Printemps à Paris Day One

We kicked off our Spring break extravaganza in Paris. I had horrible memories of Paris from when I was there in 1999. There were no bathrooms everywhere. The whole city was subject to public urination. They ate frogs. It was dirty. Dog poop was everywhere. So I was really setting up Beth, who had dreamed of going to the City of Lights ever since she was a little girl, for disappointment.

Fortunately for both of us, I was totally wrong about Paris. It was gorgeous, beautiful and magical. The food was delicious, the buildings were lovely, the grass was green and the sunlight glittered on the surface of the Seine. Trés Romantic.

Beth and I triumphantly got off our exhausting night train and navigated the metro to find our hostel. We fet very successful. First things first, we walked to the Notre Dame, eating so many pastries and bread on the way. Our hostel was in a very hip neighborhood with tons of bars, bistros, crêpe stands, and a market with stalls full of delicious things and disgusting looking seafood. There was also a bubble tea house, where we indulged in bubble tea twice durring our stay.

Notre Dame on the inside looked remarkably like the Cathedral in Prague, only much more enormous and cavernous. It took us an hour (although we were walking slowly) to see everything. Every nave was stuffed full of carvings, stained class, paintings and decorations. I took my first two graphite etchings, where I laid a thin piece of paper down on some texture and rubbed it with a stick of graphite. I did this all over Europe and was terrified that I would get yelled at for publicly defacing a bunch of 500 year old churches. Fortunately, nobody said anything.

Afterwards we went for lunch in a tiny little bistro and felt very fancy, especially since they don't really serve Fanta in Paris, they serve Orangina instead, and it came in the little glass bottle. Beth really was happy to feeling so French.

The Musee d'Orsay was next. We stayed there until closing. I was jumping for joy at every corner, particularly to see one my favorite paintings in the world, Manet's Olympia. Other highlights included seeing Manet's Luncheon on the Grass, and Matisse's Luxe Calme et Volupté. There is nothing in the world I love more than seeing Impressionist and Post-Impressionist art, and for that reason, the Musee d'Orsay is number 2 on my list of top 5 favorite Museums in the world. (Number one is Art Institue of corse.)

I was so tired and sleepy after the first day I fell asleep at 9:30. This becomes a theme of the trip.

Obama on a Golden Ball

I had a nice time, after traveling for two weekends in a row, staying home in Salzburg. We were also having to think about planning our spring break, which me and Beth were avoiding with a vengeance. It is a miracle that we ended up with any hostels, train and plane tickets at all. I really have Beth to thank for everything, she was the travel queen.

We had an assignment for German class to research a statue in Salzburg, go visit it, and then write a paper about it. I chose a very interesting and unusual statue of a man standing on top of a giant gold ball. The only way I can describe it is "random". The man also has a very tiny wife carved out of wood who is set into a cove in the Mönchsberg above the tunnel entrance. When we were in London we saw another pair of statues by the same artist. My host mom said she thought the statue was fitting for the city of Salzburg because it looks like a man standing on a giant Mozart Kugel. My friend Hannah said it looked like President Obama standing on a giant gold ball. Both are apt descriptions.

Hannah was a student at Salzburg college last year, and after traveling around Europe for a while, and having a terrible failed experience as an Au-Pair, it was time for her to go back to the US. We were sad to see her go, but we decided to send her off with a fancy cocktail party on the terrace of the Hotel Stein, where you can see a beautiful view of the old city of Salzburg and the Hohensalzburg fortress. The cocktails were 9 Euros each. That is like 75 cents a sip! Still they were delicious and worth it for the special occasion. Afterwords we went for a cheeper drink to meet Hannah's Austrian friend at an Irish Pub. Here in Austria, instead of doing Tequila shots with limes and salt, they do them with oranges and cinnamon. It is a revelation.

By the end of the week, I had caught the "case of Communism" illness from Will, and was very feverish and shaky. It took about two hours to get out of bed, walk two feet to the bathroom, and get a drink of water. Needless to say I didn't go with the group to Upper Austria the next day. I missed a lot of beautiful scenery and St. Florian's church which people are still talking about. I also missed the trip to the concentration camp Mauthausen which I was partially disappointed about missing and partially relived not have to see.

I made sure that I made a point of using my sick time to watch the very educational "Barbie Meerjungfrau" movie in German, where a surfing Barbie finds out she is actually a mermaid princess. The mermaid city bore a striking resemblance to Los Angeles, but I think that may have gone over the head of the two year old Austrian Beatrix.

Cloudy with a Chance of Communism

Our trip to Prague was marked by a lot of hysteria. I don't know if there was something in the water there (most likely absinthe), or if we just saw too much grey for one weekend, but we were in fits of hysterical laughter and misery for the entire trip.

It all started when we got on our first Czech train. We were already confused since we didn't have any inkling how to read the language and didn't have a single Czech Crown to our name, let alone know how many Crowns to a Euro. We couldn't buy a bottle of water in the creepy dingy train station that had a tattoo parlor in it. The only phrase we could think of to describe the chance of scenery was, "everything's Communism!"

We then got into a train car with "Pizza Box" seats in the compartment. They were basically just slabs of plastic that folded up and down. "Total unbequem" as our German class would say. The hysteria started when I squealed that I saw a chicken outside, and then laughed about it. Beth, Sebastian and I were still giggling about the Hyperbole and a Half cartoon about Kenny Loggins reading minds, and Will asked, "Does he have a mind Kindle?" More laugher ensued.

The train station was very confusing. There were moving walkways that went down hill. It was like a moving walkway and an escalator had a baby. How were you not supposed to fall down it? Then it was another drama to get our money changed. The ATMs only spit out huge 1000 Crown bills, but no vendors were willing to give that much change. Unfortunately, the same vendors demanded that every purchase be made in cash. After making fun of the Czech word for tickets "jizdenki" or something to that effect, we went on the underground and made it to our hostel.

Unlike the group that went to Prague the weekend before us, instead of going to a Pub Crawl and drinking ourselves into an oblivion, we decided to go to the Opera. Carmen was playing that night. Buying last minute tickets meant that we had to pay a fortune, but it was worth it. The opera house was filled with gilded Rococo carvings, and Carmen is my kind of opera. Drama, romance, fighting, betrayal, sexy dancing girls, fans, bullfights, murder, it was right up my alley. Carmen is a cold heartless man-eater. My favorite part was when Carmen's lover sings a whole song about his devotion to her, and she looks so touched, and then the stands up two seconds later and screams "You don't love me! If you really loved me you would desert the army and run away with me to the mountains!" I literally snorted with laugher. That's my kind of girl.

After the opera we were starving and bought some questionable and inedible sandwiches from a stand. We were hungry practically the whole time we were in Prague because we couldn't figure out where a good place to eat was, and we had too much pride to go to KFC. Mostly, we bought food from the little grocery/connivence store next to the hostel. Next to the hostel was also a wig shop with disembodied mannequin heads displaying hundreds of different kinds of wigs.

The next day, it was our plan to go on the free tour of Prague and learning some history about the city. But as soon as we saw how many people there were, our intrest waned, and we ducked out to wander around. We were freezing, and it was grey and snowy, so we went shopping for hats and gloves. I bought a big furry red hat. It made me blend in a little better with the Czech people, but when we got back to Salzburg it immediately made me stand out. We were trying to find something productive to do, such as go to an exhibit of Dali paintings, or even find Prague's Sex Museum, whatever that entails. But we didn't do any of that. We just walked around the city giggling like idiots.

We finally found our way to the bridge and then to the Cathedral, which was beautiful. Outside we saw a fenced off area of the courtyard with nothing in it but with a mysterious insignia on a sign on the fence. Will informed us that it was Prague's famous invisible gazebo, and we all stopped for a photo-op of this famous landmark. It was right after that we found the steps of hilarity, just a random flight of stairs leading down a hill that took us over an hour to walk down because we kept stopping, doubled over in laugher. Everything seemed more funny than it was. We took a group picture sticking out of little alcoves down the steps, and when we finished, passersby started clapping. I tumbled out and bruised my butt.

We then went to H&M to find cool clubbing outfits for our excursion to "Central Europe's Biggest Nightclub". Brittany had been looking forward to going to the club for weeks, when she thought it was the WORLD'S biggest nightclub. Finding out that not only was it not the world's biggest, but it was not even Europe's biggest was quite the let down. The second let down came when I found a very pretty, floaty dress that everyone was convinced would look amazing on me. For some reason, I had to have it. It was like, if I were only able to get that dress, all of my dreams would come true somehow. Unfortunately, it was way too small. So we went hunting for it in another H&M. It wasn't until coming back to Salzburg that we found out that the dress didn't even come in a bigger size. There was never any hope.

Exhausted, we went back to the hostel. That's when Will's "case of Communism" really started to hit. He was feverish and had a sore throat and was so tired and sick. We decided to throw the lame disappointment of a nightclub (with only 5 measly stories of dance floors) to the wayside, and stay in. It was just more giggling, uncomfortably close story telling, and silliness. We were all beat and drained the next day, and when we finally switched back from the Czech train to the Austrian ÖBB train, we almost cried with happiness.

I told the group when we were laughing hysterically that if we were not having as much fun on monday morning I would kill myself. Sebastian told me to start sharpening my knives. But lo-and-behold, on Monday i was collapsed on the ground with a fit of laughter. I was lamenting the fact that we didn't get to see anything historical by skipping out on the guided tour, like the Jewish quarter. Will said "It's just a cemetery!" So sad, but so true. The Communism giggles apparently followed us home.

Amusing Anecdotes

I was having a conversation in German today with Konrad about the Beginning German 1 class’s field trip to Ikea, when Jason turns to me and says, “You know, when you speak German you get a different exsperession on your face.” I immediately covered my face with my hands and said, “I do?” “Yes,” he explained, “when you speak English you are so happy and smiley, but when you switch to German you get very serious. It looks like someone just kicked your puppy.”

Felix, my seven-year-old host brother LOVES reading Garfield. He sometimes gets all the books out and spreads them on the floor and asks me to come read with him. I tell him “I will try, but I don’t know if I can read in German. And he answers, “That’s ok, I can’t read either.”

Shannon got an internship for next term with the SPÖ, the Socialist Party of Austria. She fears for her livelihood should there be another McCarthy era.

Roman Holiday

Rome was the first trip we went on, a chance to see something else in Europe, just as we were getting used to being in Austria. I for one wasn't really a fan of traveling. I am not saying we didn't have a good time. But I felt in a lurch the entire weekend. We had just figured out how to use the bus, where to eat, how to ask people for directions...now we were in an entirely different country where we didn't speak the language and we didn't know the culture. And the culture and mood of Italy is very different from that of Austria. In fact, that was our favorite part of the trip was being able to be loud and rowdy without attracting much attention. It was nice to be in a place where we didn't stand out as loud wacky Americans.

Rome was really different than I was expecting, mainly, it was dirtier. Italy as a whole is pretty dingy, especially compared to Salzburg with its social programs and its meticulous separating of trash and recyclables. Everything in Rome was covered in Graffiti. I was hoping it was just down near the train station, where things tend to be dingy in all cites, but the run-down creepiness didn't end there. Beggars and pan-handlers pepper the streets and harass you wherever you go. We were pretty much traumatized before going because of Phoebe's horror stories of Gypsy mothers pushing babies into your arms in order to rob you of your life's savings and passport. We didn't have any problems, but it kind of put us on edge.

We walked around the first day just getting the lay of the land, and we went to the Colosseum. We narrowly avoided paying for a private tour from a potentially creepy person just hanging out around outside the Colosseum offering to give tours to gullible tourists, and got in the crazy long line. It was very cold in the inside of the Colosseum and we all huddled together for warmth while waiting to get inside. It was beautiful inside, and the sunshine warmed us up right away. Even though we couldn't figure out where to stand for the audio tour, we still learned a lot about the construction of the building and about gladiators and all that jazz.

We saw lots of interesting stuff in Rome, and lots of interesting churches, but we hardly knew what anything we were looking at WAS. We didn't do any research before coming, and so if I hadn't learned about it in art history, I didn't know what I was looking at. Things were pretty beautiful though, the sun came out and everything glowed orange. One thing I loved about Rome was its beautiful sunsets.

The next day we went to the Vatican. Our entry to St. Peter's Basilica was put on hold because of Sebastian. Ever a eagle-scout, he decided it was a good idea to have a utility knife with him. Unfortunately, the Swiss guard did not agree. He had to stay outside.

St. Peter's was incredibly amazing and lavish. It put the Baroque churches in Salzburg which I was previously impressed by to shame. It was enormous, and overwhelmingly beautiful. There were elegant statues, beautiful domes and gold gold gold! Marigrace immediately dragged me over to look at the Pieta, wich was very moving. I walked around in silence for a long time, just gazing upward at all the carvings and frescoes.

We went to the Vatican Museum next, and Sebastian was able to rejoin the group. In the entry hall was a fake-out copy of the Laocoön. I was really disappointed with how small it was until we realized it was not real. The real one was much more satisfying, especially after how much I had studied it in Philosophy of Art.

We went to the Sistine Chapel wich is a part of the museum. There was no photography allowed, and you were supposed to not talk because it is a holy space. People were breaking all these rules and so guards and loudspeakers were yelling at them to behave. It was kind of a mood killer. The frescos were pretty impressive, but after seeing so many reproductions of them, it is weird to see them all together. The most impressive part was that the walls and the celling were totally bare of all decoration other than the paintings. It was all Trompe-l'oeil. The only problem with Trompe-l'oeil paintings is that they always look flatter in real life than they do in pictures, because when you move the illusion is broken.

We got gelato when we got out of the museums and walked around to make sure we saw all important sites and landmarks. We accidentally ran into the Pantheon while looking for dinner. We were so exhausted and beat by the time we actually found a place to eat that didn't turn us away because they were filled with reservations. After dinner we went to the Trevi Fountain which was all lit up and beautiful at night, and will was cheated out of his last Euros when he bought Valentines day roses for all of us. It was a sweet end to a beautiful and warm day in Italy.

Roma

An account of my trip to Rome will be forthcoming, but the Understanding Austria midterm is tomorrow, I have a German paper due Monday, and will be going to Prague this weekend to visit the World's Biggest Nightclub at Brittany's request. Hopefully I will not forget everything by then.

E-I-E-I-O

I pride myself on not getting heckled here in Austria very much. For some reason, Bethany often gets laughed at by little Austrian kids on the bus. I assume it's because she talks loudly in English and has shiny blond hair and a pink Nike backpack. She is always sad about appearing like a tourist, but has made peace with it and mostly ignores the kids.

However, yesterday I got heckled. And it was not so much for speaking English loudly (although the boys were laughing at that), it was for being extremely fascinated by a baby cow.

I will be the first to admit it, I am a city slicker. Born and raised. The country and its way of life and all its animals and it muddiness completely escapes me. There are some people on this trip that live in the country, and even live on farms. Marigrace's brother keeps cows. But on our trip to the Winklhof Agricultural School, I was pretty out of my element.

First was a hike up to the horse stables. The school's equestrian program has large horses meant for farming and small ones (practically ponies) for pulling carriages. Mike got to sit on a horse, and elected to ride bareback. He wasn't expecting to have to trot around on the horse holding on to it's mane for dear life. It was a great photo-op, and Phoebe made fun of me for not brining my camera. I have a talent for missing out on photographing interesting events. That's how I knew I would make a horrible photojournalist without having to try it. I also learned an important lesson--Don't ever stand behind a horse. I will leave it at that.

After watching students in cute and sporty riding trousers and boots trot around the indoor training facility for a while, we went back to the main part of the campus. Boys were learning how to fix tractors and weld machine parts. It made me feel like a failure, like I hadn't done a productive thing in my life.

Then came the livestock. First pigs. Surprisingly cute. Very stinky. I was not too keen to see animals where meat comes from, since practically every meal here involves some form of pork. But it wasn't too traumatizing. Next we saw the cows. I literally can't think of a worse smelling thing in the universe. My clothes, my hair my skin was soaked in the terrible almost sweet and pungent cow smell. I could hardly breathe. Much worse than the pigs. When I got home at night, I told my host mother that we went to a farm and that I now smelled like a cow. She took one whiff of my hair and told me it would be fine after I took a shower.

Next was the slaughter house which I stood timidly outside of, too wary to enter, lest my delicate stomach be upset. All the agricultural students (besides those in equestrian studies) must learn to slaughter. Luckily for me, it was all clean and there were no dead animals in there except for in sausage form, and it actually smelled pretty delicious, especially after the cows.

Right before going to visit an English class to practice some intercultural conversation, we decided it would be a good idea to get a little toasted, so we toured the distillery, and were all given a sample shot of schnapps, the specialty of the region and the school. Everyone felt nice and warm. We went to the English class and met lots of teenagers. They were very funny, and had a huge crush on Sebastian who apparently resembled some pop star they loved. The girls I was talking to were very interesting in the drinking and smoking age in America. They were only one year away from being able to drink, just like me, except they were 15. And they thought it was hilarious that the smoking age was 18, they said many students at the school start smoking when they are 12.

Sebastian asked them what their favorite desert was that we HAD to try here in Austria. They said Sachar torte. We must be ahead of the game, since I already have eaten some.