The lights at 37,000 feet

Have you ever flown across the Atlantic? What did you think? I've been across a few times, but yesterday (or really Sunday night into Monday morning) was one of the better flights.

I made it to the airport early enough to be assigned an aisle seat by the emergency exit (a favourite spot for passengers who are willing to put up with the noise and cold in exchange for the extra foot space). After spending an hour with family and friends I lined up to go through security. What a procedure. Fifteen minutes later, after declaring how many litres of fluid and gel I was carrying, unpacking my laptop, taking off my shoes and walking through the metal detector four times (my belt set it off, then my bracelet) I was through. I waved goodbye and off I went.

For once the airline boarded us on time and we took off only 15 minutes behind schedule. Early on into the flight the two passengers behind me started the ever popular, Edmonton vs. Calgary debate - only it wasn't two Albertans debating - it was a Swede and a Hungarian. I listened as they argued in their accented English about location, proximity to events, public transportation and yes, even hockey. It was interesting to hear the different perspectives.

After dinner I wrapped myself in blankets and my winter coat and drifted off to sleep. Around 11:30 p.m. I woke up and looked outside. I blinked. I couldn't believe my eyes. There outside, at an altitude of 37,000 feet I could see a shimmering band of green - the Aurora borealis. Although I've seen it before, this was the clearest and longest display I've ever seen. The ribbon of colour stretched at times right across my window pane and far into the distance. I watched for almost 30 minutes as the lights danced across the sky. Every so often there would be bursts of pinks and purples. It was enough to convince me - when I get back to Canada I'm renting a truck and camper and going up north to watch these lights glide across the night sky.

I tried to capture the beauty on camera, but it isn't the same. I've posted one of the better pictures, however, to fully appreciate the impressiveness and sheer beauty of this natural phenomenon, I'd suggest you try viewing them yourself... at 37,000 feet.

I made it

Just a quick little post to let you all know I'm now in Vienna. The flight to Frankfurt went well and I was able to get some sleep. There's more to the story, but I'll save that for when I am able to upload some photos.

Last night I went to take a look at an apartment. I'd heard about it in Canada but was concerned with how expensive it was. Well now I know why. The place has an understated elegance to it with high ceilings, wooden floors and the typical minimalistic European furniture. My room is large (probably 4x the size of my room at home) and faces east. I'd be sharing the apartment with a couple (their youngest son is off on an exchange in Dublin so they're renting his room). The couple is friendly and reminded one of my girlfriends (I took two with me) of her parents which, from the sound of things is good.

Today the plan is to look around for other apartments and maybe go into downtown. Keep checking in as I plan on doing a number of posts in the next few days and sharing a number of "firsts" you might enjoy reading about.

"Yes."

I woke up refreshed this morning. Somewhere during the course of the night, something triggered in my memory. I remembered what I'd completely forgotten the past few months.

When I was a "little" girl I dreamed of going to study in Europe. I'd go so far as to mentally plan how I'd arrange the furniture in my flat, whether I would walk or take transit to school and even who my classmates would be. For a time I'd dream I was going to study archeology, then it was music, fashion, history, journalism, nursing, even Middle Eastern studies. Countries, schools and programs changed, but ultimately I wanted to go study in Europe.

I'd completely forgotten all this. I'd forgotten that this was something I wanted to do throughout childhood and my teenage years. I had remembered that studying in Europe was something I always wanted to do, but had forgotten the specifics.

It has taken me a while, but this morning I finally remembered. With those memories came a realization: this exchange is my dream come true. It's an answer to a prayer I'd prayed when I was seven, 12, 15, 17 and 20. Somehow in all the business of trying to live life at it's current stage, I'd forgotten about all those prayers and all the plans. I'd remembered that it was something I always wanted to do, but I hadn't remembered the specific memories or the details associated with them. God did. He said "No" when I was seven. He said "No" when I was 12. He said "No" when I was 15, 17 and 20. Now, years after those initial prayers, it looks like He's saying "Yes."

Praise the Lord. Tomorrow, I leave. Tomorrow I'll be en route to completing my dream...studying in Europe.

Traveling via my taste buds

I'm downstairs in the sitting room looking for appartments in Vienna. I can hear dishes clanking as Chris sets the table. Delicious smells are wafting through the house. I'm transported across the ocean to another continent. The sun is beating down on my head. Children are playing in street. Exotic sounds and smells surround me.

Ok. Not quite transported, but it sure smells good. Over the past few months Chris has been coming home with tales of delicious lunches and food so spicy he's been brought to tears. We of course are very curious. What are we missing out on?

Tonight we'll find out. John (one of Chris's friends) is from Liberia. He came over for a traditional Thanksgiving dinner in October and has been offering to cook a traditional West African dinner for us ever since. I was excited. A chance to explore another continent via my taste buds? Woohoo! Sign me up.

So here we have one of the many dishes John and Chris are currently preparing. In this one is a mix of beans, mushrooms, peppers, chicken and a long list of spices. I can hardly wait till they're finished. It smells amazing...care to drop by for supper?

Another day is almost over...great. Now I have even less time to get everything done.

I just finished sending off an inquiry to a pension (for those of you not familiar with term, it's the equivalent of a bed and breakfast). I've decided that my first night in Vienna I'm going to spend with a whole building full of strangers. Why? Because honestly, after the past few days I'm looking forward to getting some peace and quiet. This has nothing to do with my friends but has everything to do with me being stressed out. The last thing I need is to be short-tempered with my friends. So, I think for the best interests of everyone involved I'm going to rent a room somewhere and crash for the first night. Exactly where yet I'm not sure. We'll see who gets back to me first.

I turned it down...

Well. yesterday and so far this morning have been hard.

As some of you may know, yesterday I thought I'd found (or actually my friend found for me) the perfect apartment. Perfect area of town, balcony, my own private room, close to my friend, very close to the underground, quick access to school and tourist attractions and about a block away from Vienna's equivalent to Uptown 17th. Yeah. a perfect place.

So, why did I turn it down? Well, there's one little detail I haven't mentioned yet. That detail has turned out to be a rather major detail. Actually, it has turned out the be the "deal-breaking" detail. I'd be sharing the apartment with a guy. Yes, you read correctly. A guy - as in a male.

After numerous talks (and yes, sometimes they were more like arguments) I've turned the place down. I won't get into all the details, but it really is too bad. The gentleman himself is a friend of a friend and really does sound like a nice decent person. At this point, his character is not in fault - it's the fact that he is male. Sound sexist? Yes, I'll be the first to admit it. Am I thrilled with the current situation? Absolutely not.

Here is my friend in Vienna, going out of her way to try and find me an apartment. She does, but I have to turn it down. Not because it's in a bad area of the city, or because I can't afford it, or because I can't live with smokers; no I had to turn it down because of the sex of the person I'd be sharing it with. Yeah. I'm not very pleased with myself.

Let's step back for a moment. Let us for a moment say that I had accepted this apartment...
So I'm living in a fantastic part of Vienna, have my own bedroom, watch the sun rise over the rooftops while standing on the balcony, am close to a friend, take the underground all over the city, zip back and forth between school and downtown throughout the day, oh and yes, very important, go window shopping at places I can't even afford to walk into. So there I am. All these great features and I happen to be sharing an apartment with a guy. What would you think?

Are you even paying attention or are you still stuck four paragraphs up where I first revealed that my flatmate would be a guy?

What do you think? Frankly, does it matter what you think? Do I live my life according to what you might think about my actions?

My mother mentioned something last night that stopped me dead in my tracks. She's convinced that there are people out there in our social circle who would refuse to associate with me if I lived in this apartment. Yes, you read correctly. People who would absolutely refuse to associate with me (and potentially then my parents and my little siblings) because of some living arrangements. Wow. I honestly don't know how to respond to that.

This is one of the reasons I absolutely hate PR. I can't just go and do something anymore. Through all my classes I've learned and seen first hand the effects that rash behaviour can have. I now think about my actions and how they might influence my life later and the lives of others around me. Technically that is a good thing. But sometimes, sometimes it sure is frustrating. This is one of those times.

Expectation management

Today has been a rather odd morning.

Actually, today has been a very frusterating morning. For the sake of keeping things nice and simple I'll explain in one word: housing.

I've had it up to here with just about everything. So, the question is: how many of my actions are based on expectation management? How much of what I do is done because of how I expect other people will view my decisions? Frankly should it matter what everyone else thinks? At the moment I'd say no. Actually, I'm tempted to write a loud resounding NO complete with slamming my hand down on the table and maybe an extra word or two thrown in for good measure. But of course, I won't. Why? Because "I" does not swear. Nor do "I" ever get really mad. Why not? Because of my reputation. Almost everyone knows that I don't swear and I don't get mad. I might be annoyed, but I don't get mad.

So, why does it bother me that so many of actions are a result of my monitoring your expectations of me? Because. For whatever reason, I have a real "fear of man" complex. I'm not going to get into all my theories on why...you'd be here a long time.

I'll admit though, I do get tired of doing things because that's what is "expected" of me. Notice I didn't say I get tired of doing things that are "morally right". I said I get tired of doing what is "expected" of me. By that I mean that I get tired of doing something only because I know how people will react if I don't do it. I'm tired of doing something for the sole reason that if I don't do it someone will react negatively. Flip. It would be nice to go through the world without that. It would be nice to do something without thinking ahead and taking into consideration the reactions of everyone else and then changing my action to accomodate.

I remember learning about this in Theories class. I think the concept that best explains how many of my decisions are made is Feedforward from General Semantics. Or, to use a completely different theory, it could be said that my front stage is imposing itself on my back stage. Either way. I'm not doing so great.

Friday night

Friday was a big night. I went out for an amazing Lebanese dinner with a friend, attended a Bon Voyage party and then went out with some friends. It was great. Thank you everyone for coming...you made the evening really memorable. Some of the highlights:
- Aida's on 4th St. SW - Delicious food, cozy atmosphere and great service...a favourite dinner/lunch spot for the past few years...rumour says the building was recently bought with plans to turn the whole thing into condos...food lovers unit and fight.
- a friend who with an incredible knack for research found the latest marriage stats on Canadians...the average age for first marriages for females is 28.5, for males it's 30 something...that made my night.
- the hockey argument...Bria, good for you for standing up for your team. I do not cheer for the Canuks but I can admire your loyalty :)
- unexpected company.
- a special shout-out later on in the evening...thanks Victor.
- an encouraging drive with Montse who brings a new perspective to things in Canada...thanks for listening and sharing.

All in all it was a wonderful night. Thank you.

Ten days to go...

This morning I woke up with start. The past few days I've been waking up slowly but not today. I think I was probably startled to realize that I only have ten days before I leave.
So far my day has been quite productive. I'm almost packed (yes, I've been almost packed for the past week but now I'm even closer). I actually thought I was finished already until I walked into my bathroom and realized I'd forgotten my toiletries and my running shoes. Yeah. Not good items to forget. As of an hour ago those things are safely in my suitcase.
Now I think I'm just missing a pair of dress pants (have to go pick them up from the tailor), three gifts for family, my dress shirts (the last one is being washed, the others are already folded on my bed) and a rain jacket. Who knows, I might end up buying that in Vienna.
This trip I'm really striving to keep my belongings to a minimum. I've learned from past mistakes. For my last trip to Europe I packed as if I was going to the middle of nowhere for five months - I brought far too much clothing. So, this time I keep reminding myself that Europe is quite civilized and if I really do end up needing that extra shirt/skirt/jacket I can go buy one.

In other news, tomorrow is my Bon Voyage party. My gf decided to plan something for my classmates and friends. Next week is another one hosted by my parents. I'm not quite sure how I feel about these sort of events. I don't usually like saying good-bye. Recently though, it's become one of the most common phrases in my vocabulary.

I guess saying good-bye is not really so much a phrase as it is an action. To me it symbolizes a letting go of the past and looking on towards the future. But sometimes the future is unclear. Sometimes I can't see the outcome. I'm fearful of the unknown.
I'm not a philosopher, but I do like to think that I'm a junior theorist. And so, here is the first (and definitely not the last) theory I'm posting on my blog. I think one (there are many) of the reasons saying good-bye is so hard is that it is a verbal acknowledgement that "this" (whether it's a relationship or a conversation or whatever) is now over. And, with something ending there is the implication that something else is beginning...but I don't always know what it is. And that lack of knowledge, that uncertainty over what is going to happen next, is what makes saying good-bye so hard. I have to leave what I know, and what I'm familiar with, and in many cases who and what I've come to rely on, for something else. Something I don't know yet, something I'm not familiar with and someone and something I haven't relied on before.

I believe in God and more importantly in his son Jesus Christ. I could quote all the bible verses that talk about Him being with you wherever you go. But I'm still human. I still struggle with the unknown. I think I always will. I'd like to think I have all the answers and know how everything will turn out - but I don't. I could be wrong, but I think it's a daily struggle to be willing to say good-bye to a wonderful past without knowing what tomorrow brings. I think that's were trust comes in - trusting God to guide me as I look into the future.

Only 17 days left

That's right. Only 17 days before I'm off to Europe. Am I excited? Oh yes. Am I nervous? Of course.
I have my visa and already am enrolled in a couple of classes. The one major item that I'm still looking to resolve is residence. Some friends have agreed to let me stay with them the first few days, so I won't be going from the airport to the street. Once in Vienna I'm hoping to secure living accommodations in the fifth, sixth, seventh or eighth districts as those are relatively close to school and to downtown. Regardless of which district I end up in though, Vienna is said to have a good transit system so I'm not too worried about location.
Last semester I met two Austrian exchange students who have already offered to show me around and take me sightseeing. Having someone who is familiar not only with the city but also the school and the culture is such a relief. I'm know I'm going to suffer some degree of culture shock. As a result, I'm depending on you all to post lots of comments and help me keep from giving up. After all Aut disce aut discede - either learn or leave.
I'm determined to learn.