat on Easter. Americans eat ham at their Uncle Sonny's.

In Austria they eat Pinzen, which are small breads (surprise, surprise) that are sweetened and butter- or marmalade-flavored. They sell them at EVERY bakery.

 

And just like in the US, the Easter bunny brings Austrian kids lots of eggs and candy. Especially Lindt Goldhasen. 

I received three of these chocolate rabbits from various teachers and students. Some one couldn't help herself and ate the ears off of one on the way home from school. This is why the ears and head are strangely crinkled.

This last part isn't actually different from what happens in the US.

And the Winner Is...

There are times when I really like my job. Really, really like my job.

Right after the Oscars I did a lesson with 3b (the same class I had Thanksgiving breakfast with) about the Academy Awards. We talked about the fashion, the celebrities, and the winners. Then we did a listening exercise about what the academy is and how voting works. Next, we had our own Academy Awards.

I made two categories of movies and assigned a pair of students to each category. Each pair had to write an acceptance speech in case their movie won, so I taught them phrases like, "I'd like to thank...", "A big thank you to...", and "I appreciate the support of...".

Then we voted (each student got one vote for each category) and the winners had to deliver their acceptance speeches.

I wasn't expecting much from the speeches because the kids seemed
1) to be really confused
2) to be writing some pretty interesting speeches... I answered vocabulary questions like, "Ay-mee-lee, what means 'Kaninchen' in Englisch?" (it's rabbit... to be fair I did tell them they could thank whomever they wanted)
3) to have poured Red Bull all over their cereal that morning

So I was completely surprised when I announced the first winner and they all clapped and cheered for the students who won, who actually looked excited and prepared.

Even better, their speeches were really good. I had expected something along the lines of, "Today thank I the dog Fluffy," but what I got were things like, "We'd like to thank our team for being the best team ever. We couldn't have done this without you!" and, "A big thank you to our editors for working so hard. We really appreciate all you did!" These kids are only in their third year of English, but they'd obviously seen an acceptance speech or two before.

After each speech the class would applaud again without even being prompted. I'm not sure whether they were ever really confused or if they just always look lost, but what started as chaos turned out to be almost as good as the lessons I did on Michael Jackson and the No Pants Subway Ride (Google it).

Emily Lately

Here's are some things I've been doing lately:

1) Enjoying teaching. It's difficult to get up on Monday morning at 6 AM to be at school in time to teach the first lesson, but I really do like it. There are only two classes I dread going to, and I only have to go to each every two weeks.

I look forward to going to all the other classes. Most of the students are really nice and already speak pretty good English (even if it does sometimes still sound like nails scratching across a chalkboard when I hear my name pronounced "Ay-mee-lee"). Classes usually go pretty well because of this, but every once in a while I'll happen to teach about something they're really, really interested in and a lesson will go especially well. This happened when taught about Michael Jackson, defining terrorism, and last week, places with funny names.

I told them class 5c about American places like Idiotville, Oregon and then used an article from BBC about British towns and streets with names like "Crapstone" and "Butt Hole Road." It was an excellent vocabulary lesson and the students asked if they could have extra copies of the articles afterwards. If appealing to the tween-age sense of potty humor is what it takes for me to teach these kids an English word or two, then so be it.

And because I know Andrew at least is wondering where to find this article, here's the link:
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/23/world/europe/23crapstone.html?scp=1&sq=that%20road%20sign%20means%20something%20else&st=cse

There are two girls at the Gymnasium that are really, really sweet and invited me to go see Alice im Wunderland (yep, that's Alice in Wonderland auf Deutsch) with them. I've heard no-so-good things about it in English, but I think because I saw it in German and therefore wasn't paying as much attention to the dialogue as I was to the visuals that I enjoyed it more.


2) Giving private English lessons and making BANK.

I tutor the son of one of the teachers at the Fashion School who is 14. He has a rock band called "Metal of Wood" and a voice that cracks every other word. I also tutor a student from the Fashion School who gives Tupperware parties on the weekends to finance her singing lessons. And I give Business English lessons to a man named Helmut (he's the neighbor of a teacher at my roommate Zach's school and Zach didn't want to give lessons). I was a little nervous about doing Business English, but I just assign him articles from the New York Times, BBC, CNN, etc. to read every week and then we discuss them. He seems to be happy with the lessons because he and his wife have given me my OWN pair of houseshoes at their apartment and have invited me to go to the south of Styria, which is wine country, with them and a group of friends in a few weeks.


3) Taking courses at the university. I'm doing a German course (long over-due), a course about Vienna around 1900, Intercultural Communication, and the Political System of Austria in the Context of Europe. The German course is mostly conversation, so I'm slowly regaining some of the social skills I lost in the depths of winter.

4) Opening my windows. It's spring and it's WARM! Open windows are a luxury I'm trying to enjoy before I go back to the 406 (likewise I'm enjoying the facts that the TV and the hair dryer can be on at the same time and that multiple police cars aren't parked outside the apartment complex across the street every weekend).


5) Alternately counting down the days until I finish teaching (65) and making frantic lists of all the thing I want to do before I leave while panicking that I won't be able to do them. At the top of the short-list is taking a trip down to the Dalmatian coast in Croatia.

In the spirit all this panicking, for the past two weekends I've done some sight-seeing in Graz. I went to the Armory, which was surprisingly informative and interesting It was built in the 16th century and STILL houses 32,000 weapons and pieces of armor, including this suit for a horse, that were used to outfit Styrian militias. Graz's claim to fame is that this is the largest historical armory in the world (I've lived in very important places- A League of Their Own was filmed in Evansville). I also went to the Volkskunde Museum (like a museum of regional culture) and the Kunsthaus (the art museum, which is called the "friendly alien" because it looks like a spaceship and had an exhibit on capturing speed in art).
Today I took a walk around the old town and saw this guy, apparently a Turkish soldier, sticking out from under an awning. This was the highlight of my day.

Next Time I'll Pack My Galoshes

According to google image search, Antwerp looks something like this:

Looks nice, doesn't it? Blue skies, beautiful buildings, people outside enjoying the sunshine.

False advertising, I say.

We had one free day during our time in Belgium, so some of us took a day trip to Antwerp. Our experience was more something like this:

 (disregard the fact that this is an image from a Texas tropical storm- a google image search of "torrential downpour" didn't yield anything dramatic enough)

After missing the train that the boys were on (when the alarm went off I told myself "5 more minutes" for about an hour) and running through the streets of Brussels to catch the next train, I was already soaked. Gergely had borrowed my umbrella earlier in the week and I hoped he had it with him in Antwerp.

Antwerp is only about 45 minutes from Belgium, and I was really excited to go because I heard they had a beautiful cathedral and large collection of paintings by the Flemish Primitives (who am I to pass up a good triptych?). The city seemed even more promising within the dry comfort of the train station, which is absolutely gorgeous. The women at the tourist office were really nice and helpful. They gave me three different maps and directions to the museum and the cathedral.

As soon as I stepped outside to go find the boys, though, the day lost its promise. It was not only raining hard and relentlessly, but it was also freezing. There were deep and unavoidable puddles everywhere and wind that somehow seemed to come from the ground up, blowing the rain and puddles into my face. I'm not sure that I've ever seen weather this miserable.

So I ducked into the first interesting building I could find, which happened to be the Diamond Museum. I went through the exhibits with the audio guide, which was informative but really long, and learned about the chemical composition, mining, and trade of diamonds (Antwerp is the Diamond Trade capital- more than half of all diamonds pass through here, which is why the city is wealthy enough to have a train station like that). There were plenty of pieces of jewelry on display that made my eyes light up and caused an "Ooooh pretty!" or two to escape me, like this peacock brooch:

 

But of course, noticeably absent was any mention of the violence and exploitation surrounding the diamond trade in Africa (there was one little blurb that said, "Diamond mining used to be dangerous."). Some things you just can't put a positive spin on.

After the Diamond Museum I decided to go meet up with the others and somehow ran into them in a subway station. They had apparently tried to get directions from the women at the tourist office, who both spoke great English, but were themselves unable to form coherent questions (instead of asking for a restaurant that served hamburgers, one of them gestured with his hands and said, "Bun, meat, bun!"). They had no idea where they were going and had apparently spent the last two hours at a place called "Boston Steak House." Luckily I had 3 maps.

The rest of the day was spent in the cathedral and the museum, running from awning to awning with our heads down to avoid the needles of rain (turns out Gergely forgot the umbrella). So I've included a picture of 4 of the 5 (George was the photographer) of us as we waited to get on a tram. Unlike in Austria the tram didn't smell like ham, but like a mixture of wet dog and gummy bears. I prefer ham.

As a result, I don't know what the buildings and streets of Antwerp look like. I did snap this one picture of the cathedral as we ran away, though, and this one of some windows in the interior.
  


The museum didn't have as large a collection as I expected but was warm and dry. Plus, we saw some great paintings, like this one by Jan van Eyck.

Despite the weather it was a fun day. We didn't stay any longer than necessary, though, because we all had boots, coats, and pants to go home and dry (my boots aren't tie-dyed, they're soaked). Consider yourselves all forewarned that February is monsoon season in Belgium.

In Bruges (celver, huh?)

Michelangelo!

Swans on canals!

 

WAFFLES!

  

We spent a day in Bruges for the official purpose of visiting the College of Europe, which offers masters degrees in "European Studies" (but should really be called "European Union Studies"). It was interesting, but as Maggie, the director of the Fulbright Commission in Belgium, said, it's a "quasi-academic institution" so I won't say much about it. 

I will say more about exploring Bruges, though, because it's one of my favorite cities (we went on European Studies, too) and this was one of only two days we had much free time. 

After lunch we went on a tour of the city, which looking at this picture I apparently listened to very intently.

 

We saw the cathedral with the only Michelangelo in Northern Europe, the beautiful Pieta above (that I also took blurry pictures of two years ago), the main square with its many different styles of architecture (Late Gothic, Renaissance, Baroque, Neo-Classical, and modern to name a few), the church that supposedly houses a vial of Christ's blood (a golden detail on this church's exterior is below), and I was reminded of a lot of the things I learned on Euro Studs, like the fact that the town hall (behind me in the "intent" picture) was the first secular building built in the Gothic style.

I like Bruges because most of the buildings are from the 14th and 15th century and are really well preserved. Canals wind through the city and swans (which are much bigger and scarier animals than you might think) float across them. There are chocolate and waffle shops on every corner. It's always full of tourists, but then again, I'm a tourist, so can I really complain?

Another highlight of the day was matching up people from the group with their Euro Studs and Sewanee doppelgängers. The girl in the picture to the right was 100% Ceci-she was REALLY nice and started conversations with sentences like "I like cheese." (the guy in the picture is Gergely, who lives in Vienna), there was a guy with Arijit's voice and mannerisms- I heard him speak and seriously turned around ready to ask what room he and Derek were staying in, and one of the journalists was what I imagine Prestia was like in his 20s- smart, well-dressed, and full of witty and snide comments and a geographical history that was impossible to unravel. I'm also pretty sure he owned a cravat.
This is unrelated, but there was also a girl that I couldn't talk to because 1) she was really loud and excited and I got tired just being around her and 2) she looked like the Cheshire Cat.

After the tour Gergely, Allison/Ceci, and I bought waffles and chocolate. But unlike the last time I went to Bruges I didn't have a hotel room sit in all day and watch 7th Heaven while eating the chocolates with Derek. 

Bruges also brought back other fond memories, like having close personal contact with Ceci during any sort of exchange,

and "borrowing" a wheel chair from the Musee des Beaux Arts on behalf of Alyssa and taking turns pushing each other through the streets of town. 

Sweet memories.