Why I love living in Europe: Reason 194

I'm standing in the change room trying on traditional Austrian Dirndls. What starts playing in the background? Nickleback. What a mesh of cultures.

I am posting the following because it's something I went through last week. If you have a tendency to worry unnecessarily, excel at finding fault in others, or have nothing better to do than mix yourself up in matters that do not concern you, stop reading now.


..hey...did you not read the previous paragraph?



**The following content is not approved for general readership. By reading the rest of this post you are agreeing to view this content purely for it's entertainment value. This post presents a single experience and as such does not represent the behaviour of Europeans in general. This post is to be understood merely as an experience with one European. Any attempt to use this post as proof that Europeans all behave in this manner or that Europe is a bad scary place for single women is illogical. Don't read more into this post then there actually is. You've been warned.**









I've often traveled solo, but I've never experienced this...

"I want to sleep with a Canadian girl."

My eyes widened. Had I heard correctly? "Excuse me?"

"I want to sleep with a Canadian girl."

Ah, I had heard correctly. "Well that girl's not going to be me."



Blunt eh?

A Viennese throne

Sunday afternoon I went for lunch with three girls from church. We went to a little Mediterranean restaurant in the 1. Bezirk which is the main tourist district in Vienna. Came across this site which will never make it into a tourist guidebook...




Did you notice the dirty floor?
The mysterious wiring sticking out of the wall?
Take a closer look at the toilet...notice anything odd?

Saturday evening

I spent an hour sipping a Latte Machiato on the Mariahilferstrasse and then wandered down towards the 1. Bezirk. Pictures won't due it justice, but I thought I'd post a few just so you have an idea of how beautiful the night was.

The sun was just starting to go down and it's rays were reflecting off the Stiftskirche steeple.

Trees behind the Kunsthistorisches Museum.

Kunsthistorisches Museum sometime between eight and nine p.m.

Standing in the Volksgarten and looking towards the west as the sun set behind the Rathaus.

It's 8:30 a.m., the sun is shining straight into my room and it's already 15 degrees outside. What a fabulous morning.

Today is the three month anniversary of me moving to Vienna. I only have two more months left here. Has it been a wonderful time? Yes. Has it been perfect? No. Has it felt like three months? No. Do I want to leave?

No.

English? Francais? Espanol?

For the thousandth time since arriving in Europe I mentally kicked myself today. The reason? My laziness when it comes to learning another language. These Europeans are putting me to shame. Take for example Georg, one of my classmates, he speaks German (obviously) and is currently working on completing his thesis in English. Once finished school he plans on upgrading to a Masters degree in France. He's been learning French for years and last year went on an exchange to Paris. And, to add a little spice to his vocabulary he's currently learning Spanish. Four languages - one of which he's mastered, two of which he's almost mastered and the fourth which, I am willing to bet he will master in the next few years. Georg amazes me.

Then there's Lara. Now she really knows her languages. Originally from Croatia, she recently moved back to Austria after working in New York. As a dancer she has done an incredible amount of traveling and it shows. She speaks Croatian and understands Serbian. Providing the topic is not meta-physics (or something equally scientific) she can also follow an Arabic conversation. Ok, speaks one language and understands two, seems pretty basic right? Wait, there's more...she also teaches English, argues in French and Italian, and of course speaks German. So, even if we leave out Serbian and Arabic (because she can't actually speak them) we're left with four languages.

Four's a pretty small number right? But how many languages do you speak? How many languages do the North Americans you know speak? From my own experience the majority of the North Americans I know speak one language and dabble in another. However, the majority of my aquaintances who speak more languages don't have their family roots in North America. Come to think of it, most of them either have a parent (or in some cases parents) who imigrated to Canada, or imigrated to Canada themselves.

People are shocked to learn I don't speak French: "But, you're Canadian. Don't Canadians speak English and French?" Sometimes I go into the politics behind why not all Canadians (especially those from the West) don't learn French, sometimes I just give the standard "No, I just didn't learn it" response. As a result I've spent a bit of time pondering the North American attitude to learning languages. Geography may have something to do with it. Here I could drive one hour to the southeast and be in Hungary. Or, I could drive north and end up in the Czech Republic. In Canada I could either drive three days or drive four days to Mexico. Here if I drove for three days I'd pass through at least two but more like four or five countries.

A second possiblity for why people learn so many languages is the stiff competition. With the establishment of the European Union, imigrating has become easier. More paperwork perhaps, but easier in the sense of being able to tranfser your education over and finding work in a new country. There are an increasing number of graduates from Eastern Europe who are flooding into the EU. Many of the large multinational companies are looking to expand deeper into Eastern Europe and Asia so hiring someone with the language skills is logical. Austrian graduates will not only be competing with each other but also with a growing number of graduates from Eastern European, Middle Eastern and African graduates. Depending on your perspective, this is either bad (more competition for the few job positions available), or it is good (greater pressure to excel at more). I'm not saying there is no pressure in North America. Far from it. I just think that the pressure North Americans face hasn't reached the same degree that it has here.

I'm sure there are more reasons for why Europeans speak more languages than North Americans. I don't claim to be an expert on languages, but I do know one thing: watch out Canadians. Speaking only one language might not be a problem today. It may not even be a problem tomorrow or ten years from now. But, if things change, if we are one day competing with the Europeans? Better dust of that textbook and start expanding your language skills.

Saturday

I am thrilled to be here. So far this weekend has been absolutely great. I have very little homework which means I don't have to spend my time couped up inside and to make it even better, the weather is absolutely fabulous. Almost no homework and 27 degrees - who can complain about that?

During the morning I took care of the glamours aspect of life (laundary, cleaning, etc.) and had a chance to talk with a friend back in Canada. (Isn't Skype great?)

For lunch I met up with a girlfriend and we ordered salads at a local turkish cafe. Fresh vegetables and goatcheese sprinkled with oil - delicious. As it turned out my girlfriend knows the waiter and we ended up paying €3.50 each for our meals.

The next few hours we wandered up and down the Mariahilferstrasse. You know I love to go window shopping, but window shopping with a clean conscience? That was priceless. The past few weeks I haven't gone because my conscience was nagging me. "You have an exam you should be studying for. That assignment is due on Tuesday - you're not going to wait until the last second to finish it are you? Stop thinking about shoes. Focus. You're supposed to be thinking about Jesse Garrett's principles on user experience in information architecture remember?" Yeah. It was nice to shop with out that little voice.

Ladies...

I'm sorry.

Today, I really did not represent.

Got up, pulled on a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt. Threw my rather greasy hair up into a hapazard ponytail. Dabbed on taupe eyeliner. Brushed on some mascara. Squirted on a bit of perfume. Grabbed a sweater and slid into some runners. Rushed out the door to school.

And, got treated to coffee...

Go figure.

Why I love living in Europe: Reason 287

I come home from grocery shopping and it looks like I've been on a world tour:

Dates from Eygpt
Kiwi from Isreal
Zucchini from Turkey
Peppers from Greece
Eggplant from Hungary
Carrots from Austria
White Asparagus from Germany
Cheese from Switzerland
Grapes from Spain

oh, and oranges....

from California.

Pale pink

Spring has arrived here in Vienna. I've been meaning to post these pictures for a few weeks now. One morning I decided to take a different route to school and came across this little square. It's little squares like this that make me never want to go back to Canada. There was a sweet fragrance in the air and the pale pink flowers looked so delicate against the buildings - most of which have been around for over a hundered years. I know the pictures don't do it justice, but at least you get an idea.






This was last week - the flowers are falling off and landing between the cobblestones.

Alright, the updates have started. The first update I worked on while I was studying - so between my post on the WWF and Gangsta advice.

More to come either this afternoon or evening.

Ciao.

Sorry I haven't posted lately. I've been couped up in my living room studying for a number of exams: Betriebs u. Organisation Wirtschaft, Information Architecture and Issue Management. Will aim to write or post some pictures tomorrow.

Gangsta image advice

Note to all those wannabe rappers and gangstas out there....

Yes, you look very tough. The ball cap turned sideways, gold chains down to your belly button, white t-shirt so big you could drown in it and the baggy jeans pulled so low I'm surprised they haven't fallen down, are all very convincing. I am quaking in my boots (ok, high heels). Really. I am.

Being such a tough guy must take a lot of concentration - so much so that you failed to realize one crucial fact - your jeans are pulled so low that when you sit down/stand up the whole subway car can see your hairy backside. Yeah. Your macho guy image popped faster than an balloon poked with a needle.

Please, if you insist on playing the rapper/gangsta - invest in a belt. After all, who's going to take you seriously if your backside gets you more attention than all the gangsta logos and bling on your front side? You're lucky some grandmother didn't tan your hide with her cane...now wouldn't that have ruined your tough guy image.

Candle making

I've been couped up inside for the past few days as I'm in the middle of studying for my Information Architecture final exam. Thought I'd post a few pictures of candle making in Valbert Germany.

The history behind this shop is that one of the owner's son's godmother was a candlemaker. She felt that she was getting too old to continue and was going to throw out her all her supplies. The parents of her godson figured it was a shame to throw out all the equipment so they bought it from her. The wife started talking with other women in the town and a few of them banded together to buy a little shop. The enterprise has grown into six women who are all full time mothers and wives but business women on the side.

The candle making equipment has it's own little room and from what I understand is the most profitable venture. However, one of the ladies is a bee keeper so there are different types of honey for sale: Waldhonig (honey from the forest) and Wiesenhonig (honey from the meadow) - and yes, there is actually a difference in taste, smell and apperance. Another lady works with plant (onions, dandy lions, grapes, etc.) dyes so there are a number of hand dyed scarves, shawls and bags. I'm guessing that a third must own sheep because there is also spun wool available.

The store hours are based on the womens' schedules and each woman is expected to work a certain number of hours per week. The store hours are Mon-Friday 15-18 and then another three hours on Saturday. It doesn't sound as if that would be enough to keep the place running but apparently it is. More and more people are hearing about the business and coming out to support community entreprenuership. While we there a quilter brought some of her quilts - apparently they are going to be priced and then go up for sale. I'm thrilled to see a little shop like this that's thriving. Next time you're in the area be sure to check it out.

One of the candles pairs I made - you have to dip the candles in hot wax about 30 times.


Looking from the candle dipping room (through a window in the wall) into the rest of the shop.



Coming into the shop.



Mmm....carrots....

Hang on? You sure those are carrots?

WWF

In class this morning:

"Among the most trusted non profit brands in the world are Amnesty International, WWF and Greenpeace."

I nearly choked. WWF? Excuse me?

I was about to have a heart attack. What are instructors getting away with here? Since when is the WWF one of the most trusted non profit brands? Most trusted? Most trusted in the world? Yeah right. And, since when is the WWF non profit? They make millions and the owners make even more. Who comes up with this ridiculous information?

No....

WWF - as in World Wildlife Fund. Oh. Right.


(What do you first think of when you hear WWF?)

I am so spoiled...

Here I sit in Vienna sipping...guess...


Tim Horton's French Vanilla Cappuccino!! Yay!


From....

A rrroll-up-the-rim-to-win cup!!


Yeah, I have the best friends in the world. They think of everything. Thanks ladies! You are amazing.

High heels, pink and yellow, and a lost camera

You ever worn high heels? Ever spent ten hours in them? What about ten hours walking through cobblestone streets in said heels? I have. Last Monday. I woke up and thought, "Yes, today I am going to spend ten hours exploring Köln in almost brand new high heels." Ok, not quite. But close.

You see Gisela and I were in Köln for the day and felt that we really ought to soak up the scenery and the sunshine. (Sidebar: Gisela is my pen pal of eight years or so. I met her for the first time three years ago so this was the second time meeting her. We get along great and as you might have guessed we have a tendency to follow through on seemingly brilliant ideas that are actually far less than brilliant.)

Anyways, the sun was shining and everything seemed so fresh and wonderful that we figured we'd dress up for our excursion. Skirts, blouses, scarves, purses, thin jackets just in case and of course, high heels.

As Gisela is studying in Köln so our first stop was the University. Secretly I had hoped for some stunning architecture or some equally admirable scenery. Alas, everything I saw was very square and practical. The sweeping arches and detailed ceilings that I'd become used to in Vienna would have been out of place here. It was nice, but not beautiful. It could have just as easily been the U of C campus.

After the university we walked down the Schildergasse towards downtown. Schildergasse seems to be Köln's Mariahilferstrasse - lots of shops, buskers and people milling about. We wandered through a few shops and had a salesperson try to sell us a whole outfit (dress, jacket, shoes and jewelery) but we managed not buy anything. As nothing really caught our attention we changed directions slightly and headed towards the promenade (the Rhein river flows right through Köln and there is a long promenade along the river bank).

By now we'd been on our feet for a few hours so we made a pit stop at an Eis Cafe (Ice cream shop - very common in Europe and extremely delicious) Don't like ice cream? I don't either. I can count on one hand the times I had ice cream last year. But in Europe? The ice cream is nothing like what North America has to over. You must visit an Eis Cafe in Europe - no exceptions - you'll be blown away by the freshness, the intensity and the variety of the flavours.

Gisela and I enjoyed our ice cream while swinging our feet over a low stone wall running parallel to the river. Before us was the promenade with people parading up and down in the sunshine. One fashionable couple caught our attention. The mother looked like she stepped off the runway in Milan - cream blouse with melted milk chocolate pants and pointy crocodile leather sling backs. Thick dark brown hair fell down her back. Her husband was even taller than she was and strode beside her. His hair fell just past his shoulders and matched his chestnut trousers. As an accent he wore a cherry blossom pink shirt. She pushed a stroller in front of her. He clutched an open beer bottle. A family outing - European style.

Finishing our ice cream cones Gisela and I strolled along the walk way. Every so often we stopped to snap a few pictures. The promenade is picturesque. There are a number of old houses that front the river and narrow little cobblestone streets that open out onto the promenade.

By the time we reached the pathway leading to the Kölner Dom the sun that had been warming our backs was now accompanied by a cool breeze. We slipped into our jackets walked up the stair way. For some unknown reason some 'brilliant' sculptor was asked to create a sculpture to greet tourists as they climb the stairs toward the Kölner Dom. For some reason this 'brilliant' sculptor decided to sculpt a slightly larger than life completely nude male gazing towards the river. Now. Michelangelo I can appreciate. But a slightly larger than life completely nude male statue...in pink with yellow hair?!? Right. Reminded me of the old dirty Ken barbie dolls you sometimes see in second hand shops. Personally I'm questioning the 'brilliancy' of this sculptor. Pink and yellow. Yes, as in faded (but definitely pink) barbie pink...with yellow hair. As you walk up towards the back of the Kölner Dom. Someone at the city development office was apparently not thinking quite clearly.

Both Gisela and I had been inside the Kölner Dom before so we wandered around outside and snapped a few pictures. Last time I was here there was a group of teenagers on Rollerblades who were using plastic Ikea tumblers as markers for a Rollerblade course. A group was there today. We watched as they raced through the course weaving in and out between tumblers. The vitality of the young people provided an interesting contrast to the heavy walls of the Dom. On the one hand was the colour and life of the future and on the other hand the firmly rooted traditions and cultures of the past.

Our feet were aching so we stopped at the tourist information centre for awhile and gathered interesting bits of information. Did you know that Köln has a hockey team? The Kölner Haie (Cologne Sharks). Unfortunately they had just played last night, otherwise we would have bought tickets. Another intersting fact - did you know that Köln at one point belonged to Napoleon's Empire? We gathered a few other facts, wandered throught the gift shop and then left.

Outside I realized I'd lost my camera. Oh no. Gisela and I emptied our purses and pockets - no camera. We said a quick prayer and started to retrace our steps. Did I leave it by the tourist information counter? No. In the gift shop downstairs? No. Oh no. Would I have to go buy a new camera? Gisela and I figured the only thing we could do would be to leave our names and numbers at the tourist information counter in case it was returned later on. One of the other service personnel walked past and overheard our conversation. She pulled her coworker aside and the two of them started grilling us about my camera: make, model and colour. Turns out someone had returned it. What a relief. Gisela was quite shocked - she's originally from Russia where nothing is ever 'found' - items just receive new owners. Praise the Lord for honest people.

Our search for the missing camera over, we headed back into downtown. It was already early evening and Gisela wanted to buy a few groceries before heading back to her apartment. My soles had been arguing with me for hours already and now Gisela's heels were complaining too. Instead of walking the 45 minutes or so to the grocery store and then home we took the tram.

Shortly after eight, we arrived at Gisela's apartment and collapsed on the bed. We laughed about our adventures and planed our next excursion - needless to say, next time we're going to think twice about wearing brand new high heels.

The view from the promenade looking in towards the altstadt Köln: the Romanesque style church Gross St. Martin (in the background are the towers of the Kölner Dom).

The front of the Kölner Dom. Construction on the Dom began in 1248 and continued on and off until the late 19th century.

German practicality

Lost the key to the gate? No problem...just take out part of the fence.

603 years ago...

This gate was built.



The gate itself - Hirtentor (Shepherd's gate) in Blankenheim, Germany - was built in 1404. That's 88 years before Christopher Columbus. The coat of arms is from 1512.

(And to think that in Western Canada we get excited about First Nations settlements and RCMP forts)

A Sunday afternoon stroll

Sunday (April 1) the weather was beautiful so after lunch we strolled through the countryside. Here a few pictures - I know they don't do the countryside justice but at least you can get an idea of what I saw. This is in Nordrhein-Westfalen, Germany - about an hour (by train) east of Köln (Cologne).

Happy Easter

I'm back from my vacation. Here's an Easter picture taken last week while visiting friends in Germany. I have to go unpack but will post more tomorrow and through out the week - I have lots of stories and photos to share.