Back to America for Miss Eleanor, the money is out, and the home lands call. I am on my fourth day back here in trendy and foggy Portland, Oregon. I have returned to the Jarrett house and it was lovely to see my smiling roommates and to redecorate my room with all my lovely little things. I rescuscitated my plants and cleaned the kitchen. Things are back to normal (except, of course, and thanks be to God and the American people, Obama is now President!).
As I look back on me on my travels, I see myself seeing beautiful architecture and engaging with interesting people from all over the world. I remember fantastic pieces of art and fascinating markets, foreign religions and incredible snow-capped peaks, good food and food poisoning, paradisical beaches and horrid bus rides, loneliness and the spark and boldness of new love. There were some amazing experiences and time to reflect on my habits and dreams. It seems there should be an enlightened finality as my trip 'round the world comes full circle; as if the journey somehow led me to life-changing decisions or perhaps a new vision of my role in the Cosmos. In actuality, I have no grandiose conclusions, no profound pieces of wisdom that come easily to my fingertips. As I get older, the changes in my are more subtle, gradual, and calm. Despite having no conclusions, I feel blessed and satisfied with my journey. The experiences of the recent past are within me and influence my actions and reactions in daily life.
And Portland? That pretty city I bragged about to the people I met on my adventures? Well, the lattes are still having their foam artfully spooned and the scene is stay full of eager creative entrepeneurs, patched-up punks, new-era dreadlocks from Middle America, bearded writers, and outdoorsy families creating the alternative bubble that is 'our' city. It is a stimulating environment for artistic ventures, and yet it feels closed off from the rest of the world somehow, a self-perpetuating attitude of I-am-more-up-and-coming-Portland-than-thou pervading the coffeee shops, boutiques, bars, and restaurants. When the whole population is alternative, doesn't that make alternative the conservative? And so these are some of my first impressions on returning home, the imprints of my recent visions of foreign places and other ways of living still fresh in my mind's eye.
When traveling, unexpected things occur daily, and new sights and experiences awaken new parts of one's being. The familiarity and regularity of home are comforting, but they also can lead to a feeling of stagnation. I suppose it is just a different way of being that I will soon adapt to. As I search for a new place of employment and get back into the daily routines, optimism, confidence, abundance, and calm are my words of self-wisdom, the lessons I learned during my travels. Life in Portland for me will be beautiful, and I will enjoy it for its positive qualities. Four months wasn't so long afterall, but, the pieces of memory remain in my mind and heart, and a piece of me remains in the midst of the Austrian Alps. The flame of adventure resides within me, and awaits to be awakened once again.
31 January 2009
New Year's Eve at the Alm
The New Year's adventure began with a two hour trek up a curvy snow-covered road to a cow farm with no electricity, but instead bright stars in the silent wintry night. Halfway up the slippery slopes I had to remind myself that the carting the heavy backpack like a pack animal along Alpine trails was worth it because of the future enjoyment of the champagne and gluwein...
Myself and my fellow six Austrians spent the next two days and nights 'round the kitchen table with candles, a wood stove, and lots of beverages keeping us nice and toasty. I taught everyone Hearts and explained the popularity of mustaches and mustache parties back in my native land. Meanwhile I was gifted with renditions of the German dialect of Tirolian farmers and heard complicated translations of simple jokes.
For the big year turnover, we lit up paper lanterns and watched them fade away into the distance, carrying our wishes and blessings to faraway lands. Meanwhile all the valleys below were filled with bright multi-colored flashes as people celebrated with explosions all around.
Myself and my fellow six Austrians spent the next two days and nights 'round the kitchen table with candles, a wood stove, and lots of beverages keeping us nice and toasty. I taught everyone Hearts and explained the popularity of mustaches and mustache parties back in my native land. Meanwhile I was gifted with renditions of the German dialect of Tirolian farmers and heard complicated translations of simple jokes.
For the big year turnover, we lit up paper lanterns and watched them fade away into the distance, carrying our wishes and blessings to faraway lands. Meanwhile all the valleys below were filled with bright multi-colored flashes as people celebrated with explosions all around.
05 January 2009
Prague: the Czech Experience
Ready for another adventure, Klaus and I decided to travel to Prague for four days. Our day long journey to get there consisted of changing trains four times, which actually made the eight hours feel shorter. I watched out the window for signs of our crossing the border (the Czech Republic is in the EU), and sure enough, the picturesque Bavarian villages and perfect fields gave way to gray forest and then very small A-frame houses, and towns with their buildings gray and falling apart, marked with graffiti. From the industrial feeling, the grayness of the landscape, the delapidated past decadence of our train cabin (dirty red leather), and the drunken shouts and occasional screams from another cabin (you can drink in public in Europe), I couldn't help but imagine a man with an unshaved chin, a glass bottle of vodka and a crazed look charging into our cabin. Nothing too out of the ordinary happened, however, and we arrived safely at the train station.
It was cold, oh so cold. As we made our way to our hostel, I was aware of this slight feeling of sketchiness- men with their hands in their pockets waiting for something, graffiti on each building. It all seemed to climax when Klaus stepped on a piece of metal wire that went through the sole of his shoe and into his big toe! It was a mild injury, though, and I was assured he had his tetanus shot. Luckily, the hostel turned out to be very cool, with curly-cue designs on red walls, funky art, a comfy atmosphere, and an open kitchen. It was nice to return here each night.
Winter is not the best time to visit Prague, as it was so cold and so gray. We split up the cold hours with hot Gluwein and coffee breaks. Prague is a very very old city, and the architecture was definitely the highlight of the experience for me. Our guidebook was right in saying you have to walk looking up in Prague. The buildings are decorated with murals, painted designs, carved wood and carved stone, stained glass, towers and domes, courtyards and arches. My favorite are those in the Art Deco and Art Nouveau styles. Wow. Really amazing. I imagined the society here in the early 20th century, fur-coated and -hatted with pearls and bow ties, making their way throught the grand doors and under the chandeliers. The famous Art Nouveau poster artist Mucha is from the Czech, and I visited the museum of his work, too.
We went to a puppet show of Mozart's opera "The Magic Flute," drank Czech beer (I decided to forego the absinthe), ate delicious Italian food, and visited an incredible old and overgrown cementary. The broken angels on the frozen earth and cracked tombs revealing the coffins represented to me the slightly creepy, but magical and historical sense of the city.
It was cold, oh so cold. As we made our way to our hostel, I was aware of this slight feeling of sketchiness- men with their hands in their pockets waiting for something, graffiti on each building. It all seemed to climax when Klaus stepped on a piece of metal wire that went through the sole of his shoe and into his big toe! It was a mild injury, though, and I was assured he had his tetanus shot. Luckily, the hostel turned out to be very cool, with curly-cue designs on red walls, funky art, a comfy atmosphere, and an open kitchen. It was nice to return here each night.
Winter is not the best time to visit Prague, as it was so cold and so gray. We split up the cold hours with hot Gluwein and coffee breaks. Prague is a very very old city, and the architecture was definitely the highlight of the experience for me. Our guidebook was right in saying you have to walk looking up in Prague. The buildings are decorated with murals, painted designs, carved wood and carved stone, stained glass, towers and domes, courtyards and arches. My favorite are those in the Art Deco and Art Nouveau styles. Wow. Really amazing. I imagined the society here in the early 20th century, fur-coated and -hatted with pearls and bow ties, making their way throught the grand doors and under the chandeliers. The famous Art Nouveau poster artist Mucha is from the Czech, and I visited the museum of his work, too.
We went to a puppet show of Mozart's opera "The Magic Flute," drank Czech beer (I decided to forego the absinthe), ate delicious Italian food, and visited an incredible old and overgrown cementary. The broken angels on the frozen earth and cracked tombs revealing the coffins represented to me the slightly creepy, but magical and historical sense of the city.
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