Hello beautiful was one of the few phrases I gathered from our weekend in Tuscany. I never thought I'd see it, but Italy was pretty much amazing. It was nice as well to have a large group of us together on a trip. We meet the sweetest little woman upon our arrival, Marta. She even came to retrieve us when were lost. She gave us a good ol' fashion Italian welcome, at least the way I would imagine it.
After the night we spent the day exploring Florence. It was lots of roaming around the city; but of course we indulge in some of the local pleasantries. I'm pretty I had three different gelatos in the same day,and two of these included two flavors. I also had a good amount of pizza as well. Lastly, of course we had to hit up the local markets. Some people go for the gifts or the shopping, but it's safe to say I travel for the food. I just love trying the dishes the local area is most known for.
Some of us even took a quick trip to Venice. It was simply breath taking. I've always wanted to see a gondola. Seeing it and the streets of water made my month.
Getting back on the other had was completely on the opposite side of the scale. It was an adventure all on it's own. I have never felt so many emotions all at once- fear, anxiety, happiness..etc. We hopped trains, and joined in the everyday chase the train Olympics.
I enjoyed the trip. I took a chunk of Italy, (mostly in my belly), and it took chunks out of me in a number of ways.
---Ciao
11/09/2011
Time's a Wasting..
This has been the wackiest 24 hours of my life, well at least the European one. At first my initial idea for this blog was to speak about all the time I seem to be wasting. We discussed in class the difference between the European lifestyle, and the American one.
American's are consistently on the go, moving, moving, moving. I guess in this instance, I am the most American. In my normal everyday life at home I have very little free time. The funny thing about that is I like it that way. At first being here it was so nice to take a break: stroll around the park, eat a six hour meal, or just be "french". But after a while I started to feel like time was rolling and I wasn't going with it.
For example some of these places/ events I'm expected to attend. Some of these things I have, "Art of Travel" Syndrome. This is my own diagnosis of course but I really feel the words of the book here. The same passage comes to mind. I am literally in two places at once. My body is sitting in that seat, staring at the speaker, but my mind isn't there. Maybe I'm over thinking it, but I just don't see how these things are applying to me. I just sit there and attempt to look interested. I just feel like I'm wasting so much time.
And today just added to that, with this french course. I feel so bad for our professor, hope he's ok. But even in the beginning prior to him beginning there still wasting more time. Maybe one day I'll loo back on this one day and some how appreciate it. But right now I will say, I'm over it.
American's are consistently on the go, moving, moving, moving. I guess in this instance, I am the most American. In my normal everyday life at home I have very little free time. The funny thing about that is I like it that way. At first being here it was so nice to take a break: stroll around the park, eat a six hour meal, or just be "french". But after a while I started to feel like time was rolling and I wasn't going with it.
For example some of these places/ events I'm expected to attend. Some of these things I have, "Art of Travel" Syndrome. This is my own diagnosis of course but I really feel the words of the book here. The same passage comes to mind. I am literally in two places at once. My body is sitting in that seat, staring at the speaker, but my mind isn't there. Maybe I'm over thinking it, but I just don't see how these things are applying to me. I just sit there and attempt to look interested. I just feel like I'm wasting so much time.
And today just added to that, with this french course. I feel so bad for our professor, hope he's ok. But even in the beginning prior to him beginning there still wasting more time. Maybe one day I'll loo back on this one day and some how appreciate it. But right now I will say, I'm over it.
11/08/2011
A "Real" Visit
"Perhaps Juliette's life could have been different if the meetings which have decided its course had been less silent, superficial, or routine, if more thoughts had been exchanged, if humanity had been able to show itself in them (6)." - Theodore Zeldin, An Intimate History of Humanity
This quote was one that really stuck with me way back when I first started my second book, but became really something last week when I was in Budapest.
Let us begin with a story. I have a cousin named Bela. He is Hungarian, and around 40 years old. He was born in a small Romanian town outside Oradea, and had what you may call an interesting life. Being born in 1970, Romania was an interesting place to say the least. At an age of around 17, he and his new wife decided to flee. I don't know the whole story, but I do know that they ended up separated at some point and reunited in Austria. The point is that Bela has expereinced some tough stuff growing up in a part of the world that was ironically largely forgotten after it ceased to be the "enemy."
That is an all-too-brief history of Bela, who was the reason we were traveling to Budapest. I am of Hungarian descent, and my family is in contact with Bela, so I decided to let him know I was visiting Budapest. I expected a dinner maybe, but that was it. Was I ever wrong. . .
Bela and family went out of their way to tend to our every need! He drove us around, showed us the sights, told us where was good to eat, and even invited us to his own home for a dinner (which honestly was more of a feast!) This was one of the greatest shows of hospitality I have ever seen!
But, despite all of that, what really stuck with me was how open and honest Bela was. He was willing and eager to talk about anything and everything. One example is this, I mentioned that I could see why my family went from Hungary to West Virginia because the landscape is so similar, to which he responded "yes, but you have to realize that things here were really terrible." I responded with a typical English response, " I imagine." His response really made me think. He simply said, "No, you can't imagine. I was a young man of 18 when the Russians left, you can't have any idea how terrible it was. It is impossible for you to imagine it."
Wow. That honesty with me, merely a distant (very distant) cousin, that was really something to me. Having lived through something like that made him really appreciate everything he had, I mean genuinely appreciate it. It was so refreshing to talk to someone so genuinely thankful.
It got me thinking, I need to make sure to get something meaningful like that out of all of my trips. What use is there in going somewhere and just exchanging pleasantries with everyone, I would get so much more out of it if I bonded with those I was traveling with, or strangers, or whoever. Trips would be that much better if nothing was "silent, superficial, or routine."
This quote was one that really stuck with me way back when I first started my second book, but became really something last week when I was in Budapest.
Let us begin with a story. I have a cousin named Bela. He is Hungarian, and around 40 years old. He was born in a small Romanian town outside Oradea, and had what you may call an interesting life. Being born in 1970, Romania was an interesting place to say the least. At an age of around 17, he and his new wife decided to flee. I don't know the whole story, but I do know that they ended up separated at some point and reunited in Austria. The point is that Bela has expereinced some tough stuff growing up in a part of the world that was ironically largely forgotten after it ceased to be the "enemy."
That is an all-too-brief history of Bela, who was the reason we were traveling to Budapest. I am of Hungarian descent, and my family is in contact with Bela, so I decided to let him know I was visiting Budapest. I expected a dinner maybe, but that was it. Was I ever wrong. . .
Bela and family went out of their way to tend to our every need! He drove us around, showed us the sights, told us where was good to eat, and even invited us to his own home for a dinner (which honestly was more of a feast!) This was one of the greatest shows of hospitality I have ever seen!
But, despite all of that, what really stuck with me was how open and honest Bela was. He was willing and eager to talk about anything and everything. One example is this, I mentioned that I could see why my family went from Hungary to West Virginia because the landscape is so similar, to which he responded "yes, but you have to realize that things here were really terrible." I responded with a typical English response, " I imagine." His response really made me think. He simply said, "No, you can't imagine. I was a young man of 18 when the Russians left, you can't have any idea how terrible it was. It is impossible for you to imagine it."
Wow. That honesty with me, merely a distant (very distant) cousin, that was really something to me. Having lived through something like that made him really appreciate everything he had, I mean genuinely appreciate it. It was so refreshing to talk to someone so genuinely thankful.
It got me thinking, I need to make sure to get something meaningful like that out of all of my trips. What use is there in going somewhere and just exchanging pleasantries with everyone, I would get so much more out of it if I bonded with those I was traveling with, or strangers, or whoever. Trips would be that much better if nothing was "silent, superficial, or routine."
11/07/2011
My blog from last week
I am on a train from Amsterdam to Strasbourg and I am ready to be back even though this week has been awesome. This has been my longest trip since I have been to Europe and it has been the most exhausting. We began in Luxembourg, and then went to Brussels, Bruges, and finally Amsterdam. The first part of the week consisted of visiting European Institutions which was very interesting. I feel like I learned a lot more about each one despite having read many articles about each of them. Unfortunately, I feel like that week was one in which some people in our group needed space from others which is why the five days I spent in Bruges and Amsterdam were extra enjoyable.
I went to Bruges with Jessica, Maria, and Genevieve. We walked all over the city and did much more than we expected to do which was nice. However, in Amsterdam, I feel like I didn’t do much at all due to general lethargy and lack of understanding of the public transport system. Jessica and I did go to some museums, good restaurants, and bars which was a lot of fun. Amsterdam would be a lot more interesting if it wasn’t so touristy. The red light district was fun to walk around but there were so many people that it was hard to get around the souvenir shops. I am glad to say that I am over all of the touristy parts of Europe and enjoy trying some of the things I think the locals would do.
-Rachel Cooper
Second Time's the Charm
This weekend I traveled to Florence, Italy. I had been there once before, when I was 15. My memories of this day-trip to Florence were not pleasant. It involved being over 100 degrees and going on a long, boring tour around the city. Things like the Statue of David were memorable, but what was more memorable was standing in line for David and trying not to faint from heat exhaustion. I remember being so tried that when we were finally given free time (for at the time I was part of a student group), I just sat in a square and watched the mimes, desperate to leave what I was now finding a godforsaken place. For a couple years after this trip, I would think of the heat of Florence whenever I was freezing cold. Just thinking of the heat was enough to make me feel warmer.
With this description of the trip in mind, it seems funny that I would decide to go back there, particularly for the weekend of my birthday. Originally, I wanted nothing to do with going back to Florence—or even anywhere in Europe I have already been. However, I realized that I should give Florence a second chance. After all, if everyone raves about a place, it’s strange that I wouldn’t enjoy it. I’m not some European hipster traveler. If I hear something fantastic about a place, and then go to it, I enjoy it. Florence was the only exception to this rule. I also figured that it was be interesting to see a place through slightly more mature and changed eyes.
I’m quite glad I gave myself the chance to re-explore Florence. I enjoyed it much more the second time around. I realized upon coming back that I had forgotten many parts of the city, and some things I had stored in my memory weren’t necessarily correct. Being in Florence again made me realize the importance of not relying on first impressions when it comes to traveling. While first impressions are helpful, looking more deeply can help you truly discover a place.
11/06/2011
Sterile Nails and Thunderbowels
I've literally been staring at this blank text box for fifteen minutes, so I guess this sentence is the best jumping off point that I can offer. BAM! Inspiration...nope, still not there.
Let's see...my week...this week...hmmmm...
God this going to go badly...
It's cool, Tyler. Just go with the highlights. You can do it.
School has been going well. I just finished my Intercultural Business Negotiations class this week, with the submission of a fifteen page paper based on a half page article having to do with the acquisition of a Spanish company by the subsidiary of a slightly larger French company. Fun, right?
I missed the excursion to the Euro Institut due to a strange allergic reaction to the Chateau's laundry detergent, so um, yeah, there's that.
I guess the bottom line is, I'm just bored. I can't plug my amplifier in to the wall due to wattage conflicts, I'm down to my last set of guitar strings, I've finished all of my books, and I haven't been inspired for quite some time. You might say to yourself, "Who the hell cares?" Well, you know what? I do, and it's driving me absolutely insane. I haven't been nearly as musically productive as I typically am, and it is slowly eating at my soul. A slow kill in the cold.
I did, however, stay up rather late last night writing a new song on guitar, hoping that my rusty strings didn't snap. It is initially a fast piece which will be accompanied by blistering drums, stopping suddenly and developing into arpeggiated finger picking which molds itself into a drudging melodic breakdown of sorts; Much like my experience in Europe thus far. After this, I ran into some trouble. When I write music, I prefer the melody and rhythm to tell a story. I want the emotional content of the song to far out way it's technical complexity. The lyrical and instrumental processes are left completely separate until the very end, which is when I finally choose which lyrics to apply to particular songs, based entirely on the mood and pace of the melody. In this case, I believe that this tune should serve as a memoir of my time in Europe: My thoughts, feelings, triumphs, defeats and ultimate exodus. At this point in the song, I am trying desperately to apply a riff, one that is both rich in emotional content and bold in its demand of picking hand skill, that I had written almost four months ago, into this new song. There is a reason I had never put the riff into a song, however. It switches from eleven to four and, being not only an odd time signature, but also a rather technical melody, it has yet to find a home.
Following this problem-section are several more riffs which I desperately want to be in the song, but which lack the essential pertinence to the mood and key of the music. I'm frustrated, but I know these are the makings of a decent song. As I've learned, song writing is much like love: It happens when you least expect it. Therefore, I know that with a little bit more playing time, I will find the glue which will subsequently hold this piece together.
I read an interesting article in Popular Science this week, detailing "The Worlds Spookiest Weapons". This list contains weapons that only the truly insane could conceptualize. From armaments that are installed on the fins of dolphins to bombs that literally alter the sexual preference of a human being, this article contains just about every batshit crazy idea that the U.S. government has ever considered adopting. Speaking of bats, prior to "Little Boy" and "Fat Man" in 1945, were you aware that America began working on a project called "Operation X-Ray", in which thousands of bats would be strapped with incendiary devices and dropped over Japan? Theoretically, the bats would roost in the wooden and paper structures of Japanese buildings and detonate with the push of a button. Luckily, as we all know, the U.S. went with a much more logical approach with the nuking of Hiroshima and Nagasaki... Their rationale behind the abandonment of this idea: It would take over a year to strap these bats with enough explosive devices to do any real damage. Even better, the idea was first thought up by a dental surgeon from Pennsylvania. This gives me even more career options than I ever thought imaginable! Maybe I could draw up the blueprints for a bomb that will give thousands of people horrible breath, or make them sweat profusely! I could be a billionaire! Oh wait, these are all conceptions previously considered and put into development by the U.S. government. Damn, this article covers just about everything. I would strongly consider reading it.
I'm done. Hopefully next week will more interesting.
Let's see...my week...this week...hmmmm...
God this going to go badly...
It's cool, Tyler. Just go with the highlights. You can do it.
School has been going well. I just finished my Intercultural Business Negotiations class this week, with the submission of a fifteen page paper based on a half page article having to do with the acquisition of a Spanish company by the subsidiary of a slightly larger French company. Fun, right?
I missed the excursion to the Euro Institut due to a strange allergic reaction to the Chateau's laundry detergent, so um, yeah, there's that.
I guess the bottom line is, I'm just bored. I can't plug my amplifier in to the wall due to wattage conflicts, I'm down to my last set of guitar strings, I've finished all of my books, and I haven't been inspired for quite some time. You might say to yourself, "Who the hell cares?" Well, you know what? I do, and it's driving me absolutely insane. I haven't been nearly as musically productive as I typically am, and it is slowly eating at my soul. A slow kill in the cold.
I did, however, stay up rather late last night writing a new song on guitar, hoping that my rusty strings didn't snap. It is initially a fast piece which will be accompanied by blistering drums, stopping suddenly and developing into arpeggiated finger picking which molds itself into a drudging melodic breakdown of sorts; Much like my experience in Europe thus far. After this, I ran into some trouble. When I write music, I prefer the melody and rhythm to tell a story. I want the emotional content of the song to far out way it's technical complexity. The lyrical and instrumental processes are left completely separate until the very end, which is when I finally choose which lyrics to apply to particular songs, based entirely on the mood and pace of the melody. In this case, I believe that this tune should serve as a memoir of my time in Europe: My thoughts, feelings, triumphs, defeats and ultimate exodus. At this point in the song, I am trying desperately to apply a riff, one that is both rich in emotional content and bold in its demand of picking hand skill, that I had written almost four months ago, into this new song. There is a reason I had never put the riff into a song, however. It switches from eleven to four and, being not only an odd time signature, but also a rather technical melody, it has yet to find a home.
Following this problem-section are several more riffs which I desperately want to be in the song, but which lack the essential pertinence to the mood and key of the music. I'm frustrated, but I know these are the makings of a decent song. As I've learned, song writing is much like love: It happens when you least expect it. Therefore, I know that with a little bit more playing time, I will find the glue which will subsequently hold this piece together.
I read an interesting article in Popular Science this week, detailing "The Worlds Spookiest Weapons". This list contains weapons that only the truly insane could conceptualize. From armaments that are installed on the fins of dolphins to bombs that literally alter the sexual preference of a human being, this article contains just about every batshit crazy idea that the U.S. government has ever considered adopting. Speaking of bats, prior to "Little Boy" and "Fat Man" in 1945, were you aware that America began working on a project called "Operation X-Ray", in which thousands of bats would be strapped with incendiary devices and dropped over Japan? Theoretically, the bats would roost in the wooden and paper structures of Japanese buildings and detonate with the push of a button. Luckily, as we all know, the U.S. went with a much more logical approach with the nuking of Hiroshima and Nagasaki... Their rationale behind the abandonment of this idea: It would take over a year to strap these bats with enough explosive devices to do any real damage. Even better, the idea was first thought up by a dental surgeon from Pennsylvania. This gives me even more career options than I ever thought imaginable! Maybe I could draw up the blueprints for a bomb that will give thousands of people horrible breath, or make them sweat profusely! I could be a billionaire! Oh wait, these are all conceptions previously considered and put into development by the U.S. government. Damn, this article covers just about everything. I would strongly consider reading it.
I'm done. Hopefully next week will more interesting.
Italian Odyssey
Before school started to get too hectic, as a group, we decided to plan a trip to Italy. Unfortunately, we made this decision twenty four hours before we were supposed to leave. Thursday night, I was scrambling around the computer lab trying to find hostels along with train times in order to make it into Italy all in one piece, on time, and under budget. Deciding to go to Italy the day before we hat to leave, seemed to be an impossible and misguided task. Trail and tribulation were the only things that followed us on that Friday. From the beginning, we knew getting to Italy would be an odyssey of sorts. Our first indication was that we had to leave a man behind. As we boarded the train to Basel sans one, we debated and discussed the consecutive trains that would take us to our destination. With different Railpasses that the group possessed, we had to split up the group once more and go different routes. Now, the group, sans three, had to manage the ways of the trains and times which was not always easy, as we found out when we boarded the wrong train and the correct train was only minutes away from departing. Wrong trains, unmade reservation, and a long day eventually led us to our destination... Florence. This trip finally changed my perspective about traveling Europe. All the weekend travels I had taken thus far were planned weeks in advance with all reservations taken care of days if not weeks before. Therefore, I found traveling Europe just as difficult as getting around in the United States. This trip, that was decided in less than twenty four hours from our departure time, allowed me to travel and reach my destination safely and rather swiftly. Although, traveling at a moments notice was more hectic than my other travel, it was not more complicated or troublesome. The Railpass I purchased to travel across Europe gives me unlimited mobility with, of course, the occasional fee. But i am glad to say this pass along with the train time table restored my faith in the well known rumor that traveling in Euorpe has been mad fairly easy... with the occasional hectic process.
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