Today is the last day of the second last month.
Next month I leave Vienna.
I'm not sure how I feel about leaving.
I've come to love the streets, the quirky class schedules, the walls of roses in the Volksgarten and yes, even the the banging of the garbage men every morning.
Technically, since it's passed midnight here in Vienna it's already my last month...
...the countdown has begun.
Current song:
Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
A day in life....
...I was going to write about my day....
...but then my evening ended up being so interesting that I've decided to write about the last three hours instead.
21:20 - Arrive home from my Global Marketing class.
21:45 - My cellphone rings just as I'm settling into my recliner and putting my feet up:
"Hello?"
"Ja, Hallo."
"Hello?"
"Ja, Hallo."
---now I'm translating what was said---
"What are you doing?"
"Just got home from school, so relaxing."
"Ah...want to meet up?"
"Now?"
"Sure, I'll meet you at Schwedenplatz in thirty minutes."
"Oh. Ok."
21:55 - I leave the house. Looks like I won't be getting a head start on my homework tonight.
22.30 - I meet up with my acquaintance and we head over to a favourite hangout.
23:45 - Men in kilts start singing and dancing around....to the Y-M-C-A. Yeah. Time to leave.
00:30 - I walk into my apartment to waves of smoke. I drop my things at the front door and do a quick walk through of the apartment. There doesn't seem to be any fire, but the place smells terrible.
As I am carrying my things through the dinning room I notice something out of the corner of my eye. One of the flower boxes outside is smoking. As in billowing white clouds against the night sky. What's going on? I move closer. Three of the four sides of the flower box have melted. Pools of red embers fade and then flicker back to life. The wind is blowing ash and sparks into the apartment through a crack in window sill.
What do I do? Panic? No. Of course not. I run into my room for my dictionary. How do you say spark in German? Hmmmm. My host parents are sleeping so I don't want to wake them up while jabbering on in English. Great. The German word had more to do with a spark plug. Now what?
I stand and watch the glowing flower box for a few minutes. There is a strong breeze, so sparks whirl in the wind and slide through the crack in the window sill. Should I wake my host parents? Should I just dose the flower box with water? Hmmm... Decisions, decisions. This would be a lot easier if there were flames leaping about instead of sparks dancing in the wind.
I decide to wake my host parents. Luckily my host mother wakes up quickly and manges to make sense of my panicked mash of German and English. We spend the next thirty minutes playing fireman. Her in her long nightgown, me in evening make up and fancy jewellery. We made quite the pair.
I think we'll try out for the fire brigade tomorrow. In the meantime I'm going to head to bed. Have a good evening.
...but then my evening ended up being so interesting that I've decided to write about the last three hours instead.
21:20 - Arrive home from my Global Marketing class.
21:45 - My cellphone rings just as I'm settling into my recliner and putting my feet up:
"Hello?"
"Ja, Hallo."
"Hello?"
"Ja, Hallo."
---now I'm translating what was said---
"What are you doing?"
"Just got home from school, so relaxing."
"Ah...want to meet up?"
"Now?"
"Sure, I'll meet you at Schwedenplatz in thirty minutes."
"Oh. Ok."
21:55 - I leave the house. Looks like I won't be getting a head start on my homework tonight.
22.30 - I meet up with my acquaintance and we head over to a favourite hangout.
23:45 - Men in kilts start singing and dancing around....to the Y-M-C-A. Yeah. Time to leave.
00:30 - I walk into my apartment to waves of smoke. I drop my things at the front door and do a quick walk through of the apartment. There doesn't seem to be any fire, but the place smells terrible.
As I am carrying my things through the dinning room I notice something out of the corner of my eye. One of the flower boxes outside is smoking. As in billowing white clouds against the night sky. What's going on? I move closer. Three of the four sides of the flower box have melted. Pools of red embers fade and then flicker back to life. The wind is blowing ash and sparks into the apartment through a crack in window sill.
What do I do? Panic? No. Of course not. I run into my room for my dictionary. How do you say spark in German? Hmmmm. My host parents are sleeping so I don't want to wake them up while jabbering on in English. Great. The German word had more to do with a spark plug. Now what?
I stand and watch the glowing flower box for a few minutes. There is a strong breeze, so sparks whirl in the wind and slide through the crack in the window sill. Should I wake my host parents? Should I just dose the flower box with water? Hmmm... Decisions, decisions. This would be a lot easier if there were flames leaping about instead of sparks dancing in the wind.
I decide to wake my host parents. Luckily my host mother wakes up quickly and manges to make sense of my panicked mash of German and English. We spend the next thirty minutes playing fireman. Her in her long nightgown, me in evening make up and fancy jewellery. We made quite the pair.
I think we'll try out for the fire brigade tomorrow. In the meantime I'm going to head to bed. Have a good evening.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Concert for Europe 2007
Tonight is a big night for Vienna. Valéry Gerviev, a Russian conductor, will be conducting the Vienna Philharmonic orchestra. What's so special about that, you ask? Well, there are a few things that make tonight extraordinary:
Instead of performing in the Haus der Musik, the Konzerthaus or the Musikverein (usual performance locations), the Philharmonic is preforming in the Schönnbrunn Schloß gardens (Schönnbrunn is the Austrian equivalent to France's Palace of Versailles). Instead of the usual 250-1000 person audience, the crowd capacity for this concert is much higher - 70,000 at last year's concert. Instead of dipping into the wallet or maxing out the credit card on tickets, this concert is free. Instead of sitting in plush red velvet seats, listeners stand or better yet, bring picnic blankets and drink champagne. Still not convinced? Well, I'm heading there in a few hours - I'll post some pictures and you can decide for yourself.
Instead of performing in the Haus der Musik, the Konzerthaus or the Musikverein (usual performance locations), the Philharmonic is preforming in the Schönnbrunn Schloß gardens (Schönnbrunn is the Austrian equivalent to France's Palace of Versailles). Instead of the usual 250-1000 person audience, the crowd capacity for this concert is much higher - 70,000 at last year's concert. Instead of dipping into the wallet or maxing out the credit card on tickets, this concert is free. Instead of sitting in plush red velvet seats, listeners stand or better yet, bring picnic blankets and drink champagne. Still not convinced? Well, I'm heading there in a few hours - I'll post some pictures and you can decide for yourself.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Why I love living in Europe: Reason 178
The last three songs on the radio were:
Love Generation - Bob Sinclair
Madonna - Robbie Williams
Say it right - Nelly Furtado
Love Generation - Bob Sinclair
Madonna - Robbie Williams
Say it right - Nelly Furtado
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Breathtaking
The first of May is a national holiday in Austria. My host family was heading to the mountains and offered to take me along...
We drove about one and a half hours southwestwards from Vienna. These mountains are considered forerunners to the Alps.
My host "father" is chair of an Alpine club that has a cabin up in mountains. In the mid 1830's, the Alpine club designed and built a mountain cabin in Vienna and then transported it here (approx 4,357 ft. above sea level). Although the cabin was looted during the war (supposedly by the Russians), most of the original furnishings (including paintings of the Hapsburg emperors and photographs of women making the climb in long gowns and riding side saddle) were returned. Apparently the "Russians" were actually locals.
Membership to the Alpine club is limited to men only (following the original traditions of the club), but women and children are allowed to visit the cabin. Every member has a key to the cabin and is allowed to come here whenever he wishes. Some of the members celebrate New Years here: no central heating (just two wood burning stoves), no plumbing (just an outhouse 30 feet from the door) and no lighting (just a large stash of matches and candles. However, there are some definite benefits of staying at the cabin: two overflowing bookcases, a large collection of schnapps (and brandy), beautiful scenery and above all - quiet. To bad I'm not staying over New Years. That sounds really relaxed and cozy.
Another picture of the Gamsecker Hütte. In the 1800's Vienna bought this land and the springs on it as a water source for the city. Today much of Vienna's drinking water still comes from this area.There is a little dip in the mountain (not as large as a valley, just a little dip) in front of the cabin. A tiny spring bubbles down through the dip and one of the club members built a little bench to sit on - very practical as the spring doubles as the cabin's kitchen sink.
Towards the back of the cabin is a rock cliff face - these flowers were about seven feet up.
So you get an idea of where things were....the little red house is approximately where the cabin was and the cross is, well, keep reading and you'll figure it out.
What a view. This is about 30 minutes past the cabin - we had to trudge through ten inches of snow to get up here. I haven't gotten that muddy in a while, but it was worth it. The view from here was breathtaking. I wish you could have been there. The picture doesn't do it justice.
We ended up hiking ten kilometers that day. In the mid-afternoon we headed to Mariazell, but that requires another post. I'll try and post that tomorrow.
We drove about one and a half hours southwestwards from Vienna. These mountains are considered forerunners to the Alps.
My host "father" is chair of an Alpine club that has a cabin up in mountains. In the mid 1830's, the Alpine club designed and built a mountain cabin in Vienna and then transported it here (approx 4,357 ft. above sea level). Although the cabin was looted during the war (supposedly by the Russians), most of the original furnishings (including paintings of the Hapsburg emperors and photographs of women making the climb in long gowns and riding side saddle) were returned. Apparently the "Russians" were actually locals.
Membership to the Alpine club is limited to men only (following the original traditions of the club), but women and children are allowed to visit the cabin. Every member has a key to the cabin and is allowed to come here whenever he wishes. Some of the members celebrate New Years here: no central heating (just two wood burning stoves), no plumbing (just an outhouse 30 feet from the door) and no lighting (just a large stash of matches and candles. However, there are some definite benefits of staying at the cabin: two overflowing bookcases, a large collection of schnapps (and brandy), beautiful scenery and above all - quiet. To bad I'm not staying over New Years. That sounds really relaxed and cozy.
Another picture of the Gamsecker Hütte. In the 1800's Vienna bought this land and the springs on it as a water source for the city. Today much of Vienna's drinking water still comes from this area.There is a little dip in the mountain (not as large as a valley, just a little dip) in front of the cabin. A tiny spring bubbles down through the dip and one of the club members built a little bench to sit on - very practical as the spring doubles as the cabin's kitchen sink.
Towards the back of the cabin is a rock cliff face - these flowers were about seven feet up.
So you get an idea of where things were....the little red house is approximately where the cabin was and the cross is, well, keep reading and you'll figure it out.
What a view. This is about 30 minutes past the cabin - we had to trudge through ten inches of snow to get up here. I haven't gotten that muddy in a while, but it was worth it. The view from here was breathtaking. I wish you could have been there. The picture doesn't do it justice.
We ended up hiking ten kilometers that day. In the mid-afternoon we headed to Mariazell, but that requires another post. I'll try and post that tomorrow.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Hey. I know I have been posting much lately. I do apologize.
This weekend I am heading to Furstenfeld (two hours or so from Vienna) on a retreat. I have, of course, made great plans to catch up on: reading, blogging, relaxing and homework. There won't be any updates for the next few days but I am hoping come Monday, to have a number of pictures and entries for you to read.
Have a good weekend.
And *muah* to the ladies.
This weekend I am heading to Furstenfeld (two hours or so from Vienna) on a retreat. I have, of course, made great plans to catch up on: reading, blogging, relaxing and homework. There won't be any updates for the next few days but I am hoping come Monday, to have a number of pictures and entries for you to read.
Have a good weekend.
And *muah* to the ladies.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Saturday, May 5, 2007
"I'll have an espresso please."
Four hours - three different espressos.
A classmate called me in the early afternoon. "What are you doing?"
"Homework."
"I should have known. Want to go for coffee?"
"Sure. I'll be there in 45 minutes."
That was the end of conujugating verbs. I packed up my homework, jumped in the shower and off I went.
We met in one of the little cafe's in the Museumsquartier. My classmate works for Nespresso - one of the main coffee companies in Europe. His sister works for Meinl - a traditional Viennese coffee company. Needless to say, when it comes to coffee he knows what he's talking about. What started out as meeting for a simple cup of coffee turned into almost five hours of walking through the Alt Stadt in search of the perfect roast.
Delicious. I think I should start drinking coffee more often. Anyone else want a refill?
A classmate called me in the early afternoon. "What are you doing?"
"Homework."
"I should have known. Want to go for coffee?"
"Sure. I'll be there in 45 minutes."
That was the end of conujugating verbs. I packed up my homework, jumped in the shower and off I went.
We met in one of the little cafe's in the Museumsquartier. My classmate works for Nespresso - one of the main coffee companies in Europe. His sister works for Meinl - a traditional Viennese coffee company. Needless to say, when it comes to coffee he knows what he's talking about. What started out as meeting for a simple cup of coffee turned into almost five hours of walking through the Alt Stadt in search of the perfect roast.
Delicious. I think I should start drinking coffee more often. Anyone else want a refill?
Thursday, May 3, 2007
White Stetson twang
Yeah, I admit it. I'm a country music fan. There is something about the twang and rhythm that gets me.
The odd thing is that although I was a country music fan before coming to Europe, I seem to be even more of one now. Don't get me wrong - I still love salsa, rock, techno and classical. But here, country music seems to be a little piece of home. When you think about, there's country music for almost every situation:
Patronizing classmates? "How'd you like me now" by Toby Keith
A hard day at school? "Honey, I'm home" by Shania Twain
Reading e-mails from friends at home? "Me and my gang" by Rascal Flatts
Lonely moments? "You'll think of me" by Keith Urban
Ridiculous Europeans? "That don't impress me much" by Shania Twain
Going out? "Save a horse, ride a cowboy" by Big and Rich
Patriotic moments? "Clearly Canadian" by George Fox
More ridiculous Europeans? "When" by Shania Twain
A hard day in general? "Jesus take the Wheel" by Carrie Underwood
Sunny Sunday afternoon? "Would you go with me?" by Josh Turner
More patriotic moments? "Alberta Bound" by Paul Brandt
It's odd really. As much as I feel at home here in Europe, country music speaks to me. The twang seems to bring the dust, the sunshine and the white Stetson to life.
As a little girl I lived in the city. One summer my neighbour was re-shingling her house and the workers were blasting country music. I was in my room supposed to be taking a nap. Instead, I opened the window and sat against the wall listening. I remember thinking, "Wow. There's more than my-girl-left-me-and-my-truck-broke-down-and-my-dog-just-died. This isn't what I'd expected."
That was one of my first experiences with country music. I'd been introduced to a world where men sang about their feelings. Sang. Didn't scream, didn't drink, didn't hit. They sang. Yes, maybe they sang about screaming, drinking and hitting but they sang. I was fascinated. My family was/is very loving and I grew up in an average middle class white neighbourhood, but no family and no neighbourhood is ever perfect.
Now as I walk through cobbelstone streets past buildings hundereds of years old I find myself humming "Country roads, take me home...". There are some things that stay with you for the rest of your life - country music, I believe, is one of them.
The odd thing is that although I was a country music fan before coming to Europe, I seem to be even more of one now. Don't get me wrong - I still love salsa, rock, techno and classical. But here, country music seems to be a little piece of home. When you think about, there's country music for almost every situation:
Patronizing classmates? "How'd you like me now" by Toby Keith
A hard day at school? "Honey, I'm home" by Shania Twain
Reading e-mails from friends at home? "Me and my gang" by Rascal Flatts
Lonely moments? "You'll think of me" by Keith Urban
Ridiculous Europeans? "That don't impress me much" by Shania Twain
Going out? "Save a horse, ride a cowboy" by Big and Rich
Patriotic moments? "Clearly Canadian" by George Fox
More ridiculous Europeans? "When" by Shania Twain
A hard day in general? "Jesus take the Wheel" by Carrie Underwood
Sunny Sunday afternoon? "Would you go with me?" by Josh Turner
More patriotic moments? "Alberta Bound" by Paul Brandt
It's odd really. As much as I feel at home here in Europe, country music speaks to me. The twang seems to bring the dust, the sunshine and the white Stetson to life.
As a little girl I lived in the city. One summer my neighbour was re-shingling her house and the workers were blasting country music. I was in my room supposed to be taking a nap. Instead, I opened the window and sat against the wall listening. I remember thinking, "Wow. There's more than my-girl-left-me-and-my-truck-broke-down-and-my-dog-just-died. This isn't what I'd expected."
That was one of my first experiences with country music. I'd been introduced to a world where men sang about their feelings. Sang. Didn't scream, didn't drink, didn't hit. They sang. Yes, maybe they sang about screaming, drinking and hitting but they sang. I was fascinated. My family was/is very loving and I grew up in an average middle class white neighbourhood, but no family and no neighbourhood is ever perfect.
Now as I walk through cobbelstone streets past buildings hundereds of years old I find myself humming "Country roads, take me home...". There are some things that stay with you for the rest of your life - country music, I believe, is one of them.
Shutter
Sometimes I wonder...
Yeah, I know I should be doing something more productive with my time, but sometimes I just need to sit here and think. So I do.
Who is going to be there after me?
What is she going to be like? Are you going to like her? Like her more than me? Is she going to make you happy? I sure hope so. I'd like to think that she'll make you smile. Not a quaint, "yeah-that's-cute" smile, but a grin that throws open the windows and lets the sunshine stream in.
Will you remember me? Or will the past fade into the distance. A blurred background of what used to be. I could be wrong, but I almost perfer a blurred background. As happy as I was in the past, I don't want to distract from the present - let alone darken the future. And if it means forgetting I ever existed? So be it. I don't want to be the shutter that blocks out the sunshine.
Yeah, I know I should be doing something more productive with my time, but sometimes I just need to sit here and think. So I do.
Who is going to be there after me?
What is she going to be like? Are you going to like her? Like her more than me? Is she going to make you happy? I sure hope so. I'd like to think that she'll make you smile. Not a quaint, "yeah-that's-cute" smile, but a grin that throws open the windows and lets the sunshine stream in.
Will you remember me? Or will the past fade into the distance. A blurred background of what used to be. I could be wrong, but I almost perfer a blurred background. As happy as I was in the past, I don't want to distract from the present - let alone darken the future. And if it means forgetting I ever existed? So be it. I don't want to be the shutter that blocks out the sunshine.
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