Busy people running around, making last minute purchases for the impending holiday, students itching to start their vacation, trying to pack for the journey home, Christmas is upon us. Last night, I hardly slept, twisting and turning with anticipation of being home for the holidays.
With the blink of an eye, so passes more than four months abroad. When I think back on it, so much has happened in so little time. Research, work, travel, exploration, friendships - life has been so exciting, so rewarding lately, that I can't help but feel grateful for how wonderful life truly is.
As I left school today, teaching for the last time this year, I felt such great joy and accomplishment, having survived and blossomed in my new position. I enjoy my work, where I work, and with whom I work. Walking out of the building, with gift bottles of wine and Champagne under my arms, out under the magnificently blue sky, I felt pretty darn satisfied with how my life's made its path. I spent the afternoon in my favorite café and tonight I get to have one last dinner this term with my wonderful friends. Life is good, life is good, life is good. Despite whatever hardships you might be thrown, you'll always be drawn down a path in the end more beautiful than you could have ever imagined.
Six more months await, with lots of adventures to be had, with lessons to be learned, with friendships to be strengthened, but for now, it's time to step away and be at home. From the bottom of my heart, I wish all a Blessed Christmas and warm wishes for health and luck in the New Year.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Sunday, December 16, 2012
One More Week
Less than 7 days to go, and I'll be able to go home for Christmas. Even though there's plenty of teaching to be done, a seminar to attend, gifts to buy, and a party to hold, my mind's already dreaming of laying on the floor with my dogs, playing my piano (which I desperately, desperately miss), eating my parents' cooking, sleeping in my bed, driving, visiting friends and family, being home. In German, there's a beautiful word, "Heimat," which carries the meaning and feelings of a place where one is physically, spiritually, emotionally home - the place that calls to him whenever he is abroad, where memories reside, where one's completeness rests. As much as I love my life here, and that's quite a lot, it is not, cannot be my Heimat. It's only been three months since I've been home, and when at university, three months was a walk in the park. But, being thousands of miles and hours upon hours away, living amidst a different culture, working in a different language, being away from all things familiar, it can at times be rough. Thankfully, I've made some wonderful friends who have eased the transition and who have made homesickness a seldom appearing guest under my roof.
This past week was really busy, but also very rewarding. Pretty much since I arrived here, I've been writing away for grad school applications. In making the transition from psychology to history, I've had to make up a lot of ground in terms of writing scholarly papers using historical methodology, which was a process I had to entirely teach myself because most of the programs to which I applied required a writing sample of a history essay. At times, I felt like completing the applications was a job unto itself, often requiring hours at a time behind the keyboard, fastidiously typing away. I had to write a résumé, which I loathed. Chronicling my achievements in the best possible light - in a sense, advertising myself - really isn't my cup of tea, but I'm happy with how it turned out. I had a handful of excellent professors with whom I've formed friendships over the years write my letters of recommendation, and I wrote tailored personal statements for each program to which I applied. Overall, I only wrote about thirty pages, but these pages had to be so carefully worded, so articulate and precise, so concise and self-revealing that, at times, I perspired, trying to think of how best to phrase a sentence. It was the most demanding writing I've done yet, but hopefully it's not for naught - today, the very last application was submitted! Now the long wait, but I'm hopeful!
During the week, two friends and I met at the train station after dinner and rode about 30 minutes northeast of Salzburg to a tiny village on the Austro-German border called Oberndorf. One of my students sat next to us on the train, and he tried to hold a conversation with us. The lady sitting across from him was interested in practicing her English, too, apparently, and complimented our nice charisma, which was warmly received! As we stepped off the train, that same lady offered to take us to our destination. Across roads and down dark residential paths, we arrived after a brisk walk. Before us stood a small market square, an old grain mill, and, up on a low-rising hill, the tiniest free standing chapel I've ever seen. Inside this white chapel, covered in beautiful, soft snow, candles were lit and the Advent wreath hung above our heads. The chapel marks the spot where, nearly 200 years ago, a priest and a school teacher wrote and performed a simple song called "Stille Nacht," "Silent Night." I got pretty caught up in the moment - standing in a chapel no bigger than my kitchen, seeing the soft lights reflected in the fresh blanket of snow, realizing this was the spot where the world first heard one of the most famous Christmas carols, indeed, one of the most famous songs ever. It was the same song that British and German soldiers sang together on the front lines during a brief pause in fighting during the First World War on Christmas Eve 1914. After taking a moment in the chapel, we walked to the tiny Christkindlmarkt below, where only one of maybe a dozen stands was open. The vendor was serving warm drinks, and we tried the pear cider, which was outstanding. Afterwards, we decided to walk a long the Salzach river, the same that divides Salzburg, and which serves as the border between Austria and Germany. We came to a bridge after about five minutes, and crossed it into Germany. Halfway, we turned around and saw a magnificent illuminated staircase carved into the hillside, at the top of which stood a beautiful Baroque oratory to the Crucified Christ - breathtaking. We continued into the little city of Laufen, of which Oberndorf was once apart. During World War II, the city's centrally located castle served as a prison for captured British intelligence officers. The town was so pretty, blanketed in snow, silence, and Christmas lights. In the main square stood a tall Christmas tree, with lights all around the place. We continued and crossed another bridge back into Oberndorf. Probably the two most enchanting hours I've spent here so far - just wonderful, and so Christmas-y.
The other night, a few of us gathered at a friend's apartment for Chinese food and a movie. After a few tries of Austria's take on Chinese food, I think I've thrown in the towel. I know what we have back in the States isn't "real" Chinese food, but it's just so delicious! I miss it. Anyway, we watched my absolute favorite Christmastime movie: Love Actually. It's such a "feel good" movie, and I always, always laugh at a few of the scenes. My particular favorite is one featuring Alan Rickman (Prof. Snape) and Rowan Atkinson (Mr. Bean). Rickman's character wants to have a necklace gift wrapped in a department store, and Atkinson's character starts his job. After placing the necklace in a nice box, the clerk pulls out a clear plastic bag, to which Rickman says, "Oh, I don't need a bag." Clerk: Oh, this isn't a bag. This is so much more than a bag, sir. He then proceeds to scoop potpourri from a potpourri drawer into the bag, a cinnamon stick, and a sprig of holly, all to the disgruntled and hurried dismay of Rickman's character - I lose it every time, with tears in my eyes - hysterical! Just a wonderful movie about how people in love show their love, and it gets me into the Christmas mood like nothing else.
Santa Claus came a bit early this year. A few weeks ago, I wrote an essay for a competition within the Fulbright network, and it turns out I was selected as one of the winners! I'm going on an all-expenses paid trip to Luxembourg, Brussels, and Bruges the first week of March to attend conferences at NATO and the UN, and, of course, there's lots of sightseeing built into the week. I'm really, really excited because I think the opportunity to see how these bodies work will be interesting, and on top of that, I get to visit two countries I've always wanted to explore. The perks of this job keep revealing themselves, and I'm so thankful to be here.
We're throwing a Christmas party on Sunday, and I've volunteered to make lasagna. Had I known just how difficult it would have been to collect the ingredients, I mightn't have suggested it, but, I think we're set. "Italian sausage" is a purely American invention, I've come to realize. After scouring six big stores here, and three smaller Italian specialty shops, I had to resort to buying the ground pork and seasoning it myself - fingers crossed, it's edible! I'm using my mom's recipe, which, with the exception of the Immaculate Conception and the grammatical tense, is the only perfect thing in this universe. No pressure or anything, but I hope it comes out okay for everyone's sake. Wish me luck!
 |
| "'Don't you cry, I'll be back again some day.'" Perhaps Austria's only Frosty. |
This past week was really busy, but also very rewarding. Pretty much since I arrived here, I've been writing away for grad school applications. In making the transition from psychology to history, I've had to make up a lot of ground in terms of writing scholarly papers using historical methodology, which was a process I had to entirely teach myself because most of the programs to which I applied required a writing sample of a history essay. At times, I felt like completing the applications was a job unto itself, often requiring hours at a time behind the keyboard, fastidiously typing away. I had to write a résumé, which I loathed. Chronicling my achievements in the best possible light - in a sense, advertising myself - really isn't my cup of tea, but I'm happy with how it turned out. I had a handful of excellent professors with whom I've formed friendships over the years write my letters of recommendation, and I wrote tailored personal statements for each program to which I applied. Overall, I only wrote about thirty pages, but these pages had to be so carefully worded, so articulate and precise, so concise and self-revealing that, at times, I perspired, trying to think of how best to phrase a sentence. It was the most demanding writing I've done yet, but hopefully it's not for naught - today, the very last application was submitted! Now the long wait, but I'm hopeful!
During the week, two friends and I met at the train station after dinner and rode about 30 minutes northeast of Salzburg to a tiny village on the Austro-German border called Oberndorf. One of my students sat next to us on the train, and he tried to hold a conversation with us. The lady sitting across from him was interested in practicing her English, too, apparently, and complimented our nice charisma, which was warmly received! As we stepped off the train, that same lady offered to take us to our destination. Across roads and down dark residential paths, we arrived after a brisk walk. Before us stood a small market square, an old grain mill, and, up on a low-rising hill, the tiniest free standing chapel I've ever seen. Inside this white chapel, covered in beautiful, soft snow, candles were lit and the Advent wreath hung above our heads. The chapel marks the spot where, nearly 200 years ago, a priest and a school teacher wrote and performed a simple song called "Stille Nacht," "Silent Night." I got pretty caught up in the moment - standing in a chapel no bigger than my kitchen, seeing the soft lights reflected in the fresh blanket of snow, realizing this was the spot where the world first heard one of the most famous Christmas carols, indeed, one of the most famous songs ever. It was the same song that British and German soldiers sang together on the front lines during a brief pause in fighting during the First World War on Christmas Eve 1914. After taking a moment in the chapel, we walked to the tiny Christkindlmarkt below, where only one of maybe a dozen stands was open. The vendor was serving warm drinks, and we tried the pear cider, which was outstanding. Afterwards, we decided to walk a long the Salzach river, the same that divides Salzburg, and which serves as the border between Austria and Germany. We came to a bridge after about five minutes, and crossed it into Germany. Halfway, we turned around and saw a magnificent illuminated staircase carved into the hillside, at the top of which stood a beautiful Baroque oratory to the Crucified Christ - breathtaking. We continued into the little city of Laufen, of which Oberndorf was once apart. During World War II, the city's centrally located castle served as a prison for captured British intelligence officers. The town was so pretty, blanketed in snow, silence, and Christmas lights. In the main square stood a tall Christmas tree, with lights all around the place. We continued and crossed another bridge back into Oberndorf. Probably the two most enchanting hours I've spent here so far - just wonderful, and so Christmas-y.
 |
| "Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht." |
The other night, a few of us gathered at a friend's apartment for Chinese food and a movie. After a few tries of Austria's take on Chinese food, I think I've thrown in the towel. I know what we have back in the States isn't "real" Chinese food, but it's just so delicious! I miss it. Anyway, we watched my absolute favorite Christmastime movie: Love Actually. It's such a "feel good" movie, and I always, always laugh at a few of the scenes. My particular favorite is one featuring Alan Rickman (Prof. Snape) and Rowan Atkinson (Mr. Bean). Rickman's character wants to have a necklace gift wrapped in a department store, and Atkinson's character starts his job. After placing the necklace in a nice box, the clerk pulls out a clear plastic bag, to which Rickman says, "Oh, I don't need a bag." Clerk: Oh, this isn't a bag. This is so much more than a bag, sir. He then proceeds to scoop potpourri from a potpourri drawer into the bag, a cinnamon stick, and a sprig of holly, all to the disgruntled and hurried dismay of Rickman's character - I lose it every time, with tears in my eyes - hysterical! Just a wonderful movie about how people in love show their love, and it gets me into the Christmas mood like nothing else.
Santa Claus came a bit early this year. A few weeks ago, I wrote an essay for a competition within the Fulbright network, and it turns out I was selected as one of the winners! I'm going on an all-expenses paid trip to Luxembourg, Brussels, and Bruges the first week of March to attend conferences at NATO and the UN, and, of course, there's lots of sightseeing built into the week. I'm really, really excited because I think the opportunity to see how these bodies work will be interesting, and on top of that, I get to visit two countries I've always wanted to explore. The perks of this job keep revealing themselves, and I'm so thankful to be here.
We're throwing a Christmas party on Sunday, and I've volunteered to make lasagna. Had I known just how difficult it would have been to collect the ingredients, I mightn't have suggested it, but, I think we're set. "Italian sausage" is a purely American invention, I've come to realize. After scouring six big stores here, and three smaller Italian specialty shops, I had to resort to buying the ground pork and seasoning it myself - fingers crossed, it's edible! I'm using my mom's recipe, which, with the exception of the Immaculate Conception and the grammatical tense, is the only perfect thing in this universe. No pressure or anything, but I hope it comes out okay for everyone's sake. Wish me luck!
Monday, December 10, 2012
Hitchcock Without the Murder
Looking out my rear window, big snow flakes the size of cotton balls gently fall. It's been snowing for several day now, and it is cold, very cold. My building lines three-quarters of a central courtyard - a small apartment building and a hotel rounds off the fourth quarter. Across the way, I can see festive candles in windowsills, and families sitting down together to enjoy meals with each other. Birds sit in the now-barren trees, singing their last songs before they fly south towards the Mediterranean for the winter, a puppy plays in the fluffy snow - judging by his small size, its probably it's first time seeing snow. People sit on their balconies during the evening, smoking and drinking, reflecting on the day and relaxing in one another's company. The other night, I was in the middle of typing an essay when I heard one of my favorite sounds in the world - brass instruments playing Christmas carols. "Still, still, still," "Adeste Fideles," "Minuit, chrétiens," "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing," "O Tannenbaum," "Stille Nacht," and "O du fröhliche." Six of them played in the cold courtyard below my window. Windows opened, and one by one, neighbors poked their heads out to get a better listen and to watch the musicians. More than anything, I think, traditional Christmas carols get me in the Christmas state of mind. Time-tested melodies and treasured lyrics that seem to put aside all of the riffraff that often surrounds this time of year - songs to which we all know the words, or at least how the tune goes. Christmas music is something which binds our cultures together - the same songs performed both here and at home. Listening to those musicians, seeing their brass instruments glisten in the lights coming from the hotel's Christmas trees, brought me to a place of warmth and familiarity. I could nearly smell the house on Christmas morning, with dinner in the oven. Each room is decorated with nutcrackers and angels, the tree stands tall and beautiful in the center of the living room. Mom in her robe and Dad in his slippers, the dogs rushing about all the excitement. Christmas cookies await in my grandmother's old tins on the counter top, and the Panetonne is sliced on the table. Too excited to sleep after Mass, I'm still a bit tired, but that doesn't matter - it's Christmas morning. Opening gifts and stockings, eating a tremendous meal with family, maybe going for a walk around the block, and, for one of the very few times of the year, simply, completely enjoying the day without a worry in sight. It's one of the few words I can think of where I'm overcome with memories and feelings at it's very mention - Christmas.
The final countdown has commenced, and this will be my last full week in Europe until 2013. As wonderful as it is here, I truly am so looking forward to being home for Christmas. I miss my family and my friends tremendously. In a way, I'm envious of my English friends, as home's just a hop, skip, and a jump away, but looking on the bright side, being so far away from those I love only strengthens my appreciation for them and for home. I'm starting to make plans to meet with friends back down at the Shore, and I'm getting really excited to see everyone again - the last time I'll be able to see them until July when I return home. Today a few of us are meeting for coffee to bid a temporary farewell to one of our friends who's leaving soon for the holiday. Just over a week to go, and I'll be there myself!
This was a sleepy weekend, not doing too much. We had our supplementary orientation Friday, which wasn't as bad as it could have been, thankfully, but it was a long day. Later that evening we all gathered at Augustinerbräu, home to Austria's largest Biergarten, for a few beers with some visiting friends and one of my English friend's family. Its a big, rowdy place, but it's one of my favorite places in the city to visit. You get to pick your own mug, wash it, and have it filled with your choice of seasonal beer, and most nights, particularly on weekends, Lederhosen are abundant. It's just a fun place to go with friends, and that's exactly what Friday night was - a great time with friends.
Saturday was very cold, but one of my friend's boyfriend was in town for the weekend, so a group of us met up and revisited the Strudel café. What I had ordered the first time was so amazing, that I just had to get it again. We crammed around a little table, but we had a nice time. We explored the markets afterwards, and I picked up a much needed pair of warmer gloves. That evening, we planned on going to an ice hockey game - the Salzburg Oilers vs. Weiz Bulls. We got there a bit early to "beat the crowds." When the beer cost more than the entrance fare, we should have known we were in for a surprise. The verdict is still out on whether there were more people on the ice than in the stands, but we did get to select any seat we wanted! There were two groups who were running a little late, so I had some fun, texting them that it was jam-packed, and that we were trying to hold their seats for as long as possible. When they arrived and saw virtually empty stands, they were not amused. But I sure was! The game was actually a lot of fun, though, and it turned out to be a great night. Sunday was just cold. I very nearly froze to death in Church, despite wearing 4 layers of clothing. I made some headway on some writing, and prepared my 12 introductory lessons for the week.... They're predicting snow nearly every day this week, and the temperature isn't supposed to rise above 32°. My Colombian flatmate has just left for Bogota for the holidays, so the music's stopped for now. The combination of excitement for Christmas and finding the motivation to make it through one more weekend is a tricky one, so I need to keep myself busy so that the time flies by. But first, it's off to coffee...
The final countdown has commenced, and this will be my last full week in Europe until 2013. As wonderful as it is here, I truly am so looking forward to being home for Christmas. I miss my family and my friends tremendously. In a way, I'm envious of my English friends, as home's just a hop, skip, and a jump away, but looking on the bright side, being so far away from those I love only strengthens my appreciation for them and for home. I'm starting to make plans to meet with friends back down at the Shore, and I'm getting really excited to see everyone again - the last time I'll be able to see them until July when I return home. Today a few of us are meeting for coffee to bid a temporary farewell to one of our friends who's leaving soon for the holiday. Just over a week to go, and I'll be there myself!
This was a sleepy weekend, not doing too much. We had our supplementary orientation Friday, which wasn't as bad as it could have been, thankfully, but it was a long day. Later that evening we all gathered at Augustinerbräu, home to Austria's largest Biergarten, for a few beers with some visiting friends and one of my English friend's family. Its a big, rowdy place, but it's one of my favorite places in the city to visit. You get to pick your own mug, wash it, and have it filled with your choice of seasonal beer, and most nights, particularly on weekends, Lederhosen are abundant. It's just a fun place to go with friends, and that's exactly what Friday night was - a great time with friends.
Saturday was very cold, but one of my friend's boyfriend was in town for the weekend, so a group of us met up and revisited the Strudel café. What I had ordered the first time was so amazing, that I just had to get it again. We crammed around a little table, but we had a nice time. We explored the markets afterwards, and I picked up a much needed pair of warmer gloves. That evening, we planned on going to an ice hockey game - the Salzburg Oilers vs. Weiz Bulls. We got there a bit early to "beat the crowds." When the beer cost more than the entrance fare, we should have known we were in for a surprise. The verdict is still out on whether there were more people on the ice than in the stands, but we did get to select any seat we wanted! There were two groups who were running a little late, so I had some fun, texting them that it was jam-packed, and that we were trying to hold their seats for as long as possible. When they arrived and saw virtually empty stands, they were not amused. But I sure was! The game was actually a lot of fun, though, and it turned out to be a great night. Sunday was just cold. I very nearly froze to death in Church, despite wearing 4 layers of clothing. I made some headway on some writing, and prepared my 12 introductory lessons for the week.... They're predicting snow nearly every day this week, and the temperature isn't supposed to rise above 32°. My Colombian flatmate has just left for Bogota for the holidays, so the music's stopped for now. The combination of excitement for Christmas and finding the motivation to make it through one more weekend is a tricky one, so I need to keep myself busy so that the time flies by. But first, it's off to coffee...
 |
| Eternally beautiful Salzburg |
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Coal is so Passive
Snow falls silently on an aged city, blanketing everything in a brilliant white. The low-hanging clouds obscure the distant mountains as Christmas lights shine warmly through the wintry night. Days grow darker and darker, but spirits continually grow higher in anticipation of the holidays. The city is in top form, catering not only to thousands of tourists who flock to its center, but also to traditions of markets, yuletide joy, and pious preparation. Last Saturday, many of us gathered in the Church of Nonnberg Abbey of Sound of Music fame, which, along with neighboring St. Peter's Archabbey, is the oldest monastic institution north of the Alps, for a choral concert of carols (though, I could't quite say they were all Advent themed), as performed by the students of a fellow teaching assistant's school. Short, sweet, and pretty darn good for a group of non-musician kids. At the end of the concert, a Benedictine nun in full habit said a few words. It was the first time a few of the other TAs had seen a nun, and I got a big kick out of that - 'twas like an ordinary day back at University! Afterwards, we traveled by bus just south of the city to Schloss Hellbrunn, the former summer residence of the Prince-Archbishops of Salzburg. There, a quaint Christkindlmarkt stood in the courtyard and surrounding pathways. Some Glühwein with friends, admiration for the beauty of the palace lit at night, and maybe even some frostbite. Beyond freezing temperatures and wind definitely took the life out of the party, and no less than an hour after arrival, we were on the bus returning to the city. We then tried to stop for a few drinks and maybe something to warm us up at one of our favorite places in the Altstadt, a giant beer hall named Stieglkeller on the mountainside below the fortress, but we encountered a dilemma that we've faced several times now - reservations. With the influx of tourism surrounding the Christmas markets, a reservation is most often required at nearly every restaurant in town, especially for a group as large as ours.
The next day, a few of us ventured out into the cold again for a football match between FC Red Bull Salzburg and FK Austria Wien, which is the Vienna-based team that is Salzburg's traditional rival. One of the teaching assistant's boyfriend is Austrian, and he got us terrific tickets second row from the field. It was ever so slightly snowing, but we braved the weather and had a lot of fun. The two teams were vying for first and second places in their league, but to the dismay of most of the fans, no one scored during the game. I'm not a huge sports buff, so when I do find myself at a sporting event, I get sidetracked very easily. I think I found watching the fan sections just as invigorating as the game itself. The last time I was at a soccer game was on a high school trip senior year to Buenos Aires - giant banners, confetti, drums and brass instruments, fireworks, and so many fans jumping in unison that the stadium shook - one of the most exciting events of my life. Austrian fans are a lot tamer, but still so much fun to observe. Only in Salzburg would they have a chant following the melody of Mozart's Symphony No. 40! It was great fun, and I'm so happy I made it to a game, as I hadn't the last time I was here. I'm hoping to catch another game in the spring, once the weather's warmed.
This was an easy week in the classroom - only a few introductions, and my Friday classes were cancelled so that I may attend a board of education-sponsored seminar for all teaching assistants within the province. I laughed at one of the related emails we received, asking us to bring our most successful lesson to share with the group. I imagine the other assistants have at least a dozen different, exciting lessons from which to choose. I have...hmm, let me count...one. Oh right, I've only done my introductory lesson! I will have to explain to the moderators tomorrow because I feel that they'd think I am awfully narcissistic if I present a lesson about myself as my favorite lesson without qualification!
Today is the Feast of Saint Nicholas, the religious forerunner to our beloved Santa Claus, whose name is derived from the Dutch spelling of St. Nick, Sinterklaas. Here, Santa Claus isn't entirely the jolly, fat man most of us imagine, but rather takes an episcopal approach, dressing in the alb, cope, and miter of a bishop, with crozier in hand. And here's where a cultural difference comes into play. What do naughty children get back home for Christmas instead of presents? Coal, right? Okay, that's all good and well. Now, what do Austrian children get when they've been naughty? Coal? No. They get a troop of demonic creatures that come down from the mountain with St. Nicholas and throw bad children in their basket and take them up to the mountains from where they're never heard of again. One look at these things, called Krampusse (sing: Krampus), and you wonder how Austrian children are not he most well behaved Kinder in the world. Terrifying doesn't begin to explain how scary these monsters are. In many Alpine towns, there is a tradition event called a Krampuslauf (Krampus run) the day before the Feast, in which Krampusse parade through the center of town with their giant cow bells, scaring all who watch. Also by tradition, Krampusse carry bundles of branches or small whips, with which they hit the legs of girls, particularly blondes (why this is, I have no clue). I've heard about the Krampus for years, and it absolutely made my day to actually witness a Krampuslauf. A bunch of us gathered in the Aldstadt, and I think we were all a bit jittery, not sure what quite to expect. A few screams, and some running children, then we heard the bells...the Krampuslauf had begun. These monsters paraded down a small pedestrian street, hitting nearly all the girls in sight. The girls were screaming, and one of the Krampusse even tried to drag one of the girls with him - I was doubled over, laughing so hard that my cheeks hurt so much by night's end! After they had passed, a few of us went down an alley and cut across a few squares to get ahead of them, to try and get a few more pictures. Bad idea. Once they got to the final square, the "lauf" was over, and they were set free on the city. All Hell broke loose. During their parade, they were meandering down the street. Now, they were running on a wild rampage, hitting everyone in sight. People were running and screaming, and I got hit myself - jeez, those branches sting! The look on unassuming tourists' faces was priceless. Little did they know that visiting a beautiful Christmas market also meant getting beaten by the devil incarnate. One of the teaching assistants has a friend from the States visiting Europe for the first time, and the Krampuslauf was one of her first experiences here - welcome to Austria! After running and hiding to save our skins, we realized we had been separated from the rest of the group - they followed the Krampusse, and the girl who had nearly been dragged into the street was actually thrown over the shoulder of the very same Krampus who had attacked her earlier and carried down the street. Horrific. The Krampusse are now monitored by police, so they're fairly regulated and safe, but their whipping still hurts! 2 of my teachers were explaining how they were in a small tavern about 5 years ago on the night of the Krampuslauf - they were enjoying dinner when all of a sudden people started screaming and jumped on tables as about a dozen Krampusse stormed the restaurant and started beating people. It became so violent that 20 police officer were called in to stop the carnage - my teacher was hospitalized. Yesterday, another teacher showed me the bruises on the back of her legs - her students disguised as Krampusse had attacked her the day before. After the nightmare on Earth, which seemed more like a scene out of some medieval Italian painting about the last judgement than a "fun mountain tradition," as it had been described to me, we went to a beer hall above the town. Mid-meal, a man who had just left the room to use the facilities ran back in and said to his wife "they're coming." Cow bells. The Krampusse paraded around the tables, ruffling the feathers of the girls. On the outside, I was laughing and smiling, but on the inside, I very nearly wet myself. THIS is cultural immersion.
 |
| Christkindlmarkt at Schloss Hellbrunn |
The next day, a few of us ventured out into the cold again for a football match between FC Red Bull Salzburg and FK Austria Wien, which is the Vienna-based team that is Salzburg's traditional rival. One of the teaching assistant's boyfriend is Austrian, and he got us terrific tickets second row from the field. It was ever so slightly snowing, but we braved the weather and had a lot of fun. The two teams were vying for first and second places in their league, but to the dismay of most of the fans, no one scored during the game. I'm not a huge sports buff, so when I do find myself at a sporting event, I get sidetracked very easily. I think I found watching the fan sections just as invigorating as the game itself. The last time I was at a soccer game was on a high school trip senior year to Buenos Aires - giant banners, confetti, drums and brass instruments, fireworks, and so many fans jumping in unison that the stadium shook - one of the most exciting events of my life. Austrian fans are a lot tamer, but still so much fun to observe. Only in Salzburg would they have a chant following the melody of Mozart's Symphony No. 40! It was great fun, and I'm so happy I made it to a game, as I hadn't the last time I was here. I'm hoping to catch another game in the spring, once the weather's warmed.
This was an easy week in the classroom - only a few introductions, and my Friday classes were cancelled so that I may attend a board of education-sponsored seminar for all teaching assistants within the province. I laughed at one of the related emails we received, asking us to bring our most successful lesson to share with the group. I imagine the other assistants have at least a dozen different, exciting lessons from which to choose. I have...hmm, let me count...one. Oh right, I've only done my introductory lesson! I will have to explain to the moderators tomorrow because I feel that they'd think I am awfully narcissistic if I present a lesson about myself as my favorite lesson without qualification!
Today is the Feast of Saint Nicholas, the religious forerunner to our beloved Santa Claus, whose name is derived from the Dutch spelling of St. Nick, Sinterklaas. Here, Santa Claus isn't entirely the jolly, fat man most of us imagine, but rather takes an episcopal approach, dressing in the alb, cope, and miter of a bishop, with crozier in hand. And here's where a cultural difference comes into play. What do naughty children get back home for Christmas instead of presents? Coal, right? Okay, that's all good and well. Now, what do Austrian children get when they've been naughty? Coal? No. They get a troop of demonic creatures that come down from the mountain with St. Nicholas and throw bad children in their basket and take them up to the mountains from where they're never heard of again. One look at these things, called Krampusse (sing: Krampus), and you wonder how Austrian children are not he most well behaved Kinder in the world. Terrifying doesn't begin to explain how scary these monsters are. In many Alpine towns, there is a tradition event called a Krampuslauf (Krampus run) the day before the Feast, in which Krampusse parade through the center of town with their giant cow bells, scaring all who watch. Also by tradition, Krampusse carry bundles of branches or small whips, with which they hit the legs of girls, particularly blondes (why this is, I have no clue). I've heard about the Krampus for years, and it absolutely made my day to actually witness a Krampuslauf. A bunch of us gathered in the Aldstadt, and I think we were all a bit jittery, not sure what quite to expect. A few screams, and some running children, then we heard the bells...the Krampuslauf had begun. These monsters paraded down a small pedestrian street, hitting nearly all the girls in sight. The girls were screaming, and one of the Krampusse even tried to drag one of the girls with him - I was doubled over, laughing so hard that my cheeks hurt so much by night's end! After they had passed, a few of us went down an alley and cut across a few squares to get ahead of them, to try and get a few more pictures. Bad idea. Once they got to the final square, the "lauf" was over, and they were set free on the city. All Hell broke loose. During their parade, they were meandering down the street. Now, they were running on a wild rampage, hitting everyone in sight. People were running and screaming, and I got hit myself - jeez, those branches sting! The look on unassuming tourists' faces was priceless. Little did they know that visiting a beautiful Christmas market also meant getting beaten by the devil incarnate. One of the teaching assistants has a friend from the States visiting Europe for the first time, and the Krampuslauf was one of her first experiences here - welcome to Austria! After running and hiding to save our skins, we realized we had been separated from the rest of the group - they followed the Krampusse, and the girl who had nearly been dragged into the street was actually thrown over the shoulder of the very same Krampus who had attacked her earlier and carried down the street. Horrific. The Krampusse are now monitored by police, so they're fairly regulated and safe, but their whipping still hurts! 2 of my teachers were explaining how they were in a small tavern about 5 years ago on the night of the Krampuslauf - they were enjoying dinner when all of a sudden people started screaming and jumped on tables as about a dozen Krampusse stormed the restaurant and started beating people. It became so violent that 20 police officer were called in to stop the carnage - my teacher was hospitalized. Yesterday, another teacher showed me the bruises on the back of her legs - her students disguised as Krampusse had attacked her the day before. After the nightmare on Earth, which seemed more like a scene out of some medieval Italian painting about the last judgement than a "fun mountain tradition," as it had been described to me, we went to a beer hall above the town. Mid-meal, a man who had just left the room to use the facilities ran back in and said to his wife "they're coming." Cow bells. The Krampusse paraded around the tables, ruffling the feathers of the girls. On the outside, I was laughing and smiling, but on the inside, I very nearly wet myself. THIS is cultural immersion.
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| "Go ahead, make my day." |
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Two Can Play This Game
It is 6:54am as I start to write this. Why so early?, you ask. Well, I was sleeping just fine, having nice dreams of sitting on a beach on some faraway island when I was suddenly awoken by that which haunts me day and night. What terror is this? It has no earthly name, having been forged by the Devil himself in the depths of Hell. Some of you may remember mentioning my Colombian guitarist flatmate who's preparing for a recital - remember that piece he was working on a month ago? Yeah, he still can't play it, and today he's decided to let me wake to the wonders of a new day with his serenade. I've yet to hear him play the first 10 seconds of the piece without making a mistake, which means, on average, he plays that part about 20 times before moving on to the next section. I still don't know how the piece ends, because I don't think he's ever reached that part. Granted, the poor guy was paralyzed for a few days and had to relearn how to play his instrument, but still, you think he'd have it down pat by now. 6.54am. The day I met him, I was trying to be as cordial and friendly as possible, and in the spirit of accommodation, I allowed him to practice in the room instead of banishing him to the basement rehearsal rooms. I had visions of Pepe Romero gracefully playing Rodrigo and flamenco classics. But no, I have found the only guitarist in the world who knows only a single song. Worst of all, it's a catchy song, so I find myself whistling it whilst walking down the street, or humming it in the shower. 6.54am. Tomorrow's his sleep-in day, but I'm always up early for Mass on Sundays. Tomorrow, I think my speakers are going to be in the mood for Wagner's Götterdammerung, at 6:54am, of course.
In other news, the Strudel place was yesterday was one of the best finds here in Salzburg. After walking around a busy courtyard, we found the entrance tucked away in a corner. We descended a few steps and walked into a quaint café that seemed it was right out of 1950's Americana. Soft green painted woodwork, vaulted ceilings, a chrome plated bar, sundae-looking glasses sitting on mirror-backed shelves behind the counter, stools and small tables, old fashioned coffee makers, and a bright display of the Strudels of the day: apple, apple and plum, blueberry and cream cheese, poppy and hazelnut, and 1 or 2 more that I can't remember. There were 6 of us at the table, and I think we each ordered something different. I opted for the apple and plum Strudel with vanilla sauce, which is like a custard, and a mint hot chocolate. My Strudel was served in a bowl, nearly covered in the sauce, and topped with powdered sugar, the hot chocolate with a dollop of fresh whipped cream. Exquisite. Hands down, the best Strudel I've had. It was the perfect combination of tart and sweet, the vanilla sauce was creamy, the pastry crisp, and the hot chocolate was beyond words. Being a little out of the way, I felt this place was not on the usual tourist's list of places to visit, so it had a bit more of an authentic, local feel. I will certainly be returning as often as I can to try all of their Strudels, which change daily. What a great, little café!
This afternoon, after some morning paperwork and writing a few postcards, a few of us will be attending a choral concert in the Benedictine Nonnberg Abbey, which many will know as "Maria's" abbey from The Sound of Music (yup, it actually exists!), before heading to a small Christmas market as all the Church bells in the city sound for the start of Advent. The Chapel interior isn't the same used in the film, unfortunately, but the outside is right out of the film. I was thinking about that movie yesterday, and how Austrians have little or no interest in watching it, believing it is wholly the fabrication of American kitschy values thrown onto Dirndl-wearing children who simply run around their city singing all day. While there's probably some truth to that, I actually think The Sound of Music does a pretty bang up job of illustrating some of the highest points of Austrian culture and being. Looking at some of the major themes of the film, one can find a lot of messages that are very important to Austrians, even today. Austria existing as an independent, individual nation and not in the shadow of "big brother" Germany, a deep respect and love for the wilderness and the spirit of adventure, an integral relationship with music, an unwavering sense of tradition, a nostalgic grasp of the past, and an emphasis on the family. These are not stereotypes, and they are not kitschy. These are the values that Austrians, at least those living in Salzburg, hold. While children aren't climbing trees in old curtains-turned Lederhosen, the fiber of their character, the spirit in which they are portrayed, I think, is quite apt, and a testament to some of what's great about Austria.
A lot of my students ask why I, of all places, selected to come to Salzburg. My first response is, "What do you think of your city," to which they usually respond simply with "It's okay. It's home, so I'm used to it." Used to it. They laugh at all the tourists on the Sound of Music tour (in their defense, hearing a busload of Japanese tourists try and sing "Edelweiss" in broken English is hysterical), and while tourism can at times be a bit oppressive here, I think the reason people do visit is to experience those Austrian values from the film, mainly because when you come here, you feel those values. They are not dead, not only featured in the film. Yes, you can visit the filming locations, which is great fun, but you can also see Dirndl and Lederhosen on a daily basis, and it's not a costume, it's what people wear. You can hear Austrians getting angry when you mistake them for Germans. There is always music being performed in each corner of the city. The neighboring Alps are dotted with hikers, young and old, just going for their daily walk amongst nature. More and more, you can hear people talking about the "golden years" of Austria under the crown, and families do everything together here, from a trip to Spain to a trip to McDonald's. We might not have Captain and Maria von Trapp, but when you come here, it's like walking back in time, like walking into the film. In that respect, it's unlike any other city I've visited, and I think that's why its allure has captured so many. Each day, whether its when I look up at the fortress and the surrounding mountains, as I watch the rush of the river, as I walk the cobblestone Altstadt amidst 1000 year old buildings, as I hear the bells of an ancient Church, as I'm sharing a beer with friends in a crowded hall, my breath is taken away for a moment as I realize, "wow, I live in this fairy tale place." Used to it. I hope I don't stay here long enough to ever say that. What a truly wonderful place to call home.
In other news, the Strudel place was yesterday was one of the best finds here in Salzburg. After walking around a busy courtyard, we found the entrance tucked away in a corner. We descended a few steps and walked into a quaint café that seemed it was right out of 1950's Americana. Soft green painted woodwork, vaulted ceilings, a chrome plated bar, sundae-looking glasses sitting on mirror-backed shelves behind the counter, stools and small tables, old fashioned coffee makers, and a bright display of the Strudels of the day: apple, apple and plum, blueberry and cream cheese, poppy and hazelnut, and 1 or 2 more that I can't remember. There were 6 of us at the table, and I think we each ordered something different. I opted for the apple and plum Strudel with vanilla sauce, which is like a custard, and a mint hot chocolate. My Strudel was served in a bowl, nearly covered in the sauce, and topped with powdered sugar, the hot chocolate with a dollop of fresh whipped cream. Exquisite. Hands down, the best Strudel I've had. It was the perfect combination of tart and sweet, the vanilla sauce was creamy, the pastry crisp, and the hot chocolate was beyond words. Being a little out of the way, I felt this place was not on the usual tourist's list of places to visit, so it had a bit more of an authentic, local feel. I will certainly be returning as often as I can to try all of their Strudels, which change daily. What a great, little café!
This afternoon, after some morning paperwork and writing a few postcards, a few of us will be attending a choral concert in the Benedictine Nonnberg Abbey, which many will know as "Maria's" abbey from The Sound of Music (yup, it actually exists!), before heading to a small Christmas market as all the Church bells in the city sound for the start of Advent. The Chapel interior isn't the same used in the film, unfortunately, but the outside is right out of the film. I was thinking about that movie yesterday, and how Austrians have little or no interest in watching it, believing it is wholly the fabrication of American kitschy values thrown onto Dirndl-wearing children who simply run around their city singing all day. While there's probably some truth to that, I actually think The Sound of Music does a pretty bang up job of illustrating some of the highest points of Austrian culture and being. Looking at some of the major themes of the film, one can find a lot of messages that are very important to Austrians, even today. Austria existing as an independent, individual nation and not in the shadow of "big brother" Germany, a deep respect and love for the wilderness and the spirit of adventure, an integral relationship with music, an unwavering sense of tradition, a nostalgic grasp of the past, and an emphasis on the family. These are not stereotypes, and they are not kitschy. These are the values that Austrians, at least those living in Salzburg, hold. While children aren't climbing trees in old curtains-turned Lederhosen, the fiber of their character, the spirit in which they are portrayed, I think, is quite apt, and a testament to some of what's great about Austria.
.JPG) |
| "We've come to see Maria, Sister Marghereta." |
A lot of my students ask why I, of all places, selected to come to Salzburg. My first response is, "What do you think of your city," to which they usually respond simply with "It's okay. It's home, so I'm used to it." Used to it. They laugh at all the tourists on the Sound of Music tour (in their defense, hearing a busload of Japanese tourists try and sing "Edelweiss" in broken English is hysterical), and while tourism can at times be a bit oppressive here, I think the reason people do visit is to experience those Austrian values from the film, mainly because when you come here, you feel those values. They are not dead, not only featured in the film. Yes, you can visit the filming locations, which is great fun, but you can also see Dirndl and Lederhosen on a daily basis, and it's not a costume, it's what people wear. You can hear Austrians getting angry when you mistake them for Germans. There is always music being performed in each corner of the city. The neighboring Alps are dotted with hikers, young and old, just going for their daily walk amongst nature. More and more, you can hear people talking about the "golden years" of Austria under the crown, and families do everything together here, from a trip to Spain to a trip to McDonald's. We might not have Captain and Maria von Trapp, but when you come here, it's like walking back in time, like walking into the film. In that respect, it's unlike any other city I've visited, and I think that's why its allure has captured so many. Each day, whether its when I look up at the fortress and the surrounding mountains, as I watch the rush of the river, as I walk the cobblestone Altstadt amidst 1000 year old buildings, as I hear the bells of an ancient Church, as I'm sharing a beer with friends in a crowded hall, my breath is taken away for a moment as I realize, "wow, I live in this fairy tale place." Used to it. I hope I don't stay here long enough to ever say that. What a truly wonderful place to call home.
.JPG) |
| View into Bavaria from the front gate of Stift Nonnberg. |
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