Hello there,
I’ve decided that the coolest thing about my trip thus far is that I now have a really strong desire to see America. I’ve always wanted to travel within the US, but never as badly as I’ve wanted to go abroad. Last year, I was planning on going to the east coast a couple of times and I was really excited about it, but they fell through in various parts of the plan. I’ve had friends that also went on road trips to Canada, California, etc. and I’ve always been way jealous.
Anyway, after speaking with so many Europeans who have been not only to NYC, but Chicago, California, Florida, etc, I’m really very serious about travelling within the US very soon. On the bright side, for once, there could not be a better time for me to want to take a trip. I’ll be done with school this spring, and I’ll have a whole year to just work and get ready for grad school. I can’t think of a better way to break up the monotony than to travel!
I already planned on coming back to Europe or something eventually before
grad school, but maybe instead of one big trip, I’ll embark on many small trips. My friend Christina is actually engaging in a THREE MONTH road trip across the US in February, and after talking with her so much, I realize exactly how awesome that would be and also how important it would be. I mean, as much I think it’s important to experience other cultures, I’ve realized it’s also important to go to important places in the US. As I said before, it’s very easy to argue that we are in ‘The American Age’ right now…and places like New York, Washington and LA have unprecedented effects on the world culturally and politically. In addition, many places in the US (Hawaii, the south, for example) do have their own distinct cultural tendencies, so it’s not like travelling to them would be that culturally deplete. Furthermore, travelling to places like New Orleans or Detroit could be eye-opening in so many unexpected ways.
In a dream scenario, I would lease a car and start in Iowa, and move my way north and west, through Montana (hitting up Yellowstone & Mount Rushmore) to Seattle. I’d then perhaps go to Canada for a day just to add another country to my list, then go south, all the way to San Diego (stopping in San Franciscso, Los Angeles and some college towns like Berkeley, of course). Perhaps I’d also head to Tiajuana for a little while, before then heading east, through Arizona (Grant Canyon!), to Vegas, Colorado (there’s so much I’d want to see here), then further west through Texas (Austin, Dallas) to New Orleans, then head to Florida (checking out Miami and who knows what else), then up north through the coastal south (perhaps Atlanta?) and finally through Washington, New York, Boston, Cape Cod, then Maine. I’d then drive back to Iowa through Philadelphia and stop in various places along the way in the Rust Belt.
This will probably never happen…but I honestly can’t think of anything more fun than random excursions throughout the US in the next 2 years that would add up to this itinerary in some form or another. Christmas Break trip to Hawaii anyone? Spring Break vacation to Miami? Summer road trip? If anything, I’m just motivated to get out of Iowa. Throughout the stressful summer and upon my emotional arrival in Europe, I kind of got into this mode where I was semi-ok with living in Iowa City until grad school. Thoughts would go through my head like ‘Ya know, if nothing else, it wouldn’t be that bad to just live in Iowa City for a year…I could hang out with Jess, and it’d be cheap, and I could go abroad here and there, and blah blah blah blah’ and I know that that was all nerves talking. Now that I’ve gotten over the initial shock of being in a foreign country and (kind of) alone, I realize just how important it is to just get the fuck out.
Because Iowa City isn’t a real place to live. It’s just this…bubble, where everything’s close and everyone knows everyone and all anyone cares about is alcohol and football, and guys are ass holes but girls don’t care, and it’s probably typical of any college town out there, but I know that I want more for my life than that. A year from now, I better not still be avoiding the ped mall if I walk home from the Java House at night. I better not be buying everything at Coral Ridge Mall!
Even in high school, I wanted to get OUT. But, for a few different reasons, I decided to go to Iowa. I mean, obviously, Iowa was and is the best school in Iowa, hands down. For that reason, I didn't look at UNI or Ames really, because they weren't as big and they weren't as good, and it seemed dumb to pay the same but get an education that wasn't as good. And I definitely didn't want to go to some shitty private school in Iowa that only had like 40 majors. Then Iowa offered me $40,000...add to that some personal stuff I now wish I could forget (ie me chickening out and settling), and Iowa was really the best option for me.
On the one hand, I'm semi-glad I settled and decided not to pursue Northwestern or UIC or Texas, because I couldn't have afforded them, even if I didn't realize it then. I most likely would have ended up transferring after a year and that would have been terrible, plus I would have paid so much more to go to Iowa as a transfer student. I'm also glad I didn't go to UNI or Ames because I feel I would hate them 10x more than Iowa City...but at least they'd be farther from Tipton, if only in distance, as opposed to anything else. But in the end, I was still really excited to get out of Tipton and into Iowa City. I guess I thought in some ways it would be different, and I guess it was, but hardly. The initial euphoria of college lasted about a year and a half. By the second semester oof my sophomore year, I was already making spreadsheets about the best grad schools to go to...and dreaming about something better. And it's pretty much been that way ever since.
But when I was on my way out of Iowa City a few weeks ago, I became less sure about how much I disliked where I live. However, I kept telling myself the same thing, over and over again, even though I was so nervous to leave, because I knew it was true: “ I deserve better than Iowa City. This is not what I want for my life.” Because I do deserve better! Living in Iowa City getting trashed every weekend at the same bars (or constantly dealing with those who do) and eating at the same marginal restaurants and only experiencing the flat plains of Iowa, something I’ve known my entire life, is not what I want for my life! Now or in the future! And now that I’ve gotten over the initial shock of being abroad once again, I’m ready to embrace what I know is true.
And I’m really excited for it. For like the whole last 4 months, I've been feeling really good about this year (2010-2011). It's just...glowing with possibility, I guess. There is so much to do and see and experience and I have so many options, that it's really, truly exciting. I fully realize now that college was not the beginning of the rest of my life, as I thought for so long, but really a transition. And I'm ready for a change!
I’ve proven that I can make things happen and that I’m not afraid to take chances, so I know that I can get out of Iowa City ASAP and see and experience and live in bigger and better places. And I can't wait.
And I still want to go to Costa Rica!
- Josh A
Monday, August 30, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Random Thought: 17
So I’m in Slovenia, and it’s gorgeous. I mean, I guess I should stop stating the obvious. Like, I’m really gonna go to any foreign country and hate it or not think its outdoors are beautiful. Anyway, I’ve been to this sweet contemporary art museum, and Lake Bled (!!), and also spend a lot of time just chilling out in cafes. Oh, and there was this guy playing an automatic little organ thing inside the Ljubljana castle, and I thought it was some traditional Slovenian song or something until I realized it was Fernando! Like from the 70s.
Anyway, the night we got here, we were hungry as it was late and hadn’t eaten yet, and we asked this guy who worked at our hostel where we should eat. He told us there were a couple bakeries around us, but they really just had donuts. But we could go to a few Kebap places if we wanted to, that were apparently 'very good.' Ordinarily, I’m so down for Kebap, but I just came from Bosnia, and that’s literally all I ate for like 6 days…so I was like fugh. So we walked around and we saw a McDonalds sign down the road and we were like ‘Ok we’re just gonna go there.’ Halfway there, who do we run into? The guy from our hostel, on his bike. He’s on break and was like ‘The bakery is back that way….’ And we sheepishly reply ‘….we’re going to McDonalds…’ and it turns out so was he. The food he recommended must have been great.
So anyway that was amusing, but last night we decided to get ingredients for sandwiches as we didn’t want to eat McDonalds again, or Kebap, or donuts, or to walk any further. So we went to a supermarket near our hostel to get stuff. I wanted to get grapes. I was confused though because there were two different kinds of grapes and you have to weigh it yourself and print out a label and everything, so this nice guy who worked the store helped me out. He also asked what a grapefruit was and thought it was really funny that a grape and grapefruit are so different. Anyway, that was a really nice encounter, especially because it ended with this:
NG: ‘Where are you from?’
J: The US
N: Really?
J: Yep!
N: That’s good. If you ever need any help, do not hesitate to ask. Anyone. We are very helpful in Slovenia. Welcome to our country.
Right? That couldn’t have gone any better. So anyway I take my grapes and meet my girls over by the breads. 2 minutes later, the nice guy is back. We then have an interaction along the lines of this:
NG: I am very proud of the United States.
J: Oh, wow, well thanks!
NG: I consider you my ally.
J: Ha, well, cool.
NG: You know why? Because of words on your dollar: In God We Trust.
J: Oh, well-
NG: You know why else? I have problem with the Mujahideens (sp?).
…*looks around*… All right. So this now went from being a really nice, friendly encounter to being somewhat frightening and really annoying. Because when he said the word Mujahideens (sp?), he gave me this really weird look, like, ‘You know what I mean. Enough said.’ Or something. And I got really comfortable, because I didn’t want to have a political discussion but I also didn’t want to totally just be like ‘Oh yeah I’m a Christian and I hate Arabs too and all Americans are the same and love Bush’, and I also didn’t want to be just blow him off…because now it was obvious he was here to talk. So he continued to say things like ‘I cannot be too loud though, as people won’t like what I say.” Uh, yeah. So after a few more seconds, he has to leave to go attend to some supermarket business. My friends and I are now trying to pick out the best kind of juice to drink. After a minute or so, he’s back. This time he’s holding a credit card. Apparently someone left their credit card, and he makes this joke about how he wants to give me the card, but can’t. ‘But I’m no criminal. I swear.’
Whatever. I’m so ready to get out of this place but the line for checkout is like 20 people long and we’re going nowhere fast. After awhile he’s back, and get this. This is what happens next:
NG: You know much about the building in Virginia?
J: Which building?
NG: The very important building where all the information is kept…
J: The Pentagon?
NG: No, I don’t think that’s in Virgina. You know,the building, with intelligence.
J: Oh, you mean the CIA?
NG: Yes! Yes. Who is the head of CIA?
J: Oh….um….I don’t know actually.
NG: You should read more books.
What? Really? You all know me well enough to understand why this is so ironic and hilarious. But still, really annoying. Whatever, I just want to get out of there. But he’s not done.
NG: You know what the only army is that is better than yours?
J: …….*shakes head with wide eyes and slight sigh*……
NG: The Israelis!
Oh god. I am NOT gonna do this here and now. In fact, I wouldn’t do this anywhere. I’m STILL way back in line and he’s trying to convince me about how much the Israelis have to fight for. I don’t even know what happened next but eventually I got out of there. Thank god.
And did you know that there are Aldis EVERYWHERE in Europe? I’ve never even seen one outside of Iowa, let alone outside the US. They’re never mentioned in movies or TV shows, so what is that? But anyway, I’ve seen one in Germany, and like 40 in Slovenia now…but in Slovenia, they have a different name: Hofer. There are Hofers EVERYWHERE. I know right?
- Josh A
Anyway, the night we got here, we were hungry as it was late and hadn’t eaten yet, and we asked this guy who worked at our hostel where we should eat. He told us there were a couple bakeries around us, but they really just had donuts. But we could go to a few Kebap places if we wanted to, that were apparently 'very good.' Ordinarily, I’m so down for Kebap, but I just came from Bosnia, and that’s literally all I ate for like 6 days…so I was like fugh. So we walked around and we saw a McDonalds sign down the road and we were like ‘Ok we’re just gonna go there.’ Halfway there, who do we run into? The guy from our hostel, on his bike. He’s on break and was like ‘The bakery is back that way….’ And we sheepishly reply ‘….we’re going to McDonalds…’ and it turns out so was he. The food he recommended must have been great.
So anyway that was amusing, but last night we decided to get ingredients for sandwiches as we didn’t want to eat McDonalds again, or Kebap, or donuts, or to walk any further. So we went to a supermarket near our hostel to get stuff. I wanted to get grapes. I was confused though because there were two different kinds of grapes and you have to weigh it yourself and print out a label and everything, so this nice guy who worked the store helped me out. He also asked what a grapefruit was and thought it was really funny that a grape and grapefruit are so different. Anyway, that was a really nice encounter, especially because it ended with this:
NG: ‘Where are you from?’
J: The US
N: Really?
J: Yep!
N: That’s good. If you ever need any help, do not hesitate to ask. Anyone. We are very helpful in Slovenia. Welcome to our country.
Right? That couldn’t have gone any better. So anyway I take my grapes and meet my girls over by the breads. 2 minutes later, the nice guy is back. We then have an interaction along the lines of this:
NG: I am very proud of the United States.
J: Oh, wow, well thanks!
NG: I consider you my ally.
J: Ha, well, cool.
NG: You know why? Because of words on your dollar: In God We Trust.
J: Oh, well-
NG: You know why else? I have problem with the Mujahideens (sp?).
…*looks around*… All right. So this now went from being a really nice, friendly encounter to being somewhat frightening and really annoying. Because when he said the word Mujahideens (sp?), he gave me this really weird look, like, ‘You know what I mean. Enough said.’ Or something. And I got really comfortable, because I didn’t want to have a political discussion but I also didn’t want to totally just be like ‘Oh yeah I’m a Christian and I hate Arabs too and all Americans are the same and love Bush’, and I also didn’t want to be just blow him off…because now it was obvious he was here to talk. So he continued to say things like ‘I cannot be too loud though, as people won’t like what I say.” Uh, yeah. So after a few more seconds, he has to leave to go attend to some supermarket business. My friends and I are now trying to pick out the best kind of juice to drink. After a minute or so, he’s back. This time he’s holding a credit card. Apparently someone left their credit card, and he makes this joke about how he wants to give me the card, but can’t. ‘But I’m no criminal. I swear.’
Whatever. I’m so ready to get out of this place but the line for checkout is like 20 people long and we’re going nowhere fast. After awhile he’s back, and get this. This is what happens next:
NG: You know much about the building in Virginia?
J: Which building?
NG: The very important building where all the information is kept…
J: The Pentagon?
NG: No, I don’t think that’s in Virgina. You know,the building, with intelligence.
J: Oh, you mean the CIA?
NG: Yes! Yes. Who is the head of CIA?
J: Oh….um….I don’t know actually.
NG: You should read more books.
What? Really? You all know me well enough to understand why this is so ironic and hilarious. But still, really annoying. Whatever, I just want to get out of there. But he’s not done.
NG: You know what the only army is that is better than yours?
J: …….*shakes head with wide eyes and slight sigh*……
NG: The Israelis!
Oh god. I am NOT gonna do this here and now. In fact, I wouldn’t do this anywhere. I’m STILL way back in line and he’s trying to convince me about how much the Israelis have to fight for. I don’t even know what happened next but eventually I got out of there. Thank god.
And did you know that there are Aldis EVERYWHERE in Europe? I’ve never even seen one outside of Iowa, let alone outside the US. They’re never mentioned in movies or TV shows, so what is that? But anyway, I’ve seen one in Germany, and like 40 in Slovenia now…but in Slovenia, they have a different name: Hofer. There are Hofers EVERYWHERE. I know right?
- Josh A
Friday, August 27, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Random Thought: 16
Hi again,
So in Banja Luka, I went to a museum of Contemporary Art. It was really great, and there was a temporary exhibit all about prostitution. It was so eye-opening, and also very relevant to my trip, as I’m going to be spending time in India working with prostitutes. There was this video shot from a really interesting perspective. Essentially, there’s this group in Italy that really wants to legalize prostitution, because the entire system in Italy is fucked up. This makes sense in the US too.
If you legalize prostitution, it empowers women. Not only can they be more in charge of their bodies, but you could regulate it and you could also diminish the power of pimps over these women. On top of all this, there was just this philosophical debate going on about the nature of prostitution. Some really great questions were raised in the video, such as “What gives men the right to think that they can buy women?” “What kind of work is prostitution? Is it a service? A family-job?” and perhaps the most interesting to me, “Why is it that prostitutes are grouped with criminals and other outcasts, but the men that pay them are usually seen in a more sympathetic light?”
I realized right away that this is so true. In the US, we often will think of the man as being lonely, or awkward, and you may tend to feel for him. For instance, there’s this episode of Dexter in season 1, where the victim of a serial killer is rescued, though his feet and hands have been cut off. A cop, feeling generous and sorry for this now amputee, allows him to have a night with a hooker as a sort of gift. I never forgot that episode because to me it was very striking…and now I can look at in a new, more important light.
If anything, we should feel more sympathetic to the women. So many women are coerced into prostitution (both in their native country or abroad) and really have no choice but to sell themselves. The Danes told me this story about these women in a documentary who were from Africa, and they were told to come to this event if they were interested in working in Europe. Upon arrival at the event, they were knocked out and fed drugs, and the next thing they know, they awake in Denmark and are forced to be prostitutes upon threat of death.
I wish I knew more about prostitution laws around the world.
Yours,
Josh A
So in Banja Luka, I went to a museum of Contemporary Art. It was really great, and there was a temporary exhibit all about prostitution. It was so eye-opening, and also very relevant to my trip, as I’m going to be spending time in India working with prostitutes. There was this video shot from a really interesting perspective. Essentially, there’s this group in Italy that really wants to legalize prostitution, because the entire system in Italy is fucked up. This makes sense in the US too.
If you legalize prostitution, it empowers women. Not only can they be more in charge of their bodies, but you could regulate it and you could also diminish the power of pimps over these women. On top of all this, there was just this philosophical debate going on about the nature of prostitution. Some really great questions were raised in the video, such as “What gives men the right to think that they can buy women?” “What kind of work is prostitution? Is it a service? A family-job?” and perhaps the most interesting to me, “Why is it that prostitutes are grouped with criminals and other outcasts, but the men that pay them are usually seen in a more sympathetic light?”
I realized right away that this is so true. In the US, we often will think of the man as being lonely, or awkward, and you may tend to feel for him. For instance, there’s this episode of Dexter in season 1, where the victim of a serial killer is rescued, though his feet and hands have been cut off. A cop, feeling generous and sorry for this now amputee, allows him to have a night with a hooker as a sort of gift. I never forgot that episode because to me it was very striking…and now I can look at in a new, more important light.
If anything, we should feel more sympathetic to the women. So many women are coerced into prostitution (both in their native country or abroad) and really have no choice but to sell themselves. The Danes told me this story about these women in a documentary who were from Africa, and they were told to come to this event if they were interested in working in Europe. Upon arrival at the event, they were knocked out and fed drugs, and the next thing they know, they awake in Denmark and are forced to be prostitutes upon threat of death.
I wish I knew more about prostitution laws around the world.
Yours,
Josh A
Random Thought: 15
Hi,
The following is a list of my favorite things so far about this trip.
1) Visiting Sarajevo during Ramaddan (sp?). It was so cool to see people lining up around 7:30 PM at all the bakeries and restaurants for food, only to then be scared shitless as the huge fireworks went off every night at sunset, signaling that everyone could now eat. I also enjoyed the call to prayer that sounded over loud speakers in every town, which was so loud and so eerie, yet beautiful. If you ever visit a muslim country, the first time you hear it will be a great experience.
2) Our hostel in Sarajevo was up an extremely large hill. Based on distance, it was actually a great location…but the incline of the hill and its length were literally enough to ruin your day and make you need a shower and a nap. I don’t even…whatever. So we were walking up it the first day in the city and after 15 minutes of uphill walking, we just stopped because we were so out of breath. I asked Kristina ‘Soo…what do you want to do?” she replied “I want to take a cab.” And literally 2 seconds later a cab drove by. We hailed it and it took us the 5 blocks to our hostel. It cost 3 Bosnian marks.
3) The Cuban music festival in Banja Luka. Yesterday we saw something with a huge mainstage being set up in the main square of BL. When we asked someone what was going on, they told us that at 9 tonight, there was going to be a huge Cuban music festival. We went and it was so great to experience something so lively and huge and crazy in Bosnia, and if you watch the videos I plan to upload to facebook, you’ll know what I mean. It’s just the last thing you’d expect when thinking about such a damaged, war-torn, supposedly ‘conservative’ country. There were probably 700 people dancing and drinking and having a great time and it reminded me of home.
4) When we arrived in Banja Luka, we wanted to eat somewhere. Our hostel owner told us about this great restaurant that was pretty far away. We had to ask these girls for directions, and they were very nice and walked us to the restaurant, and then we saw them again at the Cuban music festival! They were with this gay guy that looked like their best friend and it was cute because it also reminded me of home.
5) Learning so much about Autralia and Denmark through my friends. These Danes are crazy about their dark bread. And they had never had cornbread! They loved it and thought it was like a mix of bread and cake.
6) Learning how much people in Europe LOVE Michael Jackson. His songs are always on the radio, in every country. And my Danish friends also hold a strong affinity for him still.
7) Finding out that people from all over the world watch Grey’s Anatomy with as much verocity as I do…and apparently that Meredith gets better.
8) Postcards. I have discovered that I am a postcard FIEND. It’s honestly my favorite thing to do every single day. As soon as I arrive at a new destination, the first thing I do is buy a handful of postcards. I have sent at least 20 thus far, and I plan on sending many, many more. I don’t know exactly what it is, but I find writing the postcards to be very grounding and relaxing, and I find sending them to be so rewarding. I carried 7 around for 6 days, unable to find a post office and when I finally did, you’d think I had won the lottery.
9) Seeing the Virgin Mary at Medjugorje.
10) Meritt. I love Meritt. Enough said.
11) The fact that I again did not make it to Istanbul. This is both humbling and humorous, and above all I am proud of the fact that I adjusted.
12) I also love the fact that almost every backpacker and local I meet is ready to have some kind of intellectual or political discussion, and that they are all extremely well-educated about American issues, such as health care reform, immigration, gay rights & the war in Iraq. On the other hand, I could talk about Israel, Prostitution, development or the Roma with any of them too.
13) That going abroad has made me less sure about graduate program I want to go into.
14) Hanging out with Genevieve was really a lesson in independence. She is only 19 and literally just decided to take a year off of college to travel all over Europe for 5 months, and she didn’t care what anyone had to say. She went on her own, as a single female traveller, all over extremely less-traveled countries, where there are significant linguistic, cultural and bureaucratic barriers, and though she definitely had her ups and downs, she just dealt with it and took it all in stride.
15) I have more stamps in my passport!
16) Everyone told me and all the books said that Dubrovnik was way better than Split. So I spent more time there, but I liked Split much better and was even going to go back before tagging along with new friends. It felt like a realer place, much more lived-in and it was easier to get around, and the beach was great.
17) I loved that southern Germany felt just like northern Italy in many ways. I totally got to see the freakin Disneyland castle. Which, ps, is only like 5% completed, and that’s what you get to see. But it was nice.
The following is a list of the funniest interactions I’ve had with my Danish friends.
1) They asked if at American parties, people really drink out of red and blue plastic cups, because, seriously, in every movie ,people always drink out of those plastic cups. They bought some actually for breakfast one morning and when they saw me went ‘Whooo Paaaartaay!”
2) I asked if either of them had tweezers I could borrow, and they had never heard this word before, and first they assumed I said ‘freezers.’ As in, ‘Do the people of Denmark have freezers?” and then they thought I asked if they had ‘Breezers’, as in a kind of malt beverage. We laughed a lot.
3) When talking about women’s health care issues, I informed them about Planned Parenthood and free clinics. They didn’t know what PP was, but that night we watched Mean Girls, and Planned Parenthood was mentioned
4) Sometimes when they ask me what a word in English is, I’ll make something up. I tried telling them that a towel was an ‘up-dick’, but they didn’t believe me. I think they already knew what a towel is.
5) Hearing them attempt southern accents…which is like, one of their favorite things to do. I told them it’s just as funny in the US. Unless you’re from the great country of Texas. They always talk about getting a on a horse and their speed of speech increases tenfold.
6) Hearing what they think the words are to certain songs…Believe, Pokerface & Ms. Jackson were highlights. Example: I’m Sorry Ms Jackson (ooh ooh ooh ooh), I am for real. Never meant to make a dolphin cry, I apologize a trillion times.
Ok, miss you guys,
Josh A.
The following is a list of my favorite things so far about this trip.
1) Visiting Sarajevo during Ramaddan (sp?). It was so cool to see people lining up around 7:30 PM at all the bakeries and restaurants for food, only to then be scared shitless as the huge fireworks went off every night at sunset, signaling that everyone could now eat. I also enjoyed the call to prayer that sounded over loud speakers in every town, which was so loud and so eerie, yet beautiful. If you ever visit a muslim country, the first time you hear it will be a great experience.
2) Our hostel in Sarajevo was up an extremely large hill. Based on distance, it was actually a great location…but the incline of the hill and its length were literally enough to ruin your day and make you need a shower and a nap. I don’t even…whatever. So we were walking up it the first day in the city and after 15 minutes of uphill walking, we just stopped because we were so out of breath. I asked Kristina ‘Soo…what do you want to do?” she replied “I want to take a cab.” And literally 2 seconds later a cab drove by. We hailed it and it took us the 5 blocks to our hostel. It cost 3 Bosnian marks.
3) The Cuban music festival in Banja Luka. Yesterday we saw something with a huge mainstage being set up in the main square of BL. When we asked someone what was going on, they told us that at 9 tonight, there was going to be a huge Cuban music festival. We went and it was so great to experience something so lively and huge and crazy in Bosnia, and if you watch the videos I plan to upload to facebook, you’ll know what I mean. It’s just the last thing you’d expect when thinking about such a damaged, war-torn, supposedly ‘conservative’ country. There were probably 700 people dancing and drinking and having a great time and it reminded me of home.
4) When we arrived in Banja Luka, we wanted to eat somewhere. Our hostel owner told us about this great restaurant that was pretty far away. We had to ask these girls for directions, and they were very nice and walked us to the restaurant, and then we saw them again at the Cuban music festival! They were with this gay guy that looked like their best friend and it was cute because it also reminded me of home.
5) Learning so much about Autralia and Denmark through my friends. These Danes are crazy about their dark bread. And they had never had cornbread! They loved it and thought it was like a mix of bread and cake.
6) Learning how much people in Europe LOVE Michael Jackson. His songs are always on the radio, in every country. And my Danish friends also hold a strong affinity for him still.
7) Finding out that people from all over the world watch Grey’s Anatomy with as much verocity as I do…and apparently that Meredith gets better.
8) Postcards. I have discovered that I am a postcard FIEND. It’s honestly my favorite thing to do every single day. As soon as I arrive at a new destination, the first thing I do is buy a handful of postcards. I have sent at least 20 thus far, and I plan on sending many, many more. I don’t know exactly what it is, but I find writing the postcards to be very grounding and relaxing, and I find sending them to be so rewarding. I carried 7 around for 6 days, unable to find a post office and when I finally did, you’d think I had won the lottery.
9) Seeing the Virgin Mary at Medjugorje.
10) Meritt. I love Meritt. Enough said.
11) The fact that I again did not make it to Istanbul. This is both humbling and humorous, and above all I am proud of the fact that I adjusted.
12) I also love the fact that almost every backpacker and local I meet is ready to have some kind of intellectual or political discussion, and that they are all extremely well-educated about American issues, such as health care reform, immigration, gay rights & the war in Iraq. On the other hand, I could talk about Israel, Prostitution, development or the Roma with any of them too.
13) That going abroad has made me less sure about graduate program I want to go into.
14) Hanging out with Genevieve was really a lesson in independence. She is only 19 and literally just decided to take a year off of college to travel all over Europe for 5 months, and she didn’t care what anyone had to say. She went on her own, as a single female traveller, all over extremely less-traveled countries, where there are significant linguistic, cultural and bureaucratic barriers, and though she definitely had her ups and downs, she just dealt with it and took it all in stride.
15) I have more stamps in my passport!
16) Everyone told me and all the books said that Dubrovnik was way better than Split. So I spent more time there, but I liked Split much better and was even going to go back before tagging along with new friends. It felt like a realer place, much more lived-in and it was easier to get around, and the beach was great.
17) I loved that southern Germany felt just like northern Italy in many ways. I totally got to see the freakin Disneyland castle. Which, ps, is only like 5% completed, and that’s what you get to see. But it was nice.
The following is a list of the funniest interactions I’ve had with my Danish friends.
1) They asked if at American parties, people really drink out of red and blue plastic cups, because, seriously, in every movie ,people always drink out of those plastic cups. They bought some actually for breakfast one morning and when they saw me went ‘Whooo Paaaartaay!”
2) I asked if either of them had tweezers I could borrow, and they had never heard this word before, and first they assumed I said ‘freezers.’ As in, ‘Do the people of Denmark have freezers?” and then they thought I asked if they had ‘Breezers’, as in a kind of malt beverage. We laughed a lot.
3) When talking about women’s health care issues, I informed them about Planned Parenthood and free clinics. They didn’t know what PP was, but that night we watched Mean Girls, and Planned Parenthood was mentioned
4) Sometimes when they ask me what a word in English is, I’ll make something up. I tried telling them that a towel was an ‘up-dick’, but they didn’t believe me. I think they already knew what a towel is.
5) Hearing them attempt southern accents…which is like, one of their favorite things to do. I told them it’s just as funny in the US. Unless you’re from the great country of Texas. They always talk about getting a on a horse and their speed of speech increases tenfold.
6) Hearing what they think the words are to certain songs…Believe, Pokerface & Ms. Jackson were highlights. Example: I’m Sorry Ms Jackson (ooh ooh ooh ooh), I am for real. Never meant to make a dolphin cry, I apologize a trillion times.
Ok, miss you guys,
Josh A.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Random Thought: 14
So,
Upon leaving Mostar, I was travelling with 3 newfound friends; two girls from Denmark, named Kristina and Emilie, and then another girl from Australia, named Genevieve. Kristina and Emilie were on my (extremely hot) bus to Mostar, and they needed a hostel, so I showed them to mine. Genevieve was my roommate at said hostel. We all went to dinner together and had a great time (and I was introduced to this AWESOME Balkan sauce that goes on everything that’s orange and kind of tastes like olives and jalapenos), so we decided to sight-see some more the next day. We did so, and the day after that we traveled onto Sarajevo together.
The Danes are more of go-with-the-flow type travellers, so they didn’t have a hostel booked in Sarajevo either. We booked a place together for 3 dorm bed. Genevieve already had one booked, so upon arrival in the capital, we went our separate ways and decided to meet up again in the morning to sight-see. So the next morning we meet at this place called Pigeon Square. Interesting name, you might say. It literally was the home of hundreds of pigeons…and one even took a shit on Genevieve’s shoulder. But for some reason we always returned to meet there.
This particular morning, Genevieve had brought some friends. She had met Virginie, a French girl from her hostel, and this Turkish guy named Mohammad who was half Muslim and half Christian and “believed in everything.” Whatever, the more the merrier. Anyway, we all decide the first place we should go is the Tunnel museum. The tunnel museum is this museum located on the remnants of the tunnel that was built during the siege of Sarajevo to get access to the outside. People brought in water and food and stuff through it, and naturally it was on the outskirts of town. In all the travel books, it’s listed as a must-see. So we’re like, all right let’s do it!
According to the books, you have to take the tram for 30 minutes out to the farthest edge of actual Sarajevo, then get on bus 68A, which takes you to this suburb, and from the suburb, you walk to the museum. All right. This already sounds fucking ridiculous. Where do we get off the bus in this suburb? Where in the suburb is the museum? Are we walking within the suburb or outside the suburb? Why are there at least 68 bus routes? None of these questions have answers.
So we start to tram it up, and things are going well. We get to this huge bus depot at the end of the line, and it’s like sweet, where’s bus 68A? We look and look and look and wait and wait, and even though busses 27, 32, 8, and other non-numerical busses came by, there was no 68A. So Mohammad just takes charge. He’s like, ‘I go find out. It ok. I speak with man, I come back tell you, we go. It ok!’ Virginie follows him. Once they leave, Genevieve informs us that he’s actually a NATO serviceman, on leave, and he wasn’t at their hostel. So I’m like ‘So how does Virginie know him?’ and she replies ‘I don’t really know, I kept asking and couldn’t get it out of her…apparently she was walking around and just had a drink with him…I was like ‘ok no one does that but fine.’’ So they’ve been gone awhile and Genevieve goes to a nearby café, and finds out that bus 68A doesn’t exist anymore and we just have to wait for a bus with the name of the suburb on it. 10 minutes later the Turkish guy comes back and informs of the same information. By now, it was clear that he was an army guy, because he was all about taking charge and leading us around. It was like ‘We go over there, sit, wait for new bus. It fine, I speak with man.”
So the bus finally comes, but then it just sits there for 15 minutes before it opens its doors. We all eventually get on and there are actually quite a few other tourists on board, so we’re thinking, great, we’re on the right track. Since none of us know when to get off, we decide to just follow the crowd. By the time we get to the end of the line, it’s obvious that all the other tourists had the same plan. In fact, when we get up, we see about 7 other tourists also get up five seconds after us. So it’s like, ok fuck.
We hop off the bus, and we’re in the middle of nowhere. We just start walking and at this point I’m just cracking up. I mean, this is like the funniest shit ever, we are just walking around the Bosnian countryside (this is hardly a suburb) with no clue as to where to go. Luckily we saw a sign or something, I don’t remember, but we end up at the tunnel.
Aside from the pictures and autographs of Richard Gere and Orlando Bloom, it was very moving. The tunnel itself is only 1 meter wide and like 1.6 meters tall. So, you couldn’t walk through it without hunching over (which we were able to do) and we watched this video that someone had compiled about the war, seeing actual buildings that we recognized amid the bombing. All in all, the whole visit to the tunnel and museum (aka 2-roomed building with artifacts) took about 30-45 minutes. Compared to the 2 hours it took just to get there.
Then we realize that we literally have no idea how to get back. First of all, somewhere along the line someone had pointed out that it was Sunday. And it’s in the middle of Ramadan…so things are just in slow motion all over the city. We also realize that it had taken so long for a bus to come before that we had no idea when the next would come all the way out here. So we ask this guy at the tunnel what the easiest way back is.
Me: Hi, what’s the best way back to Sarajevo?
Grumpy Guy: Well how’d you get here?
Me: We took the bus.
Grumpy Guy: Then take the bus.
Thanks. So we start walking back to the bus, and halfway there, we see another bus stop. There are some other tourists waiting there, so we’re like ‘all right, let’s go sit by them.” They inform us that they had been waiting 30 minutes already, and had been dropped off there earlier. We take a closer look at the sign indicating it was a bus stop, and though it looks like a Bus 31 is coming….it also looks like it may have been crossed out.
Great. So we’re like ‘well, we’re all here, and it’s only like 2 PM, so let’s just chill here for awhile. If it doesn’t come, we’ll find the other bus stop again.” So after like 10 more minutes of being super cute and sharing all the food and gum in our packs and stuff, I start talking with the Turkish guy. Apparently, he lives right down the street from us in these NATO army barracks. Like, I can see it from where we’re sitting. So it’s like
J: So do you know this area pretty well then?
TG: Yes! I live down street, in Army barracks, I talk with people, I know all this, very well.
J: Do you know if a bus is coming?
TG: No.
Eventually, he figures out that if anyone should do something about this, it should be him. Like, come on, please use your overbearing attitude and leadership abilities now that it’s actually useful! So he walks the half a block to his barracks find out when the bus comes. Apparently it comes every hour and fifteen minutes. That essentially means nothing to us. Then we get into this big discussion about whether or not to call a cab.
After like 5 minutes of this and 2 minutes of the Turkish guy claiming that he can totally talk with the cab to get us a good fare and make sure it’s safe and get us on our way and we’ll be just fine, a cab just comes right along. We’re like I don’t even care if it’s a Nazi, let’s get in. The turkish guy takes it upon himself to talk the shit out of the driver and get us a fair of 20 marks…he seems pretty proud of himself, but 20 marks is pretty much exactly what I’d expect to pay for someone to drive me into and across a city of 700,000 people. The Turkish really wants to make sure this is ok with us, and at this point, we’d be willing to pay 50 euros to get back to town so we barely even say ‘yeah it’s fine’ before hopping in.
I feel bad leaving Virginie though, because she’s slightly awkward and is now stuck with this guy that she doesn’t even remember meeting…so I ask them both if they want to meet us at Pigeon Square for lunch. Like, they could just hop on the next cab, and we’ll be waiting. Viriginie gives me a grateful smile and it’s all nice.
So as soon as we get in the cab and it takes off, we see the bus come. Yeah. It’s really no biggie to us by now, b/c we didn’t feel like sitting on public transit for an hour in the heat and 20 marks is literally 10 bucks, divided by 4 people. But we soon realize that we’re gonna have to wait for Virginie and the Turkish guy FOREVER if they take that bus. Hell, we didn’t even know what bus it was. For all we know, it’s a fucking long distance bus picking people up to go to Kosovo! And though the Turkish guy was really proud of his linguistic abilities, something told me he didn’t really have as strong of a hold on Bosnian as he professed. He didn’t even know if the fucking bus comes to his house!
So we’re back at Pigeon Square and we face this dilemma. It’s like, ok they’re both kind of weird, but we can’t just blow them off. And honestly, I’ve been Virginie so many fucking times. Like, she just wants to meet some people to hang out with and she’s kind of shy and on top of that, she’s in a foreign country alone and nervous and everything. On the other hand, we are all so starving, we can’t just not eat, knowing that we may very well never see them again. So, we decide to just eat in a café in Pigeon Square and keep an eye out for them.
Luckily, this works out and like an hour later they show up. We, of course, are done eating. And all any of us want to do is just get out of the heat and go sleep, so after 10 minutes of silence it’s like ‘so…..you guys want to meet again like at 7 and get some supper?’ The Turkish Guy’s attention is elsewhere and Virginie seems happy just to be invited, so it’s like sweet. We all head back to our hostels to sleep.
At 7:00, the lady Danes and I find ourselves at Pigeon Square, and see Genevieve right away, alone. We ask ‘so where’s the Turkish guy?’ and without missing a beat she replies ‘I dunno, he’s kind of weird.’ Apparently he just walked off and she wasn’t sure if he understood that we were all meeting again. We ask about Virginie, and apparently she had been asleep for about 3 hours back at the hostel and there was no waking her.
Ugh. Virginie! I mean, I know you’re probably tired but if you want to make friends, you’ve gotta get with it! You can’t just sleep all day with no alarm clock. I wanted to include her but she had to meet me halfway. Right on the borderline is where I’m gonna stay. I never saw Virginie again, but the four of us had a great time in Sarajevo. Sadly, I had to say goodbye to Genevieve last night as we went our separate ways, and we exchanged big hugs all around…but now I’m on the way to Banja Luka, capital of the Serbian Republic with Kristina and Emilie, and I’m pretty damn excited. Next up: Slovenia!
Upon leaving Mostar, I was travelling with 3 newfound friends; two girls from Denmark, named Kristina and Emilie, and then another girl from Australia, named Genevieve. Kristina and Emilie were on my (extremely hot) bus to Mostar, and they needed a hostel, so I showed them to mine. Genevieve was my roommate at said hostel. We all went to dinner together and had a great time (and I was introduced to this AWESOME Balkan sauce that goes on everything that’s orange and kind of tastes like olives and jalapenos), so we decided to sight-see some more the next day. We did so, and the day after that we traveled onto Sarajevo together.
The Danes are more of go-with-the-flow type travellers, so they didn’t have a hostel booked in Sarajevo either. We booked a place together for 3 dorm bed. Genevieve already had one booked, so upon arrival in the capital, we went our separate ways and decided to meet up again in the morning to sight-see. So the next morning we meet at this place called Pigeon Square. Interesting name, you might say. It literally was the home of hundreds of pigeons…and one even took a shit on Genevieve’s shoulder. But for some reason we always returned to meet there.
This particular morning, Genevieve had brought some friends. She had met Virginie, a French girl from her hostel, and this Turkish guy named Mohammad who was half Muslim and half Christian and “believed in everything.” Whatever, the more the merrier. Anyway, we all decide the first place we should go is the Tunnel museum. The tunnel museum is this museum located on the remnants of the tunnel that was built during the siege of Sarajevo to get access to the outside. People brought in water and food and stuff through it, and naturally it was on the outskirts of town. In all the travel books, it’s listed as a must-see. So we’re like, all right let’s do it!
According to the books, you have to take the tram for 30 minutes out to the farthest edge of actual Sarajevo, then get on bus 68A, which takes you to this suburb, and from the suburb, you walk to the museum. All right. This already sounds fucking ridiculous. Where do we get off the bus in this suburb? Where in the suburb is the museum? Are we walking within the suburb or outside the suburb? Why are there at least 68 bus routes? None of these questions have answers.
So we start to tram it up, and things are going well. We get to this huge bus depot at the end of the line, and it’s like sweet, where’s bus 68A? We look and look and look and wait and wait, and even though busses 27, 32, 8, and other non-numerical busses came by, there was no 68A. So Mohammad just takes charge. He’s like, ‘I go find out. It ok. I speak with man, I come back tell you, we go. It ok!’ Virginie follows him. Once they leave, Genevieve informs us that he’s actually a NATO serviceman, on leave, and he wasn’t at their hostel. So I’m like ‘So how does Virginie know him?’ and she replies ‘I don’t really know, I kept asking and couldn’t get it out of her…apparently she was walking around and just had a drink with him…I was like ‘ok no one does that but fine.’’ So they’ve been gone awhile and Genevieve goes to a nearby café, and finds out that bus 68A doesn’t exist anymore and we just have to wait for a bus with the name of the suburb on it. 10 minutes later the Turkish guy comes back and informs of the same information. By now, it was clear that he was an army guy, because he was all about taking charge and leading us around. It was like ‘We go over there, sit, wait for new bus. It fine, I speak with man.”
So the bus finally comes, but then it just sits there for 15 minutes before it opens its doors. We all eventually get on and there are actually quite a few other tourists on board, so we’re thinking, great, we’re on the right track. Since none of us know when to get off, we decide to just follow the crowd. By the time we get to the end of the line, it’s obvious that all the other tourists had the same plan. In fact, when we get up, we see about 7 other tourists also get up five seconds after us. So it’s like, ok fuck.
We hop off the bus, and we’re in the middle of nowhere. We just start walking and at this point I’m just cracking up. I mean, this is like the funniest shit ever, we are just walking around the Bosnian countryside (this is hardly a suburb) with no clue as to where to go. Luckily we saw a sign or something, I don’t remember, but we end up at the tunnel.
Aside from the pictures and autographs of Richard Gere and Orlando Bloom, it was very moving. The tunnel itself is only 1 meter wide and like 1.6 meters tall. So, you couldn’t walk through it without hunching over (which we were able to do) and we watched this video that someone had compiled about the war, seeing actual buildings that we recognized amid the bombing. All in all, the whole visit to the tunnel and museum (aka 2-roomed building with artifacts) took about 30-45 minutes. Compared to the 2 hours it took just to get there.
Then we realize that we literally have no idea how to get back. First of all, somewhere along the line someone had pointed out that it was Sunday. And it’s in the middle of Ramadan…so things are just in slow motion all over the city. We also realize that it had taken so long for a bus to come before that we had no idea when the next would come all the way out here. So we ask this guy at the tunnel what the easiest way back is.
Me: Hi, what’s the best way back to Sarajevo?
Grumpy Guy: Well how’d you get here?
Me: We took the bus.
Grumpy Guy: Then take the bus.
Thanks. So we start walking back to the bus, and halfway there, we see another bus stop. There are some other tourists waiting there, so we’re like ‘all right, let’s go sit by them.” They inform us that they had been waiting 30 minutes already, and had been dropped off there earlier. We take a closer look at the sign indicating it was a bus stop, and though it looks like a Bus 31 is coming….it also looks like it may have been crossed out.
Great. So we’re like ‘well, we’re all here, and it’s only like 2 PM, so let’s just chill here for awhile. If it doesn’t come, we’ll find the other bus stop again.” So after like 10 more minutes of being super cute and sharing all the food and gum in our packs and stuff, I start talking with the Turkish guy. Apparently, he lives right down the street from us in these NATO army barracks. Like, I can see it from where we’re sitting. So it’s like
J: So do you know this area pretty well then?
TG: Yes! I live down street, in Army barracks, I talk with people, I know all this, very well.
J: Do you know if a bus is coming?
TG: No.
Eventually, he figures out that if anyone should do something about this, it should be him. Like, come on, please use your overbearing attitude and leadership abilities now that it’s actually useful! So he walks the half a block to his barracks find out when the bus comes. Apparently it comes every hour and fifteen minutes. That essentially means nothing to us. Then we get into this big discussion about whether or not to call a cab.
After like 5 minutes of this and 2 minutes of the Turkish guy claiming that he can totally talk with the cab to get us a good fare and make sure it’s safe and get us on our way and we’ll be just fine, a cab just comes right along. We’re like I don’t even care if it’s a Nazi, let’s get in. The turkish guy takes it upon himself to talk the shit out of the driver and get us a fair of 20 marks…he seems pretty proud of himself, but 20 marks is pretty much exactly what I’d expect to pay for someone to drive me into and across a city of 700,000 people. The Turkish really wants to make sure this is ok with us, and at this point, we’d be willing to pay 50 euros to get back to town so we barely even say ‘yeah it’s fine’ before hopping in.
I feel bad leaving Virginie though, because she’s slightly awkward and is now stuck with this guy that she doesn’t even remember meeting…so I ask them both if they want to meet us at Pigeon Square for lunch. Like, they could just hop on the next cab, and we’ll be waiting. Viriginie gives me a grateful smile and it’s all nice.
So as soon as we get in the cab and it takes off, we see the bus come. Yeah. It’s really no biggie to us by now, b/c we didn’t feel like sitting on public transit for an hour in the heat and 20 marks is literally 10 bucks, divided by 4 people. But we soon realize that we’re gonna have to wait for Virginie and the Turkish guy FOREVER if they take that bus. Hell, we didn’t even know what bus it was. For all we know, it’s a fucking long distance bus picking people up to go to Kosovo! And though the Turkish guy was really proud of his linguistic abilities, something told me he didn’t really have as strong of a hold on Bosnian as he professed. He didn’t even know if the fucking bus comes to his house!
So we’re back at Pigeon Square and we face this dilemma. It’s like, ok they’re both kind of weird, but we can’t just blow them off. And honestly, I’ve been Virginie so many fucking times. Like, she just wants to meet some people to hang out with and she’s kind of shy and on top of that, she’s in a foreign country alone and nervous and everything. On the other hand, we are all so starving, we can’t just not eat, knowing that we may very well never see them again. So, we decide to just eat in a café in Pigeon Square and keep an eye out for them.
Luckily, this works out and like an hour later they show up. We, of course, are done eating. And all any of us want to do is just get out of the heat and go sleep, so after 10 minutes of silence it’s like ‘so…..you guys want to meet again like at 7 and get some supper?’ The Turkish Guy’s attention is elsewhere and Virginie seems happy just to be invited, so it’s like sweet. We all head back to our hostels to sleep.
At 7:00, the lady Danes and I find ourselves at Pigeon Square, and see Genevieve right away, alone. We ask ‘so where’s the Turkish guy?’ and without missing a beat she replies ‘I dunno, he’s kind of weird.’ Apparently he just walked off and she wasn’t sure if he understood that we were all meeting again. We ask about Virginie, and apparently she had been asleep for about 3 hours back at the hostel and there was no waking her.
Ugh. Virginie! I mean, I know you’re probably tired but if you want to make friends, you’ve gotta get with it! You can’t just sleep all day with no alarm clock. I wanted to include her but she had to meet me halfway. Right on the borderline is where I’m gonna stay. I never saw Virginie again, but the four of us had a great time in Sarajevo. Sadly, I had to say goodbye to Genevieve last night as we went our separate ways, and we exchanged big hugs all around…but now I’m on the way to Banja Luka, capital of the Serbian Republic with Kristina and Emilie, and I’m pretty damn excited. Next up: Slovenia!
Random Thought: 13
Hello all,
It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? I’ve noticed that I have begun to update less and less. I’m sure this will only be the case for my time in Europe though, so please don’t stray. Today is day 15 of my trip, which means I’m essentially 50% done with my European adventure. While this is actually quite sad, because as always, there is just so much I want to see, it’s also in many ways very nice. I have made it halfway safe and sound, without any major glitches, and starting tomorrow, I have only 2 weeks to go before arriving in India. Sort of. I’m here for a month, which is actually 31 days, but the last day doesn’t’ count b/c I’m flying out, etc, you get what I’m saying.
I can’t put into words just how much I’ve been surprised by and enjoyed Bosnia. It’s a pleasant place, with so many hidden gems to be found all over. But, I am excited to be moving on soon. In two days, actually, I’ll be on a train to Slovenia, which is a country I’ve wanted to visit for over 2 years now, and I’m definitely ready to go west for awhile. I’ll be on my own after my time in Ljubjana with the Danish girls, and that’ll be nice. I can’t get over how everything has just worked out so perfectly on this trip thus far. For instance, the fact that I happened to meet three really fun and nice other travellers as soon I arrived in Bosnia.
Even if I don’t meet any other cool backpackers throughout my European adventure, I’ll be very thankful for these friends. For lack of a better word, Bosnia was very jarring at first. The scars of the very recent war have not healed and after being on my own for so long, I think I would have found a solo journey through Bosnia to be almost depressing. However, joining these girls really changed what would have been a perhaps depressing 2 nights in Mostar to an uplifting week-long journey throughout the entire country. It’s been absolutely wonderful to witness this country recovering, rebuilding, opening their homes and minds to us. Furthermore, it feels good to know that I’m actually learning, and this is more than just a vacation.
For instance, yesterday we visited a Bosnian History Museum and learned so much about the war. It was so strange to not only see COLOR pictures of death and destruction, but to also watch videos where you can hear bullets whirring by, explosions in the background, and read about Bill Clinton’s actions. It’s very much like watching footage of September 11th. After all, the war preceded 9/11 by roughly only a decade. Can you imagine, if the government of your state declared independence from the US, and then you had to spend the next 3 years constantly facing the threat of death? Unable to walk outside without fear of being shot by a sniper, seeing the familiar buildings and skyscrapers of your capital blown up, running out of food, gas, electricity and water, and not having the ability to leave?
Granted, Bosnia wasn’t exactly the richest country in the world at the time, but it was still a European country with many a western outlook, and those who lived in the capital definitely had access to television, cars, etc. In other words, it wasn’t that different from the US or Canada at the time. Croatia, for example, was as big of a tourist destination as it is today before the war, and then Serbian forces attacked and just completely ruined their economy by attempting to get rid of their biggest draw, the beautiful coasts and cities. It has also been interesting to see the different trajectories of countries since the war, as you can barely see any signs of conflict in Croatia.
This is another reason I’m so excited to see Slovenia! While before, I really only wanted to visit in order to see the beautiful countryside and pristine capital, now I have this whole different perspective, and I can understand its position today as another part of the former Yugoslavia, with its own unique trajectory and story.
I LOVE EUROPE.
One ironic thing about this trip is that I initially thought I’d be learning mostly about WWII. I planned on going to Poland (can’t now….), and then I planned on going back to Germany for awhile, etc etc. but if anything I’ve learned more about WWI (like yesterday I visited where Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assinated), and of course the Yugoslavian war.
I’ve decided I’ll need at least 5 more trips to Europe before I’m completely satisfied. One for Scandinavia, one for the British Isles, one for the rest of Western Europe I haven’t seen (Spain, Portugal, the rest of France/Germany), one for the former Soviet Union (namely Russia, Ukraine, Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia) and one for the south (including Bulgaria, Turkey and Romania).
So, in other words, who wants to come back to Europe with me for 5 more months?
All right, love you all,
Josh A
It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? I’ve noticed that I have begun to update less and less. I’m sure this will only be the case for my time in Europe though, so please don’t stray. Today is day 15 of my trip, which means I’m essentially 50% done with my European adventure. While this is actually quite sad, because as always, there is just so much I want to see, it’s also in many ways very nice. I have made it halfway safe and sound, without any major glitches, and starting tomorrow, I have only 2 weeks to go before arriving in India. Sort of. I’m here for a month, which is actually 31 days, but the last day doesn’t’ count b/c I’m flying out, etc, you get what I’m saying.
I can’t put into words just how much I’ve been surprised by and enjoyed Bosnia. It’s a pleasant place, with so many hidden gems to be found all over. But, I am excited to be moving on soon. In two days, actually, I’ll be on a train to Slovenia, which is a country I’ve wanted to visit for over 2 years now, and I’m definitely ready to go west for awhile. I’ll be on my own after my time in Ljubjana with the Danish girls, and that’ll be nice. I can’t get over how everything has just worked out so perfectly on this trip thus far. For instance, the fact that I happened to meet three really fun and nice other travellers as soon I arrived in Bosnia.
Even if I don’t meet any other cool backpackers throughout my European adventure, I’ll be very thankful for these friends. For lack of a better word, Bosnia was very jarring at first. The scars of the very recent war have not healed and after being on my own for so long, I think I would have found a solo journey through Bosnia to be almost depressing. However, joining these girls really changed what would have been a perhaps depressing 2 nights in Mostar to an uplifting week-long journey throughout the entire country. It’s been absolutely wonderful to witness this country recovering, rebuilding, opening their homes and minds to us. Furthermore, it feels good to know that I’m actually learning, and this is more than just a vacation.
For instance, yesterday we visited a Bosnian History Museum and learned so much about the war. It was so strange to not only see COLOR pictures of death and destruction, but to also watch videos where you can hear bullets whirring by, explosions in the background, and read about Bill Clinton’s actions. It’s very much like watching footage of September 11th. After all, the war preceded 9/11 by roughly only a decade. Can you imagine, if the government of your state declared independence from the US, and then you had to spend the next 3 years constantly facing the threat of death? Unable to walk outside without fear of being shot by a sniper, seeing the familiar buildings and skyscrapers of your capital blown up, running out of food, gas, electricity and water, and not having the ability to leave?
Granted, Bosnia wasn’t exactly the richest country in the world at the time, but it was still a European country with many a western outlook, and those who lived in the capital definitely had access to television, cars, etc. In other words, it wasn’t that different from the US or Canada at the time. Croatia, for example, was as big of a tourist destination as it is today before the war, and then Serbian forces attacked and just completely ruined their economy by attempting to get rid of their biggest draw, the beautiful coasts and cities. It has also been interesting to see the different trajectories of countries since the war, as you can barely see any signs of conflict in Croatia.
This is another reason I’m so excited to see Slovenia! While before, I really only wanted to visit in order to see the beautiful countryside and pristine capital, now I have this whole different perspective, and I can understand its position today as another part of the former Yugoslavia, with its own unique trajectory and story.
I LOVE EUROPE.
One ironic thing about this trip is that I initially thought I’d be learning mostly about WWII. I planned on going to Poland (can’t now….), and then I planned on going back to Germany for awhile, etc etc. but if anything I’ve learned more about WWI (like yesterday I visited where Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assinated), and of course the Yugoslavian war.
I’ve decided I’ll need at least 5 more trips to Europe before I’m completely satisfied. One for Scandinavia, one for the British Isles, one for the rest of Western Europe I haven’t seen (Spain, Portugal, the rest of France/Germany), one for the former Soviet Union (namely Russia, Ukraine, Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia) and one for the south (including Bulgaria, Turkey and Romania).
So, in other words, who wants to come back to Europe with me for 5 more months?
All right, love you all,
Josh A
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Random Thought: 12
So,
Is it pathetic that every night before I retire I must watch another episode of Grey’s Anatomy? I don’t know what it is about this show that has catapulted it to favorite-things status, but I can’t get enough. Even when really great characters make bad decisions, I need to see more, in hopes that they rectify themselves. If anything, a year from now it should be interesting to see how I view the Anatomy, as it should have a fairly high level of nostalgia for southern Europe.
So anyway, yesterday may have just been the single best day of my time in Europe so far. I have met a few girls whom I spent my time with in Mostar, and we actually booked a ‘tour’ through our hostel, though we don’t know where it goes. It’s just around, to places you can’t really get by public transport, apparently. I put tour in quotations because, as my friend Genevieve put it, it was more of a glorified taxi ride. But I’ll get to that later. Genevieve is Australian, and she has been backpacking across EASTERN EASTERN Europe for 2 months now, and is on her way to Spain soon for 3 more. I could sum up her time so far as being everything I am so excited to do someday and everything I’m terrified of happening to me someday all rolled into one trip. For instance, she started out her trip in RUSSIA. ALONE. She got there, lost her immigration card (which is like losing your passport in Russia), and had to spend a whole day fixing that mess, which could totally be its own blog entry, so I’m gonna leave it at that. She then went to Ukraine, and spent a whole day wandering around the Ukrainian countryside, lost and unable to communicate with anyone. She couldn’t even call her hostel because there was a POWER OUTAGE in that city, and then she had to call up her friend who speaks Russian and just walk up to random strangers and give them the phone in hopes that her friend would explain her situation that they’d take pity on her and help her out. I know. I would have called my mom, told her to book me a one-way flight home and I would have been home by now, out of tears to cry.
Anyway, she’s way fun. As I said, she’s spending 3 months in Spain on this sweet deal where she lives in this family’s home for free, in exchange for 10 hours of English lessons a week for their son. I know right?! Then I also met Kristina and Emily (probably not spelled right), 2 Danish students backpacking around the Former Yugoslavia for about a month. I’m literally fascinated with everything about Denmark now and I’m totally going to go there someday. Weirdly, Kristina is coming to the US for a road trip in February, driving from San Francisco to New York, and driving thru Iowa on i80. That means she’s passing Iowa City AND Tipton! So I told her she could stay with me. Anyway, they’re so informed, it’s ridiculous. They know all about health care reform, and immigration, and they’re also in Iraq! They said they often forget they’re a nation at war. Anyway, apparently ALL television in Denmark is American, and after asking them what shows they like….guess what we have in common?
Yeah, they’re huge Grey’s fans. However, sadly, they’re also Meredith fans. But they told me to stick with it, and that I’ll like her more…and they also admitted that she was quite pathetic in the early seasons. And they don’t like Private Practice…which is sad, because I hope I do. But everyone says it sucks. So anyway, they said the best part about Grey’s is that now they know all this medical terminology in English, and they proceeded to do all these little impressions of doctors in an American ER. It’s fun.
So anyway we’re on this “tour.” This Bosnian man (who never introduced himself, but was friendly enough) picked us up from the hostel and took us first to a couple of towns that were somewhat ancient, but are now in ruins. Some are in ruins simply because of time, some because of bombings, some both. This was fun enough and usually would have been enough sight-seeing for one day, because it took like, over two hours. Also, he had probably the most unique mixed CD on while we drove…it was this strange mix of Michael Jackson, the Black Eyed Peas, Celine Dion and Beyonce. Like, literally we heard at least 3 songs by each of those artists, plus other ridiculous songs such as Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Beautiful, and I Saw the Sign. I know, enough said.
Then he took us to this Dervish house…which I took to mean traditionally Muslim. Jessica, help? It was all very fascinating and fun, because the girls had to put on scarves and cover their shoulders and everything…even though no one lived there. But I guess it was also a place of worship, by the looks of it. And there were all these amazing things you could buy, but sadly I’m at the beginning of my trip still, so I knew I wouldn’t have room for them all or want to carry them for so long. I still have rocks from the Cinque Terre weighing down my bag. The best part of all this is that Bosnia is so Muslim, it’s like a taste of Turkey, and since I won’t be going there anymore, it’s nice.
He then was like ‘want to go swimming?” and it was like fuck yeah, Bosnia is as hot as a crotch. So he drops us off at this kind of park, and he says to walk down this path, and we’ll find it. So we’re like ok HOT. We’re walking and walking and walking, and we begin to hear the sound of rushing water. This was very exciting, but as we went on, we realized that nothing would prepare us for what we were about to see. Literally 5 huge waterfalls right out of Thailand, set down in the middle of Bosnia! Like, I couldn’t believe it. One of the most gorgeous things I’ve ever seen. I have always wanted to see a full-on beautiful waterfall, and I assumed I’d have to wait until Thailand to do so, and this wasn’t just a little splashing here and there, it was huge and powerful and beautiful and the coolest thing in the world.
So we get in and the water literally feels like what I imagine the Atlantic Ocean felt like for the victims of the Titanic. It was the coldest water I had ever been in, and it was salt-free, so it wasn’t disgusting or bitter or full of crap. So it’s like 1 PM now and I’ve already done more sight-seeing than on my entire trip, so I’m ready for bed, and our tour guide’s like ‘We are now going to Medjugorje!’
If you don’t know what it is (why would you?), Medjugorje is this tiny town where people have reported seeing the Virgin Mary appear to them. My mom is like obsessed with it, apparently. I know this because oddly enough, Jessica went to Medjugorje a few weeks ago because she’s a devout Catholic. She came back and, knowing I was visiting Bosnia, told me to visit it. I happened to go home soon after she told me, and wanted to check my email or someshit. I open Safari on my mom’s computer, and literally the entire bookmarks bar is filled with bookmarks about Medjugorje. But then I click, and every single link is the same page. I think she was trying to add a regular bookmark to the dropdown menu, but didn’t realize they go directly to the bar, so she did it like 10 times before giving up. Anyway, Medjugorje totally plays it up, and it was worth it just to see the commercialization of this so-called phenomenon. For instance, there was a MODAna Boutique….get it? Like moda, which means fashion in romance languages…and there also the Regina Hotel. Yeah, the first one was clever.
So, anyway, none of us have our guidebooks, and none of us knew we were going there, but I knew enough to be like cool! Let’s see some Mary. He drops us off at this little Church which is really pretty, and Mass is just getting out, so it’s like super-crowded and all these people are crowding around this bus of the Madonna. That was cool enough to witness and all (ps, let me just say this. I’m so far removed from the catholic faith that witnessing a catholic mass felt as foreign to me as visiting the Dervish house…I felt like an anthropologist, ready to analyze and explore the church, rather than a lamb coming home to graze), but we were like, now what? He said he’d be back in 20 minutes, and we had seen this church in like 5. We were kind of confused, and it definitely felt like we had missed something….but then when I got in the van, Virgin Mary popped out and was like hey! Not really.
So we head back, grab some food at an awesome restaurant (and let me just say THIS. I have had 3 amazing meals now in Bosnia at really nice places, each for the price of about 5 euros, that would break the fucking bank in any other country, everything here is so cheap, thank god, because I spent way too much money in Italy/Germany/Croatia), and we laughed more about the music selection. After talking a bit about our plans for after Mostar, all three girls inform me that they’re heading to Sarajevo next. I don’t want to be left out, so I decide to change my plans to hang out with my girls some more. So instead of heading back to Croatia to lounge on the beach for a few more days, I’m heading to Sarajevo for 3 nights! We’ve book a room at some place called the Harris Hostel. It’s got wifi, so I’m down. And I’m really excited to transition from a sleepy little town to a bustling capital. It’s like, small towns are nice because they’re not hectic, and you probably won’t get as lost…but when I’m in a city, I feel so much closer to civilization, like train stations and airports and bus stations and restaurants and banks and post offices, etc. Like I’m not as scared of getting stranded. There will always be a hostel or hotel with a vacancy, or a train to the next city, or a store where I can by new headphones or batteries or whatever.
OH! Speaking of cities, I’ve yet to go to like some crazy ridiculous European bar in Amstedam or Munich or anything like that. But, I had a really unique experience last night. So when we arrived, we walked past this place of business called Ali Baba. You could walk into it from the street, and immediately you’re walking downstairs underground. We were like ‘ooh cool restaurant or whatever.’ So the next morning I’m at a Bosnian version of a Tabbachi and I see these Irish guys from my bus to Mostar. They’re like ‘Man have you been to Ali Baba???’ and I’m like ‘Um….oh! no, why?” and they’re all ‘It’s a club in a cave, you have to see it.” So last night we decide to do so. When you get past those stairs, you keep walking down and down into an actual cave. Water is dripping everywhere and everything. Then you get down into the actual bar and it’s ridiculous. There are strobe lights and flat screen TVs of JLo on the catwalk and all the waiters are wearing matching Capri Pants and there are dancing fountains, all inside this HUGE cave! It was awesome. And definitely the coolest bar I’d ever been to…and it was in Bosnia, haha.
So yeah, last night I get back to my room and lay down to sleep, and I open up my book to read about Medjugorje. Apparently, we did miss something. Something awesome. There’s this huge Jesus which apparently seems to float in midair, that bleeds holy water and people like come to bathe in it and stuff. It’s behind the church. We were definitely in front of the church, and didn’t think to walk around.
Ok, love you all and wish you were in Sarajevo with me!
-Josh A
Is it pathetic that every night before I retire I must watch another episode of Grey’s Anatomy? I don’t know what it is about this show that has catapulted it to favorite-things status, but I can’t get enough. Even when really great characters make bad decisions, I need to see more, in hopes that they rectify themselves. If anything, a year from now it should be interesting to see how I view the Anatomy, as it should have a fairly high level of nostalgia for southern Europe.
So anyway, yesterday may have just been the single best day of my time in Europe so far. I have met a few girls whom I spent my time with in Mostar, and we actually booked a ‘tour’ through our hostel, though we don’t know where it goes. It’s just around, to places you can’t really get by public transport, apparently. I put tour in quotations because, as my friend Genevieve put it, it was more of a glorified taxi ride. But I’ll get to that later. Genevieve is Australian, and she has been backpacking across EASTERN EASTERN Europe for 2 months now, and is on her way to Spain soon for 3 more. I could sum up her time so far as being everything I am so excited to do someday and everything I’m terrified of happening to me someday all rolled into one trip. For instance, she started out her trip in RUSSIA. ALONE. She got there, lost her immigration card (which is like losing your passport in Russia), and had to spend a whole day fixing that mess, which could totally be its own blog entry, so I’m gonna leave it at that. She then went to Ukraine, and spent a whole day wandering around the Ukrainian countryside, lost and unable to communicate with anyone. She couldn’t even call her hostel because there was a POWER OUTAGE in that city, and then she had to call up her friend who speaks Russian and just walk up to random strangers and give them the phone in hopes that her friend would explain her situation that they’d take pity on her and help her out. I know. I would have called my mom, told her to book me a one-way flight home and I would have been home by now, out of tears to cry.
Anyway, she’s way fun. As I said, she’s spending 3 months in Spain on this sweet deal where she lives in this family’s home for free, in exchange for 10 hours of English lessons a week for their son. I know right?! Then I also met Kristina and Emily (probably not spelled right), 2 Danish students backpacking around the Former Yugoslavia for about a month. I’m literally fascinated with everything about Denmark now and I’m totally going to go there someday. Weirdly, Kristina is coming to the US for a road trip in February, driving from San Francisco to New York, and driving thru Iowa on i80. That means she’s passing Iowa City AND Tipton! So I told her she could stay with me. Anyway, they’re so informed, it’s ridiculous. They know all about health care reform, and immigration, and they’re also in Iraq! They said they often forget they’re a nation at war. Anyway, apparently ALL television in Denmark is American, and after asking them what shows they like….guess what we have in common?
Yeah, they’re huge Grey’s fans. However, sadly, they’re also Meredith fans. But they told me to stick with it, and that I’ll like her more…and they also admitted that she was quite pathetic in the early seasons. And they don’t like Private Practice…which is sad, because I hope I do. But everyone says it sucks. So anyway, they said the best part about Grey’s is that now they know all this medical terminology in English, and they proceeded to do all these little impressions of doctors in an American ER. It’s fun.
So anyway we’re on this “tour.” This Bosnian man (who never introduced himself, but was friendly enough) picked us up from the hostel and took us first to a couple of towns that were somewhat ancient, but are now in ruins. Some are in ruins simply because of time, some because of bombings, some both. This was fun enough and usually would have been enough sight-seeing for one day, because it took like, over two hours. Also, he had probably the most unique mixed CD on while we drove…it was this strange mix of Michael Jackson, the Black Eyed Peas, Celine Dion and Beyonce. Like, literally we heard at least 3 songs by each of those artists, plus other ridiculous songs such as Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Beautiful, and I Saw the Sign. I know, enough said.
Then he took us to this Dervish house…which I took to mean traditionally Muslim. Jessica, help? It was all very fascinating and fun, because the girls had to put on scarves and cover their shoulders and everything…even though no one lived there. But I guess it was also a place of worship, by the looks of it. And there were all these amazing things you could buy, but sadly I’m at the beginning of my trip still, so I knew I wouldn’t have room for them all or want to carry them for so long. I still have rocks from the Cinque Terre weighing down my bag. The best part of all this is that Bosnia is so Muslim, it’s like a taste of Turkey, and since I won’t be going there anymore, it’s nice.
He then was like ‘want to go swimming?” and it was like fuck yeah, Bosnia is as hot as a crotch. So he drops us off at this kind of park, and he says to walk down this path, and we’ll find it. So we’re like ok HOT. We’re walking and walking and walking, and we begin to hear the sound of rushing water. This was very exciting, but as we went on, we realized that nothing would prepare us for what we were about to see. Literally 5 huge waterfalls right out of Thailand, set down in the middle of Bosnia! Like, I couldn’t believe it. One of the most gorgeous things I’ve ever seen. I have always wanted to see a full-on beautiful waterfall, and I assumed I’d have to wait until Thailand to do so, and this wasn’t just a little splashing here and there, it was huge and powerful and beautiful and the coolest thing in the world.
So we get in and the water literally feels like what I imagine the Atlantic Ocean felt like for the victims of the Titanic. It was the coldest water I had ever been in, and it was salt-free, so it wasn’t disgusting or bitter or full of crap. So it’s like 1 PM now and I’ve already done more sight-seeing than on my entire trip, so I’m ready for bed, and our tour guide’s like ‘We are now going to Medjugorje!’
If you don’t know what it is (why would you?), Medjugorje is this tiny town where people have reported seeing the Virgin Mary appear to them. My mom is like obsessed with it, apparently. I know this because oddly enough, Jessica went to Medjugorje a few weeks ago because she’s a devout Catholic. She came back and, knowing I was visiting Bosnia, told me to visit it. I happened to go home soon after she told me, and wanted to check my email or someshit. I open Safari on my mom’s computer, and literally the entire bookmarks bar is filled with bookmarks about Medjugorje. But then I click, and every single link is the same page. I think she was trying to add a regular bookmark to the dropdown menu, but didn’t realize they go directly to the bar, so she did it like 10 times before giving up. Anyway, Medjugorje totally plays it up, and it was worth it just to see the commercialization of this so-called phenomenon. For instance, there was a MODAna Boutique….get it? Like moda, which means fashion in romance languages…and there also the Regina Hotel. Yeah, the first one was clever.
So, anyway, none of us have our guidebooks, and none of us knew we were going there, but I knew enough to be like cool! Let’s see some Mary. He drops us off at this little Church which is really pretty, and Mass is just getting out, so it’s like super-crowded and all these people are crowding around this bus of the Madonna. That was cool enough to witness and all (ps, let me just say this. I’m so far removed from the catholic faith that witnessing a catholic mass felt as foreign to me as visiting the Dervish house…I felt like an anthropologist, ready to analyze and explore the church, rather than a lamb coming home to graze), but we were like, now what? He said he’d be back in 20 minutes, and we had seen this church in like 5. We were kind of confused, and it definitely felt like we had missed something….but then when I got in the van, Virgin Mary popped out and was like hey! Not really.
So we head back, grab some food at an awesome restaurant (and let me just say THIS. I have had 3 amazing meals now in Bosnia at really nice places, each for the price of about 5 euros, that would break the fucking bank in any other country, everything here is so cheap, thank god, because I spent way too much money in Italy/Germany/Croatia), and we laughed more about the music selection. After talking a bit about our plans for after Mostar, all three girls inform me that they’re heading to Sarajevo next. I don’t want to be left out, so I decide to change my plans to hang out with my girls some more. So instead of heading back to Croatia to lounge on the beach for a few more days, I’m heading to Sarajevo for 3 nights! We’ve book a room at some place called the Harris Hostel. It’s got wifi, so I’m down. And I’m really excited to transition from a sleepy little town to a bustling capital. It’s like, small towns are nice because they’re not hectic, and you probably won’t get as lost…but when I’m in a city, I feel so much closer to civilization, like train stations and airports and bus stations and restaurants and banks and post offices, etc. Like I’m not as scared of getting stranded. There will always be a hostel or hotel with a vacancy, or a train to the next city, or a store where I can by new headphones or batteries or whatever.
OH! Speaking of cities, I’ve yet to go to like some crazy ridiculous European bar in Amstedam or Munich or anything like that. But, I had a really unique experience last night. So when we arrived, we walked past this place of business called Ali Baba. You could walk into it from the street, and immediately you’re walking downstairs underground. We were like ‘ooh cool restaurant or whatever.’ So the next morning I’m at a Bosnian version of a Tabbachi and I see these Irish guys from my bus to Mostar. They’re like ‘Man have you been to Ali Baba???’ and I’m like ‘Um….oh! no, why?” and they’re all ‘It’s a club in a cave, you have to see it.” So last night we decide to do so. When you get past those stairs, you keep walking down and down into an actual cave. Water is dripping everywhere and everything. Then you get down into the actual bar and it’s ridiculous. There are strobe lights and flat screen TVs of JLo on the catwalk and all the waiters are wearing matching Capri Pants and there are dancing fountains, all inside this HUGE cave! It was awesome. And definitely the coolest bar I’d ever been to…and it was in Bosnia, haha.
So yeah, last night I get back to my room and lay down to sleep, and I open up my book to read about Medjugorje. Apparently, we did miss something. Something awesome. There’s this huge Jesus which apparently seems to float in midair, that bleeds holy water and people like come to bathe in it and stuff. It’s behind the church. We were definitely in front of the church, and didn’t think to walk around.
Ok, love you all and wish you were in Sarajevo with me!
-Josh A
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Random Thought: 11
Hi again,
So, I was just on CNN, and found this:
http://edition.cnn.com/2010/WORLD/europe/08/19/france.roma/index.html?hpt=T2#fbid=sVSWd7VniAS&wom=false
And I have made three friends whom I will tell you all about tomorrow, and I'm very much liking Bosnia right now. It's kind of what I expect from Turkey, mixed with Greece. I am in such awe though, seeing what war has done to the city of Mostar. This city is so beautiful, and I am very happy to be here.
- Josh A
So, I was just on CNN, and found this:
http://edition.cnn.com/2010/WORLD/europe/08/19/france.roma/index.html?hpt=T2#fbid=sVSWd7VniAS&wom=false
And I have made three friends whom I will tell you all about tomorrow, and I'm very much liking Bosnia right now. It's kind of what I expect from Turkey, mixed with Greece. I am in such awe though, seeing what war has done to the city of Mostar. This city is so beautiful, and I am very happy to be here.
- Josh A
Random Thought: 10
Hiiiii,
So I’m currently in Bosnia. It’s pretty much Greece. With some mosques. But I guess that could change when I get to Mostar, which should be in about an hour. I’ve had some interesting experiences and discussions as of late, and I’ve been looking forward to blogging with them. First of all, I just want to comment on Roma. Now, in every single eastern European country guidebook or wikitravel page I’ve seen, there is a disclaimer about the situation with the Roma in said countries. If you don’t know, the Roma are a kind of nomadic people, stemming from Romania (though really having roots in India), that travel from region to region mostly in southern & eastern Europe. They tend to be darker complected, and are also known as Gypsies, because of the similarities in appearance they hold to what we know of as “gypsies.” Anyway, there is a lot of animosity toward this nation because they are known as beggars, homeless, etc. Granted, in any region, the poorer people are going to be marginalized. But this is a particularly interesting group, because they’re not immigrants, per se. It’s truly unique, and actually, when I was having that great convo with Fran about all things Croatian, he said that so many people in Croatia hate the Roma because they do not work or pay taxes and they just want to live off of others’ earnings. This was an interesting parallel, in my opinion, to Mexican immigrants in the US. Because our immigrants DO want to work, and pay taxes, and become citizens, in general. It just made me wonder how much they would really be welcome (the Roma) if they DID want to assimilate or live here permanently. Or there, because I’m in Bosnia now. ANYWAY every book has told me that ‘often, dark-complected travelers have reported being mistaken for Roma, and encountering unwanted aggression.” Now, being darker complected, this has always kind of worried me. But, now that I am here, I actually encountered my first Roma the other day! And, yeah, I’m not gonna be mistaken for one anytime soon. Fran actually told me so, he was like ‘Believe me…you won’t miss them. You’ll know it when you see it.” And he was right, because the two roma I saw (in Dubrovnik), were decked out head to toe in flamboyant clothing, had very long and thick almost dreadlock like hair, and looked very much down and out. In the US, you might think they were homeless, or you might think they were just really anti-mainstream and really into a hybrid sub-culture between hippies & Rastafari. Ya know? Like it’s not always hard to mistake some ultra-liberal college student who’s into organic everything for a homeless person. Anyway, that was interesting. And comforting…because the only way I’d be mistaken for a roma would be if I dressed up as Captain Jack Sparrow.
Then last night, I was having a really nice conversation with some Aussies, and we were talking all about Australian pop culture. I don’t really know why lol, in hindsight, but it was relavant. And it reminded me of something I read in The Next 100 Years, this really good book I read before I left about this IR scholar’s predictions as to what the geopolitical situation on earth would be in 100 years. It was FASCINATING, and I might go more into that later, but one thing that he spent a lot of time on was discussing how the world has gone through multiple phases and eras that only lasted for anywhere from 20-200 years or so. Like, in other words, if in 1920, you had gone up to an average European and told them that in another 20 years, Germany would be on the brink of global domination, they would have laughed in your face. And then in 1940, someone told you that Germany would crumble within 20 years, and the US and USSR would be the supreme global powers, they would have again laughed in your face.
Anyway, he was emphatic about one point in particular, that we are in American age, if you will. Like, right now, everyything around the world is highly contingent upon American affairs, politically, economically, and culturally. And after having so many connversations with people, I’ve realized just how true this really is. This Aussie woman I was talking with last night informed me that probably 80% of Australian TV is, in fact, American TV. She also told me that really, for any Australian actor to be considered a full-on celebrity, they have to first make it big in the US. So, Nicole Kidman, Hugh Jackman, Isla Fishers are all celebrities, but the stars of the 20% of Australian shows they watch really aren’t considered that famous. In fact, many of the Australian celebrities we're familiar with, such as Kylie Minogue, actually got their start on some Australian show, and that was actually amusing to them, like our little dog-and-pony TV show, only watched and enkjoyed by all of Australia.
Furthermore, they were very aware of the fact that an Austrlian show would never really fly on American TV. For instance, we talked at length about Kath and Kim, this short-lived show in the US, starring Molly Shannon and Selma Blair, which was actually based on an Australian show of the same name. It was HUGE in Australia, but upon arrival in the US, the rebooted version only lasted 20 episodes or something. I actually own the entire series (haha), because I love anything and everything Molly Shannon and Selma Blair do together (so.....Kath & Kim), but anyway this woman was at first mistaken because when I said “We have Kath and Kim too!” she was like ‘No way!” because she thought it was the same show, and couldn’t believe that Americans would enjoy it. It wasn’t an indignant view, or a jab at Americans in any way, but truly an acknowledgement of the almost-fact that Australian TV shows just wouldn’t fly in the US. And it’s true…this is why we have an American Office and countless other shows.
It’s just like, god can you imagine growing up and having all your favorite shows be based on another country’s culture? Like if Friends took place in Turkey? Or Will and Grace in the UK? That would never happen. We don’t even have Canadian shows! Honestly, is there one Canadian show on TV (not counting Degrassi)?
What does Alaska do? Do they watch Canadian (American?) TV, or just watch US shows really late, or is it all sent to them in the same way as it is in the US?
- Josh A
So I’m currently in Bosnia. It’s pretty much Greece. With some mosques. But I guess that could change when I get to Mostar, which should be in about an hour. I’ve had some interesting experiences and discussions as of late, and I’ve been looking forward to blogging with them. First of all, I just want to comment on Roma. Now, in every single eastern European country guidebook or wikitravel page I’ve seen, there is a disclaimer about the situation with the Roma in said countries. If you don’t know, the Roma are a kind of nomadic people, stemming from Romania (though really having roots in India), that travel from region to region mostly in southern & eastern Europe. They tend to be darker complected, and are also known as Gypsies, because of the similarities in appearance they hold to what we know of as “gypsies.” Anyway, there is a lot of animosity toward this nation because they are known as beggars, homeless, etc. Granted, in any region, the poorer people are going to be marginalized. But this is a particularly interesting group, because they’re not immigrants, per se. It’s truly unique, and actually, when I was having that great convo with Fran about all things Croatian, he said that so many people in Croatia hate the Roma because they do not work or pay taxes and they just want to live off of others’ earnings. This was an interesting parallel, in my opinion, to Mexican immigrants in the US. Because our immigrants DO want to work, and pay taxes, and become citizens, in general. It just made me wonder how much they would really be welcome (the Roma) if they DID want to assimilate or live here permanently. Or there, because I’m in Bosnia now. ANYWAY every book has told me that ‘often, dark-complected travelers have reported being mistaken for Roma, and encountering unwanted aggression.” Now, being darker complected, this has always kind of worried me. But, now that I am here, I actually encountered my first Roma the other day! And, yeah, I’m not gonna be mistaken for one anytime soon. Fran actually told me so, he was like ‘Believe me…you won’t miss them. You’ll know it when you see it.” And he was right, because the two roma I saw (in Dubrovnik), were decked out head to toe in flamboyant clothing, had very long and thick almost dreadlock like hair, and looked very much down and out. In the US, you might think they were homeless, or you might think they were just really anti-mainstream and really into a hybrid sub-culture between hippies & Rastafari. Ya know? Like it’s not always hard to mistake some ultra-liberal college student who’s into organic everything for a homeless person. Anyway, that was interesting. And comforting…because the only way I’d be mistaken for a roma would be if I dressed up as Captain Jack Sparrow.
Then last night, I was having a really nice conversation with some Aussies, and we were talking all about Australian pop culture. I don’t really know why lol, in hindsight, but it was relavant. And it reminded me of something I read in The Next 100 Years, this really good book I read before I left about this IR scholar’s predictions as to what the geopolitical situation on earth would be in 100 years. It was FASCINATING, and I might go more into that later, but one thing that he spent a lot of time on was discussing how the world has gone through multiple phases and eras that only lasted for anywhere from 20-200 years or so. Like, in other words, if in 1920, you had gone up to an average European and told them that in another 20 years, Germany would be on the brink of global domination, they would have laughed in your face. And then in 1940, someone told you that Germany would crumble within 20 years, and the US and USSR would be the supreme global powers, they would have again laughed in your face.
Anyway, he was emphatic about one point in particular, that we are in American age, if you will. Like, right now, everyything around the world is highly contingent upon American affairs, politically, economically, and culturally. And after having so many connversations with people, I’ve realized just how true this really is. This Aussie woman I was talking with last night informed me that probably 80% of Australian TV is, in fact, American TV. She also told me that really, for any Australian actor to be considered a full-on celebrity, they have to first make it big in the US. So, Nicole Kidman, Hugh Jackman, Isla Fishers are all celebrities, but the stars of the 20% of Australian shows they watch really aren’t considered that famous. In fact, many of the Australian celebrities we're familiar with, such as Kylie Minogue, actually got their start on some Australian show, and that was actually amusing to them, like our little dog-and-pony TV show, only watched and enkjoyed by all of Australia.
Furthermore, they were very aware of the fact that an Austrlian show would never really fly on American TV. For instance, we talked at length about Kath and Kim, this short-lived show in the US, starring Molly Shannon and Selma Blair, which was actually based on an Australian show of the same name. It was HUGE in Australia, but upon arrival in the US, the rebooted version only lasted 20 episodes or something. I actually own the entire series (haha), because I love anything and everything Molly Shannon and Selma Blair do together (so.....Kath & Kim), but anyway this woman was at first mistaken because when I said “We have Kath and Kim too!” she was like ‘No way!” because she thought it was the same show, and couldn’t believe that Americans would enjoy it. It wasn’t an indignant view, or a jab at Americans in any way, but truly an acknowledgement of the almost-fact that Australian TV shows just wouldn’t fly in the US. And it’s true…this is why we have an American Office and countless other shows.
It’s just like, god can you imagine growing up and having all your favorite shows be based on another country’s culture? Like if Friends took place in Turkey? Or Will and Grace in the UK? That would never happen. We don’t even have Canadian shows! Honestly, is there one Canadian show on TV (not counting Degrassi)?
What does Alaska do? Do they watch Canadian (American?) TV, or just watch US shows really late, or is it all sent to them in the same way as it is in the US?
- Josh A
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Random thought: 09
Hi again,
So since the two people who actually read this have become my sort of therapist…I wanted to let you know that I had a sort of breakthrough today! You see, up until now, I haven’t been overly social in my hostels. Like, I’ve met a lot of cool people, including locals, Aussies, Canadians and Americans, but usually this happens on the train, or in the train station, or at a tourist site. I’ve really only made one “friend” so far at a hostel, and that was just because we had breakfast together and were on our way to do the only thing in the German town we were in. And now I can’t even find her on facebook.
Anyway, since Meritt and Nicole have left, I’ve pretty much kept to myself. Not out of any kind of shyness ,really, but because I haven’t actually felt the need to socialize. I’ve been perfectly ok with keeping myself company, and I’ve come to learn that you don’t even have to try really, because most of the time, you will meet people around. The last few nights, I’ve had wifi in my room too, so this acted as a kind of pacifier for me. I had Grey’s streaming as I progress through season 3, and I was talking on Skype to the boyfriend and Jackie and checking all my political sites and whatnot.
Well, today I check into my hostel in Dubrovnik, and I realize that I actually booked a single room. I don’t really know why, because it’s more expensive. I don’t think it’s too expensive though, so perhaps I was like ‘oh I’ll want the privacy.” Well, turns out, I don’t. I’ve learned there’s a kind of solidarity to having dorm-mates in these hostels. And people are very friendly, and, as I said earlier, you just kind of end up talking to people, even if you don’t plan on it.
I also find out soon after that my room doesn’t have Wifi. So, I’m staying tonight and tomorrow in a private room with no wifi…and I had a little freakout. As in, I once again reverted to ‘it’s all right Josh, you can come home as soon as India’s over, and that’s in less than 2 months…’ and getting all nervous in my stomach about being alone and blah blah blah annoying. Luckily, the social areas of the hostel (a pretty good hostel, I might add) had Wifi, so I went and sat in the main lobby just emailing and facebooking and stuff. After doing so for about an hour, this nice Croatian girl who works at the hostel approached me and asked if I’d like to join the party outside.
I’m still feeling really anxious. So, I initially refuse and say I’ve got all this stuff to do on the computer (aka, waiting for Jason to get off work so I can skype with him)…but after about 20 minutes of this, I realize there’s only so long I can sit on this couch without being completely creepy. I walk outside and pass this really nice group of people who actually all strike up a conversation with me. I talk for about 3 minutes, and then say good night. I’m still feeling anxious, and like I want to go home, so all I want to do is go watch Alias, to put my mind at ease with something familiar.
And then, when I got to my door, I had a choice. I realized that right then and there, I could decide what kind of trip this would be. It would either be a boring, lonely trip, where I keep to myself and stream free TV on my laptop every night because I need to cling to something familiar, or it could be a trip where I meet tons of people from around the world and actually have fun all day long, not just when I’m sightseeing. I could turn around and have a few drinks, have some intelligent conversation and not feel so alone or in need of returning home….
Well, I had a breakthrough that most people have in eighth grade! I turned around and sat right down in the middle of the group of 10 and just put myself out there. And it was great! I hung out for about an hour, before just deciding that I was totally ready to hit the sack and that by now, there was nothing wrong with watching an episode of Alias before I go to bed, because now the reason I wanted to watch an episode wasn’t because I needed one to fill up time, or to make me feel better in a foreign country, but because I was just tired and wanted to lay in bed.
At the moment, I am so happy that I am booked into a private room, and also very happy that there is no wifi in it. As I’ve said before, this trip is about new experiences. It’s about independence. And as I’ve told so many people, there’s nothing wrong with being alone…in any sense of the word. There are worse things than being single. There are worse things than being physically alone for an evening. There are worse things than being emotionally alone for a little while! Sometimes, it’s so hard to admit and believe, but it’s true….and right now, I have to prove it to myself….because I’m not alone. I have a wonderful boyfriend, a loving family, great friends, and tons of other backpackers I can meet tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that. It’s just two nights…
I’m sure this won’t be my last freakout. However, I’m very proud of the fact that they are becoming less frequent, and that I’m handling them.
- Josh A
So since the two people who actually read this have become my sort of therapist…I wanted to let you know that I had a sort of breakthrough today! You see, up until now, I haven’t been overly social in my hostels. Like, I’ve met a lot of cool people, including locals, Aussies, Canadians and Americans, but usually this happens on the train, or in the train station, or at a tourist site. I’ve really only made one “friend” so far at a hostel, and that was just because we had breakfast together and were on our way to do the only thing in the German town we were in. And now I can’t even find her on facebook.
Anyway, since Meritt and Nicole have left, I’ve pretty much kept to myself. Not out of any kind of shyness ,really, but because I haven’t actually felt the need to socialize. I’ve been perfectly ok with keeping myself company, and I’ve come to learn that you don’t even have to try really, because most of the time, you will meet people around. The last few nights, I’ve had wifi in my room too, so this acted as a kind of pacifier for me. I had Grey’s streaming as I progress through season 3, and I was talking on Skype to the boyfriend and Jackie and checking all my political sites and whatnot.
Well, today I check into my hostel in Dubrovnik, and I realize that I actually booked a single room. I don’t really know why, because it’s more expensive. I don’t think it’s too expensive though, so perhaps I was like ‘oh I’ll want the privacy.” Well, turns out, I don’t. I’ve learned there’s a kind of solidarity to having dorm-mates in these hostels. And people are very friendly, and, as I said earlier, you just kind of end up talking to people, even if you don’t plan on it.
I also find out soon after that my room doesn’t have Wifi. So, I’m staying tonight and tomorrow in a private room with no wifi…and I had a little freakout. As in, I once again reverted to ‘it’s all right Josh, you can come home as soon as India’s over, and that’s in less than 2 months…’ and getting all nervous in my stomach about being alone and blah blah blah annoying. Luckily, the social areas of the hostel (a pretty good hostel, I might add) had Wifi, so I went and sat in the main lobby just emailing and facebooking and stuff. After doing so for about an hour, this nice Croatian girl who works at the hostel approached me and asked if I’d like to join the party outside.
I’m still feeling really anxious. So, I initially refuse and say I’ve got all this stuff to do on the computer (aka, waiting for Jason to get off work so I can skype with him)…but after about 20 minutes of this, I realize there’s only so long I can sit on this couch without being completely creepy. I walk outside and pass this really nice group of people who actually all strike up a conversation with me. I talk for about 3 minutes, and then say good night. I’m still feeling anxious, and like I want to go home, so all I want to do is go watch Alias, to put my mind at ease with something familiar.
And then, when I got to my door, I had a choice. I realized that right then and there, I could decide what kind of trip this would be. It would either be a boring, lonely trip, where I keep to myself and stream free TV on my laptop every night because I need to cling to something familiar, or it could be a trip where I meet tons of people from around the world and actually have fun all day long, not just when I’m sightseeing. I could turn around and have a few drinks, have some intelligent conversation and not feel so alone or in need of returning home….
Well, I had a breakthrough that most people have in eighth grade! I turned around and sat right down in the middle of the group of 10 and just put myself out there. And it was great! I hung out for about an hour, before just deciding that I was totally ready to hit the sack and that by now, there was nothing wrong with watching an episode of Alias before I go to bed, because now the reason I wanted to watch an episode wasn’t because I needed one to fill up time, or to make me feel better in a foreign country, but because I was just tired and wanted to lay in bed.
At the moment, I am so happy that I am booked into a private room, and also very happy that there is no wifi in it. As I’ve said before, this trip is about new experiences. It’s about independence. And as I’ve told so many people, there’s nothing wrong with being alone…in any sense of the word. There are worse things than being single. There are worse things than being physically alone for an evening. There are worse things than being emotionally alone for a little while! Sometimes, it’s so hard to admit and believe, but it’s true….and right now, I have to prove it to myself….because I’m not alone. I have a wonderful boyfriend, a loving family, great friends, and tons of other backpackers I can meet tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that. It’s just two nights…
I’m sure this won’t be my last freakout. However, I’m very proud of the fact that they are becoming less frequent, and that I’m handling them.
- Josh A
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Random Thought 08
Howdy y’all!
Ok ya know how sometimes you’ll be listening to the radio and some completely old, random song that is never on the radio anymore will come on and it’s just like…the funniest thing? Like, if you were listening to a pop radio station and all of a sudden Bills, Bills, Bills came on between Akon and Lady GaGa, it’s be awesome and hilarious, right? Well, it’s even more awesome hilarious when you’re in Croatia. I have heard tons of Katy Perry, and tons of Lady Gaga while abroad so far, but nothing has been as awesome this bus ride so far.
I’m on a bus from Split to Dubrovnik, and as soon as we took off, the radio came on. Immediately, I was able to enjoy Toni Braxton’s ‘He Wasn’t Man Enough For Me.” Remember that song?! Haha. Then about 10 minutes later, I reminisced to “I’m Like a Bird” by old-school Nelly Furtado. Then, this wasn’t as good, but “You Sang to Me” by Marc Anthony came on. And now, I’m definitely listening to “Love me, Love me” by the Cardigans. I actually have no idea if that’s the title, or if that’s how you spell their name, but you know what I’m talking about, right?
Ok the “Other Side” by the Red Hot Chili Peppers is on now. It’s like they’re only allowed to play songs that were release between 1995 and 2000. Fuckin right. It’s weird how much music can have such a strong effect on your mood, right? Like when you’re sad, listening to sad music can make you SAD, even if you didn’t think you could be more sad. It’s like, a different kind of sad. You can go from a peaceful sad to an emotional, trainwreck sad. The same can be said for the more positive emotions. Right now, this music selection is a nice respite from the ridiculously foreign culture and customs of expensive, massively developed Croatia. Ha. But really, it is nice.
I will say though that if you ever do go to Croatia, prepare yourself for some ridiculous journeys high up in the mountains along very narrow, windy roads and very tilty trains. Gorgeous, but scary. Last year, I learned there are similar journeys in southern Italy and northern Greece too. The tiltiness is apparently a good thing, because it allows the train to go faster, but it’s kind of scary when you’re a mile up from where you would land if the train just tipped over.
Aw, the mountains are making the awesome radio station staticky.
WAIT. OH MY GOD. THIS IS UNREAL. That song about the days of the week by David Craig (I think…that’s probably not right) just came on. Regardless, I have for some time now been very adamant that the 6th grade – 7th grade era of music was the best in the history of time, and I swear the DJ just put in the Now 5 – 7 plus the TOTALLY HITS (or whatever0 CDs and put it on random because its ALL MIDDLE SCHOOL BABY. This is the best trip ever. Right here, right now, I just chose my fate. I’m never leaving Croatia.
- Josh A
Ok ya know how sometimes you’ll be listening to the radio and some completely old, random song that is never on the radio anymore will come on and it’s just like…the funniest thing? Like, if you were listening to a pop radio station and all of a sudden Bills, Bills, Bills came on between Akon and Lady GaGa, it’s be awesome and hilarious, right? Well, it’s even more awesome hilarious when you’re in Croatia. I have heard tons of Katy Perry, and tons of Lady Gaga while abroad so far, but nothing has been as awesome this bus ride so far.
I’m on a bus from Split to Dubrovnik, and as soon as we took off, the radio came on. Immediately, I was able to enjoy Toni Braxton’s ‘He Wasn’t Man Enough For Me.” Remember that song?! Haha. Then about 10 minutes later, I reminisced to “I’m Like a Bird” by old-school Nelly Furtado. Then, this wasn’t as good, but “You Sang to Me” by Marc Anthony came on. And now, I’m definitely listening to “Love me, Love me” by the Cardigans. I actually have no idea if that’s the title, or if that’s how you spell their name, but you know what I’m talking about, right?
Ok the “Other Side” by the Red Hot Chili Peppers is on now. It’s like they’re only allowed to play songs that were release between 1995 and 2000. Fuckin right. It’s weird how much music can have such a strong effect on your mood, right? Like when you’re sad, listening to sad music can make you SAD, even if you didn’t think you could be more sad. It’s like, a different kind of sad. You can go from a peaceful sad to an emotional, trainwreck sad. The same can be said for the more positive emotions. Right now, this music selection is a nice respite from the ridiculously foreign culture and customs of expensive, massively developed Croatia. Ha. But really, it is nice.
I will say though that if you ever do go to Croatia, prepare yourself for some ridiculous journeys high up in the mountains along very narrow, windy roads and very tilty trains. Gorgeous, but scary. Last year, I learned there are similar journeys in southern Italy and northern Greece too. The tiltiness is apparently a good thing, because it allows the train to go faster, but it’s kind of scary when you’re a mile up from where you would land if the train just tipped over.
Aw, the mountains are making the awesome radio station staticky.
WAIT. OH MY GOD. THIS IS UNREAL. That song about the days of the week by David Craig (I think…that’s probably not right) just came on. Regardless, I have for some time now been very adamant that the 6th grade – 7th grade era of music was the best in the history of time, and I swear the DJ just put in the Now 5 – 7 plus the TOTALLY HITS (or whatever0 CDs and put it on random because its ALL MIDDLE SCHOOL BABY. This is the best trip ever. Right here, right now, I just chose my fate. I’m never leaving Croatia.
- Josh A
Monday, August 16, 2010
Random Thought: 07
Heya,
So, I got 12.5 hours of sleep last night. I know. It was pretty much the greatest night of my life...which is saying a lot about this trip apparently lol. Anyway I was watching an episode of the Anatomy where Meredith was only slightly annoying, and I could hardly keep my eyes open. So at 9:30 (!!) I full-on went to bed. I slept until after 10:00 this morning. So then I went around exploring Diocletian's Palace.
This thing is something that you need to see to actually get. It's like, you walk in, and it's like the Acropolis in Athens...but three times the size. Every wall is ancient, crumbling stone. But, within the stone, people are working and living and shit. And it's not just like, fruit stands and tabbachi, there are full-on banks, shoe stores, four star restaurants, etc. Some of these have the original ambience of stonewalls/floors, some don't. Some are in the middle. For instance, there's a Bank with computers and desks and glass dividers...but the steps and back wall are original. So cool.
Anyway, that was enough to keep me occupied for two hours. But then I started to really sweat, so I went to the beach. I laid there for 4 hours, reading from Childhood's End, but Arthur C. Clarke. Ever read it? It seemed weird because it's about aliens, and I was like uuuuugh nothing can be as good as Animorphs, so what's the point, but it's way good. Like, everyone should read it, and it's only 200 pages. After 4 hours, the caucasian Josh was gone. Mexican Josh is back. I have a feeling more people are going to start mistaking me for some kind of Asian. Just in time for Asia!
Did you hear about the plane that broke in half? Ugh. Anyway, I think I may book a guided tour for India, any suggestions?
Love,
Josh A
So, I got 12.5 hours of sleep last night. I know. It was pretty much the greatest night of my life...which is saying a lot about this trip apparently lol. Anyway I was watching an episode of the Anatomy where Meredith was only slightly annoying, and I could hardly keep my eyes open. So at 9:30 (!!) I full-on went to bed. I slept until after 10:00 this morning. So then I went around exploring Diocletian's Palace.
This thing is something that you need to see to actually get. It's like, you walk in, and it's like the Acropolis in Athens...but three times the size. Every wall is ancient, crumbling stone. But, within the stone, people are working and living and shit. And it's not just like, fruit stands and tabbachi, there are full-on banks, shoe stores, four star restaurants, etc. Some of these have the original ambience of stonewalls/floors, some don't. Some are in the middle. For instance, there's a Bank with computers and desks and glass dividers...but the steps and back wall are original. So cool.
Anyway, that was enough to keep me occupied for two hours. But then I started to really sweat, so I went to the beach. I laid there for 4 hours, reading from Childhood's End, but Arthur C. Clarke. Ever read it? It seemed weird because it's about aliens, and I was like uuuuugh nothing can be as good as Animorphs, so what's the point, but it's way good. Like, everyone should read it, and it's only 200 pages. After 4 hours, the caucasian Josh was gone. Mexican Josh is back. I have a feeling more people are going to start mistaking me for some kind of Asian. Just in time for Asia!
Did you hear about the plane that broke in half? Ugh. Anyway, I think I may book a guided tour for India, any suggestions?
Love,
Josh A
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Random Thought: 06
Hi!
So, things are going swimmingly. I’m currently on this super great train from Zagreb to Split, Croatia. I’ve decided that after Paris, Zagreb is my new favorite European capital. It is absolutely beautiful. It’s just like Paris. I could walk around it for weeks. So many gardens, parks, beautiful architecture, and not at all stressful or overwhelming.
Did you know that Croatia has the nicest trains in Europe? It’s looking like so. On last night’s overnight train (which looked like a soviet hand-me-down), I got 2 bottles of water, a sandwich, some kind of fruit bar, two cartons of orange juice, and a cup of cappuccino all with my ticket, all served to me by the nicest service worker I have ever met. This super-cute Hungarian woman was so happy to provide me all these treats. And my bed was comfy, AND I had an outlet in my room to charge things. Then I get on this train, which looks like it’s from the year 2020, and I’m given a free cup of cappuccino (even though I’m in 2nd class).
I’m just having a great night now. Everything’s going so well, any close calls I’ve had have worked out perfectly (and I’m taking precautions to ensure they don’t happen again) and I keep meeting really cool people. First it was the 22 year old German guy, Marcus, whom I met when I arrived and had just gotten back from Dharamsala. Then it was the guy from Wisconsin whom I talked about Big 10 football with. Then I had a great day with Lauren from my hostel who lives in Afghanistan. Then Jack and Megan from the UK, who I hung out with at the train station today, and now I’ve just had a 4 hour conversation with Fran, a 19 year old Croatian, studying economics. On this one train ride, I have learned so much about Croatian culture, etiquette, history, and perceptions of Americans.
I know this is all super corny and not all interesting to read, but it’s nice to be able to say that I’m really enjoying my time here, and that traveling alone really does have its benefits. The most interesting part of my day so far has been learning all about the tension between the Serbs and Croats, and exactly how much it still pervades everyday life. Fran and I also spent a good deal of time talking about anti-European Union sentiment among the Croatian public. Pretty much, they feel like if the EU can’t even handle Greece, how can they possibly do anything for a new country like Croatia? Also, the N word is a colloquial, not offensive or pejorative term for black people in Croatia. It’s literally the word they use, and doesn’t even draw a stare or strange look. So interesting.
Oh and I met an Australian girl who has been to Iowa…but only Ames. She said it was all right haha.
- Josh A
So, things are going swimmingly. I’m currently on this super great train from Zagreb to Split, Croatia. I’ve decided that after Paris, Zagreb is my new favorite European capital. It is absolutely beautiful. It’s just like Paris. I could walk around it for weeks. So many gardens, parks, beautiful architecture, and not at all stressful or overwhelming.
Did you know that Croatia has the nicest trains in Europe? It’s looking like so. On last night’s overnight train (which looked like a soviet hand-me-down), I got 2 bottles of water, a sandwich, some kind of fruit bar, two cartons of orange juice, and a cup of cappuccino all with my ticket, all served to me by the nicest service worker I have ever met. This super-cute Hungarian woman was so happy to provide me all these treats. And my bed was comfy, AND I had an outlet in my room to charge things. Then I get on this train, which looks like it’s from the year 2020, and I’m given a free cup of cappuccino (even though I’m in 2nd class).
I’m just having a great night now. Everything’s going so well, any close calls I’ve had have worked out perfectly (and I’m taking precautions to ensure they don’t happen again) and I keep meeting really cool people. First it was the 22 year old German guy, Marcus, whom I met when I arrived and had just gotten back from Dharamsala. Then it was the guy from Wisconsin whom I talked about Big 10 football with. Then I had a great day with Lauren from my hostel who lives in Afghanistan. Then Jack and Megan from the UK, who I hung out with at the train station today, and now I’ve just had a 4 hour conversation with Fran, a 19 year old Croatian, studying economics. On this one train ride, I have learned so much about Croatian culture, etiquette, history, and perceptions of Americans.
I know this is all super corny and not all interesting to read, but it’s nice to be able to say that I’m really enjoying my time here, and that traveling alone really does have its benefits. The most interesting part of my day so far has been learning all about the tension between the Serbs and Croats, and exactly how much it still pervades everyday life. Fran and I also spent a good deal of time talking about anti-European Union sentiment among the Croatian public. Pretty much, they feel like if the EU can’t even handle Greece, how can they possibly do anything for a new country like Croatia? Also, the N word is a colloquial, not offensive or pejorative term for black people in Croatia. It’s literally the word they use, and doesn’t even draw a stare or strange look. So interesting.
Oh and I met an Australian girl who has been to Iowa…but only Ames. She said it was all right haha.
- Josh A
Further Reflections on Venice
the following post was written at 10:45 PM, August 14th
Hello again,
So I’m on my second night train, and I’d like to let you all know that it’s really not so bad. The last night train I took, I was stuck in this teeeeny tiiiiiny little bed in a 6-person berth. I was also gross because of a long, sweaty afternoon. So I was pretty unhappy. But, I am now in a very comfortable 2-person birth, and while there’s no A/C, it’s quite cold out so it’s actually pretty great climate-wise.
However, while I’m ready to admit that night trains can be pleasant (if you are riding anytime but in the peak of summer heat, and you pay more for more room, and your roommate is as pleasant as my new roommate/friend from Colorado), I’m very hesitant to book another on this trip. Why? Because I’m five.
If you don’t know me very well, you probably don’t know that I’m actually five years old, meaning that I’m afraid of a lot of really stupid things, like lightning. I’m also afraid of getting lost. And I’m also afraid of the dark. Tonight I had a close encounter with the latter two monsters, and I about had a heart attack. I was supposed to take a 8:00 shuttle from the campground I was staying at with Meritt to the main train station in Venice, to catch my overnight train, which left at 9:20. If I arrived at 8:15, as I was supposed to, I would have had plenty of time to get to my train, settle in and get to know my Coloradan.
What really happened? The 8:00 tourbus just didn’t show up, ever, so I had to take a public bus at 8:30 to a different train station in Venice, praying that my train would also stop at this one. Thank Jesus, Mary and Joseph, it did. I arrived at the train station at 9:15, and the train would be here at 9:32. So I had time to get a BBQ wrap from McDonalds. Have you ever had a BBQ wrap? It’s literally 2 chicken McNuggets in a tortilla with BBQ sauce. It was so good.
Anyway, that whole ordeal took about 1.5 hours and it was full of darkness (the sun went down around 8:15) and the distinct possibility of being really lost. I honestly don’t even know if I’d be alive right now if there had been lightning. Wait, I’d probably be alive, but I’d be crying the side of the road somewhere. I’m not even kidding, I was freaking out. This train ticket cost $140 (yeah) and I did everything I could to be an HOUR early and I almost missed it. God, just thinking about it makes me stress again.
Isn’t that weird? I don’t know about you guys, but sometimes, if I even think about a really emotional moment in my past, I can get so easily pulled into it, like I’m actually there….and I begin to feel legitimate emotions from that moment. Sadness, jealousy, stress, happiness, etc.
Anyway, the point of all this made me realize just how good this all is for me. I say that because, in so many ways, I’m really just a kid. I live close to home, I get whatever I want whenever I want, I spend all my time with my boyfriend and get upset if I can’t, and I’m afraid of fucking lightning. This experience is probably the best thing I could possibly do to maybe just feel grown up. Or really, actually be a grown up.
So yeah, now that I’m done reflecting, I’d like to share a little about my last two days. Did you know that there are two Venices? There’s the island, which everyone knows about, that’s beautiful and full of canals and all these great restaurants and gelaterias, etc. There’s also the mainland Venice…which has none of that. I was lucky enough to spend about 3 hours yesterday walking around the awesome mainland Venice, looking for a chinese restaurant. We were bored at our hostel, and hungry, and we wanted to get some food. So we got on the bus (the same I was on earlier tonight), and decided to just get off at the first bus-stop that looked like it could possibly have restaurants. We also needed return bus tickets, so we had to find someplace that looked pretty commercial, with many businesses.
Remember when I said our hostel in La Spezia was in Romania? Well our current hostel was in Kuwait. It was even past the airport, which we passed many times. It looked smaller than the Cedar Rapids airport (which I didn’t know was possible), and we joked that it probably had food and bus tickets, if we wanted to save time. Anyway, we hopped on the bus and literally sat on it for like 30 minutes before we decided we had found a stop that looked busy enough to try.
We of course didn’t realize that it was the middle of the afternoon, aka “nothing’s open” time, but the area was busy enough, and there happened to be a bar open, so we figured we could find something eventually. We literally walked 12 blocks before realizing that it wasn’t gonna happen. We remembered seeing a Chinese restaurant on the bus that had its doors open though, and we figured, since Chinese immigrants probably aren’t 100% assimilated into Italian culture, there’s a chance the restaurant would still be open. 10 blocks later, we realized we were wrong. Being completely starving and not wanting to hop on a bus to get to real Venice, as that would take at least 45 more minutes, we decided to eat at the airport. We were right, there were food and bus tickets And it was smaller than the Cedar Rapids airport.
So anyway today, we were very happy be in the real Venice, and we actually had a really decent meal at this restaurant. I had tagliotelli with gorganzola sauce (awesome), and Nicole ordered a glass of white wine. She didn’t realize that a glass actually meant half a bottle, and she was more than willing to drink up and relax before their Ryanair flight. So, even though the Polish couple beside us were staring the entire time, she poured the remaining wine into her water bottle for later.
Have a good day!
- Josh A
Hello again,
So I’m on my second night train, and I’d like to let you all know that it’s really not so bad. The last night train I took, I was stuck in this teeeeny tiiiiiny little bed in a 6-person berth. I was also gross because of a long, sweaty afternoon. So I was pretty unhappy. But, I am now in a very comfortable 2-person birth, and while there’s no A/C, it’s quite cold out so it’s actually pretty great climate-wise.
However, while I’m ready to admit that night trains can be pleasant (if you are riding anytime but in the peak of summer heat, and you pay more for more room, and your roommate is as pleasant as my new roommate/friend from Colorado), I’m very hesitant to book another on this trip. Why? Because I’m five.
If you don’t know me very well, you probably don’t know that I’m actually five years old, meaning that I’m afraid of a lot of really stupid things, like lightning. I’m also afraid of getting lost. And I’m also afraid of the dark. Tonight I had a close encounter with the latter two monsters, and I about had a heart attack. I was supposed to take a 8:00 shuttle from the campground I was staying at with Meritt to the main train station in Venice, to catch my overnight train, which left at 9:20. If I arrived at 8:15, as I was supposed to, I would have had plenty of time to get to my train, settle in and get to know my Coloradan.
What really happened? The 8:00 tourbus just didn’t show up, ever, so I had to take a public bus at 8:30 to a different train station in Venice, praying that my train would also stop at this one. Thank Jesus, Mary and Joseph, it did. I arrived at the train station at 9:15, and the train would be here at 9:32. So I had time to get a BBQ wrap from McDonalds. Have you ever had a BBQ wrap? It’s literally 2 chicken McNuggets in a tortilla with BBQ sauce. It was so good.
Anyway, that whole ordeal took about 1.5 hours and it was full of darkness (the sun went down around 8:15) and the distinct possibility of being really lost. I honestly don’t even know if I’d be alive right now if there had been lightning. Wait, I’d probably be alive, but I’d be crying the side of the road somewhere. I’m not even kidding, I was freaking out. This train ticket cost $140 (yeah) and I did everything I could to be an HOUR early and I almost missed it. God, just thinking about it makes me stress again.
Isn’t that weird? I don’t know about you guys, but sometimes, if I even think about a really emotional moment in my past, I can get so easily pulled into it, like I’m actually there….and I begin to feel legitimate emotions from that moment. Sadness, jealousy, stress, happiness, etc.
Anyway, the point of all this made me realize just how good this all is for me. I say that because, in so many ways, I’m really just a kid. I live close to home, I get whatever I want whenever I want, I spend all my time with my boyfriend and get upset if I can’t, and I’m afraid of fucking lightning. This experience is probably the best thing I could possibly do to maybe just feel grown up. Or really, actually be a grown up.
So yeah, now that I’m done reflecting, I’d like to share a little about my last two days. Did you know that there are two Venices? There’s the island, which everyone knows about, that’s beautiful and full of canals and all these great restaurants and gelaterias, etc. There’s also the mainland Venice…which has none of that. I was lucky enough to spend about 3 hours yesterday walking around the awesome mainland Venice, looking for a chinese restaurant. We were bored at our hostel, and hungry, and we wanted to get some food. So we got on the bus (the same I was on earlier tonight), and decided to just get off at the first bus-stop that looked like it could possibly have restaurants. We also needed return bus tickets, so we had to find someplace that looked pretty commercial, with many businesses.
Remember when I said our hostel in La Spezia was in Romania? Well our current hostel was in Kuwait. It was even past the airport, which we passed many times. It looked smaller than the Cedar Rapids airport (which I didn’t know was possible), and we joked that it probably had food and bus tickets, if we wanted to save time. Anyway, we hopped on the bus and literally sat on it for like 30 minutes before we decided we had found a stop that looked busy enough to try.
We of course didn’t realize that it was the middle of the afternoon, aka “nothing’s open” time, but the area was busy enough, and there happened to be a bar open, so we figured we could find something eventually. We literally walked 12 blocks before realizing that it wasn’t gonna happen. We remembered seeing a Chinese restaurant on the bus that had its doors open though, and we figured, since Chinese immigrants probably aren’t 100% assimilated into Italian culture, there’s a chance the restaurant would still be open. 10 blocks later, we realized we were wrong. Being completely starving and not wanting to hop on a bus to get to real Venice, as that would take at least 45 more minutes, we decided to eat at the airport. We were right, there were food and bus tickets And it was smaller than the Cedar Rapids airport.
So anyway today, we were very happy be in the real Venice, and we actually had a really decent meal at this restaurant. I had tagliotelli with gorganzola sauce (awesome), and Nicole ordered a glass of white wine. She didn’t realize that a glass actually meant half a bottle, and she was more than willing to drink up and relax before their Ryanair flight. So, even though the Polish couple beside us were staring the entire time, she poured the remaining wine into her water bottle for later.
Have a good day!
- Josh A
Friday, August 13, 2010
Random Thought: 05
So,
As I’m sure you have all (2 of you) been waiting to hear whether or not I chose Germany or Istanbul, I’ve decided to satiate your addiction, and you let you know that I am, in fact, foregoing a visit to Istanbul.
I know.
I know.
Let us bow our heads in a moment of silence.
‘Tis a sad, sad day when one chooses not to visit Istanbul. However, it was logistically impossible…in every way. Most simply, I want this trip to be fun, stress-free and as relaxing as possible. I knew that if I really wanted to get to Istanbul, it’d be a long and hard trip there and back, to see more of the places I wanted to go. If this was a 2 month trip, it’d be a very different story. And you better believe that next time I come back to Europe, Istanbul will be the #1 place on my itinerary. Well, Istanbul and London. Actually, all the places I’ll still want to go to will be in completely different regions from each other. I really want to visit Spain, the UK, Scandinavia and Istanbul. Well, there ya go. That’ll be one hell of a trip. Or 4 amazingly different trips In other words, I want to go eventually visit every single country in Europe. Including Ukraine, Lithuania, Albania, Malta, Cyprus, Portugal, and all the other itty bitty ones out there. Except Luxembourg, I guess. Yeah, screw Leichtenstein too.
In fact, I’m gonna make a list-based post very soon about all the different trips I want to take. Oh man that’s gonna be a fun list.
Anyway, now that I’m not going that far east, I’ll thankfully be able to rely less on night-trains, or super-long distance trains, and spend more time in the cities I still plan on visiting. In short, that will be Croatia (6 days: Split, Dubrovnik, Zagreb), Bosnia (2 days: Mostar), Hungary (3 days: Budapest), Czech Republic (3 days: Prague and Czesky Krumlov), Poland (3 days: Krakow and Auschwitz), then Germany (4 days, not sure exactly where yet).
Good thing I photocopied 100 pages out of Jessica’s book entirely devoted to Istanbul.
Until we meet again,
- Josh A
As I’m sure you have all (2 of you) been waiting to hear whether or not I chose Germany or Istanbul, I’ve decided to satiate your addiction, and you let you know that I am, in fact, foregoing a visit to Istanbul.
I know.
I know.
Let us bow our heads in a moment of silence.
‘Tis a sad, sad day when one chooses not to visit Istanbul. However, it was logistically impossible…in every way. Most simply, I want this trip to be fun, stress-free and as relaxing as possible. I knew that if I really wanted to get to Istanbul, it’d be a long and hard trip there and back, to see more of the places I wanted to go. If this was a 2 month trip, it’d be a very different story. And you better believe that next time I come back to Europe, Istanbul will be the #1 place on my itinerary. Well, Istanbul and London. Actually, all the places I’ll still want to go to will be in completely different regions from each other. I really want to visit Spain, the UK, Scandinavia and Istanbul. Well, there ya go. That’ll be one hell of a trip. Or 4 amazingly different trips In other words, I want to go eventually visit every single country in Europe. Including Ukraine, Lithuania, Albania, Malta, Cyprus, Portugal, and all the other itty bitty ones out there. Except Luxembourg, I guess. Yeah, screw Leichtenstein too.
In fact, I’m gonna make a list-based post very soon about all the different trips I want to take. Oh man that’s gonna be a fun list.
Anyway, now that I’m not going that far east, I’ll thankfully be able to rely less on night-trains, or super-long distance trains, and spend more time in the cities I still plan on visiting. In short, that will be Croatia (6 days: Split, Dubrovnik, Zagreb), Bosnia (2 days: Mostar), Hungary (3 days: Budapest), Czech Republic (3 days: Prague and Czesky Krumlov), Poland (3 days: Krakow and Auschwitz), then Germany (4 days, not sure exactly where yet).
Good thing I photocopied 100 pages out of Jessica’s book entirely devoted to Istanbul.
Until we meet again,
- Josh A
An amusing incident
Holla,
So, yesterday was one heck of a day. After a long overnight train from Munich – Florence – La Spezia (where I lost my toothpaste and couldn’t shower in the evening or morning, though I was already soaked in hours worth of sweat) I met Meritt and her nice friend Nichole in La Spezia, just outside of the Cinque Terre. They both greeted me with huge hugs even though I was clearly not appealing.
Now, if you’ve never heard of the Cinque Terre, you need to go google image it. Right now. I’m not gonna spend much time explaining them, because that won’t do either of us any good, but once you google image it, you’ll have a good idea. I’ll just say that they’re so amazingly beautiful, I went back to them (as I went to them with Jason last year) after being in Europe only 2 days.
So anyway, I meet Meritt and Nichole, and we’re like ‘well, let’s do it.’ To experience the Cinque Terre (which you’ve presumably already googled), you walk the 7ish miles that make up the trails connecting them. They’re rugged, breathtaking and exhausting. There was no time to go back to our hostel, because our hostel might as well have been in Romania, so we went looking for luggage storage. We found it, they took it, but they said we must be back by 7:00 PM, because then they close. No one’s there to help, no lost and found, it’s closed. So, I’m thinking, no problem. It’s only 9 AM!
So we’re on the trails, busting our asses to complete the immense endeavor, and it’s fuckin hot right? On top of this, Meritt’s wearing sandals that have a bottle opener built into the bottom of them. So eventually we all want to get in the water, which is beckoning to us and is absolutely gorgeous. One problem: the girls aren’t in their swimsuits, they’re in hiking attire. We find a cove of some sort, but it’s not a public beach, so there aren’t locker rooms or whatever. There are people all around, and we happen to find a little walkway…where there aren’t too many people. But it’s fuckin hot. So, Meritt and Nichole decide to just change.
At first I was like, wow, ummmm nipple show. But then I was like, well if you’re not a guy, and you don’t have junk everywhere, it’s probably no big deal. You just stand sideways to oncoming traffic and no one’s gonna get any kind of peepshow. And then Meritt taught me how you can put a bathing suit top over a t-shirt, then take out the bra and voila! Time to swim!n So, me standing there was somewhat awkward, and I didn’t want anyone to get arrested for indecency, so I go up to this kind of lookout point above some rocks, and anytime I see someone coming, I say ‘Lasagna!’ Before I can even get up to the lookout point though, a family of four walks right by. Luckily, no one’s fully undressed yet, but there is definite unlayering of clothes and nervous glances going around. Anyway, so I get to my post. People start coming, but they’re all women. So it seems to me there’s not really any point in freaking out about this, b/c I’m sure most women on holiday at beaches are familiar with doing what ya gotta do, so I start yelling ‘Female lasagna!’ as a way to let them know they’re not gonna get raped. I don’t really know if they understood.
So anyway, we swim, and by this time it’s probably like 5:45. This was unbeknownst to me however, because the day has flown by and even though we had walked about 6 miles and explored 5 villages, it felt like 2:30. But we are thoroughly exhausted and ready to just sit. Meritt wanted to relax so badly, that she didn’t even put her bra back on after we swam (wait for it). So it’s like, “Ya know what? Let’s be super-cute and just have a great sit down meal at a nice restaurant.” We find a good place to eat, with an intriguing but affordable menu and somewhat go all out. We order a seafood appetizer plate, and all of us get a pasta entrée. Though I’m covered in 2 days worth of sweat and grime, with what I’m sure had developed into gingivitis in my mouth, AND covered in residual salt and dirt from the ocean AND wearing drippingly wet shorts I had swam in (I didn’t have my swimming suit either) and Meritt is nipping out all over the place, it’s looking like it’s gonna be a good meal. I even shell out 3 euro for a soft drink. We were considering desert and discussing gelato.
After ordering, we proceed to begin figuring out when to get back. Since our hostel is in Romania, there are only busses once every 3 days. Or a few hours. So, it comes down to 7:30, 8:50 or 10:30. My first reaction: 10:30? Last summer I don’t think Jason and I stayed up after 9:00 until our last night in Paris, before we flew out. We were so exhausted we tended to be asleep by 8:00. So I’m like, there’s no reason we can’t catch the 7:30 right? Until I remember my luggage. AKA, all my stuff, including my computer, textbooks, clothes, travel documents, everything.
J: What time is it??
N: 6:45.
Fuck. Luggage office closes at 7:00, and it’s in the next town over. So Meritt, being the super-nice hippie she is, offers to go (run) with me over to the next town, which is only like a 20 minute walk. Apparently they remembered the office being open til 7:30. I would have bet my life and my mother’s that it was 7:00, but I had no choice, so I was like ok let’s do it. Meritt also apparently forgot she wasn’t wearing a bra. Nicole stayed behind to man down the huge impending plate of seafood antipasti.
So we run over to the next village (in pretty good time, I’d say around 10 minutes, considering that every 30 seconds, I had to stop to look back and Meritt, and try my best to not laugh at her trying to hold her rack with one arm, while holding onto her handbag with the other), track down the woman at the luggage office, who is luckily still there and, though I’m the last person to get my luggage from the previously packed room, is very gracious. I’m thinking, great. I got all my shit, if we hop onto the next train (which come about every 15 minutes), we’ll be back to dinner and won’t have been gone more than 25 minutes. My pasta will probably be cold, but I’ll deal. If dinner takes too long, we’ll skip the obligatory Gelato, and catch the 8:50 bus.
So we walk to the train station. We look up at the departure board and can’t really understand. We ask the female attendant when the next train to Manarola is (Manarola is the next village over, where we needed to go). She said there are 2: 7:11 and 7:19. Looking around, there are two clocks. One says 7:09, one says 7:15. Whatever, we just stand at the only platform going in the direction Manarola and we hop in the first one that comes. We’re sitting down, and we can’t stop talking about Nichole. We’re hoping she’s ok, not bored, that the waiter isn’t being rude to her, etc. The train’s moving along, and all of a sudden, we get to Manarola. But it doesn’t stop. It doesn’t even slow down. The last thing I remember happening before this was Meritt staring at another woman, also without a bra, and asking me “How do you think she does it?” I assume she had huge boobs.
So as it turns out, some nice Italian man informed us that we failed to realize that the train we were on wasn’t actually stopping in Manarola. It was actually only heading in the direction of Manarola, and was a high-speed direct train to Levanto, which isn’t even a part of the Cinque Terre. Yeah. You see, the Cinque Terre is comprised of 5 villages: Riomaggiore, Manarola, Vernazza, Corniglia and Monterosso. Do you see Levanto anywhere in this list? No, because it’s out in the middle of nowhere on the far side and that woman who told us that either train would be fine didn’t understand us or was just a bitch. Or both.
So, now we’re really worried about Nichole. This super small part of me is secretly hoping that when we left, the waiter came out, asked Nichole if we’d be back, and then offered to hold up on the food until we return. I was too embarrassed to even mention this, because I knew there was zero chance of it happening. And I knew that the real issue would be Nichole. What would she do if they kicked her out? What would she do if it took us an hour to get back? We didn’t know when the next train from Levanto would be back, and hell, we didn’t know if it’d also be a direct high-speed town all the way to the OTHER side of the villages. Would she leave? Demand the table? Wait around the restaurant? Hate me forever? I knew she had a book with her, but it was just a Frommer’s Italy book, and I’m sure she had already read it cover to cover.
Meritt’s looking stressed (but also really funny holding in her boobs), and I don’t know what to do or say. I knew we’d probably have to take the 10:30 bus back and that I’d probably have to get some food somewhere else, because I’d never seen a restaurant in Europe with doggy bags, so that’d be like 15 euros wasted, which is like $100 USD. It wasn’t very good, especially considering that the first few days had gone so well!
So anyway, we’re preparing to be in this for the long haul, when, thank god, the train stops in the final village of the Cinque Terre, Monterosso. So the nice Italian guy didn’t know what he was talking about either. So we get off, and walk across the train station to the opposite side, and wait. And wait. I don’t know how long we waited but it was long enough to be like Ugh Nichole, fuck. And when the train finally comes, it’s of course not a direct train, so we have to stop in the two villages between Monterosso and Manarola.
We finally get back a little before 8:00. We had been gone for an hour and fifteen minutes. Of course, as soon as I see Nichole, I’m like ‘I’m soooo sorry! I’m soooo sorry!” and she’s like ‘Oh it’s fine!” ha. Apparently, she had time to think about what she would wear tomorrow and DID read some of the book and she people-watched. As I get close to the table, my dreams come true. The only food on the plate is the seafood appetizer, which, as it turns out, is served cold! The waiters actually did come out to ask if we were leaving and Nichole asked them to hold off on the food. I did not see that coming. I literally expected to come back to find Nichole sitting on the steps outside the restaurant, hungry and sad.
We finished eating, and, of course, had to take the 10:30 bus back, but it ended up being a pretty great stay in the Cinque Terre. Well, it was pretty good until this morning, when we woke up at 5 AM to be able to stop in this little town called Lucca for a few hours before heading to Venice, only to be woken up at 4:50 by THE LOUDEST thunder I’ve ever heard, and then drowning in what might as well have been a flash flood. It was the 2008 floods all over again in La Spezia. So anyway, the time-travelling storm kept following us all the way to Lucca, and we were just like fuck this so now we’re on the way to Venice! My shoes are still soaked, at 12:04 PM.
I didn’t even know it rained in Italy. And Nichole is sitting by Sinead O’Connor.
Love you all,
Josh A
So, yesterday was one heck of a day. After a long overnight train from Munich – Florence – La Spezia (where I lost my toothpaste and couldn’t shower in the evening or morning, though I was already soaked in hours worth of sweat) I met Meritt and her nice friend Nichole in La Spezia, just outside of the Cinque Terre. They both greeted me with huge hugs even though I was clearly not appealing.
Now, if you’ve never heard of the Cinque Terre, you need to go google image it. Right now. I’m not gonna spend much time explaining them, because that won’t do either of us any good, but once you google image it, you’ll have a good idea. I’ll just say that they’re so amazingly beautiful, I went back to them (as I went to them with Jason last year) after being in Europe only 2 days.
So anyway, I meet Meritt and Nichole, and we’re like ‘well, let’s do it.’ To experience the Cinque Terre (which you’ve presumably already googled), you walk the 7ish miles that make up the trails connecting them. They’re rugged, breathtaking and exhausting. There was no time to go back to our hostel, because our hostel might as well have been in Romania, so we went looking for luggage storage. We found it, they took it, but they said we must be back by 7:00 PM, because then they close. No one’s there to help, no lost and found, it’s closed. So, I’m thinking, no problem. It’s only 9 AM!
So we’re on the trails, busting our asses to complete the immense endeavor, and it’s fuckin hot right? On top of this, Meritt’s wearing sandals that have a bottle opener built into the bottom of them. So eventually we all want to get in the water, which is beckoning to us and is absolutely gorgeous. One problem: the girls aren’t in their swimsuits, they’re in hiking attire. We find a cove of some sort, but it’s not a public beach, so there aren’t locker rooms or whatever. There are people all around, and we happen to find a little walkway…where there aren’t too many people. But it’s fuckin hot. So, Meritt and Nichole decide to just change.
At first I was like, wow, ummmm nipple show. But then I was like, well if you’re not a guy, and you don’t have junk everywhere, it’s probably no big deal. You just stand sideways to oncoming traffic and no one’s gonna get any kind of peepshow. And then Meritt taught me how you can put a bathing suit top over a t-shirt, then take out the bra and voila! Time to swim!n So, me standing there was somewhat awkward, and I didn’t want anyone to get arrested for indecency, so I go up to this kind of lookout point above some rocks, and anytime I see someone coming, I say ‘Lasagna!’ Before I can even get up to the lookout point though, a family of four walks right by. Luckily, no one’s fully undressed yet, but there is definite unlayering of clothes and nervous glances going around. Anyway, so I get to my post. People start coming, but they’re all women. So it seems to me there’s not really any point in freaking out about this, b/c I’m sure most women on holiday at beaches are familiar with doing what ya gotta do, so I start yelling ‘Female lasagna!’ as a way to let them know they’re not gonna get raped. I don’t really know if they understood.
So anyway, we swim, and by this time it’s probably like 5:45. This was unbeknownst to me however, because the day has flown by and even though we had walked about 6 miles and explored 5 villages, it felt like 2:30. But we are thoroughly exhausted and ready to just sit. Meritt wanted to relax so badly, that she didn’t even put her bra back on after we swam (wait for it). So it’s like, “Ya know what? Let’s be super-cute and just have a great sit down meal at a nice restaurant.” We find a good place to eat, with an intriguing but affordable menu and somewhat go all out. We order a seafood appetizer plate, and all of us get a pasta entrée. Though I’m covered in 2 days worth of sweat and grime, with what I’m sure had developed into gingivitis in my mouth, AND covered in residual salt and dirt from the ocean AND wearing drippingly wet shorts I had swam in (I didn’t have my swimming suit either) and Meritt is nipping out all over the place, it’s looking like it’s gonna be a good meal. I even shell out 3 euro for a soft drink. We were considering desert and discussing gelato.
After ordering, we proceed to begin figuring out when to get back. Since our hostel is in Romania, there are only busses once every 3 days. Or a few hours. So, it comes down to 7:30, 8:50 or 10:30. My first reaction: 10:30? Last summer I don’t think Jason and I stayed up after 9:00 until our last night in Paris, before we flew out. We were so exhausted we tended to be asleep by 8:00. So I’m like, there’s no reason we can’t catch the 7:30 right? Until I remember my luggage. AKA, all my stuff, including my computer, textbooks, clothes, travel documents, everything.
J: What time is it??
N: 6:45.
Fuck. Luggage office closes at 7:00, and it’s in the next town over. So Meritt, being the super-nice hippie she is, offers to go (run) with me over to the next town, which is only like a 20 minute walk. Apparently they remembered the office being open til 7:30. I would have bet my life and my mother’s that it was 7:00, but I had no choice, so I was like ok let’s do it. Meritt also apparently forgot she wasn’t wearing a bra. Nicole stayed behind to man down the huge impending plate of seafood antipasti.
So we run over to the next village (in pretty good time, I’d say around 10 minutes, considering that every 30 seconds, I had to stop to look back and Meritt, and try my best to not laugh at her trying to hold her rack with one arm, while holding onto her handbag with the other), track down the woman at the luggage office, who is luckily still there and, though I’m the last person to get my luggage from the previously packed room, is very gracious. I’m thinking, great. I got all my shit, if we hop onto the next train (which come about every 15 minutes), we’ll be back to dinner and won’t have been gone more than 25 minutes. My pasta will probably be cold, but I’ll deal. If dinner takes too long, we’ll skip the obligatory Gelato, and catch the 8:50 bus.
So we walk to the train station. We look up at the departure board and can’t really understand. We ask the female attendant when the next train to Manarola is (Manarola is the next village over, where we needed to go). She said there are 2: 7:11 and 7:19. Looking around, there are two clocks. One says 7:09, one says 7:15. Whatever, we just stand at the only platform going in the direction Manarola and we hop in the first one that comes. We’re sitting down, and we can’t stop talking about Nichole. We’re hoping she’s ok, not bored, that the waiter isn’t being rude to her, etc. The train’s moving along, and all of a sudden, we get to Manarola. But it doesn’t stop. It doesn’t even slow down. The last thing I remember happening before this was Meritt staring at another woman, also without a bra, and asking me “How do you think she does it?” I assume she had huge boobs.
So as it turns out, some nice Italian man informed us that we failed to realize that the train we were on wasn’t actually stopping in Manarola. It was actually only heading in the direction of Manarola, and was a high-speed direct train to Levanto, which isn’t even a part of the Cinque Terre. Yeah. You see, the Cinque Terre is comprised of 5 villages: Riomaggiore, Manarola, Vernazza, Corniglia and Monterosso. Do you see Levanto anywhere in this list? No, because it’s out in the middle of nowhere on the far side and that woman who told us that either train would be fine didn’t understand us or was just a bitch. Or both.
So, now we’re really worried about Nichole. This super small part of me is secretly hoping that when we left, the waiter came out, asked Nichole if we’d be back, and then offered to hold up on the food until we return. I was too embarrassed to even mention this, because I knew there was zero chance of it happening. And I knew that the real issue would be Nichole. What would she do if they kicked her out? What would she do if it took us an hour to get back? We didn’t know when the next train from Levanto would be back, and hell, we didn’t know if it’d also be a direct high-speed town all the way to the OTHER side of the villages. Would she leave? Demand the table? Wait around the restaurant? Hate me forever? I knew she had a book with her, but it was just a Frommer’s Italy book, and I’m sure she had already read it cover to cover.
Meritt’s looking stressed (but also really funny holding in her boobs), and I don’t know what to do or say. I knew we’d probably have to take the 10:30 bus back and that I’d probably have to get some food somewhere else, because I’d never seen a restaurant in Europe with doggy bags, so that’d be like 15 euros wasted, which is like $100 USD. It wasn’t very good, especially considering that the first few days had gone so well!
So anyway, we’re preparing to be in this for the long haul, when, thank god, the train stops in the final village of the Cinque Terre, Monterosso. So the nice Italian guy didn’t know what he was talking about either. So we get off, and walk across the train station to the opposite side, and wait. And wait. I don’t know how long we waited but it was long enough to be like Ugh Nichole, fuck. And when the train finally comes, it’s of course not a direct train, so we have to stop in the two villages between Monterosso and Manarola.
We finally get back a little before 8:00. We had been gone for an hour and fifteen minutes. Of course, as soon as I see Nichole, I’m like ‘I’m soooo sorry! I’m soooo sorry!” and she’s like ‘Oh it’s fine!” ha. Apparently, she had time to think about what she would wear tomorrow and DID read some of the book and she people-watched. As I get close to the table, my dreams come true. The only food on the plate is the seafood appetizer, which, as it turns out, is served cold! The waiters actually did come out to ask if we were leaving and Nichole asked them to hold off on the food. I did not see that coming. I literally expected to come back to find Nichole sitting on the steps outside the restaurant, hungry and sad.
We finished eating, and, of course, had to take the 10:30 bus back, but it ended up being a pretty great stay in the Cinque Terre. Well, it was pretty good until this morning, when we woke up at 5 AM to be able to stop in this little town called Lucca for a few hours before heading to Venice, only to be woken up at 4:50 by THE LOUDEST thunder I’ve ever heard, and then drowning in what might as well have been a flash flood. It was the 2008 floods all over again in La Spezia. So anyway, the time-travelling storm kept following us all the way to Lucca, and we were just like fuck this so now we’re on the way to Venice! My shoes are still soaked, at 12:04 PM.
I didn’t even know it rained in Italy. And Nichole is sitting by Sinead O’Connor.
Love you all,
Josh A
Random Thought: 04
this was written on August 12th at 7:30 AM
Hola!
An aussie just called me mate. I am currently on my way to La Spezia from Firenze. I just got off a fucking night train. I hate night trains. I have to take one more in like 3 days and it’s gonna be so stupid. All that bullshit you read about waking up refreshed and ready for your day? Don’t trust it. Don’t trust Rick Steves, don’t trust the fun little pictures of old people tucking each other in on the train, don’t trust your mom! It’s dumb. Thankfully, the train I just exited had air conditioning, so that was a plus…but it doesn’t make up for the tiiiiiiiny little foot and a half you half of room to lay in, or the 3 inches of wiggle room your feet have. And I’m like, the shortest smurf in the world.
So anyway, the last two days, I might as well have been staying at a place Hansel and Gretel land. Or better yet, the Sound of Music land. Like, imagine that scene where Julie Andrews is singing The Hills are Alive (god that just reminds me of The Hills Have Eyes), and I was there. It was all great, and as of yet, I’ve yet to experience a major hitch. Literally everything has gone right or very very well. I’ve made every train, I’ve arrived on time, I’ve found my hostel, etc. It’s like god’s watching out for me. Or Buddha. Maybe they’re the same thing.
However, I’ve spent way too much fucking money. Not even out of necessity. I just haven’t been willing to spend 5 more minutes looking for cheaper food. And I really wanted to spend 8 euro to get online on that train. I know. If this keeps up, that whole coming back early might not be a choice, but the only thing I can do to stay afloat. At least if I came back early I could work more.
Cross your fingers for me!
So, unless you are Jason, you probably don’t know that I love Germany. I was only there 2 days, and all I saw was this quaint little town with a couple of castles, but I loved it! I took a train in Munich and was only there for 1 hour, but instantly wanted to see anything and everything it had to offer. Soooo I might just switch around my entire itinerary and come back to Germany again! I guess I really want to go to Berlin, and see Postdam, and go to Munich again, and go to Dachau, and shit son just do everything! And I could see Nadine. But I would have to give up Istanbul.
See, it’s hard. Because I’ve learned that you really do have to trust Rick Steves on some things, particularly, travelling with the attitude that you’ll return. It’s hard for me to do that, because I’m so now or never. With everything. That’s what I meant earlier when I said that I’m prone to literally do whatever it takes to make sure my life is how I want it. Anytime I’m faced with a major decision, I look at it as now or never. This is why I’m with Jason now, why I’ve planned such a long and drawn out trip for myself, why I’ve changed my major six times, why I’m so willing to just up and quit a job if I don’t like it, and why, for the longest time, I was very apprehensive about taking a year off before grad school. Not going to grad school right away stands right in the way of my now or never philosophy.
It all comes down to the question “What if I’m dead in a year?” Ya know? Like, if I’m lying on my deathbed in one year, will I be satisfied with my life? Will I have regrets? What is 2012 is for REAL?!?! And we are all forced to face our mortality for the months leading up to it as we prepare for whatever catastrophic event is upon us. Will I be able to sit back and say “Ya know what? This is great. I have made the best use I can out of 100% of my time on this earth, or damn near close to it”?? Not if I was stuck in some job I hate making photocopies for 8 hours a day. Not if I was still a music major. And not if I had given up going abroad because I was scared. Thankfully, this has usually worked out for me.
Except now? Both this year and last year, my itineraries were totally packed to the brim with stops, overnight trains to save time, and ultimately, cutting out really cool things in some cities so that I could experience something new elsewhere. If it comes down to an extra day in the same place, or one day somewhere new, I always pick the latter. I fully realize I need to stop it. While I was planning it out and making reservations for a different hotel each night, I could hear this tiny, high-pitched voice in the back of my head saying ‘Don’t do iiiiiit, don’t do iiiiit, that’s gonna suck and you’re gonna be tired, you’re not gonna wanna leave, don’t do iiiiiiit.’ But what did I do? I did it. Last summer, I learned that it was stupid, and we changed up our plans for a few different reasons, so that trip was far less crazy than this one. For now.
Ugh! Should I go to Istanbul? I’ve wanted to for so long, and I’ve even taken an (accelerated) year of Turkish! But Germany seems so…new…and it’s right here. I wouldn’t have to take 12 hour trains/busses through Belgrade and Sofia, doing hardly anything along the way. Fuck. I don’t know. If I follow Rick Steves’s advice, it’s safe to assume that I will return and I will go to Istanbul someday. And this makes sense, because there is literally like one year’s worth of things to see and do in Turkey. It makes Italy look like a day at the zoo. I really should just come back someday and do it all at once.
The idea of taking a bunch of busses and trains and dealing with border crossings and other annoyances to get there isn’t quite so jarring when I think of taking a trip someday that isn’t a month. Ya know? Like I forget that most people only take a week or two of vacation lol. Like, the idea of spending a few days in Istanbul and taking maybe one bus or train to Romania over a week or isn’t ridiculous. Or scary. Or anything like that. But when I put the idea of even spending a few days there, amid all the other places I’m going on my trip, trying to fit in so much in so little time, it’s just stressful. But what if I’m dead in a year?!
To be fair, a lot of my motivation to want to do so much comes from this persona I want to project. Like, when people think of me as a person, I want them to think of someone who isn’t afraid to take risks. I want them to think of someone who doesn’t care what people think and does what he has to, to be happy. Someone who makes their life what they want it to be. Someone who thinks outside the box, takes the road less traveled. I think it’s because I get so frustrated with other people whining about their lives and not doing anything about it, that I want to just yell at them and tell them to stop being such huge babies! Like, ok are you upset with your friend? Fucking talk to them. Do you wish you had a different job? Quit your fucking job. Don’t like your major? Change your fucking major. Do you really want to move? Move! Do you want to someday go to Australia! Make it happen! If you don’t like your new major, change it back. If you can’t go to Australia, big deal, at least you tried.
Because of this attitude, I feel so pressed to actually live this way. I don’t always, and when I don’t, I really let myself have it. I come down really hard on myself, because what would people think if they knew I was taking the easy wa out? That was also part of the impetus for coming to Europe. It was like, god if people knew that I actually gave up this trip so I could spend a few more months going to Chili’s with Jason, they would probably think I was really fucking pathetic. And I would be pathetic! While I usually strive to not give a damn what people think (and 95% of the time, I honestly don’t), when it comes to issues that are so central to my identity, it’s really hard. Though I still realize that if I REALLY don’t want to care what people think, then I STILL should just do whatever I want and FUCK anyone and everyone who thinks anything negative about me and that even if something SEEMS like it’s me making a decision that goes against my principles, it doesn’t matter because it’s MY decision and only I know what is best for me. Though I know that in many ways it doesn’t matter because no one reads this and no one remembers where I’ve told them I’m going haha.
It’s kind of a paradox and I go round and round with it. Because I do want to live up to the principles I wax poetic about. Anyway my point is that if I did end up giving up Istanbul because I’m scared to make it there, or (on a larger scale) if I even ended up coming home early or something, even if it was because I was miserable or sick, I would honestly be really embarrassed about it, because I would be afraid of people thinking I was a huge baby. Or that I wasn’t the independent traveler I have described to people in such depth, who isn’t afraid to go to Eastern Europe or hack it alone on night-trains. I want people to think of me as someone doesn’t go where everyone else goes, who has explored poorer regions of the world without hesitation. And that’s somewhat fair, because it’s true. I DO really want to go to Istanbul. I DO really want to visit Russia and Romania and Africa and Thailand and Vietnam. All of them. But I think I need to realize that it’s ok if I don’t do all of it right now. Yes, I might be dead in a year, but I might also live to be 115. I could be the oldest person on the planet someday. Ya know how many free cruises I’ll get if I’m that guy?
Anyway, this all comes down to a certain point: in many ways, I almost feel like I should just stay in Western Europe, doing the easy thing, or even come home early down the road, because they might be the best thing for me to do overall. Though they seem like the easy choices, for me they’re also very hard choices. This whole trip is about being more independent, experiencing new emotions and being outside my comfort zone. These are all good things. Every single time I get slightly stressed or confused, I remind myself that it’s ok. Change is good. I am in no danger anywhere I may go and there is no reason to be stressed, other than that I am in an unfamiliar situation. Having to come back and really trying to be ok with my choices would be the biggest and perhaps most rewarding challenge yet.
I do realize that changing my plans to suit my needs should be exactly what I do if that’s what I need to be comfortable and happy, and fuck anyone who would judge me for it. Honestly, coming home early if I needed to would be the biggest step yet toward really trying to be at ease with myself and who I really am. And when I say coming home early, I mean a month early, not coming home next week. I will definitely absolutely be gone for at least 2 months, because I’m not giving up any Europe, regardless of how lonely I am, because it’s all too exciting, and volunteering in India is too important to give up, for so many reasons (I got $1400 worth of vaccinations, people donated over $900 so I could do it, it’s essential for grad school experience, and I’m actually doing something for someone else for once, etc).
I just mean that if 2 months from now, after volunteering, I’m not exactly feeling up to another month of solo travelling (around India, as planned), I really hope that I’m able to make the choices I need to make to be happy. And I hope I’m able to live with my choices. You see, after my initial failed trip abroad, I literally spent the entire following YEAR only ever talking about going to Europe. While half of this was because I really did want to go and because I wanted to see everything, half was because I had failed. I don’t like to fail, and when I do, as I said before, I come down hard on myself. So I planned something bigger and better. It worked out. But I still had things to do and places to see. Here I am again. If I choose to change my plans, in many ways I’ll have “failed”, by my definition, even if I know that I’m happier with my new choices. And though I may be able to be happy in the short term, I don’t want to end up back in the US, not letting myself forget it.
Because there’s nothing wrong with not wanting to spend a month alone in India! There’s nothing wrong with wanting to take it easy in Germany! I fully realize that…but it’s hard to admit, as I’ve built up this idea of myself as a brave, independent, confident person who can and will do anything he puts his mind to. Only backpacking across Europe for a second time and only volunteering in India for a month and completing a research project that I got a $3000 grant for isn’t exactly something to scoff at. And I’ll forever be proud of myself for it. Or at least I should be. This might all just be a moot point though, as my aforementioned financial situation might make these decisions for me, and everyday I am becoming more and more comfortable on this continent, so I may end up having to take numerous actions to maximize/extend my stay abroad.
Can I just say one thing though? Regardless of what happens, I’m so proud of the person I’ve become over the past few years. 2.5 years ago, I was supposed to be heading out on a trip to go abroad all across Europe. It didn’t work out for like 50 different reasons (mostly boiling down to the fact that I was too lazy and too much of a chicken to make it all work out), but at the beginning of the (organized, study abroad) trip, we were supposed to fly into London, take the a regional train out to some suburb and then wait at a youth hostel for the rest of the gang to arrive.
They might as well have told me I was meeting them at a fucking pup tent off a gravel road in the middle of the Rwandan jungle.
I’m serious, this thought was so scary to me. Like, having to get on a train, by myself?!? With all my stuff?! In the middle of….LONDON!? The richest city in the world, where everything’s super nice, in English, convenient and probably extremely safe?! How can they expect this of me?
I’m not even kidding. The thought of that solo train-ride was so scary to me. I don’t even…whatever. It’s no surprise I didn’t go. But let me just say this: I am so proud of the fact that I’m such a completely different person now, that no matter what happens to me on this trip, I’m at least glad I’m no longer so small-town or so scared or so pathetic that I can’t even spend 1 day alone. In London. Wait, not even in London, in the super-rich suburbs.
Anyway, I still don’t know what to do. Istanbul and environs or a return Germany? I do know that I’m going to be hanging out with Meritt for the next 3 days though, so I’m not sure if I’ll have time to update much, especially if we go cliff-diving like she wants (aah!) and I end up in the hospital.
Irregardless, this has been fun :) Except for the fact that I am DISGUSTING after that night train. And I lost my toothpaste. Yup, it’s gross.
- Josh A
Hola!
An aussie just called me mate. I am currently on my way to La Spezia from Firenze. I just got off a fucking night train. I hate night trains. I have to take one more in like 3 days and it’s gonna be so stupid. All that bullshit you read about waking up refreshed and ready for your day? Don’t trust it. Don’t trust Rick Steves, don’t trust the fun little pictures of old people tucking each other in on the train, don’t trust your mom! It’s dumb. Thankfully, the train I just exited had air conditioning, so that was a plus…but it doesn’t make up for the tiiiiiiiny little foot and a half you half of room to lay in, or the 3 inches of wiggle room your feet have. And I’m like, the shortest smurf in the world.
So anyway, the last two days, I might as well have been staying at a place Hansel and Gretel land. Or better yet, the Sound of Music land. Like, imagine that scene where Julie Andrews is singing The Hills are Alive (god that just reminds me of The Hills Have Eyes), and I was there. It was all great, and as of yet, I’ve yet to experience a major hitch. Literally everything has gone right or very very well. I’ve made every train, I’ve arrived on time, I’ve found my hostel, etc. It’s like god’s watching out for me. Or Buddha. Maybe they’re the same thing.
However, I’ve spent way too much fucking money. Not even out of necessity. I just haven’t been willing to spend 5 more minutes looking for cheaper food. And I really wanted to spend 8 euro to get online on that train. I know. If this keeps up, that whole coming back early might not be a choice, but the only thing I can do to stay afloat. At least if I came back early I could work more.
Cross your fingers for me!
So, unless you are Jason, you probably don’t know that I love Germany. I was only there 2 days, and all I saw was this quaint little town with a couple of castles, but I loved it! I took a train in Munich and was only there for 1 hour, but instantly wanted to see anything and everything it had to offer. Soooo I might just switch around my entire itinerary and come back to Germany again! I guess I really want to go to Berlin, and see Postdam, and go to Munich again, and go to Dachau, and shit son just do everything! And I could see Nadine. But I would have to give up Istanbul.
See, it’s hard. Because I’ve learned that you really do have to trust Rick Steves on some things, particularly, travelling with the attitude that you’ll return. It’s hard for me to do that, because I’m so now or never. With everything. That’s what I meant earlier when I said that I’m prone to literally do whatever it takes to make sure my life is how I want it. Anytime I’m faced with a major decision, I look at it as now or never. This is why I’m with Jason now, why I’ve planned such a long and drawn out trip for myself, why I’ve changed my major six times, why I’m so willing to just up and quit a job if I don’t like it, and why, for the longest time, I was very apprehensive about taking a year off before grad school. Not going to grad school right away stands right in the way of my now or never philosophy.
It all comes down to the question “What if I’m dead in a year?” Ya know? Like, if I’m lying on my deathbed in one year, will I be satisfied with my life? Will I have regrets? What is 2012 is for REAL?!?! And we are all forced to face our mortality for the months leading up to it as we prepare for whatever catastrophic event is upon us. Will I be able to sit back and say “Ya know what? This is great. I have made the best use I can out of 100% of my time on this earth, or damn near close to it”?? Not if I was stuck in some job I hate making photocopies for 8 hours a day. Not if I was still a music major. And not if I had given up going abroad because I was scared. Thankfully, this has usually worked out for me.
Except now? Both this year and last year, my itineraries were totally packed to the brim with stops, overnight trains to save time, and ultimately, cutting out really cool things in some cities so that I could experience something new elsewhere. If it comes down to an extra day in the same place, or one day somewhere new, I always pick the latter. I fully realize I need to stop it. While I was planning it out and making reservations for a different hotel each night, I could hear this tiny, high-pitched voice in the back of my head saying ‘Don’t do iiiiiit, don’t do iiiiit, that’s gonna suck and you’re gonna be tired, you’re not gonna wanna leave, don’t do iiiiiiit.’ But what did I do? I did it. Last summer, I learned that it was stupid, and we changed up our plans for a few different reasons, so that trip was far less crazy than this one. For now.
Ugh! Should I go to Istanbul? I’ve wanted to for so long, and I’ve even taken an (accelerated) year of Turkish! But Germany seems so…new…and it’s right here. I wouldn’t have to take 12 hour trains/busses through Belgrade and Sofia, doing hardly anything along the way. Fuck. I don’t know. If I follow Rick Steves’s advice, it’s safe to assume that I will return and I will go to Istanbul someday. And this makes sense, because there is literally like one year’s worth of things to see and do in Turkey. It makes Italy look like a day at the zoo. I really should just come back someday and do it all at once.
The idea of taking a bunch of busses and trains and dealing with border crossings and other annoyances to get there isn’t quite so jarring when I think of taking a trip someday that isn’t a month. Ya know? Like I forget that most people only take a week or two of vacation lol. Like, the idea of spending a few days in Istanbul and taking maybe one bus or train to Romania over a week or isn’t ridiculous. Or scary. Or anything like that. But when I put the idea of even spending a few days there, amid all the other places I’m going on my trip, trying to fit in so much in so little time, it’s just stressful. But what if I’m dead in a year?!
To be fair, a lot of my motivation to want to do so much comes from this persona I want to project. Like, when people think of me as a person, I want them to think of someone who isn’t afraid to take risks. I want them to think of someone who doesn’t care what people think and does what he has to, to be happy. Someone who makes their life what they want it to be. Someone who thinks outside the box, takes the road less traveled. I think it’s because I get so frustrated with other people whining about their lives and not doing anything about it, that I want to just yell at them and tell them to stop being such huge babies! Like, ok are you upset with your friend? Fucking talk to them. Do you wish you had a different job? Quit your fucking job. Don’t like your major? Change your fucking major. Do you really want to move? Move! Do you want to someday go to Australia! Make it happen! If you don’t like your new major, change it back. If you can’t go to Australia, big deal, at least you tried.
Because of this attitude, I feel so pressed to actually live this way. I don’t always, and when I don’t, I really let myself have it. I come down really hard on myself, because what would people think if they knew I was taking the easy wa out? That was also part of the impetus for coming to Europe. It was like, god if people knew that I actually gave up this trip so I could spend a few more months going to Chili’s with Jason, they would probably think I was really fucking pathetic. And I would be pathetic! While I usually strive to not give a damn what people think (and 95% of the time, I honestly don’t), when it comes to issues that are so central to my identity, it’s really hard. Though I still realize that if I REALLY don’t want to care what people think, then I STILL should just do whatever I want and FUCK anyone and everyone who thinks anything negative about me and that even if something SEEMS like it’s me making a decision that goes against my principles, it doesn’t matter because it’s MY decision and only I know what is best for me. Though I know that in many ways it doesn’t matter because no one reads this and no one remembers where I’ve told them I’m going haha.
It’s kind of a paradox and I go round and round with it. Because I do want to live up to the principles I wax poetic about. Anyway my point is that if I did end up giving up Istanbul because I’m scared to make it there, or (on a larger scale) if I even ended up coming home early or something, even if it was because I was miserable or sick, I would honestly be really embarrassed about it, because I would be afraid of people thinking I was a huge baby. Or that I wasn’t the independent traveler I have described to people in such depth, who isn’t afraid to go to Eastern Europe or hack it alone on night-trains. I want people to think of me as someone doesn’t go where everyone else goes, who has explored poorer regions of the world without hesitation. And that’s somewhat fair, because it’s true. I DO really want to go to Istanbul. I DO really want to visit Russia and Romania and Africa and Thailand and Vietnam. All of them. But I think I need to realize that it’s ok if I don’t do all of it right now. Yes, I might be dead in a year, but I might also live to be 115. I could be the oldest person on the planet someday. Ya know how many free cruises I’ll get if I’m that guy?
Anyway, this all comes down to a certain point: in many ways, I almost feel like I should just stay in Western Europe, doing the easy thing, or even come home early down the road, because they might be the best thing for me to do overall. Though they seem like the easy choices, for me they’re also very hard choices. This whole trip is about being more independent, experiencing new emotions and being outside my comfort zone. These are all good things. Every single time I get slightly stressed or confused, I remind myself that it’s ok. Change is good. I am in no danger anywhere I may go and there is no reason to be stressed, other than that I am in an unfamiliar situation. Having to come back and really trying to be ok with my choices would be the biggest and perhaps most rewarding challenge yet.
I do realize that changing my plans to suit my needs should be exactly what I do if that’s what I need to be comfortable and happy, and fuck anyone who would judge me for it. Honestly, coming home early if I needed to would be the biggest step yet toward really trying to be at ease with myself and who I really am. And when I say coming home early, I mean a month early, not coming home next week. I will definitely absolutely be gone for at least 2 months, because I’m not giving up any Europe, regardless of how lonely I am, because it’s all too exciting, and volunteering in India is too important to give up, for so many reasons (I got $1400 worth of vaccinations, people donated over $900 so I could do it, it’s essential for grad school experience, and I’m actually doing something for someone else for once, etc).
I just mean that if 2 months from now, after volunteering, I’m not exactly feeling up to another month of solo travelling (around India, as planned), I really hope that I’m able to make the choices I need to make to be happy. And I hope I’m able to live with my choices. You see, after my initial failed trip abroad, I literally spent the entire following YEAR only ever talking about going to Europe. While half of this was because I really did want to go and because I wanted to see everything, half was because I had failed. I don’t like to fail, and when I do, as I said before, I come down hard on myself. So I planned something bigger and better. It worked out. But I still had things to do and places to see. Here I am again. If I choose to change my plans, in many ways I’ll have “failed”, by my definition, even if I know that I’m happier with my new choices. And though I may be able to be happy in the short term, I don’t want to end up back in the US, not letting myself forget it.
Because there’s nothing wrong with not wanting to spend a month alone in India! There’s nothing wrong with wanting to take it easy in Germany! I fully realize that…but it’s hard to admit, as I’ve built up this idea of myself as a brave, independent, confident person who can and will do anything he puts his mind to. Only backpacking across Europe for a second time and only volunteering in India for a month and completing a research project that I got a $3000 grant for isn’t exactly something to scoff at. And I’ll forever be proud of myself for it. Or at least I should be. This might all just be a moot point though, as my aforementioned financial situation might make these decisions for me, and everyday I am becoming more and more comfortable on this continent, so I may end up having to take numerous actions to maximize/extend my stay abroad.
Can I just say one thing though? Regardless of what happens, I’m so proud of the person I’ve become over the past few years. 2.5 years ago, I was supposed to be heading out on a trip to go abroad all across Europe. It didn’t work out for like 50 different reasons (mostly boiling down to the fact that I was too lazy and too much of a chicken to make it all work out), but at the beginning of the (organized, study abroad) trip, we were supposed to fly into London, take the a regional train out to some suburb and then wait at a youth hostel for the rest of the gang to arrive.
They might as well have told me I was meeting them at a fucking pup tent off a gravel road in the middle of the Rwandan jungle.
I’m serious, this thought was so scary to me. Like, having to get on a train, by myself?!? With all my stuff?! In the middle of….LONDON!? The richest city in the world, where everything’s super nice, in English, convenient and probably extremely safe?! How can they expect this of me?
I’m not even kidding. The thought of that solo train-ride was so scary to me. I don’t even…whatever. It’s no surprise I didn’t go. But let me just say this: I am so proud of the fact that I’m such a completely different person now, that no matter what happens to me on this trip, I’m at least glad I’m no longer so small-town or so scared or so pathetic that I can’t even spend 1 day alone. In London. Wait, not even in London, in the super-rich suburbs.
Anyway, I still don’t know what to do. Istanbul and environs or a return Germany? I do know that I’m going to be hanging out with Meritt for the next 3 days though, so I’m not sure if I’ll have time to update much, especially if we go cliff-diving like she wants (aah!) and I end up in the hospital.
Irregardless, this has been fun :) Except for the fact that I am DISGUSTING after that night train. And I lost my toothpaste. Yup, it’s gross.
- Josh A
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