(8/23/12) Mauthausen

There is no way to really fathom all of what we experienced today. We visited the Mauthausen concentration camp, which is located just outside of Linz, Austria. I had been anxious about this trip since the start of the program, knowing that my experience would be deep and complicated. I had heard many stories of the Holocaust in my Jewish education, through books, pictures, and second and first-hand accounts. 

I analyzed the experience of visiting a concentration camp and the politics of memory in regards to remembering the past events of the Holocaust in my term paper. So, I’ll take this opportunity to use the blog as more of an emotional processing of Mauthausen. With every new building we encountered (and especially in the execution room), I was taken aback with emotion. I couldn’t fathom how the camp was once filled with tons and tons of people, Jews, homosexuals, political “enemies” of the Third Reich, and many other groups of people, all united under oppression. Of course, this unification did not allow for the imprisoned to rise up– they lacked the resources and were far too weak to do anything drastic in opposition to their oppressors and had to wait for the United States to liberate the camps at the end of the war. 

I agree to a certain extent with Ruth Kluger’s opinion of concentration camps. Although I’m not as militantly against them, I find that the experience cannot be understood fully when the visitor is capable of leaving the camp. Also, since its basically been transformed into more of a museum than anything, it lacks the real horror it used to possess. 

However, the experience really did affect me, which I think is the real intent and purpose of Mauthausen. After visiting, despite my agnostic leanings, I’ve decided that I’d like to raise my children Jewish. I think that after everything Jews went through in the Holocaust, it makes sense to carry on the Jewish tradition, even if spiritually, I don’t find myself identifying as much with the Jewish religion. 

(8/16/12) Trekkin' the Alps

Well, the scary gondola ride was completely worth it. My experience of hiking in the Alps is one of my favorite experiences in Europe so far. After a good night’s rest, we all woke up the next day, ready to hike! Okay, that’s a lie. I didn’t want to get up, and even skipped out on the free breakfast in order to catch a few more Z’s in the morning. But I was really excited about hiking, and rightfully so. 

My roommates and I (plus two other girls) embarked on the hike apart from the rest of the group. I like that we were given the freedom to do whatever we wanted with the hike, allowing for us to explore wherever we wanted. The six of us wandered deep into the Alps, picking flowers and listening to music together as we explored. Although there is a lot of really amazing hiking in America, and especially in California, hiking the Alps was a very unique experience. Everything was so green and vibrant! The views were incredible. There is absolutely no way to convey the experience verbally, so I’m just going to post a bunch of pictures now. I have a cape, bye!

(8/30/12) Weening myself off Wien

So long, farewell, auf wiedersen goodbye? I guess so. I luckily extended my stay in Vienna by one day, cutting into my post-program travels in Germany, so that I could feel less stressed about cramming in all the activities I wanted to accomplish in Vienna. But alas, today was bittersweet with goodbyes to people and a city that I had grown so close to in so little time. We fought against our imminent sadness by drinking seemingly-bottomless white wine at the Heurigen we visited at the beginning of the trip (and we racked up quite the bill in the meantime!). Ah, bookends. 

Die Madels and our idol, K-Stu.

Upon doing some research for my paper, I found an article interviewing Ruth Kluger (as my paper will be on the topic of the holocaust) where she states that Vienna is innately an anti-semitic city. (Here's a link to the article where she makes this claim: http://www.spiegel.de/international/holocaust-survivor-ruth-klueger-vienna-reeks-of-anti-semitism-a-435879.html) She explains how anti-semitism runs rampant throughout the city, and how she hates Vienna for it. This, of course, is where Kluger was born and lived until she was sent off with her mother to the concentration camps. Her experiences as a child in Vienna were difficult, as she was discriminated against greatly as a young Jewish girl. She describes how she had to go to many different schools, learning nothing in the meantime since she could never fully settle a school or receive a decent education. Her only escape at the time was through reading. In the interview, she tells of returning to Vienna later on and hating it all the same, even down to the people she encountered. 

Of course, I won’t end my blog on such a negative reflection on Vienna, as I don’t agree with Kluger. While it wasn’t particularly saturated with Jewish culture and religion, I didn’t encounter any kinds of signs of anti-semitism. I know that Kluger’s experience was entirely different from mine, and that her experience definitely gets more credit: hers, a depressing, decrepit, and traumatizing childhood, and mine, a fulfilling and enlightening short-term summer abroad experience. However, this issue of history and memory (something that I will reflect on further in my paper) and how the two work together to define one another is demonstrated in Kluger’s tarnished connection with Vienna. Her own personal memory of the city is colored by oppression and hatred, and thus, her concept of Vienna remains stagnant and somewhat biased. I do think it is unfair of her to deem the entire city as being anti-semitic, but of course, she is entitled to this strong opinion. This writes off centuries of history and culture, the Babenburgs, the Habsburgs, Reformations and counter-reformations, wars, etc by making such a harsh claim. I understand that Kluger is unable to visit Vienna, carelessly walking along the Danube, visiting the Kunsthistoriches Museum, snacking guiltlessly on the second Sacher Torte of the day without recalling her uniquely traumatic past. But with this emotional bias she places on her opinion of the city as a whole, she dilutes the complete truth of how it really is to be in Vienna. 

Long story short, Vienna was an amazing, beautiful city to have such a wonderful summer abroad experience in. Shoutout to my girl Kathy Stuart for pulling together such a great group of badasses. 

(8/28/12) Us and the UN

The group at the UN!

Today, we left Vienna, and Austria for that matter, without even leaving Vienna. I had experienced this odd occurrence once before, on a trip with my synagogue, Temple Beth El of Aliso Viejo. The rabbi took the confirmation class every two years or so to New York for a trip, exploring Judaism and the like. We had the chance to visit the UN in New York, of which I unfortunately remember very little. What I did remember was that once we entered the UN, we left New York and the USA, entering international grounds. I was very impressed with that, and bragged to my dad (who loves politics and history) about it. 

I was impressed for a second time, not because we left the country (I honestly think that whole “international grounds” thing is kind of silly, and as a sidenote, it reminds me of this six-inch hole on the Berkeley campus that is free from law, some leftover relic of the free speech days. One could not possibly fit into the “free hole” and thus could not do something free from the law, so it’s all symbolic hodgepodge.) But, as I continually discovered in my travels to Austria, Austria carries a lot of power. The UN situates itself in four places: New York, Geneva, Nairobi, and Vienna (I suppose I have to head to Geneva and Nairobi to “catch ‘em all”).  

The free hole.

Update: (9/14/12) Yesterday, I received an alert from the New York Times, as an article regarding the IAEA (the International Atomic Energy Agency) was posted. The IAEA is apart of the UN, and when we visited the UN, we got a chance to visit the IAEA as well. We also heard a lecture from an entertaining, American member of the IAEA named Greg Webb. During his lecture, he commented on the issue with Iran and their nuclear weapon testing. Iran was refusing to keep its supply of uranium in check or to stop doing nuclear research, both refusals pointing to an interest in nuclear science, and inevitably, the use of nuclear weapons. This is especially troubling in regards to the conflict in the middle east, and is, for lack of better terminology, pissing Israel off. Israel is, in return, threatening the use of airstrikes, obviously not conducive to peace in the middle east. 

Anyway, the article addresses this problem, stating that the IAEA passed a resolution publicly disapproving of what Iran was up to in their nuclear research. Of course, with the IAEA being apart of the UN, this does not mean they intend on doing anything other than voicing disapproval (I don’t even mean this in a deprecating way, but the disapproval was more of a call for peaceful resolution than for any action). The truth is that the UN really can’t do anything about the situation, other than vocally comment. Iran’s procrastination in complying with the UN’s demands is a little frightening, indicating the possibility (even if it’s a small possibility) of nuclear warfare in the middle east. A quote from the article comments on Iran’s possible methods of clearing up evidence of testing: “Mr. Wood, the United States envoy, accused Iran of “systematically demolishing” a facility at the Parchin military site that agency inspectors want to visit as part of their investigation.” This of course would imply that they have something to cover up. 

The cool, not-as-scary part of this whole thing is that we were at the UN as the IAEA was making the decision to comment on Iran’s illegal activity. Greg Hess even mentioned that the talks had been going on that week. What’s funny to me is how Vienna is so unknown in some ways. I remember when I first told one of my good friends about my trip to Vienna, she said, “Oh, I love Italy!” But in other ways, Vienna is so unarguably significant. I’m not sure how this situation with Iran will turn out, but I'm sure that the decisions in regards to action towards Iran and the middle east will be made right there at the IAEA. Luckily for those world leaders, the food in the cafeteria is really good, and really cheap. 

Here’s a link to the New York Times article: http://www.nytimes.com/2012/09/14/world/middleeast/un-nuclear-watchdog-passes-resolution-on-iran.html?_r=1&emc=tnt&tntemail1=y

(8/20/12) Mozart Time!

Cue the Mozart music! Finally, we got a chance to see all the Mozart posers who hassled us at the Graben in action. I absolutely loved the Mozart concert we attended this evening, which had an orchestra of Mozart-imitators and wonderful opera singers to complement the beautiful music. Although I did enjoy the first concert we went to, this one was much more entertaining, a tribute to one of the many great people who contributed to making Vienna, and Austria, well-known. The first concert we attended was set in the beautiful Karlskirche, but I personally preferred the bright, ornate setting of the Mozart concert to the church (perhaps we can chalk that up to church overload– I love a good church as much as the next Jew, but eventually, the Baroque churches start blending into each other). 

Oh look, another Baroque church!

In addition to the magic of the evening being set by a beautiful building with melodious music, I encountered a bit of a funny, culturally-weird happenstance. There was a young Chinese girl, no more than ten years old, sitting a few rows in front of us, and she spent most of her time playing with what I assume was her mother’s iPhone (yet, who knows, maybe it was hers). Occasionally, I would catch her texting in Chinese or looking at something online. It was distracting, but I also understood that when you’re ten, you’re not really interested in a Mozart symphony complete with opera in a language you really don’t understand. 

Then, we had intermission, giving us a chance to stretch our legs and down a red bull. The second half of the show was even more entertaining than the first, with upbeat Mozart tunes and exciting things happening with the opera singers. I was getting really into it, when the Chinese girl’s iPhone caught my eye. Particularly, a picture of my friends Annemarie and Maria caught my eye, on the background of the girl’s phone! She had snapped a candid shot of the two of them during intermission, and set it as her background. I was so taken aback that I just started laughing, and immediately told my friend Jon of what I’d seen. Unfortunately, she changed the screen by the time I could call his attention to what I’d seen. It took me a few minutes to refocus on the concert, as I’d never seen something like that before. Although, I also recalled on how before the Mozart show, we took pictures outside and some tourists started snapping picture of us. 

We did look fine...maybe that's why.

Later on, as I was telling the story to most of the people in our program while sipping on Hugos, my friend Gezi (who happens to be from China) mentioned that she had done that before when she was little. Apparently, taking pictures of white women as a Chinese girl is something kind of normal. I felt a little ignorant for finding it so funny initially, but it was just shocking to catch by accident. I love that in Europe I can have such a unique cultural experience at an already-unique cultural event. Go Vienna. 

(8/19/12) Bathin' in Budapest

After my travels to Paris and Zurich before the start of the program, I found that some countries were more expensive to visit than others. Luckily, Vienna falls in a cheaper category than Paris and Zurich (though, not by much). Budapest, especially in comparison with all of these cities, is really freaking cheap. With a bus fare totaling forty euro round trip and a huge five star hotel room for under 100 euro (comfortably housing six people), I knew this city was going to be different than the other super-touristy, super-expensive countries I had visited. 

Me and a weird picture of a Zebra in our hotel room. Obviously.

When we first arrived to Budapest, I spoke with a very friendly Hungarian man who gave me detailed directions on how to get to our hotel. These directions included use of the underground train system, which I was excited to see. Although I am an avid driver, fulfilling my Californian stereotype by having an intimate relationship with my Kia, I always got excited to see all the different forms of transportation in Europe. Paris’s train system reminded me a lot of Chicago’s train system, Zurich and Vienna seemed to share in the use of efficient, clean street cars/buses, and Budapest reminded me of what I might find in the cities of Russia or other eastern European countries. The train was old, and made noises that had me briefly questioning my choice to visit the Hungarian city. But, of course, my anxiety was unnecessary (as it usually is), as the rickety old train got us safely to our destination. We took in a cheap dinner and enjoyed a little Budapest nightlife that evening. 

10, 868 HUF=38.6040 Euro. Not bad for a feast for four!

I’d love to sit here and spew out all of the interesting facts I learned about Budapest on my walking tour, or post pictures of the cool paintings I saw at the museum we visited, but I must stick with honesty, as it truly is the best policy: I was there for the Turkish baths. Dreams of twenty euro massages filled my head, and when we finally made it to the Turkish baths (a mere few hours before our bus departed back to Vienna...yes, that’s foreshadowing trouble), I went hard. I have gotten a few massages in my life, all overpriced, nestled in fancy spas and hotels, and all completely worth it. I don’t want to say that the baths were a total disappointment, but I will say that they were not entirely what I expected.

The accommodations reminded me of my local YMCA, with cheap lockers and presumably dirty tile floors. Another aspect reminiscent of the YMCA was the clientele– old people! And they had no shame. I ran into some older folk who’s bathing suits were more revealing than my own. Honestly, I found it very refreshing and wasn’t “grossed out” in the least. I liked feeling comfortable, as most of my bathing suit experiences back in the states include me being surrounded by blonde, tan, thin girls, and here at the Turkish baths, I didn’t feel like I had to skip a meal or lay out in the sun for hours to fit in (which wouldn't have worked anyway, as I don't tan, I burn). 

After a somewhat creepy massage, it was already time to return to good ol’ Osterreich. After barely making our bus (there's that foreshadowed trouble), I reflected upon my decisions in traveling. I learned a lot about how to properly tour cities: stick with my usual method, which is walking a lot and checking out the museums. While the baths were an excellent cultural experience, I definitely wish I would have thought more about seeing the actual city instead of just the inside of a bath house. 

Another great cultural experience: KFC in Budapest

(8/15/12) To the Alps!

Today, we were Alps-bound. I really didn’t know what to expect, other than the intimidatingly steep gondola ride to the top of the mountain. Tomorrow, we’re getting a chance to hike and explore the alps, so I’ll touch upon all that later.

Having fun on the gondola ride...not.

Most of today was consumed by a visit to Eisenstadt, a beautiful town in Austria and the former seat of the Eszterhazy noble family (Haydn also lived here under patronage from the Eszterhazy family). It’s very small, with a small number of inhabitants, and we spent about six hours there, giving us a chance to explore the whole area. It was August 15th, though, which in Vienna is the Ascension of Mary, one of the biggest holidays of the year. On a personal note, I felt extremely nauseous after consuming the popular digestive yogurt product Activia, and found my approach to all the events in Eisenstadt rather negative because I just wanted to curl up into a ball all day. 

The culprit.

Despite my personal, digestive struggles, I still found the small town enjoyable, and was most especially drawn to the Jewish portion of the tour. We visited a synagogue, and when I wasn’t doubled over in pain, I was in awe of the intimate size and the gorgeous design. The tour guide asked us (in German, which Kathy translated to English for us) what makes the synagogue we were in an Orthodox synagogue. The answered lied to the right of where I was sitting, a little segment of the room closed off by a gated wall. This area was designated for women to sit, since Orthodox Jews make women and men sit separately during services. When this was revealed as the answer, my reaction was a “duh” moment, as I was raised Jewish and am fairly familiar with the traditional practices of Orthodox Jews (this was not the case with a couple of my friends in the program, who were shocked to hear that even to this day, women and men had to sit separately in an Orthodox synagogue).

This orthodox synagogue made me think about the Jewish population in Vienna and in Austria. Vienna is traditionally very Catholic, so I thought maybe the Jewish population would be defined by the most traditional sect, which would be Orthodox Judaism. But upon a little research (thanks Wikipedia!) I learned that the biggest population of Jews in Austria is in Vienna, and that population is defined by both reform (the more liberal Judaism that I was raised in) and orthodox Jews. Who'd have guessed?

The Orthodox synagogue we visited in Eisenstadt. 

(8/14/12) Prague daze

Today has mostly been dominated by recovering from the trip to Prague. I woke up this morning way later than I would have hoped and scurried off to class. Luckily, I wasn’t late, but lecture was hard for me because my brain was still waking up. In lecture, we discussed more of the counter-reformation. More specifically, we focused on the effects of the Thirty Years War. As I recalled from AP Euro in high school, the Defenestration of Prague was a large factor in the start of the Thirty Years War (and we got a chance to see the window where it all occurred in Prague!). What I found most interesting from class today was the number of countries that were against the Habsburg empire. France, everything the Turks touched, Protestant parts of Germany, and other various places scattered throughout Europe were opposed to the Habsburg rule. What shocks me is how the Habsburgs were able to hold onto power for so long, despite the many countries that fought them for power.

Too soon? Apparently a reenactment of the Defenestration.

On a tangent from this historical reflection, I remember something I wanted to bring up from my weekend trip to Prague. I noticed more beggars on the streets in Prague than we see in Vienna. We actually even had an encounter with a con man, who convinced one of my fellow students to give him her Euros in exchange for Crowns (the Czech currency) at a “better rate” than the official exchange offices offered. Unfortunately, my friend received Bulgarian money, and as soon as we realized this, the man had escaped into Prague's dark shadows. She didn’t seem to be too broken up about it, but it was shocking to encounter the thievery we had heard so much about firsthand. 

Anyway, returning to the beggars, I noticed all the beggars would take on a weird position, kind of like in yoga when you do child’s pose, except less "Namaste" and more "Give me money." The beggars would be on their knees but lying face down, with their hands out holding some kind of hat or receptacle for money. This means that they wouldn’t be capable of making eye contact with you. After a little research, I found that it is a way of humbling themselves, of bowing down to people who might help them out. I spent the last four years going to school in Berkeley, so this isn’t something I can entirely grasp. The “homeless people” in Berkeley (and I use this in quotes because most of the homeless people in Berkeley, or at least off Telegraph, are street kids, or wealthy kids who have chosen living on the street as a lifestyle and usually either return to their homes in the bay area at night or stay in houses with other street kids) maintain a certain intimidating power over the students and pedestrians walking around. My friends and I tried to avoid walking down Telegraph so that we wouldn’t be harassed for extra change. While I never had a bad experience with any of these people, and rarely heard stories of them doing anything terrible, my impression of homeless beggars was and is much different than what I encountered in Prague. 

Berkeley homeless folk hanging on Telegraph...

And a Prague beggar.

Yet, oddly enough, I felt uneasy about seeing the beggars in such a submissive position. Sure, they weren’t yelling at me and telling me they needed money for weed, but it made me feel kind of like an asshole. Here I was, strutting about in Prague and buying Absinthe and this poor beggar is face-down on the dirty floor, not even attempting to make eye contact with anyone. I get that it’s a humbling thing to bow down like that, but it almost had me wishing for them to rise from their submissive position and start berating me for following “the man” or whatever those street kids in Berkeley are blabbing about. 

The aforementioned absinthe and his friends.

(8/12-13/12) Ich liebe Praha

Let me begin by saying this: I love Vienna. Ich liebe Wien. It is a beautiful city with rich culture and history, and to top that, rich food and wine. That being said, Prague is the most beautiful European city that I have seen thus far. I visited for a short period this weekend with some classmates, and found myself gasping at every single building I saw. The architecture is phenomenal, and the city is remarkably old, with each building symbolizing a distant era centuries back.

None of us really knew anything about Prague, except for that they had a really old astronomical clock (and dang, that clock was cool). But we arrived willing to cram all the tourist-y things we could into the short period that we had to spend. Our bus got in late Saturday night and our return bus would leave early Monday morning, so we pretty much had Sunday to do everything we could. Of course, I have to recommend that anyone visiting Prague should visit for a longer period than we could. But I also must say that we made the most of our time in Prague. 

The clock in action.

The Old Town Square is, to my limited amount of knowledge, the center of the city of Prague. It’s also where the astrological clock is located, so it became a sort-of home base for us jaded travelers. We found that they offered a number of free walking tours around the city, and our group jumped at that opportunity. Our guide was Justin, an ex-pat from Los Angeles who had fallen in love with a Czech woman and moved to Prague for her. (We also chose to go on a “castle tour” later on, and we were guided by another ex-pat from Kentucky. Maybe I should just get up and move to Prague.) Justin gave us a great tour around the inner city, starting at the clock (which has been around since the 1400s) and stopping at various opera houses, synagogues, and other civic buildings. It was very interesting to learn about Prague’s history because it is connected in many ways to the history of Austria. In our class, we have been learning about the Habsburg influence, but this is somewhat biased towards Austria. I enjoyed hearing about what that meant for other countries under Habsburg influence, like the Czech Republic (or Czechoslovakia). Specifically, on our castle tour, we got to see the building where the Defenestration of Prague occurred, starting the Thirty Years War. I’ve mentioned this before in my blog, I’m sure, but I absolutely love how we learn about history in class and then get the opportunity to see what we discuss firsthand. 

I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t really try to learn any Czech on my trip. It was overwhelming going from one country where you’ve kind of almost gotten to the point where you can get by with niceties (i.e. hellos, goodbyes, pleases, thank yous, where am i’s) to another country where you have no idea how to say anything and can’t even pronounce the words you read. On our tour, we learned “Ahoy!” meant hello and that’s pretty much all I remember. Also, since we did engage in a fair amount of drinking (purely as a way to imbibe the culture), I learned how to say cheers: “Nasdravi!” (I’m positive I spelled that incorrectly). Hopefully a trip to Prague lasting longer than a couple nights will be in my future...

Pilar with some Czech beer. 

Disrespectin' a nation, one guard at a time.

Kafka!!

(8/10/12) The sweet and the sour

Oh my Sacher Torte. Seriously, though. Wow. I’ve been totally nervous about gaining weight on this trip, but when I had that Sacher Torte, I stopped caring. Hemingway talks about how love is when you can be with someone who makes time feel infinite. I felt that way about the torte. I should have known it was going to be really good, because Anthony Bourdain (who doesn’t really like sweets in the first place) admitted to how good it was when he tried it in Vienna at the Hotel Sacher. I trust Anthony Bourdain, and he was completely right. We all really want to try making the torte (even though we won’t come close to making it as well as the hotel does), but this dream was deferred by the fact that we don’t have an oven! So that means we need to make some Austrian pals and borrow their oven for a few hours. 

I'm surprised I stopped eating the torte to pose for this picture.

Unfortunately, the 10th wasn’t completely saturated in delicious, sweet torte and happy memories. We had Thomas Frankl, a holocaust survivor, come to our class and speak to us. The room was packed, with our class and other students and instructors from the Austro-American Institute. Mr. Frankl was a well-dressed man, and seemed to have a very good sense of humor. I have seen holocaust survivors speak before, and all of them maintain a good sense of humor. As someone who is deeply passionate about comedy and humor, I find that it is the only way to really get through anything shitty. 

Frankl and his immediate family survived the holocaust, something I’ve unfortunately encountered less often. Many of his more distant family members did perish, however. I noticed that he and his family were caught and sent to camps later in the scheme of the war, as if I recall correctly, he said they were taken September 1944. Out of most of the survival stories I have heard, most survivors were taken to concentration camps late, which probably has some correlation with their survival. 

In addition to his well-developed sense of humor, Frankl had a remarkable sense of authentic emotion and the ability to recall salient detail. This is especially poignant, as we later were told that he is in the beginning stages of Alzheimer's. He’d have to stop himself when things were too sad or too happy, choking up. I too would choke up, getting teary eyed several times during his presentation. I’m Jewish, and holocaust education is extremely prevalent in synagogues, so I do know a ton of information about the holocaust. I’ve read books and heard stories and visited museums. However, I believe there is nothing more authentic than having the chance to someone who encountered the horror firsthand and lived to tell about it. 

(8/8/12) Augustinian cannons and aromatic tannins

Through the UC Davis program, I’ve already had a number of unique experiences that I am sure wouldn’t happen had I toured Vienna alone. Most of these unique experiences I am referring to usually include getting drunk off of remarkable (and mostly cheap) Austrian wine. Right before I came to Austria, I definitely became more of a wino, knowing to pair white wine with simple foods and that there was better wine out there than two buck chuck or, my personal former favorite, Franzia. This evolution of taste has served me well, as I can appreciate how freakin’ good this wine is. 

Today, we found ourselves in the Klosterneuburg (sp??), an Augustinian monastery on the outskirts of Vienna. When I personally think of a monastery, the last thing I think of is  alcohol, let alone wine. However, my preconceived notions of monasteries were challenged by the cannons of Klosterneuburg. And how! 

We split up into groups when touring the monastery, and I was led by the illustrious, hilarious Ambrose (not sure how to technically refer to him, possibly cannon Ambrose?). Originally from Virginia, Ambrose moved to Vienna to become an Augustinian canon. He was extremely smart, finding the church in what he claims was a search for truth and honesty in life. While we waited for the other group, Ambrose spoke to us about his journey. It had the tones of a sermon, but give the guy a break, he’s studying to be a priest, so of course it’s gonna get preachy. As a twenty something on my own existential journey (hello randomly going to Vienna the summer after my graduation), I could certainly identify with Ambrose. While our beliefs are stark in contrast, I emotionally and intellectually understood Ambrose. There is something really cool about being able to identify with someone who has chosen a path extremely different than your own. 

And obviously, over a good glass of wine, everyone gets down to the same level. Ambrose and other canon whose name escapes me currently sat down with us at dinner, drinking and even smoking cigarettes! Although I wasn’t an active participant, some of my fellow classmates and Ambrose got into an informed debate on religion and politics. It freaked me out because I found myself almost agreeing with some of what Ambrose said. I’m sure it’s just because he is an excellent debater, I don’t think after said debate I’ll be leaving my liberal values in the dust. I thought his argument was compelling because I have gotten into a few religious debates in my life with Christians and Catholics, and most of the time, these debates have felt more emotional than intellectual. Ambrose’s views contradicted mine, but I understood his brain. Where I have looked for answers to my own existential crises in literature and art, he’s found these answers in religion. I can respect that. His passion for the Catholic church impressed me, and I hope I can find something in my life that I care about that much.

(8/7/12) Lost in Vienna

In the mystical land of Vienna, you’ll find that not all U-Bahns are created equal. I learned this first hand after spending several hours trekking around Vienna (and getting remarkably lost) by bus, train, and foot. Unfortunately, due to my incompetence in the field of direction and map interpretation, I’m unsure of exactly where I was. Initially, I set out on a night walk around 8 o clock. I intended to be out for an hour or so, just to clear my head. I was feeling nauseous (mostly from sleep deprivation and eating too many lactose-filled products) and craved some fresh air. So, I set out of my journey, attempting to go north, since our classes and field trips usually send us southbound. I walked some unfamiliar streets, but everything was lit and safe. However, to my disappointment, I suddenly came across the Museumquarter. Now, I love the Museumquarter, but I wanted to walk in unfamiliar territory! Before I knew it, I reached the most familiar part of Vienna, besides my own apartment, which was the classroom right next to the Opera House. In frustration, and stupidity, I got on the first  street car I saw, promising myself that I’d get out when I found somewhere cool to walk around.

Screw you, too!

Nothing seemed to appease my touristy interests, and before I knew it, the cable car I was on went underground. This completely shocked me, reminding me of a ride at Disneyland or something. I had no idea the street cars went underground! Out of partly excitement and partly unfamiliarity, I decided to remain on the cable car in search of something new, instead of getting out and retracing my steps like I should have done. The cable car reached the end of the line, and I realized I had better get off once I saw the driver of the cable car exit. But at the very least, I was somewhere new, just like I wanted. So new, of course, that I had no idea where I was or where I needed to go. From what I could tell, I was in some kind of suburban area on the edge of the city. Panic began to slowly set in, but I remained as calm as I could. “If I need to splurge on a taxi, I’ll just not eat for a week or something,” I thought to myself. That would have been an expensive taxi ride, I bet.

I found a bus and hopped on, hoping it would lead me to some kind of familiar area. Luckily, I noticed that the end of the bus line I was on was a stop with a “U” next to it, presumably signifying the U-Bahn. Still remaining a little skeptical, I rode the bus until the end of the line, waiting in anticipation to spot the big, blue, familiar U-Bahn sign I yearned for. The second the bus came to a halt at the end of the line, I jumped off and hastily walked towards the U-Bahn. Just as I was patting myself on the back for finding my way home, I discovered that the U1, the U-Bahn train I had been directed to, was closed. It wasn’t even 11 at this point! (I later found that the U1 was closed for construction for the entire month of August. Go figure.) But the gate was shut and I was once again up the creek without a paddle. I decided it was time to put aside my pride and ask for directions. I entered a busy ice cream parlor, busting out my favorite line “Sprecken Sie Englisch???” The Austrian woman behind the counter unwillingly admitted that she did, in fact, sprecke Englisch. I asked her for a chocolate ice cream on a cone and directions to the U-Bahn, and she delivered. I was finally going to end my panic-inducing journey. 

Shoulda had one of these with me...

Needless to say, not much else happened except spilling the chocolate ice cream (she gave me way too much for my cone to handle). I eventually found the 68 tram that she guided me to, which took me to the U-Bahn, which trustingly led me home. I’ve gotten lost in this city a number of times, but the other times it was during the day or when I was with other people. I don’t really mind getting lost, but I do mind getting stressed, so I need to be a little more mindful of where I am going. But as Alanis Morissette once famously said, "You live, you learn." 

Alanis teaching us life lessons.

(8/5/12) Wien Museum

When in Vienna, it's important to remember that many shops and stores are closed on Sundays. This is due to the fact that it's such a Catholic city. However, this does not mean that there isn't still an endless amount of things to do. I surprised myself this morning by waking up in time to attend a Catholic mass at the Augustinerkirche before we had to meet up with everyone at the Wien Museum. A few fellow students and I crept into the back pews of the enormous, partially Gothic church alongside many other tourists. I suppose that is to be expected when the churches here are so beautiful. I know enough German to say "Excuse me, where is Kandlgasse?" (Entschuldigen Sie, wo ist Kandlgasse?) at two in the morning, but I certainly don't know enough to understand even a word of what is said at mass. Luckily, the music was universal and we didn't need to know German in order to enjoy it. It was quite a remarkably different afternoon for me, a young Jewish girl from California attending a Catholic mass in an old church in Vienna.

A quickly-taken snapshot of mass.

Next, we went off to do something that I am more natural at– museums. The Wien Museum, located right next to the Karlskirche, is seemingly droll on the outside, especially compared to the gorgeous Karlskirche next door, but contains endless artifacts of history and art from Vienna and beyond. I consider myself a bit more of an art person than a history person (blasphemy in this program, I know!), and was thrilled to find numerous paintings, from detailed landscapes of Vienna to nude drawings of young women. The latter, of course, refers to Gustav Klimt's work, which I had been excited to see since the beginning of the trip. His intricate, intimate style enticed me from the moment I first saw "The Kiss." After Dr. O, our brilliant tour guide, gave us yet another wonderful tour, we were free to go off on our own. After a pricey lunch, I returned to the (air conditioned) museum to finish looking at Gustav Klimt's drawings. The collection is endless, including many drawings that look more like an amateur artist's scribbles.

A Klimt sketch kind of reminiscent of "The Kiss."

I still adore Klimt's work, and am excited to see "The Kiss" when we visit the Belvedere, but it does make me wonder what should be considered art and what should be considered a "doodle." I also returned to the third floor on my own, which contained many gorgeous paintings that displayed a much more rural Vienna, charting the swift development of this rural city into the more urban city it now is. I found paintings of large groups of people, usually out at the theater or at a Viennese ball. This allowed me to connect some of the artifacts we viewed on Dr. O's tour with the bigger picture of an art/history museum. Art is history– it allows us to capture a certain time period, albeit in a more subtle manner,  becoming a snapshot of a person, a place, or a time (or perhaps all three). But more importantly, history can also be art. We viewed pots and bowls that were used for practical purposes, but had faces made on them for decorative purposes. These decorations indicate a historical time, but also indicate the significance of art and decor, even when practicality was of most importance.

(8/2/12) Hello, Vienna!

Well, it's been a month since my last post, which was a short reflection on my then-upcoming trip. Now, I find myself sitting in my Viennese apartment at 12:47 AM, trying to assemble my first "real" blog post. The past few days have been completely mad, and my bruised legs and tired feet say it all: I've treaded all over this city, yet I haven't even scratched the surface. Last summer, I spent a little over a month in Chicago, and I bring this up because it reminds me of how I prefer to get to know cities, which is by getting lost in them. Today, as my roommate and I ventured out in search of the world-famous Cafe Central, we got a little lost (yet not nearly as lost as the previous night when we were trying to find a bar called "Stylez" with a "z"). We went a block or two in the wrong direction, which was my mistake, but we found ourselves in front of what I believe was the Spanish Riding School, or as the German-speakers call it, Spanische Hofreitschule. The horse poop smell was in the air, possibly worsened by the numerous horse carriages around the riding school. 

Surprise! It's the Spanish Riding School!

Our sweet compensation for getting lost.

What's so remarkable about my inability to read google maps correctly is that now I know where the Spanish Riding School is, and I discovered this as a result of my mistake. Walking and getting lost in a city are the best ways to familiarize yourself with it, and I fully intend on continuing to misinterpret maps. We eventually found Cafe Central, quickly devouring what I decided was the best macaroon I've ever had.

I also just completed the first reading in the Beller book, which I consider a success due to the density of dates and names. Since I am (or was, considering my graduate status....eek) an English major, I'm used to heavy amounts of reading, but perhaps not as much the heaviness/density of the reading. This will take some adjusting to, as I need to go much slower than I am used to in order to absorb the concrete information better. However, what I did take away is the immense diversity in Austria and the difficulty in establishing a solid nation (especially post World War II) due to this diversity. I know very little about this period, with my knowledge mostly coming from an AP European History class I took in high school. What I do recall is that a lot of our focus in that class was western Europe, except of course when we discussed the influence of the Hapsburg monarchy. However, there is a difference between the general idea of the  Hapsburg monarchy and the independent creation and development of Austria as a nation. Beller states that Austria still struggles to establish a national identity, partially because of its affiliation with the Nazis during World War II. I am very excited to be honing in on Austria, discovering its immense influence on the development of Europe as a whole. 

Early Musings

It's a little less than a month until my trip to Europe begins. This trip is something unlike anything I've ever done, especially because I'll be traveling alone for some of it. I'm flying into France to meet up with a close friend of mine in Paris, and then I'll be taking the train through Germany to Vienna to start the study abroad program. Then, after the program, I'm schlepping up to Amsterdam, where I fly out early September. I don't speak any foreign languages (which is something I greatly regret), so I'm just going to have to use whatever innate street skills I have to navigate Europe.

I've been studying German for the past month, though, picking up some phrases and random words here and there. My practice is pretty inconsistent (summer break will do that, I suppose), so I highly doubt I'll be able to say anything more than "where's the bathroom?" or "what time is it?" But that's a start.

I also just started Vienna, A Cultural History. By start, I mean I read the foreword. But I thought it was appropriate, as James Shedel (the author of the foreword) touches upon his first trip to Vienna as a grad student and how that compared to another trip he made years later as a professor. He remarks on the great modern urban strides that the city made and how Vienna is a city characterized by a marriage of continuity (its classic identity and history that makes it so unique and appealing) and change. I'm really interested to delve into this book, and of course, the history of Vienna itself.