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.