*Nick in Vienna
I thought I might write a bit about the church community I've found here in Vienna because some of you might be interested. I've been attending the Vienna Community Church, and English speaking church that is open to all denominations. It meets downtown in a Lutheran church at noon and has been around for a little over 50 years. The services themselves are a mix of various traditions, but probably most closely resembles Lutheran services because the current pastor is Lutheran. The music is quite good - hymns with a nice organ, but overall the service is more relaxed than ordinary liturgical services in the states.
The best thing about the church is the diversity. As many of you sadly know, American churches tend to be very segregated. That is certainly not the case here, mainly just because there aren't a lot of English options here (there are some English Catholic masses and I think a Methodist church in English here as well). Today alone I talked to at least one person from America, England, China, Korea, Nigeria, Egypt, Honduras, Japan, Germany, Austria, Scotland, Hungary, and some others I can't remember. For a lot of people at the church English is their second language, but they know it better than German. We did Communion today and it is really quite a wonderful and beautiful thing to celebrate our faith with people from all over the world.
There is also a young adult group where I have met pretty much all of my friends here. We meet every two weeks for dinner and I've gotten to know some of them quite well and have done quite a bit of stuff outside of the church. It's not quite the cohort in Columbus, but it has proven to be quite the blessing.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Two nights. Two operas.
*Nick in Vienna
This past weekend I went to an opera on both Saturday and Sunday night. Saturday was Montiverdi's L'incoronazione di Poppea at the Theater an der Wien and Sunday was standing room for Mozart's Don Giovanni. They were both fantastic and I thought I would write just a bit about it.
For Saturday I had an actual seat, the cheapest in the house, but still, an actual seat. It was in a side box on the lowest level in the third row back. I could see decent enough and see the words in German. Poppea is one of the oldest operas (1642-43). The theater itself was very nice. It is amazing that Vienna can support four full-running opera houses. That is ridiculous. Columbus has a handful of operas a year. Vienna, which actually isn't a ton bigger (1 million vs. 2 million) has on most nights 4 operas or ballets in town, as well as multiple orchestra and chamber music concerts. Every performance I've been to so far has been packed, so I don't think they are hurting. The Theater an der Wien concentrates on Baroque operas and premiers from the 21st century.
Sunday night I did standing room for Don Giovanni at the Staatsoper (the big one that I have been to multiple times). It was also fantastic. The conductor, who I could see from my spot in the balcony, did not even open his score. He conducted the whole 3 1/2 hour opera from memory, which is pretty amazing.
Anyway, I hate to keep rambling about these, but it is fast becoming a pretty important part of my life. I am pretty sure I can say that my two favorite forms of entertainment are baseball games and operas, which might be an odd combination and would be sweet if they could be combined. I'm pretty sure that means that we will end up in Nebraska or something, where I can't get either one. But seriously, after I had some sort of weird personal crisis in Paris when we went to see Platee I just can't get enough. So, am I a loser now, or just super pretentious?
Well, enough rambling. Tomorrow I'm actually going to the ballet with Kendra (Jane's cousin) and I'm pretty excited.
This past weekend I went to an opera on both Saturday and Sunday night. Saturday was Montiverdi's L'incoronazione di Poppea at the Theater an der Wien and Sunday was standing room for Mozart's Don Giovanni. They were both fantastic and I thought I would write just a bit about it.
For Saturday I had an actual seat, the cheapest in the house, but still, an actual seat. It was in a side box on the lowest level in the third row back. I could see decent enough and see the words in German. Poppea is one of the oldest operas (1642-43). The theater itself was very nice. It is amazing that Vienna can support four full-running opera houses. That is ridiculous. Columbus has a handful of operas a year. Vienna, which actually isn't a ton bigger (1 million vs. 2 million) has on most nights 4 operas or ballets in town, as well as multiple orchestra and chamber music concerts. Every performance I've been to so far has been packed, so I don't think they are hurting. The Theater an der Wien concentrates on Baroque operas and premiers from the 21st century.
Sunday night I did standing room for Don Giovanni at the Staatsoper (the big one that I have been to multiple times). It was also fantastic. The conductor, who I could see from my spot in the balcony, did not even open his score. He conducted the whole 3 1/2 hour opera from memory, which is pretty amazing.
Anyway, I hate to keep rambling about these, but it is fast becoming a pretty important part of my life. I am pretty sure I can say that my two favorite forms of entertainment are baseball games and operas, which might be an odd combination and would be sweet if they could be combined. I'm pretty sure that means that we will end up in Nebraska or something, where I can't get either one. But seriously, after I had some sort of weird personal crisis in Paris when we went to see Platee I just can't get enough. So, am I a loser now, or just super pretentious?
Well, enough rambling. Tomorrow I'm actually going to the ballet with Kendra (Jane's cousin) and I'm pretty excited.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
And then we were at a hootenanny...
*Jane in Paris*
Last night I met my friend Christine, who is on a Fulbright as a UNESCO intern in Paris, for a drink. We met at the Republique metro stop and then headed down Avenue de la Republique, to an area favored by young Parisians (I don't think it has a name, really). We stopped at the first place we saw that seemed enticing and calm enough that we could carry on a conversation, an unassuming place on a corner named Downtown Cafe. We sat on a couch and drank Belgian beers, catching up on Christmas and life in Paris. Meanwhile, a charismatic woman kept coming over to us and asking if we were doing alright, and then she told us to go downstairs because there would be something "very nice to listen to." We didn't obey, and she returned 20 minutes later, took our hands, and lead us down a spiral staircase to the basement. Immediately we heard music, but it was strange because there seemed to be several voices singing together. The lights were dim, the ceiling was low and arched, and benches lined the wall of a small room. There was a woman performing, playing the cello and singing, looping cello parts on top of each other. Her performance in itself wasn't strange, because from what I can tell looping and the use of unconventional instruments is in right now among Parisian musicians. What was strange was that other people were singing with her. Eventually another mike appeared, and a woman improvised a countermelody to the cellist's chorus, and then more mikes appeared and a circle formed and all of these guys started rapping. And this wasn't trivial corporate rap a la Jay-Z, this was a discourse about deep social issues. The singing and the rapping was sometimes in French, sometimes in English. At first the rappers were who you would expect - super cool looking black guys. But then white guys began to take turns too, and they were all so ordinary in their appearance that I never would have guessed that they rapped. By day they probably work behind a desk at some bank. By the time another girl had assembled her flute and begun to play along everyone in the room was standing (except for Christine and I - we weren't sure what to do with ourselves). Then the crowd parted to let in a woman playing a tenor sax, who went to go stand by the flutist, and the two began improvising in tandem. I couldn't predict what would happen: sometimes many people would start to sing and loudly, other times no one would even be clapping while one of the guys rapped. The woman who had made us come down to the party came over one more time and made us start singing along, which I did gladly because to me the situation felt a lot like worship in church. It didn't matter though, we had to do it. Next to us were some older women who mostly danced to the music but would occasionally sing. On the floor a little toddler was attempting to break dance.
I was struck by how in this situation personal identity was insignificant - the crowd was diverse in many ways (class, race, age) and from appearances not the kind of people I would expect to associate together. Everyone was free to act how they wanted, and no one else in the room was going to judge them or lay down boundaries. The diverse appearances of the rappers especially impressed me. For the past few days I had been ruminating over Jesus' words that "when two or more are gathered together in my name I will be in their midst." I had been thinking that maybe the verse can be taken as a comment on the strongly social nature of humans, and of the powerful effect that communal experiences have on us, especially when we come together in a loving and humble way. Then I found myself in this hootenanny last night, which seemed to strongly support this notion. After awhile Christine and I went back upstairs. Around 11pm the gathering stopped, and on their way out some of the participants said goodbye to us. It seemed like before the music began the bar was handing out a free dinner on paper plates - this made more sense after we witnessed such a communal eruption. I asked a guy standing near the bar if this had been a planned event (obviously these people knew each other, so it was somewhat planned). But no, he said, it wasn't planned, it just happened.
Last night I met my friend Christine, who is on a Fulbright as a UNESCO intern in Paris, for a drink. We met at the Republique metro stop and then headed down Avenue de la Republique, to an area favored by young Parisians (I don't think it has a name, really). We stopped at the first place we saw that seemed enticing and calm enough that we could carry on a conversation, an unassuming place on a corner named Downtown Cafe. We sat on a couch and drank Belgian beers, catching up on Christmas and life in Paris. Meanwhile, a charismatic woman kept coming over to us and asking if we were doing alright, and then she told us to go downstairs because there would be something "very nice to listen to." We didn't obey, and she returned 20 minutes later, took our hands, and lead us down a spiral staircase to the basement. Immediately we heard music, but it was strange because there seemed to be several voices singing together. The lights were dim, the ceiling was low and arched, and benches lined the wall of a small room. There was a woman performing, playing the cello and singing, looping cello parts on top of each other. Her performance in itself wasn't strange, because from what I can tell looping and the use of unconventional instruments is in right now among Parisian musicians. What was strange was that other people were singing with her. Eventually another mike appeared, and a woman improvised a countermelody to the cellist's chorus, and then more mikes appeared and a circle formed and all of these guys started rapping. And this wasn't trivial corporate rap a la Jay-Z, this was a discourse about deep social issues. The singing and the rapping was sometimes in French, sometimes in English. At first the rappers were who you would expect - super cool looking black guys. But then white guys began to take turns too, and they were all so ordinary in their appearance that I never would have guessed that they rapped. By day they probably work behind a desk at some bank. By the time another girl had assembled her flute and begun to play along everyone in the room was standing (except for Christine and I - we weren't sure what to do with ourselves). Then the crowd parted to let in a woman playing a tenor sax, who went to go stand by the flutist, and the two began improvising in tandem. I couldn't predict what would happen: sometimes many people would start to sing and loudly, other times no one would even be clapping while one of the guys rapped. The woman who had made us come down to the party came over one more time and made us start singing along, which I did gladly because to me the situation felt a lot like worship in church. It didn't matter though, we had to do it. Next to us were some older women who mostly danced to the music but would occasionally sing. On the floor a little toddler was attempting to break dance.
I was struck by how in this situation personal identity was insignificant - the crowd was diverse in many ways (class, race, age) and from appearances not the kind of people I would expect to associate together. Everyone was free to act how they wanted, and no one else in the room was going to judge them or lay down boundaries. The diverse appearances of the rappers especially impressed me. For the past few days I had been ruminating over Jesus' words that "when two or more are gathered together in my name I will be in their midst." I had been thinking that maybe the verse can be taken as a comment on the strongly social nature of humans, and of the powerful effect that communal experiences have on us, especially when we come together in a loving and humble way. Then I found myself in this hootenanny last night, which seemed to strongly support this notion. After awhile Christine and I went back upstairs. Around 11pm the gathering stopped, and on their way out some of the participants said goodbye to us. It seemed like before the music began the bar was handing out a free dinner on paper plates - this made more sense after we witnessed such a communal eruption. I asked a guy standing near the bar if this had been a planned event (obviously these people knew each other, so it was somewhat planned). But no, he said, it wasn't planned, it just happened.
Friday, January 22, 2010
On Melk
*Nick in Vienna
I promised awhile back that I would write something about Melk, a monastery town that we visited with my family as a day-trip when they were here over Christmas. I mainly just want to show some pictures because it was an amazing place.
We left in the morning and caught a train to Melk from Vienna that took a little over an hour. They have a ticket here where 5 people can ride for 27 euros on a regional train, which is a pretty amazing deal. I, like most Americans, continue to be amazed and very jealous of Europe's train system. I realize it is unlikely that Americans will ever have something like this, but I, for one, would be more than willing to have higher taxes to have more trains, but I hate driving.
Anyway, we arrived in the town and started heading to the monastery. Luckily it wasn't too difficult to find because it looks like this (my brother took this picture). It was a very cold, windy day but that seemed to cut down on the tourists which was nice (and kind of a theme of my family's visit). We managed to get there just in time for a tour of the monastery in German and English - not sure if that was planned or we just go lucky. The tour is the only way to see the monastery, which is still functioning, and they keep pretty close tabs on us. They locked every room right after we left it, for example. The tour was very interesting, and if you ever find yourself in Austria definitely worth your time and money (especially if your parents are paying for it). One highlight was a reusable coffin, which I sadly don't have a picture of.
Half way through the tour we went out onto a terrace. Even though it was very cold the view was quite spectacular. I imagine it is also very lovely in summer, but I thought Melk did quite well for itself in the winter.
Next we went through a really cool library (that I might end up using) and then the highlight, an extremely lavishly decorated baroque church. I've never really been in anything quite like it, and I've been in quite a few churches over here. Here are a couple pictures, including one of the bones of a saint (can't recall which one).
After the church we made our way into the town for a very nice late lunch. We then walked around the town for a little while, but it was really just too cold to do much else, so we headed back to Vienna.
I promised awhile back that I would write something about Melk, a monastery town that we visited with my family as a day-trip when they were here over Christmas. I mainly just want to show some pictures because it was an amazing place.
We left in the morning and caught a train to Melk from Vienna that took a little over an hour. They have a ticket here where 5 people can ride for 27 euros on a regional train, which is a pretty amazing deal. I, like most Americans, continue to be amazed and very jealous of Europe's train system. I realize it is unlikely that Americans will ever have something like this, but I, for one, would be more than willing to have higher taxes to have more trains, but I hate driving.
Anyway, we arrived in the town and started heading to the monastery. Luckily it wasn't too difficult to find because it looks like this (my brother took this picture). It was a very cold, windy day but that seemed to cut down on the tourists which was nice (and kind of a theme of my family's visit). We managed to get there just in time for a tour of the monastery in German and English - not sure if that was planned or we just go lucky. The tour is the only way to see the monastery, which is still functioning, and they keep pretty close tabs on us. They locked every room right after we left it, for example. The tour was very interesting, and if you ever find yourself in Austria definitely worth your time and money (especially if your parents are paying for it). One highlight was a reusable coffin, which I sadly don't have a picture of.
Half way through the tour we went out onto a terrace. Even though it was very cold the view was quite spectacular. I imagine it is also very lovely in summer, but I thought Melk did quite well for itself in the winter.
Next we went through a really cool library (that I might end up using) and then the highlight, an extremely lavishly decorated baroque church. I've never really been in anything quite like it, and I've been in quite a few churches over here. Here are a couple pictures, including one of the bones of a saint (can't recall which one).
After the church we made our way into the town for a very nice late lunch. We then walked around the town for a little while, but it was really just too cold to do much else, so we headed back to Vienna.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Sabbath
*Jane in Paris*
The grants, the holidays, and the settling in period is finally over and upon returning to Paris I have been longing to find spiritual activities here. I had attended the American Church once and it was just fine, but for some reason it doesn't excite me. I've attended mass at St. Laurent, the church closest to my apartment, a few times, and while I enjoy the experience it can only be so fulfilling because I'm not Catholic. I realized that what I wanted was to get involved with a French protestant church. After several hours of online research Saturday night I ended up attending L'eglise reformee du Marais, because this modern denomination, the Reformed Protestant Church, descended from the Huguenots - it doesn't get more French protestant than this. The service seemed to be a mix of Catholic, liturgical protestant, and evangelical elements - we said the Lord's prayer and some other group liturgical texts (reminded me of Mass), we took Communion all standing around the perimeter of the sanctuary and we were allowed to drink the wine (reminded me of Lutheran church), and we listened to a short teaching by the pastor on the Gospel reading for that day, the baptism of Jesus (reminded me of evangelical-style preaching. The pastor talked about how only a few people knew that Jesus was something special before the moment of his baptism, and how by doing this Jesus began his public ministry by indicating that he was choosing a spiritual rather than a simply biological life. There was a meal after the service, but I felt too nervous to stay, and I am also getting over a mild cold. The plan is to go back next week and stay for the meal, no matter how awkward I feel. If you are interested their website (all in French, I think) is temple.dumarais.fr
A very different kind of spiritual thing that I plan to do is to attend a Sahaja Yoga meditation on Thursday night, held for free by the Sahaja group here in Paris in the 18th district. Some of you know that I have been doing this in Columbus for the past several months. I've let my discipline slide since I came to Europe, but I want to start it again.
At about 1 pm on Sunday I was talking to Nick on Skype when I began to hear an amplified voice speaking from somewhere nearby. This isn't an unusual occurrence here because I live next to Place de la Republique, a common meeting place for protesters. I ran out the door to see what was happening, and it was the start of an anti-abortion protest. I had planned on taking a walk that afternoon because it was 50 degrees and somewhat sunny, and so I decided to make the march into my walk. The press estimates that 20,000-25,000 people were present. Here are some pictures:
We marched from Republique to the Opera, shown in the second picture. This isn't a great picture of the building but I like it because of the guy wearing the sweet robe on the right. I saw a lot of priests and bishops marching, and they all looked awesome. There were a lot of young people - it seemed like the youth groups of a lot of churches from the provinces (France excluding Paris) had come in for the march. There were also delegations from other countries like Poland and Italy. The US was represented by me, although no one else knew this, and a San Fransisco delegation. For all of the kids the event was a time to socialize within their group, but they also seemed quite passionate and would chant when the organizers asked us to. The organizers were on three trucks loaded with speakers, and they would shout out facts and make short speeches to the crowds we passed. They would also play the current pop hits to draw attention to us and to get keep the energy of the marchers up. In between the music selections the organizers would start chants; one of them was a fun song that went like this: "If I were president of the Republique, not a single child would ever meet a tragic end. I would do my best for the smallest of men. Children would be protected if I were president of the Republique." It was all in French and rhymed, and there was even an instrumental part that went with it.
Here is what I learned from my experience:
1) No one goes to protests alone (except for me) - they are very social events
2) The various groups that are in the march move at different speeds, and the outside of the crowd moves faster than the middle, so you have to be careful and keep up the pace or before you know it hundreds of people have passed you and the stroller brigade is ramming your heels (there were a lot of parents who marched with small children in tow)
3) Parisians enjoy their protests. I was a little worried about how onlookers might respond to us, because I have no idea about the abortion debate here. I also thought people might just ignore us because there are protests and demonstrations that leave from Republique at least once a month here. But, pleasantly, a lot of people came out to the streets and watched us, and everyone was respectful. People snapped pictures and gazed at us from their balconies. The only people who were angry with us were those who unfortunately needed to cross the street as we were passing.
So that was my Sunday! No work, no shopping at the crazy sales that are going on in Paris right now. Just good old French protestant church and a pro-life march.
The grants, the holidays, and the settling in period is finally over and upon returning to Paris I have been longing to find spiritual activities here. I had attended the American Church once and it was just fine, but for some reason it doesn't excite me. I've attended mass at St. Laurent, the church closest to my apartment, a few times, and while I enjoy the experience it can only be so fulfilling because I'm not Catholic. I realized that what I wanted was to get involved with a French protestant church. After several hours of online research Saturday night I ended up attending L'eglise reformee du Marais, because this modern denomination, the Reformed Protestant Church, descended from the Huguenots - it doesn't get more French protestant than this. The service seemed to be a mix of Catholic, liturgical protestant, and evangelical elements - we said the Lord's prayer and some other group liturgical texts (reminded me of Mass), we took Communion all standing around the perimeter of the sanctuary and we were allowed to drink the wine (reminded me of Lutheran church), and we listened to a short teaching by the pastor on the Gospel reading for that day, the baptism of Jesus (reminded me of evangelical-style preaching. The pastor talked about how only a few people knew that Jesus was something special before the moment of his baptism, and how by doing this Jesus began his public ministry by indicating that he was choosing a spiritual rather than a simply biological life. There was a meal after the service, but I felt too nervous to stay, and I am also getting over a mild cold. The plan is to go back next week and stay for the meal, no matter how awkward I feel. If you are interested their website (all in French, I think) is temple.dumarais.fr
A very different kind of spiritual thing that I plan to do is to attend a Sahaja Yoga meditation on Thursday night, held for free by the Sahaja group here in Paris in the 18th district. Some of you know that I have been doing this in Columbus for the past several months. I've let my discipline slide since I came to Europe, but I want to start it again.
At about 1 pm on Sunday I was talking to Nick on Skype when I began to hear an amplified voice speaking from somewhere nearby. This isn't an unusual occurrence here because I live next to Place de la Republique, a common meeting place for protesters. I ran out the door to see what was happening, and it was the start of an anti-abortion protest. I had planned on taking a walk that afternoon because it was 50 degrees and somewhat sunny, and so I decided to make the march into my walk. The press estimates that 20,000-25,000 people were present. Here are some pictures:
We marched from Republique to the Opera, shown in the second picture. This isn't a great picture of the building but I like it because of the guy wearing the sweet robe on the right. I saw a lot of priests and bishops marching, and they all looked awesome. There were a lot of young people - it seemed like the youth groups of a lot of churches from the provinces (France excluding Paris) had come in for the march. There were also delegations from other countries like Poland and Italy. The US was represented by me, although no one else knew this, and a San Fransisco delegation. For all of the kids the event was a time to socialize within their group, but they also seemed quite passionate and would chant when the organizers asked us to. The organizers were on three trucks loaded with speakers, and they would shout out facts and make short speeches to the crowds we passed. They would also play the current pop hits to draw attention to us and to get keep the energy of the marchers up. In between the music selections the organizers would start chants; one of them was a fun song that went like this: "If I were president of the Republique, not a single child would ever meet a tragic end. I would do my best for the smallest of men. Children would be protected if I were president of the Republique." It was all in French and rhymed, and there was even an instrumental part that went with it.
Here is what I learned from my experience:
1) No one goes to protests alone (except for me) - they are very social events
2) The various groups that are in the march move at different speeds, and the outside of the crowd moves faster than the middle, so you have to be careful and keep up the pace or before you know it hundreds of people have passed you and the stroller brigade is ramming your heels (there were a lot of parents who marched with small children in tow)
3) Parisians enjoy their protests. I was a little worried about how onlookers might respond to us, because I have no idea about the abortion debate here. I also thought people might just ignore us because there are protests and demonstrations that leave from Republique at least once a month here. But, pleasantly, a lot of people came out to the streets and watched us, and everyone was respectful. People snapped pictures and gazed at us from their balconies. The only people who were angry with us were those who unfortunately needed to cross the street as we were passing.
So that was my Sunday! No work, no shopping at the crazy sales that are going on in Paris right now. Just good old French protestant church and a pro-life march.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Visit to Chartres
*Jane in Paris*
Nick and I visited the town of Chartres yesterday, which is 1 hour SW of Paris by train. Even though it was supposed to rain and I woke up feeling sick we decided to proceed as planned, because Nick really wanted to see a part of France that wasn't Paris before he leaves on Friday. I had heard that Chartres is cool because it has an old cathedral, and so I thought, "it'll be nice to see an authentic Gothic church." But wow, this place was amazing. We both agree that it is the most amazing church we've ever seen - not necessarily our favorite in every way, but a building that just makes your jaw drop. First the church encloses a huge amount of space and the arched ceiling is so far in the sky that it does seem "heavenly." This would be an impressive architectural feet today, yet it was built 800 years ago and has stood the test of several centuries. I can't really describe any better the profound feeling that being in a big place gave me. Then there are the windows!
There are over 100 stained glass windows in Chartres Cathedral, all of them very large and covered with intricate depictions of Biblical stories, the lives of saints, and even some secular topics like local merchant guilds. We were there on a cloudy day, and even this little bit of light lit up the stained glass brilliantly. We didn't take many pictures of the cathedral because it's really all about the windows, and the effect of light through glass doesn't come across well in a picture. The most famous window is the "Blue Virgin," a 12th-century window depicting Mary in a garment of a striking, rare blue color. 
Unfortunately it was colder in the church than it was outside, I'm guessing due to the height of the ceiling, and so we were unable to devote the several hours necessary to examine all of the windows. The cold weather, however, at least kept all but a few other people out of the church that day. I can't imagine what it's like there in the summer, when tourists and pilgrims from all over the world descend upon it. Gazing at the windows in absolute silence made the experience all the more spiritual. After staying inside the cathedral for as long as we could stand, we went to La Serpente, a restaurant in the vicinity. This was one of the most elegant places I have ever eaten in - you could sense that the owners and workers of the establishment paid attention to every detail. Not only was the food good - delicate onion soup, homemade sorbets and ice cream - but the decor and ambiance made me want to just sit and relax.
We also walked around the town a little and visited the museum at the International Center of Stained Glass. There were several works by Udo Zembock, an artist who layers sheets of colored glass to an ethereal effect.
Nick poses in front of a replica of some of his pieces - most of which are functional pieces that decorate modern buildings.In other news, Nick and I are well into our 4th month of living in Europe. It is odd to feel simultaneously at home and not at home, and to furthermore have grown comfortable with this constant dichotomy. People here ask us all the time where we're from, and at this point in my life I feel so detached/freed from any feeling of "from" that the question doesn't even seem worth answering. I don't mean this in a negative way - it's just that due to moving so many times, a physical location has been obliterated from my sense of identity. This year things have become much more complicated because not only am I living on a different continent, but I split my time pretty much evenly between two different countries. I've met a lot of other dissociated people in Paris and Vienna (from a certain place and has since lived in multiple other countries), especially in church groups, and I've really enjoyed being a part of them. In situations like that people become just people - you have to consider them individually because they cannot be simply categorized.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Some Reflections on the Solitude Thus Far
*Nick in the Vienna Airport
I am heading to see Jane in Paris, and right now I am sitting in the Vienna airport next to a Starbucks (which I hate, mostly for social and economic reasons) that is pimping their “Kaffeegeschmack,” which is a sweet word that I’m pretty sure just means tasty coffee. This seemed like a good time to update some travel stats and reflect on how things are going.
First the reflections: these 9 months in Europe are going by very, very quickly, and I still feel like I haven’t totally dove into my research. This is mostly because we both had grant applications due in November and December which took up most of our time. Overall, though, I rather enjoy living in Europe. I really miss living with Jane, I miss friends, family, and sports in the States, but it seems like European culture sits well with me. I guess it makes sense that I research European history. I’m not sure I would want to live here for an extended period of time, but I could totally see spending a decade or so in Europe, although the likelihood of an employer feeling the same way is very, very small, so there is little reason in worrying about that. Still, the slower pace of live, emphasis on beautiful spaces and art, amazing public transit, and a consumer economy based on small neighborhood stores rather than megastores with mega parking lots is all quite appealing. (Yes, I realize this is subjective and based pretty much solely on Vienna and Paris, likely the two most beautiful cities on the continent). Also, I can take my dog on the subway, and that about seals it up. Even though the likelihood of actually living here is very small, if we stick with our current discipline we will probably be returning to Europe every year or two, so I guess it is nice that we like it.
Well, I’ll stop rambling and give the data as best as I can remember. These are based after we first arrived in Vienna.
Intercity flights:
Jane – 6
Nick – 2 (soon to be 4)
Intercity train rides:
Jane – 5
Nick – 6
Mason – 4 (he’s getting better at them)
Operas and ballets
Jane – 6
Nick – 6 (4 were together)
Mason – 3 (just kidding)
Sausages wrapped in bacon and filled with cheese
Nick – 1
Ben (my brother) – 2, I think, which means he did better in one week in Vienna than I have done in 3 months)
Mason – 0, about which he is visibly upset
I am heading to see Jane in Paris, and right now I am sitting in the Vienna airport next to a Starbucks (which I hate, mostly for social and economic reasons) that is pimping their “Kaffeegeschmack,” which is a sweet word that I’m pretty sure just means tasty coffee. This seemed like a good time to update some travel stats and reflect on how things are going.
First the reflections: these 9 months in Europe are going by very, very quickly, and I still feel like I haven’t totally dove into my research. This is mostly because we both had grant applications due in November and December which took up most of our time. Overall, though, I rather enjoy living in Europe. I really miss living with Jane, I miss friends, family, and sports in the States, but it seems like European culture sits well with me. I guess it makes sense that I research European history. I’m not sure I would want to live here for an extended period of time, but I could totally see spending a decade or so in Europe, although the likelihood of an employer feeling the same way is very, very small, so there is little reason in worrying about that. Still, the slower pace of live, emphasis on beautiful spaces and art, amazing public transit, and a consumer economy based on small neighborhood stores rather than megastores with mega parking lots is all quite appealing. (Yes, I realize this is subjective and based pretty much solely on Vienna and Paris, likely the two most beautiful cities on the continent). Also, I can take my dog on the subway, and that about seals it up. Even though the likelihood of actually living here is very small, if we stick with our current discipline we will probably be returning to Europe every year or two, so I guess it is nice that we like it.
Well, I’ll stop rambling and give the data as best as I can remember. These are based after we first arrived in Vienna.
Intercity flights:
Jane – 6
Nick – 2 (soon to be 4)
Intercity train rides:
Jane – 5
Nick – 6
Mason – 4 (he’s getting better at them)
Operas and ballets
Jane – 6
Nick – 6 (4 were together)
Mason – 3 (just kidding)
Sausages wrapped in bacon and filled with cheese
Nick – 1
Ben (my brother) – 2, I think, which means he did better in one week in Vienna than I have done in 3 months)
Mason – 0, about which he is visibly upset
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Silvester in Vienna
*Jane in Vienna*
I have been in Vienna since December 17th. Most of my visit here has been spent with Nick's immediate family, who came to Vienna for the holidays. We have been doing a lot of touristy things with them, which has been nice because we could have never seen so many things without Nick's parents paying for it, but after a few weeks of doing this we are both ready to get back to working on our dissertations and settling back into a daily routine.
We spent Dec. 29-30 in Budapest with Nick's parents.
It's a really weird place! Nick and I went there on our honeymoon three years ago, and the bizarreness of the language to us English speakers was enough to make it strange. It's really the language of the Magyar tribe that for whatever reason never died out. It's closest relative is Finnish, but even there the relationship is distant. After my second visit to Budapest I have finally figured out some Hungarian words, although nothing helpful. "Jegy" means ticket, and "Ter" means square. Then there are all of the Soviet era leftover statues and buildings, and for some reason piles of rubble and unfinished construction sites pervade the outskirts of Budapest and aren't uncommon even in affluent places within the city. In this picture an unattractive building site lies on the ground of the royal palace.
New Year's Eve is called "Silvester" in Austria because Dec. 31st is St. Silvester's Day.
The same name was used in Hungary, based on advertisements I saw in Budapest. Vienna holds a huge outdoor celebration for Silvester, but unlike Times Square, people are allowed to drink outside and there are no security checks required. The city set up several stages in downtown and connected all of them by the "Silvester Pfad" (path), marked by colorful flags.
Nick and I planned to ring in the new year at St Steven's Place, but our low tolerance for the European musical sensibility caused us to relocate to a bar near the university at around 11pm. The music there was still pretty irritating, but occasionally the DJ played things we liked.
So Europeans love rock music, but they don't understand it the same way Americans do. Basically, Americans tend to understand the music in a much more African-American influenced way - we love the backbeat, gritty unpolished sounds, and it still stands for rebellion. In Europe rock tends to be polished and pretty, and everything tends towards either chanson or dance music. To me the rock often gets lost. The stage pictured above seemed to be the most popular, and all it consisted of was some kids dancing to remixed American music. The dancers didn't seem to have planned very much ahead of time, and there dances reminded me of Stomp competitions. They were silly, but the music was disappointing to us because it all just boiled down to dance music. "Billy Jean," "Country Road," and the White Stripes "Seven Nation Army" were all squared up to a dance beat, which was so prominent that most of the tracks from the original song had been stripped away. Michael Jackson's voice was barely audible in Billy Jean!! We enjoyed observing a musical culture that was so similar and yet so different to our own, but we could only take so much of getting excited when a song would start and then hearing it quickly turn into the same dance music. The people in the crowd, though, loved this stuff. Everyone sang along when there were occasional words and danced nonstop. (By the way, the bass part to "Seven Nation Army" has already spread to European crowds). Other fascinating stages included the cover band stage at City Hall - when we were there a Brian Adams cover band was playing (seriously - do these even exist in the US or Canada? Ok, they probably do in Canada...) There was also a stage for older people that featured music that reminded me of one of those variety shows from the 60s.
Apparently there is no law against fireworks in Vienna, at least not on New Year's Eve. People were lighting them up throughout the day in our neighborhood, which is usually very quiet. You would walk down the street and suddenly jump because some kids had lit 30 firecrackers on the sidewalk in front of you. This made us on edge, but it was also neat that people were making their own celebrations rather than waiting for the government to do it for them.
At midnight Nick and I were at a bar, and everyone ran out of the building to watch fireworks shooting off in all directions, as people happily took it upon themselves to make the show. The scene doesn't really come across in this picture - but you can see some ground-level fireworks in the background and all of the smoke in the area. As we rode the U-Bahn home people were lighting fireworks at the stations. Even though we were weary from our weeks of holiday traveling and touring, the night was still really fun. Prosit neues Jahr, everyone!
I have been in Vienna since December 17th. Most of my visit here has been spent with Nick's immediate family, who came to Vienna for the holidays. We have been doing a lot of touristy things with them, which has been nice because we could have never seen so many things without Nick's parents paying for it, but after a few weeks of doing this we are both ready to get back to working on our dissertations and settling back into a daily routine.
We spent Dec. 29-30 in Budapest with Nick's parents.
It's a really weird place! Nick and I went there on our honeymoon three years ago, and the bizarreness of the language to us English speakers was enough to make it strange. It's really the language of the Magyar tribe that for whatever reason never died out. It's closest relative is Finnish, but even there the relationship is distant. After my second visit to Budapest I have finally figured out some Hungarian words, although nothing helpful. "Jegy" means ticket, and "Ter" means square. Then there are all of the Soviet era leftover statues and buildings, and for some reason piles of rubble and unfinished construction sites pervade the outskirts of Budapest and aren't uncommon even in affluent places within the city. In this picture an unattractive building site lies on the ground of the royal palace.New Year's Eve is called "Silvester" in Austria because Dec. 31st is St. Silvester's Day.
The same name was used in Hungary, based on advertisements I saw in Budapest. Vienna holds a huge outdoor celebration for Silvester, but unlike Times Square, people are allowed to drink outside and there are no security checks required. The city set up several stages in downtown and connected all of them by the "Silvester Pfad" (path), marked by colorful flags. Nick and I planned to ring in the new year at St Steven's Place, but our low tolerance for the European musical sensibility caused us to relocate to a bar near the university at around 11pm. The music there was still pretty irritating, but occasionally the DJ played things we liked.
So Europeans love rock music, but they don't understand it the same way Americans do. Basically, Americans tend to understand the music in a much more African-American influenced way - we love the backbeat, gritty unpolished sounds, and it still stands for rebellion. In Europe rock tends to be polished and pretty, and everything tends towards either chanson or dance music. To me the rock often gets lost. The stage pictured above seemed to be the most popular, and all it consisted of was some kids dancing to remixed American music. The dancers didn't seem to have planned very much ahead of time, and there dances reminded me of Stomp competitions. They were silly, but the music was disappointing to us because it all just boiled down to dance music. "Billy Jean," "Country Road," and the White Stripes "Seven Nation Army" were all squared up to a dance beat, which was so prominent that most of the tracks from the original song had been stripped away. Michael Jackson's voice was barely audible in Billy Jean!! We enjoyed observing a musical culture that was so similar and yet so different to our own, but we could only take so much of getting excited when a song would start and then hearing it quickly turn into the same dance music. The people in the crowd, though, loved this stuff. Everyone sang along when there were occasional words and danced nonstop. (By the way, the bass part to "Seven Nation Army" has already spread to European crowds). Other fascinating stages included the cover band stage at City Hall - when we were there a Brian Adams cover band was playing (seriously - do these even exist in the US or Canada? Ok, they probably do in Canada...) There was also a stage for older people that featured music that reminded me of one of those variety shows from the 60s.Apparently there is no law against fireworks in Vienna, at least not on New Year's Eve. People were lighting them up throughout the day in our neighborhood, which is usually very quiet. You would walk down the street and suddenly jump because some kids had lit 30 firecrackers on the sidewalk in front of you. This made us on edge, but it was also neat that people were making their own celebrations rather than waiting for the government to do it for them.
At midnight Nick and I were at a bar, and everyone ran out of the building to watch fireworks shooting off in all directions, as people happily took it upon themselves to make the show. The scene doesn't really come across in this picture - but you can see some ground-level fireworks in the background and all of the smoke in the area. As we rode the U-Bahn home people were lighting fireworks at the stations. Even though we were weary from our weeks of holiday traveling and touring, the night was still really fun. Prosit neues Jahr, everyone!
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