The Adventure Continues

Snow, sub-freezing temperatures, seemingly perpetually grey skies, clouds, an endless haze that obscures the mountains across the flat lands bordering the city, Salzburg suffers unconscionably long and severe winters.  I remember the last time I was here, I had arrived at the beginning of February, and that one particular month stands out as the most miserable month of my life.  So bitingly cold that after walking for a minute or so, one's extremities go numb and it is sometimes necessary to pop inside for a moment's respite from the frigidness of February. It has been so cold that the motivation to explore and keep active long faded away, and this place's redeeming qualities fall into obscurity.  It's almost over, though, and the forecast for March's first week promises temperatures a full ten degrees higher, a hopeful sign that Spring will be here before we know it - and I think we are all really, really anxious for it!  Yesterday, for example, I was caught off guard in an Alpine valley by a terribly bright glare from above.  "What is happening?" I wondered.  "What is this magnificent, warmth emitting orb of light and goodness above me?"  It's no exaggeration when I say that I haven't seen the sun in weeks, and boy, was it glorious.  Hat, gloves, and coat off, continuing my way in the short-lived, and sorely missed sunlight.  

Last Saturday I decided to make the most of these dreary days and joined a few of the girls from some downhill skiing, my first time.  We traveled about an hour south to a popular local resort, where I hired a private instructor to teach me the ropes for a few hours.  Lessons in intimidation and humiliation were in order.  Small kids who couldn't have been taller than my hip were whizzing down the slopes, and getting the hang of the sport quicker and with more precision than I could have performed after a morning-long course.  I stuck with it, though, and after a few falls and bruises, I learned an awful lot.  It looks so, so much easier than it really is, and I'm looking forward to the next time I could take a lesson to be better able to ski on my own some day.  Absolutely exhilarating.  

Sunday afternoon, a German friend from CUA decided to visit for a couple of days.  We went inside a few Churches the first day, attended sung Vespers in the oldest monastic institution north of the Alps, and had some good meals.  The second day started off with a tour of Maria Plain, a basilica on the pilgrim trail, El Camino de Santiago de Compostela, laying just north of Salzburg.  Then we rode through the nearby Alps to one of my favorite places on the planet, Berchtesgaden at the base of the Obersalzberg, the heaven-like former Nazi resort high above on the mountainsides.  We parked at the deserted museum, and I led the way through the woods to an unmarked spot, where you can see the foundation and remains of Hitler's retreat home, the Berghof.  It's really cool to see something like that, to stand where it once stood, covered in moss and trees, under the noses of many oblivious tourists who have no idea it's still there.  We then continued through the woods and I showed my friend the former S.S. headquarters, which is now a private home, in original condition.  When we walked closer, we spotted something that I hadn't noticed before - the S.S.'s own entrance to the Führerbunker located deep under the mountain that connected nearly all of the Nazi elites' homes to a giant network of underground hideaways.  Will have to explore that more once the ground thaws, but still very, very incredible for a history buff like myself!  We then went to a sleepy town a good ways north of Salzburg called Oberndorf, where the chapel in which "Silent Night" was composed.  Afterwards, we were on the road home, or so I thought, when we came to a village called Braunau am Inn.  I guess in keeping with the morning's theme, my friend thought it would be neat to visit this place, which is noted for being the birthplace and ancestral home of Hitler. 

Unadorned and often unnoticed, it is the home of one of the modern era's most brutal men, Adolf Hitler.

A decrepit building in the city center, empty and dark, filled with cobwebs and furniture covered in years of dust and debris, the house was all locked up and we could only peek through the windows.  Nothings marks the house, no signs, no lights or maps, no people, no life, only a rock near the street taken from nearby Mauthausen, the concentration camp quarry, on which was written a few phrases condemning fascism.  It was so plain, that we actually walked right past it the first time around.  It was eerie, spooky in fact.  It really makes you wonder, what makes people tick - what transforms a person into doing something extreme?  Where does it comes from, and what happens once they've left their mark once they've gone - 70 years later, and we're still unsure.  

"For Peace, Freedom, and Democacy / Never Again Fascism / Millions of Dead Remind"

On a lighter note, I once again headed to the mountains, and tried cross country skiing yesterday.  I liked it a lot more than my first foray into skiing, mainly because I felt as if I commanded more control over speed, balance, and direction, and ultimately felt a lot safer.  My skiing partner for the day told me that it's one of the best workouts someone can do, and now, feeling the burn of muscles I didn't even know I had, I fully believe that!  Was a lot of fun, and the sun did come out, which was terrific.  Just one day of teaching this week, and then I'm off to Luxembourg and Belgium through Sunday, both new countries and cultures for me, and I can't wait!

The Gift of Friendship

The past seven days have been a roller coaster of emotions, from bliss to sadness.  My closest friends here in Salzburg left Saturday.  Unlike the Americans, who are here for the academic year, many of the English girls stayed only for a semester.  A few of them study multiple languages, so now they're on to their next assignment abroad before they return to their university in autumn to finish their degrees.  

On Wednesday, I met up with one of my friends, Alice, and we went to a quaint café hidden in one of the narrow alleys in the Altstadt.  It had been two years since I'd visited, first having gone for a "pastry testing" seminar back in 2011.  It's several hundred years old, and has maybe 8 tables inside, surrounding the counter stocked with delectable homemade cakes, pastries, cookies, and chocolate.  We shared a table in the corner for over an hour, just chatting away.  The gang had plans to meet up for drinks later that night, so instead of parting ways for a bit,  I invited her over to my shoe box of a room for dinner.  After making the last batch of Antonio's pasta from his shop around the corner together, we headed over to Steinterrasse, a rooftop bar on the river that offers spectacular views of the city across the way.  This was one of the first places in Salzburg we went to back in October, so it sort of seemed like coming full circle near the end.

Thursday was a busy day of shopping and prepping for the big "Abschiedsessen" (farewell dinner) we were throwing for our departing friends.  I sort of took the reins in planning the party, so I suggested a menu of what I know how to cook - Italian - and the proposal was decided upon as soon as I mentioned it!  For antipasti we had roasted red peppers, marinated green olives with orange zest, fennel, and parsley, crostini with bruschetta, a plate of ham and salami, fresh mozzarella with fresh basil and a balsamic reduction, and my grandmother's recipe for bambini, which are a little pastry stuffed with ricotta, mozzarella, pecorino romano, and a slice of pepperoni, all of which was homemade!  The sauce cooked for about 5 hours, and we had pasta a few hours into the party.  The girls made all sorts of cakes and cookies for dessert, too.  We cooked for 14 people, and it was my first time making a big meal like that, so I'm so happy it went over well, but now I can totally appreciate why my mom is so tired after making the holiday meal!  We spent the night talking and playing games, and it was a lot of fun.

Friday was the last night we'd have together, and we did it the only way one can do it in Salzburg - with some of us dressed in Tracht, we hit perhaps our favorite place in town, Augustinerbräu.  We claimed a big table in one of the airy halls, and we all brought our dinner a la picnic (which you can do), and had a wonderful time together over good beer, with lots of fun card games, and it was just great to be all together one last time.  Most of the gang left once Augustiner closed at 11, but of few of us weren't ready to call it a night, so we walked across the river to a little place for a few drinks.  We left around 2:30am, and then it started to get hard, saying bye to each of them in turn.  Alice was had to walk the other way, so we said our farewell first, and then within five minutes, the other Alice, Rachel, and lastly Cecilia.  

I guess that I was so tired that night that I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, but when I woke up in the morning, I felt it.  Something like an emptiness.  "Now what do I do?," I thought to myself.  I won't lie, I had a few tears race down my cheek throughout the day, and I know I'll have to strengthen the friendships I have here to get to that level of comfort I enjoyed with my friends who've just left, but, as Antoine de Saint-Exupéry once penned, "The tender friendships that one gives up, on parting, leave their bite on the heart, but also a curious feeling of a treasure somewhere buried," and in that, I find great comfort.  I had the time of my life with these special people, three of them in particular, and I will carry the memories we share forever, and I know that our friendship will live beyond our time together here in Austria.  I miss them terribly, and I'll wish they could see this place in spring in all its grandeur, but on the bright side, I now have friends in some really cool places around Europe that I could visit!  In this neck of the woods, people don't say "goodbye," but rather, "auf Wiederschauen," which means, "until we see each other again."  I like saying that a lot more than "goodbye," especially in this case.

I've thought a lot about life's experiences since they've gone, and I've come to the same conclusion over and over again - without the people to make life beautiful, being here in this city, as magnificent as it is, wouldn't be nearly enjoyable.  It's the people that touch you, who add special meaning to adventures, and to whom you look back when remembering the past.  It's the people that forever change you, and leave their indelible mark on your soul.  How wonderful a gift, to have been blessed with the friendship of amazing individuals.  Even if I leave this experience with nothing else, I will walk away having forged three friendships, and you know what, I can hardly contain how great a feeling that is.

Alice, Alice, myself, Cecilia, and Rachel - Augustinerbräu.

A Needed Respite

The week is entirely free.  The university is closed for the month of February, and the high school in which I teach is closed for the week, as its their semester break.  Even after only a weekend, I can feel some of the stress leaving my body, as I don't have to worry about classes, catching the bus, writing papers, or setting my alarm clock.  It's a welcome change.

On Saturday, a few of us ventured out near the airport to the chic Hangar 7, home to a fine collection of aircraft, automobiles, and other high-speed vehicles, which were purchased and restored by Red Bull owner and Salzburg local, Dietrich Mateschitz, who's opened his playground to the public, free of charge.  Among the displays were an original Checker cab from NYC, a Navy F4-U from World War II, a USMC Cobra, and the last produced DC-6, which was previously owned by Tito, the late Yugoslavian dictator.  It was a pretty cool way to kill an hour, and after seeing the place, we're going to try and head back for dinner one night at the restaurant within, which is home to a Michelin-starred chef de cuisine.  Granted, we'll have to save a bit before we can tackle that one!  

Seeing things like this will never get old!

On Sunday morning I braved the cold to attend the first event I attended upon arrival in Salzburg during my semester abroad in 2011 - the Metzgersprung.  This centuries old tradition always occurs on the Sunday before Lent, and has its Catholic ties, as well.  After a special Mass, members of the butcher's guild parade around the Altstadt in traditional costumes, lead by a Trachten marching band, to the square inside the Archabbey of St. Peter, which was the first monastic institution north of the Alps.  There, surrounded by hundreds of locals, young apprentices studying for the butcher trade are initiated.  First, these young men must jump into a giant barrel of water, symbolically cleansing them for their profession and for Lent.  Then, they must climb to the third story balcony where they must spin the massive banner of the guild suspended from a 15 foot pole around, 6 times clockwise and 6 times counterclockwise, to symbolize both strength and commitment to the guild.  Two of my students were among the 10 or so boys being initiated.  One of them was first to spin this banner, which, by the way, has been the same banner and pole used for this ceremony since 1849.  After 2 spins, the pole snapped and tore the banner.  Some gasped, and some laughed, but the officials were stunned and shocked - they did not know what to do, and so cancelled the remainder of the ceremony.  I've never seen someone turn such a deep shade of red before, the poor guy!  It was fun to take part in that tradition again, though.

Destroying the remnant of a 160 year old tradition: Priceless.

I don't have plans for the week, really.  A good friend of mine is hoping to visit later in the week, but other than that, I think I'll just plan each day by ear, hoping to take advantage of some of the sun that we're supposed to get.  I'll also be going skiing on Saturday with a few friends, which'll be my first time.  I'm not expecting a wild success, more like lots of bruises, but I'm really, really looking forward to it, and I'm sure it'll be a lot of fun.  In other news, the Pope's retiring.  Hasn't happened in nearly 600 years, so that's the big buzz here today.  

Wein, Weib und Gesang

An endless staircase draped in red cloth welcomed revelers past the watchful eyes of a long-lost emperor, people ascended ever upwards through rooms built from immense wealth and sweat, through showcases of rebellious America, sensuous South America, old world Bavaria, leading all to the grand elegance of the Austrian capital.  Men and women looking regal in their flowing evening gowns and evening dress mingle cheerfully amongst the crowd of students, professors, politicians, and party-goers.  "Opulence" is but the shadow of the magnificence of Friday evening's venue, the famed Hofburg, the imperial palace of the Austrian-Hungarian Empire, and one of the world's most renowned estates.  To think that one of the most powerful families in the world, the Habsburgs, used to live in this building is mind-staggering.  It was a surreal experience, casually walking up to the monumental edifice at nightfall with ticket in hand, and then entering a bustling foyer filled with handsome looking people - as Humphrey Bogart once said, it's "that stuff dreams are made of."  The rooms seemed to multiply as we passed through room after room, leaving always one beyond unexplored.  Gold leaf adorned the ceilings and door frames, masterworks hung on the wall, a dynasty's treasures were spread out before us.  For once in my life, I felt under-dressed in black tie.  The researchers here in Austria were invited to attend the Technical University's annual ball, a tradition dating 1815, making it one of the oldest balls in the world.  We gathered in the main ball room for the opening ceremony, in which the honored guests (rectors, deans, professors, trustees, and politicians) paraded in with their spouses to fanfares and marches. The orchestra played the Austrian national anthem, and to my surprise, the European anthem, which is a variation of the 4th movement of Beethoven's 9th Symphony, the famous "Ode to Joy."  Then, about 100 students who had trained for several weeks performed the choreographed opening dances.  The very thought of American college students willingly dressing formally and waltzing for a school event makes me laugh - only in Austria, and boy, do they know what they're doing!  At the conclusion of their performance, with the Prussian-like command, "Waltz!," the dance floor opened to everyone for the night.  Walking through some of the many rooms with some friends, we were taken to 1960s American with a rock-n-roll band in one hall, the sexy nightclubs of Buenos Aires with tangos and such in another hall, and the mountains of Bavaria with a folk music group performing in yet another hall, with spectacular views of an ancient gateway and courtyard below the window.  Throughout the night in the grand hall, the musicians played the luxurious melodies of the Waltz King, Johann Strauss II, such as his most famous composition, "An der schönen blauen Donau," (On the beautiful, blue Danube).  Waltzes, polkas, marches, quadrilles, and fox-trots sounded throughout the night.  Though we tried to dance several times, however, there were just so many people present that it was nearly impossible to move, so much of the night was spent simply watching and walking around the palace in pure adoration at its exquisiteness.  In terms of fun, it pales in comparison to last week's Edelweißball in Salzburg, but simply for the experience of attending an authentic Viennese ball in the most impressive of locales, it was way, way worth it!  

One word: surreal.

When we awoke Friday morning in Vienna, the weather was quite literally a breath of fresh air.  Near 50°, blue skies, and not a cloud in sight.  What a relief!  It was back to Salzburg, however, and that evening a small group of us gathered at Augustinerbräu to celebrate a friend's birthday.  On Saturday, a good group of us traveled across the border to the 500-year old salt mine buried far under Hitler's Eagle's Nest in beautiful Berchtesgaden, Germany.  I had been there once before in 2011, but this time was equally as delightful.  Fitted as true miners in blue coveralls with reflective stripes, we descended into the mine on a miniature train.  After a short introduction, we had to descend to the next level by a giant wooden slide.  There are two of these slides within in the mine, and they're a real thrill ride!  It's incredible to walk up to a wall, touch your finger to one of the reddish spots, and then taste the salt on your finger tip.  Two of my friends just went for any spot on the wall the first time, and, well, now they know what stone tastes like!  My favorite part of the tour is when the guide leads us to what looks like a vast cavern.  In reality, it's a subterranean lake that is so still that the cave ceiling is perfectly mirrored on its surface, creating the illusion of a jagged floor.  After crossing this lake on a wooden barge, we were invited to sample the water.  It has a salt content of 27%, which is partly why the water is placid, and tastes positively horrendous!  After we finished the tour, received our commemorative salt shaker (where's the pepper?), and gathered our things, we realized we had only two minutes to run up to the road to catch the bus, lest we wait around two and a half hours for the next.  Tired and hungry, we were trying to think of a place to eat back in Salzburg, when one of my friends had the brilliant suggestion of going to the lone Mexican restaurant (read: lone restaurant that uses spice) in town, and what a meal!  I could have rolled out of there, I was so full.  

Today was a hectic day at the school.  They were officially dedicating a new wing of the already massive building, and Austria's minister of education was doing the honor herself, along with more politicians than should be in any one place at any one time.  The students were balancing on a tightrope of discipline today, and the bustle of security personnel and a lot of people thinking they were more important than they were seemed to have gotten on a lot of teachers' minds, but it was exciting.  Only three days of teaching this week, Monday-Wednesday, and then so begins a 2 week vacation from work, to which I'm really, really looking forward.  No definite or big plans made, but maybe a few day trips to better know Austria and the surrounding regions, and I'm even thinking about an overnight trip to the far west of the country, to where Austria, Germany, Liechtenstein, and Switzerland meet, to do some sight-seeing.  We'll see what comes, but as for the rest of the week, it looks like drinks with the gang on a rooftop bar, coffee and cake at a café with a friend, and a party with everyone on Thursday.  Halfway through, and still finding something daily that amazes me about this experience.

God Bless Italians

Warmth and sun were today's themes, finally!  The overnight rain washed away the snow, and the sun shone brightly over the fresh landscape.  A bird who hadn't yet flown south perched outside my office window this morning, mimicking the joyful song I was singing inside.  It's incredible how something as simple as a few degrees can make such a difference in the world.  After nearly a month of rain, snow, and gloom, I felt alive again today, soaking up what is sure to be only a passing glimmer of the hope of an early spring.

Due to a fire drill, I only had two classes this morning, down from 3, so the day began on the right foot.  I had coffee with a young teacher in the teachers' lunch room, which I hadn't yet visited.  Her English is flawless, and much to my surprise, she had never been to an English-speaking country, nor had practiced with a native-speaker before.  It made me cringe to think back on my experience, after having studied in a German-speaking country 3 times before, and having always studied under a native speaker, that my language skills are so poor comparatively.

Undoubtedly the highlight of my day, I enjoyed the short walk to the little Italian shop around the corner to fetch some more of my coveted Pecorino Romano cheese.  I walk into an empty shop, and as soon as the door closes, with the energy of Roberto Benigi's performance in La vita è bella, out pops the friendly proprietor, Antonio from Apulia on the Adriatic, bursting with song.  He hurries me to a small table along the window, and immediately pours me a glass of Chianti.  Still singing, he asks me what I'd like.  "Pronto!," he replies, and off like a bat he races to the back of the counter to get my cheese.  I add a few bags of pasta and some sauce to my order, and he comes back with a small plate of new cheeses, cured meats, olives, peppers, and some fresh crusty bread to soak up the olive oil.  Antonio isn't very good at German, and I'm no good with Italian, but we made conversation.  His eyes lit up when I said I was American, but that part of my family is from Sicily.  "Ah, it's-a beautiful day-a!"  More wine, more food (all on the house, by the way), and then, after running to the back of the store, he comes back with a pastry filled with marscapone, ricotta, and lemon zest - to die for!  As I'm about to leave, he stops me in my place, putting his hand up like a traffic officer.  He comes back with a giant loaf of fresh bread - "ein Geschenk von mir," he says, "a gift from me."  It's on days like today when it hits you in the face, and there's nothing you could do to avoid it - despite all the terrible things that happen in the world, it will always be filled with wonderful people.