Wednesday, December 03, 2008
It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year
No, it’s not Christmas yet, and even though our Thanksgiving was a wonderful time, it is not the wonderful time to which I am referring. As of last week, our semester’s work is complete. No longer do papers, presentations, and required sites loom over us. As a reward for our hard work this semester, we are now free to move about the continent on our own dollar, or rather, Euro. I am currently in Athens, Greece, kicking up my heels and forgetting that I do in fact still have responsibilities, namely this blog. I hope you will forgive my long absence.
Today, I will head back to Vienna to face the daunting task of fitting three months’ worth of souvenirs in two airplane regulation-sized suitcases. Though the idea of packing is not a pleasant one, I am looking forward to being stateside in five days, ready to face the next adventure that life has in store.
I call this one “The Eiffel Flower.” It’s not exactly Athens, but I needed a picture and this one was already uploaded.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
I Will Survive
On Friday I was not laughing. I was 20 years old, I had bronchitis and laryngitis and I was not laughing. I did not laugh when we were fined on the train to Prague because even though we’d requested a ticket and seat reservation since our Eurail does not cover the Czech Republic, we unknowingly only got the reservation part. I did not laugh when we were fined on the Prague underground for going exactly where the tourist information lady told us our tickets would take us. I did not laugh when we spent the night in a train station in Brussels either. I did not laugh as I shivered in the cold. I did not laugh when a possibly high woman got incredibly close and stared at us nor when I watched her roll her own cigarette. I did not laugh when Amanda got her bag spit on. I did not laugh when we traipsed around the entire city of Paris only to find ourselves at an apartment complex, not our hostel.
Now I am laughing. In fact, I can’t stop laughing. Miserable though I was, annoyed at my luck, my health, and the opinion that being in Europe should be the antidote to every emotional poison, I survived to tell the story and what a story it is to tell.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Happy Birthday, Mr. President
No, I am not so bold as to discuss politics on my OC-sponsored blog, it’s a different president. And it’s not his birthday, though it is mine. Today I have exited teen years.
Yesterday OC’s president Mike O’Neal paid good ‘ole Schloss Neuwaldegg a visit. He wanted a chance to sit down and talk to some of us and get a feel for how things are going here in Vienna. I also believe he was hoping to live vicariously through us. It was nice to see a familiar face from campus though I can’t speak for the Cascade and Rochester students. Mr. O’Neal was greeted with great enthusiasm especially since his visit meant free pizza and Dr. Pepper floats. Most of us have not had Dr. Pepper since leaving the States since it is very hard to find here and very expensive once you do find it. I believe I can speak for most when I say thank you Mr. O’Neal. Your gift of Dr. Pepper was more than a physical quenching of thirst but a renewed belief in the goodness of mankind. Or something. I just really like Dr. Pepper.
Today we set off again into the wide world of Europe. I will spend my next ten days galavanting through Prague, Amsterdam, Paris, Lisbon, Madrid, Barcelona, and Bern. Sounds crazy, I know, but I am just crazy enough to do it.
It’s my birthday and I’ll post random pictures if I want to. I call this one Bird Lady.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Mambo Italiano
“When it’s so cheap to buy a big pizza pie, that’s amore.”
Poor Italy, the land flowing with art and gondolas, or something to that effect. There she sat, all calm and Catholic, unaware of the large group of Americans with tourist maps and imposing backpacks that would soon descend upon this ancient land.
We arrived in Rome on the morning of Saturday, November 1st. Once we deposited our luggage in which we had haphazardly shoved our lives, we scattered ourselves among the city, peppering Rome with our American expectations. The Colosseum, the Forum, Circus Maximus, the Vatican, and authentic Italian food were our goals.
On our second day in Rome, a few friends and I stumbled upon Vatican City. I say “stumbled upon” because we all but tripped over St. Peter’s Basilica while wandering around several miles away from our hotel. Though we were going to spend the next morning at the Vatican with the entire group, we decided to go ahead and take a look at St. Peter’s and climb to the top of the dome. The dome was probably my favorite part of the entire Italy trip. Though I did notice that St. Peter’s is very strict about who they let in. Apparently they do not allow amputees, Cousin It, boxer shorts, or farmers who are missing chunks of their arms.
In addition to Rome, we also visited Florence and Venice, engaging in activities such as gaping at the perfection of Michelangelo’s David, searching for the cheapest gondola ride, and wearing pigeons as hats in St. Mark’s Square.
After our final group day in Venice, we dispersed ourselves among the continent for a weekend of free travel before mamboing our way back to our home/holding room in Vienna.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
I feel like a scuba diver sharing only 16 oxygen tanks with 54 other people. We are all drowning a little bit under the water of our school work and travel plans with only 16 computers with which to complete it all. And there’s always the city of Vienna attempting to lure us away from our responsibilities. (Though if we’re sticking with the underwater theme then a lure would be our salvation from drowning. If this analogy is to be our guide then we should all just abandon our work and explore the city. Forgive me for this gap in logic. Exploring the city is not the answer even if it is very tempting.)
Our first free travel passed with virtually no problems. All arrived back at the castle unscathed at least. My group visited Sweden, Norway, Ireland, and Scotland and along the way we learned a few things. First of all, we learned that Sweden does not accept Slovakian money. Do not try to pay with it. Also, keep money separate so that you don’t accidentally pay a friend back in the wrong currency and force them to look like an idiot when they try to pay with the money you stupidly gave them. Sorry, Jerica. Second we learned that the cheapest way to travel around Europe is to adopt the lifestyle of a hobo, making purchases only when necessary and stocking up on food during hostel breakfasts. Third we learned that if you travel in a group of five you will undoubtedly share a sleeper car on a train with a homeless-looking Beatles-type character, you will most definitely be put in a hostel with an intimidated 16-year-old French boy, and you will very rudely trap a man in the corner of a train compartment when you all try to lay the seats down and sleep. Six really is the best number.
Protesters in Dublin, Ireland. We still aren’t sure what they were protesting, but I love free too.
The 5 of us at the castle in Edinburgh, Scotland with the city in the background. Oh yes, in Scotland we also went to see Mary Poppins. Thus the blog title.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
An Excerpt from my Journal
One of the requirements of the Western Civ class that we are taking here in Europe is our journals. We have several (and when I say “several” I am actually sugar-coating the word “many”) sites in Vienna that we are required to see and journal about. Our journals include a bit of history on each site, our observations at the site, and our reflections after visiting the site. But not only are the journals for a grade, they are also our own personal souvenirs to help us remember our experience on this trip. I decided to give you, the reader, a look into my journal because I think it’s important and I don’t feel like writing anything original right now.
When I am old and wrinkled and confined to a scooter which I will undoubtedly use to run down the rudest of teenagers and most spoiled of children, I wonder what I will remember about this trip. Old Chelsey: remember the old man playing the accordian outside of Karlskirche? Remember how he smiled when he noticed you were taking pictures of him? You probably look something like him by now. I hope you’ve taken up the accordian. Remember how Amanda got up on Jerica’s shoulders in an attempt to get a picture of the church and its reflection in the pond in front of it? And do you remember how you were supposed to be steadying Amanda so that she didn’t fall, but you just ended up taking pictures of them instead? I hope you never do that when your future children are on someone’s shoulders. Please, steady them. Old Chelsey, do you remember the panic attack that you had after you stupidly climbed to the top of the church’s dome? And do you remember how, even though you were panicking, you were able to look passed it and see the beauty? I hope you never forget that.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Ten-Day Forecast
‘Twas the night before free travel and all through the Schloss
Every creature was stirring, all order was lost.
Bags were not packed, not at all, not with care,
In hopes we’d get through this without pulling out our hair.
The students were laying out clothes on their beds
While Paris, Berlin, and Prague danced in their heads.
The sponsors run frantically with last minute things to say.
They’re all looking forward to a student-free ten days.
And laying a hand on our one little bag
We run down the hill and try not to lag.
We dash to the train just in time for the whistle
And speed down the tracks like a high-powered missile.
But I heard voices exclaim as we chugged out of sight,
“Bon voyage to all, and to all a good flight.”
(Yes, I realize that I began describing a train ride and then switched to a plane. I only hope you will forgive me for seeking the perfect rhyme.)
My blogs will most likely be fewer and farther between for the next ten days as I will be trekking through Sweden, Norway, Ireland, and Scotland. Forgive me and I promise pictures.
PS-“The Night Before Christmas” is entirely too long. Be glad I didn’t parody the whole thing.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Stuck in the Middle with You
The trains were overcrowded on the way back to Vienna from our mission trip in Chemnitz, Germany. Our first train was late, something I thought trains never were, and then it broke down, leaving our group stranded at a random station in Germany while we waited for the next train. When our replacement arrived over an hour later, we quickly concluded that there was not enough room for us all to have seats. I sat on my backpack in the space between two cars, watching a man pull countless bottles of alcohol out of his bag and jumping to my feet to give people walking space everytime the train stopped.
Even though it was hot, cramped, and smelly, we tried to make the best of the situation, chatting with our fellow passengers about everything from our close quarters to religion and politics.
Sitting in that in-between space with someone’s suitcase only inches from my knees, I began to think about the decency of people. Strangers with whom I did not even share a language kept me informed of open seats in case I craved a more permanent location, they tried to help us figure out where to catch our next train, and they steaded those who wobbled at unexpected turns.
Next time I am stuck in the middle, this time in front of a bathroom, getting to my feet whenever Nature calls anyone, and Nature is very vocal, I hope to be stuck with such company, with such decency and selflessness. And I hope that people are too concerned about losing their seats to go to the bathroom.
Ben chats with a man on the train.
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Man Cannot Live on PB&J Alone
One of the big differences that I’ve noticed between the US and Europe is food. Though we can usually find the type of food that we’d eat at home, it doesn’t necessarily come in the same way. For instance, the concept of “fast food” is completely different here. Since eating is more of a social experience and Europeans will linger for hours over plates they cleaned in five minutes, drive-thrus do not exist. And even if they did, trams and buses do not make detours through these lines.
When you go to a restaurant in Europe you will most likely find two prices: one for to-go food and one for eat-in food. Eating in is more expensive because you also pay to sit in the restaurant. It is considered somewhat rude to request “take away” food, but my wallet is perfectly fine with being rude.
Europeans are also apparently not peanut butter fans. I had to go to several different stores to find peanut butter and when I did finally find some, the jar was tiny and overpriced. So much for the cheap PB&J route.
One of the gems of Europe is the kebab. I’m not talking about a shish kebab with chunks of meat and vegetables on a skewer, I’m talking about a doner kebab. When you order a kebab, the meat is shaved off of a larger piece of meat that rotates on a vertical spit and then put into pita bread and decorated with whatever fixings you please. Kebab stands can usually be found around the entrances to underground stations and many restaurants serve the dish as well.
If we could bring anything back with us, it would probably be kebabs and gelato.
Perhaps while I’m here I’ll learn how to cook meat on a vertical spit.
Shaving meat with what looks like an iron.
Monday, October 06, 2008
On a Mission
This past weekend many of us study abroaders had the opportunity to go to various churches in Croatia and serve the congregations in whatever ways we were needed. We were separated into four groups, the majority of which was stationed in or around the city of Zagreb. Our tasks ranged from conducting VBS and visiting a local orphanage to simply spending time with members of the church.
The funny thing about serving is that it’s usually never a one way thing. Even though we were the “missionaries” this weekend and were therefore technically the ones serving, the weekend wouldn’t have been possible if we had not been served in return. But Christian service is not an “I’ll scratch your back if you scratch my back” situation, it’s a selfless desire to commune with one another on the common ground of our faith in Jesus.
Service came to have a new meaning in my mind this weekend. Before I had thought that it was something that Christian did for non-Christians in an attempt to introduce them to God’s love. While that’s true, service is also something that Christians do for other Christians to remind them of the love that they already know.
Curtis doing dishes at the preacher’s house after his wife Dragitza (the spelling of whose name I made up) cooked us all the most fabulous meal we’ve ever had.
Friday, October 03, 2008
Sunrise, Sunset
It should have been raining outside. The wind should have been enough to lift a small child and the sound of thunder should have drowned out every word and every thought. But it was sunny. The breeze was gentle and all I could hear were birds and a distant dog bark.
The weather obviously was not aware of where we were. Had it known we were at Mauthausen Concentration Camp I’m sure it would have complied and cried for what happened here. But it was sunny and it was beautiful.
Before our group began to wander around the concentration camp in various states of solemnity, we gathered together in a sort of movie theater and watched a video about Mauthausen. In it, former prisoners described the atrocities that happened here. They told us about the Stairway of Death which is composed of over 200 uneven steps that prisoners were forced to carry heavy loads up. Many lost their balance and fell, creating a domino effect with those walking behind them. They also told us about some of the writings found on the walls. One prisoner wrote, “If there is a God, he’s going to have to beg my forgiveness.” As a Christian, I don’t even know how to respond to that.
It’s hard to imagine horrors when it’s a beautiful day out. It’s hard to think about death when you are standing in a gas chamber, looking at a rose hanging down from the pipes.
I guess that’s the way it should be. We should never forget what happened during the Holocaust but neither should we dwell on it. But while we think of it, we should try to find some beauty. One rose hanging from a gas pipe, one chirping bird flying by to remind you that there is hope.
I guess the weather had one thing right.
In the background, a memorial statue cries “Why?” and in the foreground, we remember hope.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
The Hills are Alive with the Sound of…Cow Bells?
This past weekend our entire group of study abroaders packed up and headed to the Austrian Alps for a retreat weekend. Never in my life did I think I would be able to say that I spent a weekend in the Austrian Alps, but if I kept a list of things I thought I’d never do, I’d now be able to cross that off.
The first two days were foggy, so the view was limited but haunting and still very beautiful. We spent the majority of the time just relaxing. We played cards, read, hiked if that’s your definition of relaxing, and we all overloaded on coffee and hot chocolate.
Hiking up to our cabin through the fog.
Even though I am from Texas and my actual home could not be further from the Austrian Alps, in both distance and atmosphere, I felt very at home this weekend. Free from the distractions of the computer and the lure of Vienna at our feet, we were all able to just sit and enjoy each others’ company, get lost in a game of Spades, and listen to the fire crackle.
The end to our perfect weekend came with clear skies, enough to enjoy the view on the hike back down to the bus. It was beautiful to look through the forest trees, across the Alps, and at the numerous herds of cows as we made our way back to the reality of our schoolwork and a life beyond rest.
Our new cow friends played their bells to underscore our walk back down.
It was the perfect weekend to get away, even though technically Vienna is already “away”, but now we have to buckle back down and focus on the last couple days or our classes, which is, after all, why we are here.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Hey Jude
Disclaimer: The title has nothing to do with the actual content of the entry, I have simply had the song stuck in my head for a while. Plus it’s a good way to say hi to my mother whose name is Judy.
There is no possible way that I could describe everything that has been going on so far on this trip, nor would you want to read that long of an entry. We have done so much in such a short amount of time. Though we are only officially in class for two and a half hours, four days a week, the city of Vienna is our classroom and we are constantly learning from it. I have found, though, that my favorite experiences involve the people and culture of Vienna.
This is a Viennese man (I assume) playing the accordian. I thought he was adorable. I admit, this is a random picture.
Here in Vienna many of us have had the opportunity to work with a local children’s shelter which is much like an afterschool program for local kids. We spend most of the time just getting to know the kids, but we also help them with their homework, help cook their dinner, and clean up after they leave.
Ben at the shelter, contemplating his next chess move.
Thankfully these kids know some of the same games we do.
Unfortunately, as we found out while trying to help with math homework, these kids can count higher than we can.
We have also been able to go to a local German-speaking church. The congregation has made us feel very welcome by having someone translate the services for us and inviting us to stay for lunch.
After church, Mary and Jerica made friends.
Fortunately for us, the trip has only just begun. We still have two more months to travel and develop relationships that we will remember for the rest of our lives.
Friday, September 12, 2008
London Bridge Did Not Fall Down-Highlights from London
I wish I could illustrate for you the last couple of hours of attempting to post pictures on this blog. I don’t know exactly what the illustration would look like, but I do know that it would be chaotic, and it would convey stress and probably show me pulling out my hair. And after all is said and done, I don’t even have good pictures to post. Turns out all my good photos are divas who refuse to show their faces until they have been properly made up with fancy editing and all that jazz. Such is life.
This is Big Ben, though I’m sure you knew that. It was the first thing I saw as I stepped out of the Westminster underground station. And it was beautiful.
Westminster Abbey. Obviously this isn’t far from the Westminster station either.
Tower of London, which, as our guide reminded us several times, actually consists of 20 towers.
Jerica and I eating fish and chips. A real London experience.
I just thought this was pretty. Feel free to ooh and aah.
Part of the view from the top of St. Paul’s Cathedral.
My face at the top of St. Paul’s Cathedral. Oh yes, I remember now, I’m afraid of height. And in quite the predicament.
St. Paul’s Cathedral from the street. Do you see the very top of the dome? That’s where I almost died of fright. I’m exaggerating but only a little.
Changing of the gaurds at Buchingham Palace. My camera had a much better view than I did.
We are now in Vienna and just settling in at the castle. Cars are back to driving on the right side of the road again, and even though we were only in London for a few days, we had all gotten used to cars on the left side and now we have no idea which way to look when crossing the road. We’ve already started some of our classes, but other than that, these next few days will most likely be spent acquainting ourselves with a new city.