Firstly, let me just say that this is going to have some Buffy the Vampire Slayer major spoilers (but only from the first two and a half seasons, because that's as far as I've gotten) and also a little bit about Avatar (but that you've probably seen).
We'll go with Avatar first, since I feel like that will be a slightly shorter tangent. I totally loved it (with the exception of... why couldn't the blue girl princess character be the one who rode the orange flying beast? That would have been too legit), but it definitely got me thinking (as I often do) about what was drawing people to this movie. I mean, obviously, you have the massive budget that everyone keeps talking about, new breakthrough animation methods, and James Cameron. These are things that certainly had something to do with it, as most of the buzz I heard in my hometown circles focused on how it was the most expensive movie ever made, and how James Cameron had been working on it "since Titanic." I already wanted to see it, because it seemed a very "indigenous people good, army people bad" kind of movie and those are just my type. As I was sitting there in my Tinseltown seat, I suddenly had a thought: What is suddenly attracting the general populace to a movie whose theme normally only the fringers like me and Hodgens from Bones really thrive on? But then I again realized that this isn't anything new. Since the times of Children of Men and V for Vendetta, filmakers have been calling out the crazy evil government in one way or another and making tons of money with it. I think this was surprising because it was a continuation of what I assumed to be a Bush trend, but what I realize now is just a trend of disillusionment, similar to what happened during Vietnam. I just wonder if anything other than movie plots will come from it.
OK. Now on to Buffy, my new favorite TV show. First, who doesn't love that the Chosen One is always a girl? This isn't just any Chosen One, this is the one in charge of facing the greatest evil (i.e. vampires, demons, and other powers of darkness) and saving humanity. And she is always, always, always, the proud owner of two X chromosomes. They had me at hello. Second, I absolutely love that Buffy is strong, independent, and fun. I think she reminds me a lot of a Jessica Valenti feminist: their independence and self-awareness are coupled with the choice to be how they like and to push back against the feminist stereotype. Not that there's anything wrong with being the feminist stereotype, and not like I'm unaware of how many teenage boys probably tuned in because of the hot girl in the hot clothes, but I still like this other face of feminism. The other characters are great, too, challenging certain stereotypes about popular girls and "geeks" at the same time, and the plot of each episode is always tons of fun. Did I mention that it has both tacky nineties vampires and the beauty of nineties clothing? Like I said, a true gem.
Now to focus on one of the most feminist, and most frustrating, parts of the show so far. That is the Buffy/Angel relationship, and believe me it has caused me quite a bit of distress. In the efforts of saving time (and assuming that I'll be writing more about them later), I'll just address what happened in the last episode I watched today, which was the eighth episode of season 3. In it, Buffy and Angel are totally called out by Spike, the crazy but somehow lovable english punk vampire, who tells them that they can never be friends because they love each other. And, by the way, that love will kill them both. Yikes. This is kind of the (for now, unless they keep them apart for the rest of the season in which case it will be forever) culmination of two and a half series' worth of relationship problems, which can be explained quite quickly by this:
Slayer meets Boy. Slayer falls for Boy. Slayer realized Boy is Vampire with a tortured soul. Angsty desire, longing witty banter, and intermittent kissing ensue. Inevitably, Boy and Slayer fall in love and do the dirty... which causes Boy to lose his soul and become angry murderous torturing pre-soul vampire. Yikes. Enter season 2. Slayer gets over it. Slayer must kill Boy. Boy gets soul back when it's too late. Slayer kills Boy. Season three: Slayer goes emo. Slayer gets over it. Boy magically reappears with soul intact.
Which brings us to today. Buffy and Angel totally love each other, but there's the problem of pure happiness banishing his soul, and that Buffy is the one source of that true happiness. They keep trying to play friends (and accidentally kissing) until Buffy, in true Slayer fashion, calls bluff on the situation. This is the part that totally kills me, because as a Buffy fan and a girl who wants to be kissed I want her to be all lovey with Angel, but also the part where I realized how cool this show really is. Buffy, a seventeen year old girl who can't quite pass all of her classes but who constantly tries to save the world (which she didn't choose as a vocation, by the way, but was chosen for it) also has the self-awareness to say enough is enough. At the end of the episode, she told Angel that she wouldn't be coming back to see him anymore. Why? Because, and I paraphrase (because I don't know where to get the exact quote), he will never be able to give her what she wants. Talk about a girl sticking up for herself! She knows what she needs in a relationship, and she knows that even though she loves Angel (and he loves her), it isn't healthy for either of them. Of course, for them "isn't healthy" means "could end up with hundreds of people dying, the end of the world, or worse if they allow themselves to be happy," but still. Even as I sat there and screamed at the screen for Buffy not to leave Angel, the most perfectest boyfriend ever (except for the we can't fuck because I'll lose my soul and kill your friends thing), I knew that she was actually doing a really awesome and feminist thing: and that is having the self-respect and self-love to do what's best for you even when it means leaving someone you might love. Too often on TV (and in certain recently popular movies/books... *ahem* twilight)we see girls (and boys) who hold on to love despite all of the damage it does to them, and this is an entirely negative and destructive relationship model to show to young girls and people in general. Love should be about two whole people coming together to enjoy each other and make each other happy, not staying together even though we might die and the world might end because this is it. You don't need someone to complete you, no matter what Tom Cruise says, because you can complete yourself. Falling in love should be like the icing on the whole-you cake, because without a content self you can never enjoy another person. Or so they say.
That said... I'm going to continue to get my boyfriend fix from nineties TV shows (Roswell, Buffy, and 90210 for starters) until something worthwhile comes around. But heck, at least I'm not dating a soulless demon, right?
Until next time,
-g
Monday, December 28, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
These are a few of my least favorite things.
After reading Jessica Valenti's Full Frontal Feminism, and being quiet for a while, I've decided it's about time that I get a few things off my chest.
So, here are a few of my least favorite things:
1. "I'm not a feminist, but..." Are you kidding me? The thing is, what usually follows this statement is an incredibly feminist idea. Whenever girls say this to me, I wonder, are they listening to themselves? Part of me wants to explain, very gently, that if they feel strongly enough about it to say something, and if this isn't the only part of society they take issue with, they very well may be feminists. And that is OK. Actually, that is fanTAStic!
2. Boys ordering dinner. Think about it. No really, think about it. A feminist bisexual I know told me once that when she's at a "nice" restaurant, she will ask her boyfriend to order for her, even though she doesn't do it anywhere else. Let's recall, shall we, how when we were little most of us were too shy to ask the waiter for our order. We would tell our parents, and then they would order for us. Asking a boy to order your food for you is internalizing the concept that ownership and responsibility of women passes from their parents (specifically, their father) to their husband (or, in this case, date). Is it really so much for us to take responsibility for what we want to eat in order to buck this outdated, antiquated system? I think not, ladies. I think not.
3. "That slut..." In order to reclaim our sexuality as our own, and not our parents', our partner's, our society's, or the media's, we have got to stop acting like it's something we should keep under wraps. In all of my experience openly discussing topics of sex (sex drives, masturbation, the pill, sexual experiences, etc.), the result has been nothing short of empowering. The first time you mention your sexuality in a more public sphere, it feels wrong, but it also brings a mighty rush. Soon, for me at least, it became a part of my discourse. I wasn't ashamed of talking about my sexuality in front of almost any audience (though I will admit I'd rather not mention it in front of my southern baptist grandmother). And, though to me this has become a part of my everyday experience, it is in itself revolutionary that I or any other woman could become so comfortable with their sexuality that it is a non issue. I'm not trying to glorify my own experience, because it was hard and took the support of a loving group to nudge me out of my comfort zone. I bring up the power factor to highlight the possibilities for the movement if all of us take steps to reclaim our sexualities despite the cultural expectations.
4. Anti-abortion legislation, activism, and general fundie-ness. This shouldn't take long to explain. The fact that I may, as a woman, decide to have sex before marriage, never get married, never have children, or any other thing that involves my lady bits is absolutely none of anyone's business. Roe v. Wade doesn't force women to get abortions, neither does the presence of such organizations as Planned Parenthood. However, anti-abortion activism, along with abstinence-only sex education and other anti-reproductive rights activism and legislation, greatly reduces the choices and rights I have when my own body is concerned. keep your hands and your fundie ideals off of MY UTERUS. It is still mine, right?
5. Political representation of women. In the United States, women have been legally able to be elected to Congress since 1917, and able to vote since 1920. This session of Congress, the 111th, has the highest level of women representatives since 1917. We still only make up 16.8% of Congress. If we're so worried about the legislation that effects us, such as the wage gap, parental leave, discriminatory laws, reproductive rights, and health care, why aren't more of us running, voting, and winning? Of course, I don't claim that a woman by the act of being a woman will be the best possible representative for women. I voted for Barack Obama in the 2008 election based on many different factors, and I would always expect my fellow women to vote based on more than a chromosome. However, as we make up half of the population of the country, and there are both good and bad men in Congress, it stands to reason that there is underepresentation afoot.
6. Feminism as the f word. Feminism, by dictionary definition, is the belief in the equality of the sexes and the movement surrounding that belief. Most people, I think, believe that people are equal no matter what sex or gender they identify with. So why is it that feminism is seen as such a dirty, radical thing? Because it pushes back. Though most people may think they believe in an equal society, they continually reinforce the disenfranchisement of half the population through societal and institutional double standards and discrimination. Feminism challenges the status quo, because that status quo doesn't cut it where gender equality is concerned. Whenever you push on the status quo, you threaten people, and those people are bound to push back. The point is that we have to unabashedly embrace the word and show what we are truly pushing for.
I am feminist, hear me roar!
More later, perhaps a few of my favorite things is still to come?
-g
So, here are a few of my least favorite things:
1. "I'm not a feminist, but..." Are you kidding me? The thing is, what usually follows this statement is an incredibly feminist idea. Whenever girls say this to me, I wonder, are they listening to themselves? Part of me wants to explain, very gently, that if they feel strongly enough about it to say something, and if this isn't the only part of society they take issue with, they very well may be feminists. And that is OK. Actually, that is fanTAStic!
2. Boys ordering dinner. Think about it. No really, think about it. A feminist bisexual I know told me once that when she's at a "nice" restaurant, she will ask her boyfriend to order for her, even though she doesn't do it anywhere else. Let's recall, shall we, how when we were little most of us were too shy to ask the waiter for our order. We would tell our parents, and then they would order for us. Asking a boy to order your food for you is internalizing the concept that ownership and responsibility of women passes from their parents (specifically, their father) to their husband (or, in this case, date). Is it really so much for us to take responsibility for what we want to eat in order to buck this outdated, antiquated system? I think not, ladies. I think not.
3. "That slut..." In order to reclaim our sexuality as our own, and not our parents', our partner's, our society's, or the media's, we have got to stop acting like it's something we should keep under wraps. In all of my experience openly discussing topics of sex (sex drives, masturbation, the pill, sexual experiences, etc.), the result has been nothing short of empowering. The first time you mention your sexuality in a more public sphere, it feels wrong, but it also brings a mighty rush. Soon, for me at least, it became a part of my discourse. I wasn't ashamed of talking about my sexuality in front of almost any audience (though I will admit I'd rather not mention it in front of my southern baptist grandmother). And, though to me this has become a part of my everyday experience, it is in itself revolutionary that I or any other woman could become so comfortable with their sexuality that it is a non issue. I'm not trying to glorify my own experience, because it was hard and took the support of a loving group to nudge me out of my comfort zone. I bring up the power factor to highlight the possibilities for the movement if all of us take steps to reclaim our sexualities despite the cultural expectations.
4. Anti-abortion legislation, activism, and general fundie-ness. This shouldn't take long to explain. The fact that I may, as a woman, decide to have sex before marriage, never get married, never have children, or any other thing that involves my lady bits is absolutely none of anyone's business. Roe v. Wade doesn't force women to get abortions, neither does the presence of such organizations as Planned Parenthood. However, anti-abortion activism, along with abstinence-only sex education and other anti-reproductive rights activism and legislation, greatly reduces the choices and rights I have when my own body is concerned. keep your hands and your fundie ideals off of MY UTERUS. It is still mine, right?
5. Political representation of women. In the United States, women have been legally able to be elected to Congress since 1917, and able to vote since 1920. This session of Congress, the 111th, has the highest level of women representatives since 1917. We still only make up 16.8% of Congress. If we're so worried about the legislation that effects us, such as the wage gap, parental leave, discriminatory laws, reproductive rights, and health care, why aren't more of us running, voting, and winning? Of course, I don't claim that a woman by the act of being a woman will be the best possible representative for women. I voted for Barack Obama in the 2008 election based on many different factors, and I would always expect my fellow women to vote based on more than a chromosome. However, as we make up half of the population of the country, and there are both good and bad men in Congress, it stands to reason that there is underepresentation afoot.
6. Feminism as the f word. Feminism, by dictionary definition, is the belief in the equality of the sexes and the movement surrounding that belief. Most people, I think, believe that people are equal no matter what sex or gender they identify with. So why is it that feminism is seen as such a dirty, radical thing? Because it pushes back. Though most people may think they believe in an equal society, they continually reinforce the disenfranchisement of half the population through societal and institutional double standards and discrimination. Feminism challenges the status quo, because that status quo doesn't cut it where gender equality is concerned. Whenever you push on the status quo, you threaten people, and those people are bound to push back. The point is that we have to unabashedly embrace the word and show what we are truly pushing for.
I am feminist, hear me roar!
More later, perhaps a few of my favorite things is still to come?
-g
Monday, June 8, 2009
Long time no blog, I’m aware… school work piled up and there wasn’t much else to be done. There will be a blog about Warsaw and Vilnius at some point. I promise.
First, you don’t get to sleep at all the night before you leave. This is absolutely necessary when traveling across countries on a different continent. Who has time to sleep when there are good-byes to be had? Oh, this is the second part of the first step. You have to be leaving for Paris at the same time that all of your friends are leaving the country as the end of their semesters. This is of equal importance, because they have to come by for midnight breakfast, which is why you don’t get to sleep. But, it’s worth it, because they cook bacon, scrambled eggs and cheese, and Estonian bread. This is worth losing a few hours of sleep before a day of massive travel. I think.
Second, you have to be on a deadline for a paper that is worth fifty percent of your grade. This is imperative to achieve proper loss of sleep, because the citation alone will keep you busy until four, when you’re supposed to leave. You have to have at least eight sources whose author’s names are any number of different European nationalities that are almost impossible for you to spell. Without this, it won’t be nearly as fun.
You should have an amazing roommate from Moldova who reminds you of all of the things you might have forgotten, like where you should be putting your money (more than one place). The anxiety that you feel about traveling across Europe to a place where people are infamous for hating your nationality and language by yourself is completely normal, and instead of fighting it and trying to convince yourself that you are just experiencing the spill over from your hypochondriac tendencies, embrace the anxiety. It will most likely ensure that you don’t make any mistakes, as you’ll double and triple check every step of the way.
Flying from Tallinn is no big deal, and it really is the first stop of every bus from Tartu to Tallinn. Also, the express bus at 4:30 AM always leaves from terminal number 1, even though it isn’t written online or printed anywhere at the station.
When a bus is completely full and you still have to find a seat, those rules of “never sit next to an Estonian on a bus” have to be thrown out of the door. Yes, sitting next to someone who fell asleep sitting alone feels like a huge invasion of privacy and, indeed, it is, but when that is the only seat that isn’t being angrily guarded there really isn’t any choice. The best way to avoid the weird encounter upon his waking is to pretend to be asleep yourself and to make yourself as small as possible. This is why having had no sleep comes in handy. It is much more convincing if you really can’t open your eyes.
Be sure that there is some kind of alarm set to ensure that you are awake for the first stop at the airport, and let the driver know (as best you can) that you need to get your luggage from under the bus. He will not assume that you do.
Once inside the airport, assuming that the long line is where you belong is not actually the best plan of attack. Find the information desk for the carrier on which you are flying, all of which are conveniently located across from the check in counters. This person can assure you, without a doubt, where you should be going to get in the right direction.
Half full bottles of lotion that, at one point, contained more that 100ml of liquid are not OK by Estonian standards. Also, Estonia is as strict as US airports in its monitoring of water bottles from the outside. In the Riga airport, students have been known to get through to the ryanair flight without completely finishing their water (though I wouldn’t suggest that you rely on this method to get the water bottle through security). In the Tallinn airport, they do not play.
One great thing about the Tallinn airport that I cannot say for any other airport I have ever been in is that, like the rest of Estonia, there is free wireless in every part of the airport. There are also jacks to plug in your computer at every gate, though in some cases you’ll have to be that intensely tech person who would rather sit on the floor and have internet access and a juiced battery than a real seat at the gate in order to reach them. For this reason, if you bring your laptop with you into the airport, don’t pack your charger in your checked baggage. This just gets frustrating during flight delays.
Flight delays will happen. They always do. But, if you are flying a legit airline (as opposed to the likes of Ryanair) you do not need to worry about the implications of this delay. Simply try your best to focus on the Cher music videos that are playing to destract the angry passengers, including yourself.
The flight from Tallinn to Riga is literally forty minutes long. Don’t plan to gain back all of your rest through this flight alone, because it is impossible. Accept it for what it is: Way better than the bus ride.
The Riga airport is not nearly as awesome as the Tallinn airport, mainly because you may have to ride in a bus jammed like sardines to your plane that is in the middle of a plane parking lot and they do not have free internet for you. Hey, not every place can be Estonia. If you can just try to deal with the claustrophobia you will get through the bus ride fine. Also, the chairs in the waiting area are connected at the back to the ones facing the other way. Don’t try to pull them closer to the footstools. Especially if there are people sitting in the ones on the opposite side. This just makes for an awkward situation.
Once you’re in the air, you are good to go. You have at least two and a half hours to sleep, and unlike Ryanair, they stewards won’t interrupt your rest. The seats in coach are relatively comfortable, and by the time you’re on the plane, any stationary and relatively secure place feels like a feather bed. Let the sleep be, and enjoy.
Welcome to Charles De Gualle. Yes, that is the airport. Yes, there are underground tunnels. Wait until you’re on the automatic moving platforms that move through the center of Terminal 1 above the fountain. Talk about creepy. It isn’t true what people say about the French. If you have simple questions, like “How do I catch the train?” they will very politely tell you the correct directions and help you to get where you’re going. If they’re pissed that you can’t speak French, they hide it incredibly well. This is not to discourage you from practicing, if French is your language of choice, but this is just to assuage any communication fears you had. Also, all signs are in at least French and English, though the arrows for directions take a little while to get used to (Yes, that sign for the train station is at a downward angle. That is because you have to take the elevator around the corner.). The airport shuttle to parking and train stations (located in other terminals) comes about every three minutes and is incredibly fast and easy to understand. A guy with a great American accent will repeat everything that the French woman says to you, so don’t worry about getting confused. Also, everything is in a straight line. This makes it significantly more difficult to get lost.
If you are collecting a ticket from the machine that you bought online, be prepared that some American credit cards will not be accepted. This does not mean that you will never get your ticket and will be stuck in Paris forever. This simply means that you should find the yellow office where the TGV and SNCF ticket office (“billet”) is located. Let them know that the machine doesn’t like your card and hand over the offending credit card. It isn’t actually necessary to give them any other information, although it can’t ever hurt for personal reassurance.
If you’re at the wrong terminal, they will tell you when you pick up your ticket. If you picked up your ticket successfully from the machine and are unsure if you’re in the right place, go to any place with an “i” or head on over to the afore-mentioned yellow office. They’ll let you know if you’re in the right place.
Some disappointing things about the otherwise cool train station: I have yet to figure out how you know which gate your train departs from, but I’m planning on heading to the “i” stand as soon as I finish this entry to find out. Also, five hours is WAY TOO MUCH TIME to allow for getting off the plane to getting on the train. Though Charles De Gualle sounds scary, it is really excellently organized and easily navigated. Did I mention the incredible shuttle that gets you between terminals in three minutes? Yes. Five hours is way overkill.
Also, no one can seem to figure out the wireless in the waiting room, hence why this blog entry was first written in Word and not on blogger. But, there are nifty desks and plugs to rejuice your lappy, and if you have any homework (or travel blogging) that needs to get done that doesn’t require the internet, it’s the perfect opportunity.
And that is how you get to Paris. More on France later.
First, you don’t get to sleep at all the night before you leave. This is absolutely necessary when traveling across countries on a different continent. Who has time to sleep when there are good-byes to be had? Oh, this is the second part of the first step. You have to be leaving for Paris at the same time that all of your friends are leaving the country as the end of their semesters. This is of equal importance, because they have to come by for midnight breakfast, which is why you don’t get to sleep. But, it’s worth it, because they cook bacon, scrambled eggs and cheese, and Estonian bread. This is worth losing a few hours of sleep before a day of massive travel. I think.
Second, you have to be on a deadline for a paper that is worth fifty percent of your grade. This is imperative to achieve proper loss of sleep, because the citation alone will keep you busy until four, when you’re supposed to leave. You have to have at least eight sources whose author’s names are any number of different European nationalities that are almost impossible for you to spell. Without this, it won’t be nearly as fun.
You should have an amazing roommate from Moldova who reminds you of all of the things you might have forgotten, like where you should be putting your money (more than one place). The anxiety that you feel about traveling across Europe to a place where people are infamous for hating your nationality and language by yourself is completely normal, and instead of fighting it and trying to convince yourself that you are just experiencing the spill over from your hypochondriac tendencies, embrace the anxiety. It will most likely ensure that you don’t make any mistakes, as you’ll double and triple check every step of the way.
Flying from Tallinn is no big deal, and it really is the first stop of every bus from Tartu to Tallinn. Also, the express bus at 4:30 AM always leaves from terminal number 1, even though it isn’t written online or printed anywhere at the station.
When a bus is completely full and you still have to find a seat, those rules of “never sit next to an Estonian on a bus” have to be thrown out of the door. Yes, sitting next to someone who fell asleep sitting alone feels like a huge invasion of privacy and, indeed, it is, but when that is the only seat that isn’t being angrily guarded there really isn’t any choice. The best way to avoid the weird encounter upon his waking is to pretend to be asleep yourself and to make yourself as small as possible. This is why having had no sleep comes in handy. It is much more convincing if you really can’t open your eyes.
Be sure that there is some kind of alarm set to ensure that you are awake for the first stop at the airport, and let the driver know (as best you can) that you need to get your luggage from under the bus. He will not assume that you do.
Once inside the airport, assuming that the long line is where you belong is not actually the best plan of attack. Find the information desk for the carrier on which you are flying, all of which are conveniently located across from the check in counters. This person can assure you, without a doubt, where you should be going to get in the right direction.
Half full bottles of lotion that, at one point, contained more that 100ml of liquid are not OK by Estonian standards. Also, Estonia is as strict as US airports in its monitoring of water bottles from the outside. In the Riga airport, students have been known to get through to the ryanair flight without completely finishing their water (though I wouldn’t suggest that you rely on this method to get the water bottle through security). In the Tallinn airport, they do not play.
One great thing about the Tallinn airport that I cannot say for any other airport I have ever been in is that, like the rest of Estonia, there is free wireless in every part of the airport. There are also jacks to plug in your computer at every gate, though in some cases you’ll have to be that intensely tech person who would rather sit on the floor and have internet access and a juiced battery than a real seat at the gate in order to reach them. For this reason, if you bring your laptop with you into the airport, don’t pack your charger in your checked baggage. This just gets frustrating during flight delays.
Flight delays will happen. They always do. But, if you are flying a legit airline (as opposed to the likes of Ryanair) you do not need to worry about the implications of this delay. Simply try your best to focus on the Cher music videos that are playing to destract the angry passengers, including yourself.
The flight from Tallinn to Riga is literally forty minutes long. Don’t plan to gain back all of your rest through this flight alone, because it is impossible. Accept it for what it is: Way better than the bus ride.
The Riga airport is not nearly as awesome as the Tallinn airport, mainly because you may have to ride in a bus jammed like sardines to your plane that is in the middle of a plane parking lot and they do not have free internet for you. Hey, not every place can be Estonia. If you can just try to deal with the claustrophobia you will get through the bus ride fine. Also, the chairs in the waiting area are connected at the back to the ones facing the other way. Don’t try to pull them closer to the footstools. Especially if there are people sitting in the ones on the opposite side. This just makes for an awkward situation.
Once you’re in the air, you are good to go. You have at least two and a half hours to sleep, and unlike Ryanair, they stewards won’t interrupt your rest. The seats in coach are relatively comfortable, and by the time you’re on the plane, any stationary and relatively secure place feels like a feather bed. Let the sleep be, and enjoy.
Welcome to Charles De Gualle. Yes, that is the airport. Yes, there are underground tunnels. Wait until you’re on the automatic moving platforms that move through the center of Terminal 1 above the fountain. Talk about creepy. It isn’t true what people say about the French. If you have simple questions, like “How do I catch the train?” they will very politely tell you the correct directions and help you to get where you’re going. If they’re pissed that you can’t speak French, they hide it incredibly well. This is not to discourage you from practicing, if French is your language of choice, but this is just to assuage any communication fears you had. Also, all signs are in at least French and English, though the arrows for directions take a little while to get used to (Yes, that sign for the train station is at a downward angle. That is because you have to take the elevator around the corner.). The airport shuttle to parking and train stations (located in other terminals) comes about every three minutes and is incredibly fast and easy to understand. A guy with a great American accent will repeat everything that the French woman says to you, so don’t worry about getting confused. Also, everything is in a straight line. This makes it significantly more difficult to get lost.
If you are collecting a ticket from the machine that you bought online, be prepared that some American credit cards will not be accepted. This does not mean that you will never get your ticket and will be stuck in Paris forever. This simply means that you should find the yellow office where the TGV and SNCF ticket office (“billet”) is located. Let them know that the machine doesn’t like your card and hand over the offending credit card. It isn’t actually necessary to give them any other information, although it can’t ever hurt for personal reassurance.
If you’re at the wrong terminal, they will tell you when you pick up your ticket. If you picked up your ticket successfully from the machine and are unsure if you’re in the right place, go to any place with an “i” or head on over to the afore-mentioned yellow office. They’ll let you know if you’re in the right place.
Some disappointing things about the otherwise cool train station: I have yet to figure out how you know which gate your train departs from, but I’m planning on heading to the “i” stand as soon as I finish this entry to find out. Also, five hours is WAY TOO MUCH TIME to allow for getting off the plane to getting on the train. Though Charles De Gualle sounds scary, it is really excellently organized and easily navigated. Did I mention the incredible shuttle that gets you between terminals in three minutes? Yes. Five hours is way overkill.
Also, no one can seem to figure out the wireless in the waiting room, hence why this blog entry was first written in Word and not on blogger. But, there are nifty desks and plugs to rejuice your lappy, and if you have any homework (or travel blogging) that needs to get done that doesn’t require the internet, it’s the perfect opportunity.
And that is how you get to Paris. More on France later.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
And then, one day, its spring
When we left for Berlin, Estonia had been thawing for a few weeks already. The stairways that were once treacherous ice paths had turned into downhill flowing streams, and the sound of running water everywhere made the entire town of Tartu sound like it was coming to life. Since I arrived, I'd taken the mountains of snow in the town square as a part of the landscape. Suddenly, literally overnight, they were gone. Within a week the trees that had been the black contrast to the snow went from dead to bursting with all different shades of green. The park across from the main building that had looked like a snowy mountain was transformed into green, grassy hills with big leafy trees, and suddenly there were hundreds of Estonians!
We came back just in time for the beginning of the Estonian tradition of Student Days. We had been told, incorrectly, that the students were given the keys to the city and that they controlled the city government for that week. We were also told that the first thing they always did was cancel school. I had planned to go to Sweden with a friend for the whole week, but it was a great thing that the plans fell through, as we all had classes that week. The first night, I saw more Estonians than I had seen all semester. There was a song festival on the town square, where a mens chorus led the crowd in some traditional, and some less traditional, songs. From there the whole crowd started moving towards the base of Dome Hill, which is like a big bowl in the ground. This is where I sledded, made snow angels, and built a snow man for the first time only a month and a half before. Now it was a slightly damp, but very grassy basin. By this time it was dark outside, and the bowl started filling up quickly with students, children, and citizens of every age from the city. A band on a stage across the way led the crowd in traditional Estonian songs, and the crowd of what had to be thousands of people sang and danced and celebrated their country together. It was an incredible sight. Even though I couldn't understand the words, I could feel the pride these people had in their small, young country. I couldn't help feeling sad that Austin couldn't do things like this, but its a different culture, a different place, and a much smaller town.
All week long, the park that was now green was overflowing with students and stages and vans promoting different alcoholic beverages. The college students looked like they could be from any campus in the US, with groups representing all of the different cliques on campus, sitting on blankets, playing guitars, kicking around hackey sacks, and just having a good time with their friends.
I had always thought that Estonia was vastly different from what I was used to based on how Estonians acted out on the town square. It was always muted, there weren't very many people out, and the ones that were loud were normally drunk university students out late at night, or Estonians out late at the local pubs. Now, as the sun comes out more and more every day, the Estonians are coming out into the town. The entire town square is covered in decks that each match their restaurant, and on these decks appeared chairs, tables, and umbrellas. Some even have plants potted into their fences. These tables are always filled with patrons, and the once-silent town square is always filled with the sound of people talking. The kissing students fountain, which until now I had always thought of as a statue, was finally turned on last week. So now, along with the babble of voices, there is the rushing water and trickle of the fountain that Tartu is so famous for.
As I have tried to take in the changes happening to my new home, I realized that I am falling even deeply in love with this country. I explained it to a friend like this:
Say you meet someone who has just been in an accident, so they are slightly out of sorts. You fall in love with them anyway, and you love them just the way they are. Then, suddenly, they are healed, and they are even better than you need them to be. Its like your emotions overflow, because that person is now more incredible to you than you ever expected. That is how the sunshine, the green trees, and the blue sky of Estonia make me feel.
We came back just in time for the beginning of the Estonian tradition of Student Days. We had been told, incorrectly, that the students were given the keys to the city and that they controlled the city government for that week. We were also told that the first thing they always did was cancel school. I had planned to go to Sweden with a friend for the whole week, but it was a great thing that the plans fell through, as we all had classes that week. The first night, I saw more Estonians than I had seen all semester. There was a song festival on the town square, where a mens chorus led the crowd in some traditional, and some less traditional, songs. From there the whole crowd started moving towards the base of Dome Hill, which is like a big bowl in the ground. This is where I sledded, made snow angels, and built a snow man for the first time only a month and a half before. Now it was a slightly damp, but very grassy basin. By this time it was dark outside, and the bowl started filling up quickly with students, children, and citizens of every age from the city. A band on a stage across the way led the crowd in traditional Estonian songs, and the crowd of what had to be thousands of people sang and danced and celebrated their country together. It was an incredible sight. Even though I couldn't understand the words, I could feel the pride these people had in their small, young country. I couldn't help feeling sad that Austin couldn't do things like this, but its a different culture, a different place, and a much smaller town.
All week long, the park that was now green was overflowing with students and stages and vans promoting different alcoholic beverages. The college students looked like they could be from any campus in the US, with groups representing all of the different cliques on campus, sitting on blankets, playing guitars, kicking around hackey sacks, and just having a good time with their friends.
I had always thought that Estonia was vastly different from what I was used to based on how Estonians acted out on the town square. It was always muted, there weren't very many people out, and the ones that were loud were normally drunk university students out late at night, or Estonians out late at the local pubs. Now, as the sun comes out more and more every day, the Estonians are coming out into the town. The entire town square is covered in decks that each match their restaurant, and on these decks appeared chairs, tables, and umbrellas. Some even have plants potted into their fences. These tables are always filled with patrons, and the once-silent town square is always filled with the sound of people talking. The kissing students fountain, which until now I had always thought of as a statue, was finally turned on last week. So now, along with the babble of voices, there is the rushing water and trickle of the fountain that Tartu is so famous for.
As I have tried to take in the changes happening to my new home, I realized that I am falling even deeply in love with this country. I explained it to a friend like this:
Say you meet someone who has just been in an accident, so they are slightly out of sorts. You fall in love with them anyway, and you love them just the way they are. Then, suddenly, they are healed, and they are even better than you need them to be. Its like your emotions overflow, because that person is now more incredible to you than you ever expected. That is how the sunshine, the green trees, and the blue sky of Estonia make me feel.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
The Trip to Norway that Wasn't
We left on the last wednesday in April, planning to catch a bus to Riga Latvia, a plane to Bremen Germany, and a plane to Haugesund Norway where we would check into our hotel, take pretty Norway pictures, and then the next morning catch a bus to Odda where we would embark on a grand hiking and canoeing adventure in the fjords. This was our big, big trip that we had been planning for months. We were all ridiculously excited. The guys bought HUGE backpacker's backpacks to hold all of our food for canoeing and hiking, and the night before we left we made 34 sandwiches to get us through traveling and the first day of canoeing (there was a lot of peanut butter in those backpacks. Peter's clothes smelled like peanut butter sandwiches the entire trip!). We also brought seven bueno bars, ten apples, two cans of pringles and three cans of peanuts.
We got on the bus from Tartu and got into Riga no problem, caught a tram to the airport, and made our way to the Ryanair wing to await our flight into Bremen. The thing about Ryanair is that it is a discount air carrier, so all of the students use it to get around, but it is only point to point. This means that they only guarantee to get you from point a to point b, and are not responsible if you miss a second plane, because they don't coordinate connecting flights. I knew this, we all knew this, but we didn't think it would be a problem. Then our plane into Bremen was delayed for an hour and a half, which meant that we would miss our flight into Norway. There are very few flights that go into Haugesund since it's such a little town, and we needed to get to Haugesund in the next 20 hours to catch the bus to Odda that only leaves at 9 AM on thursdays. It turned out, after hours in Bremen and Riga researching, that there was no way to get into Norway at the right time. Then we started researching options out of Bremen, and decided to just catch the tram to the train station, find tickets to somewhere, and to make the rest up as we went along.
Fast forward to the four of us separated into teams of two to find tickets that we can afford out of Bremen, and Kelsey and Peter run up to Colin and I and say, "We're going to Berlin. The train leaves in three minutes. Lets go." So we run off through the train station (or Hauptbahnhof as the Germans say)and grab the train literally seconds before it takes off, sit down, and try and figure out how these german trains actually work, and where we will sleep when we get to berlin at 2 AM. As we got the cheapest student tickets, we have to switch trains every hour or so, and the first transition went none too smoothly. We saw the name of the next city we were going to on a train that was at a different platform than we were supposed to be on, but we completely lost our minds and jumped on again right before it took off. After being assured by a kind german soul, we knew we would eventually get to the right city. Then when they came through the cars and asked for our ticket, we produced one that, it turned out, was not valid on the train we were on. We were told that no, we could not purchase tickets for the train we were on and we would simply have to get out at the next stop. It turned out that we had gotten on the super special express trains that get you between cities without any stops in the middle and at very high speeds, so we ended up getting to our next transition stop an hour before our train would. Best mistake ever, in my opinion, as it gave us time to eat something other than peanut butter, nutella, and banana sandwiches for dinner.
We did eventually make it into Berlin without taking any more wrong trains, and were planning on sleeping in the train station like all good college travelers do, but were met with tons of security wandering around the station. So, we went to the information services desk and found brochures that listed hostels with 24 hour reception, got bus instructions from the man at the desk (seriously LOVE germany) and made our way to the City Hotel Berlin. When we got there, we lucked out that there were four empty beds, headed upstairs, and crashed. Of course there were only free beds for one night, so we knew we'd have to wake up early the next morning to find a new hostel for the rest of the weekend.
At 11 AM, after I successfully ordered breakfast in German and we paid way too many euros for pastries and coffee, we started what has come to be lovingly known as the Hostel Tour 2009. We must have walked to four hostels before finding one that had free beds and that we found on accident down a side street called "The Easterner." They had two private double rooms, which in hostel terms meant that we could sleep in pairs in two rooms without any strangers. This was very exciting. We even (accidentally) bargained the price down to 20 euros a night, saving about fifteen dollars each. Sweet deal.
I cannot even describe the feeling of happiness that we all felt when we realized we had somewhere to sleep, but we quickly dropped off our stuff and headed off for our first day (half day) of sightseeing. We walked halfway across the city, or at least that's how it felt, to see the TV tower, churches, Marx and Engels platz, and the East Side Gallery, which is the longest section of Berlin wall still standing. It's been turned into a gallery of paintings by artists to commemorate the wall falling. My feet were in such pain by the time we made it back to the hostel, but it was worth it to see that.
The next day was also full of sightseeing. We started with Museum Island and saw all of the gorgeous old buildings, headed to Potsdam Platz and searched (unsuccessfully) for the ben and jerry's ice cream shop that was supposed to exist there. We did not find it. But, we did find a Sri Lankan protest group outside of the Reichstag, which is a gorgeous, gorgeous building. We didn't get to go inside because of the massive line, but we did get to walk through one of the most beautiful parks in the world, the Tiergarten. We laid in the incredibly green grass in the sun for so long that i got a sunburn and I didn't even care. We then went on to see a cathedral that survived the bombing of WW2.
We spend the next day traveling to and sightseeing in Bremen, a quaint little city that, after Berlin, was almost a let down except for the awesome buildings in Old Town. From there we went to Riga, where we spent a day sightseeing there at the old town in the capital of Latvia and ended our trip with a card game and Latvian beer on the old town square (which just happens to be a UNESCO recognized site).
All in all, it was no canoeing hiking fjord adventure, but it was still amazing. The four of us have discussed how we have all, over the course of our travels this semester and in our lives, been places where we really felt like we had found "our city." Mine, it turns out, is most definitely Berlin!
I'm planning on getting to Poland, Lithuania, and the UK in the last legs of this semester. Hopefully it won't take as long as this did to tell ya'll about those trips! Also, we came back from the gorgeous green beauty that is Germany to an Estonia without ice or snow, and with 70 degree weather and green trees. Best homecoming ever!
We got on the bus from Tartu and got into Riga no problem, caught a tram to the airport, and made our way to the Ryanair wing to await our flight into Bremen. The thing about Ryanair is that it is a discount air carrier, so all of the students use it to get around, but it is only point to point. This means that they only guarantee to get you from point a to point b, and are not responsible if you miss a second plane, because they don't coordinate connecting flights. I knew this, we all knew this, but we didn't think it would be a problem. Then our plane into Bremen was delayed for an hour and a half, which meant that we would miss our flight into Norway. There are very few flights that go into Haugesund since it's such a little town, and we needed to get to Haugesund in the next 20 hours to catch the bus to Odda that only leaves at 9 AM on thursdays. It turned out, after hours in Bremen and Riga researching, that there was no way to get into Norway at the right time. Then we started researching options out of Bremen, and decided to just catch the tram to the train station, find tickets to somewhere, and to make the rest up as we went along.
Fast forward to the four of us separated into teams of two to find tickets that we can afford out of Bremen, and Kelsey and Peter run up to Colin and I and say, "We're going to Berlin. The train leaves in three minutes. Lets go." So we run off through the train station (or Hauptbahnhof as the Germans say)and grab the train literally seconds before it takes off, sit down, and try and figure out how these german trains actually work, and where we will sleep when we get to berlin at 2 AM. As we got the cheapest student tickets, we have to switch trains every hour or so, and the first transition went none too smoothly. We saw the name of the next city we were going to on a train that was at a different platform than we were supposed to be on, but we completely lost our minds and jumped on again right before it took off. After being assured by a kind german soul, we knew we would eventually get to the right city. Then when they came through the cars and asked for our ticket, we produced one that, it turned out, was not valid on the train we were on. We were told that no, we could not purchase tickets for the train we were on and we would simply have to get out at the next stop. It turned out that we had gotten on the super special express trains that get you between cities without any stops in the middle and at very high speeds, so we ended up getting to our next transition stop an hour before our train would. Best mistake ever, in my opinion, as it gave us time to eat something other than peanut butter, nutella, and banana sandwiches for dinner.
We did eventually make it into Berlin without taking any more wrong trains, and were planning on sleeping in the train station like all good college travelers do, but were met with tons of security wandering around the station. So, we went to the information services desk and found brochures that listed hostels with 24 hour reception, got bus instructions from the man at the desk (seriously LOVE germany) and made our way to the City Hotel Berlin. When we got there, we lucked out that there were four empty beds, headed upstairs, and crashed. Of course there were only free beds for one night, so we knew we'd have to wake up early the next morning to find a new hostel for the rest of the weekend.
At 11 AM, after I successfully ordered breakfast in German and we paid way too many euros for pastries and coffee, we started what has come to be lovingly known as the Hostel Tour 2009. We must have walked to four hostels before finding one that had free beds and that we found on accident down a side street called "The Easterner." They had two private double rooms, which in hostel terms meant that we could sleep in pairs in two rooms without any strangers. This was very exciting. We even (accidentally) bargained the price down to 20 euros a night, saving about fifteen dollars each. Sweet deal.
I cannot even describe the feeling of happiness that we all felt when we realized we had somewhere to sleep, but we quickly dropped off our stuff and headed off for our first day (half day) of sightseeing. We walked halfway across the city, or at least that's how it felt, to see the TV tower, churches, Marx and Engels platz, and the East Side Gallery, which is the longest section of Berlin wall still standing. It's been turned into a gallery of paintings by artists to commemorate the wall falling. My feet were in such pain by the time we made it back to the hostel, but it was worth it to see that.
The next day was also full of sightseeing. We started with Museum Island and saw all of the gorgeous old buildings, headed to Potsdam Platz and searched (unsuccessfully) for the ben and jerry's ice cream shop that was supposed to exist there. We did not find it. But, we did find a Sri Lankan protest group outside of the Reichstag, which is a gorgeous, gorgeous building. We didn't get to go inside because of the massive line, but we did get to walk through one of the most beautiful parks in the world, the Tiergarten. We laid in the incredibly green grass in the sun for so long that i got a sunburn and I didn't even care. We then went on to see a cathedral that survived the bombing of WW2.
We spend the next day traveling to and sightseeing in Bremen, a quaint little city that, after Berlin, was almost a let down except for the awesome buildings in Old Town. From there we went to Riga, where we spent a day sightseeing there at the old town in the capital of Latvia and ended our trip with a card game and Latvian beer on the old town square (which just happens to be a UNESCO recognized site).
All in all, it was no canoeing hiking fjord adventure, but it was still amazing. The four of us have discussed how we have all, over the course of our travels this semester and in our lives, been places where we really felt like we had found "our city." Mine, it turns out, is most definitely Berlin!
I'm planning on getting to Poland, Lithuania, and the UK in the last legs of this semester. Hopefully it won't take as long as this did to tell ya'll about those trips! Also, we came back from the gorgeous green beauty that is Germany to an Estonia without ice or snow, and with 70 degree weather and green trees. Best homecoming ever!
Sunday, April 19, 2009
So... ok. I've really really really been falling behind.
First up, the long awaited Hungarian identity. This is something that has been really difficult for me to try to understand. Going on study abroad means that you want to get outside of your culture and into someone else's, and in a country where almost no one speaks the native language except for it's citizens, that experience for me has been found more among my fellow exchange students. These are kids from all over the world, but mainly from countries within the EU who are here on the Erasmus program. My friend Colin has some... interesting... roommates. One of which is Gergo, (Pronounced "gehr-goo") from Hungary. I have never had the opportunity to talk to him about his national identity, but I have heard the results of these conversations from Colin while he tries to wrap his head around them over dinner or coffee with our little traveling gang. For Gergo, Hungarian identity is intertwined with ethnicity and you cannot separate the two. Because of this, the presence of Gypsies in his country is very upsetting to him. In our class on EU Enlargement, he asked if there was a way for Hungary to make it so that only Hungarians could buy land, because they don't like "others" to come in and take it. The situation in his country is this: couple the dying out of his ethnicity (following what seems to be a pan-European, including Russia, trend) with an influx of immigrants (the most visible in their poverty being the Gypsy population) and you have a paranoid nationalist like Gergo, who believes that all Gypsies are evil and that the only way to save his country is for a civil war to break out that wipes the Gypsy population off the map. Gergo has had four bad encounters with Gypsies, at least one of which was a mugging, so I can see how his experiences would lead him to believe the stereotypes. But what I can't understand is how a country's identity can be so firmly based on one type of people, because this system seems bound to fail in our changing world. He looks at our system, one that I have realized through considering his differing point of view is based on a civic identity instead of an ethnic or really cultural one, and sees us as bound to fail. In times of real crisis, he says, we will turn against each other and rely on our ethnic identities instead of our nationalistic ones. His ideas scare me, because he is an incredibly intelligent guy otherwise, but he completely and totally believes that the Gypsies will bring the downfall of his country. He also believes in the civil war that is coming between the Hungarians and the Gypsies. Whenever this comes up in conversation, it makes me feel very uncomfortable, because national identity based on racism and prejudice never seems to get anyone anywhere good, and in my opinion is just wrong. It takes a lot of control for me not to tell him that, and the reason I feel like i shouldn't is because we come from entirely different backgrounds. My understanding of what is right and wrong (and obviously so) is different from his at least on this one point, and we both feel that we have the truth on our side.
In my own mind, though, I do think that identity struggles like these will be the economic downfall (and slow population death) of countries like Hungary if some new ideologies aren't embraced in the next few generations (and in the case of the economy, the next few years). When your work force is getting progressively smaller due to declining birth rates, it negatively affects the productivity of your country and your economic stability. Young immigrants who become a part of society can help reduce the economic impact, but only if they are allowed to work and succeed in society without being made into social lepers. It seems to me that Gergo's way of thought, though completely focused on Hungary's salvation, can only really lead to it's eventually collapse.
First up, the long awaited Hungarian identity. This is something that has been really difficult for me to try to understand. Going on study abroad means that you want to get outside of your culture and into someone else's, and in a country where almost no one speaks the native language except for it's citizens, that experience for me has been found more among my fellow exchange students. These are kids from all over the world, but mainly from countries within the EU who are here on the Erasmus program. My friend Colin has some... interesting... roommates. One of which is Gergo, (Pronounced "gehr-goo") from Hungary. I have never had the opportunity to talk to him about his national identity, but I have heard the results of these conversations from Colin while he tries to wrap his head around them over dinner or coffee with our little traveling gang. For Gergo, Hungarian identity is intertwined with ethnicity and you cannot separate the two. Because of this, the presence of Gypsies in his country is very upsetting to him. In our class on EU Enlargement, he asked if there was a way for Hungary to make it so that only Hungarians could buy land, because they don't like "others" to come in and take it. The situation in his country is this: couple the dying out of his ethnicity (following what seems to be a pan-European, including Russia, trend) with an influx of immigrants (the most visible in their poverty being the Gypsy population) and you have a paranoid nationalist like Gergo, who believes that all Gypsies are evil and that the only way to save his country is for a civil war to break out that wipes the Gypsy population off the map. Gergo has had four bad encounters with Gypsies, at least one of which was a mugging, so I can see how his experiences would lead him to believe the stereotypes. But what I can't understand is how a country's identity can be so firmly based on one type of people, because this system seems bound to fail in our changing world. He looks at our system, one that I have realized through considering his differing point of view is based on a civic identity instead of an ethnic or really cultural one, and sees us as bound to fail. In times of real crisis, he says, we will turn against each other and rely on our ethnic identities instead of our nationalistic ones. His ideas scare me, because he is an incredibly intelligent guy otherwise, but he completely and totally believes that the Gypsies will bring the downfall of his country. He also believes in the civil war that is coming between the Hungarians and the Gypsies. Whenever this comes up in conversation, it makes me feel very uncomfortable, because national identity based on racism and prejudice never seems to get anyone anywhere good, and in my opinion is just wrong. It takes a lot of control for me not to tell him that, and the reason I feel like i shouldn't is because we come from entirely different backgrounds. My understanding of what is right and wrong (and obviously so) is different from his at least on this one point, and we both feel that we have the truth on our side.
In my own mind, though, I do think that identity struggles like these will be the economic downfall (and slow population death) of countries like Hungary if some new ideologies aren't embraced in the next few generations (and in the case of the economy, the next few years). When your work force is getting progressively smaller due to declining birth rates, it negatively affects the productivity of your country and your economic stability. Young immigrants who become a part of society can help reduce the economic impact, but only if they are allowed to work and succeed in society without being made into social lepers. It seems to me that Gergo's way of thought, though completely focused on Hungary's salvation, can only really lead to it's eventually collapse.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
So it's still snowing
As I sit here in Werner cafe, which I found out was the hot spot for Estonian intellectuals in the early 20th century (right before they won their independence from the Russian Empire after WWI, kicked the Bolsheviks out of Estonia, and experienced ten years of democracy before their first Prime Minister became a dictator and then the country fell to the USSR), I'm thinking about a lot of things that have slowly come out of the woodwork. For the last two months, it seemed and felt like any assumptions I had about the differences between my culture and this culture were wrong and that twenty years since the USSR's collapse were more than enough for Estonia to become as Western as any other country.
When I brought this up with two Estonians who came out with me to celebrate my appointment to Director of Social Justice for the Unity Coalition at St. Edward's, the immediate response from Indrek was that it was because I hadn't really gotten into Estonian society. The presence of the old Soviet state of mind is palpable in all areas of Estonian society, from the way that teachers view education to the job market. Teachers who learned how to educate while under the USSR expect the students to listen as they lecture and have no emphasis on dialogue or questioning in the classroom. Older citizens of Estonia tend to fall into two groups, according to my Estonian friends. There are those who can think for themselves and are happy in this newly independent and capitalist country, and there are those who relied on the socialist system so heavily for their life goals that the individualism required for success in the laissez-faire economy has pushed them to depression as Estonia progressed. This applies to the job market as well, where, for seventy years, Estonians were guaranteed a job and did not have to think about what their future would hold. In the current economic crisis, I will admit that I can see the attraction to such a system. Then, Indrek said something that really shook me from my fantasy of a job after college: "These things are not always bad, but there was no freedom." As an American, I can certainly understand the importance of freedom to every citizen of a country. This is the trade-off that people had to make for such security, and all subversion had to be communicated through Estonian irony, or, as Christina said, "You had to learn to read - and write - between the lines, because otherwise the censors would find the message. This is why Estonian humor is so ironic. It's something we are known for." When talking about the singing revolution and the pacifistic tone of Estonian nationalism, I commented on the difference between their revolution, focused on the ability for Estonians to gather together and endeavor towards one common goal that had not been dictated by the government, and ours, where we beat our oppressors in bloody combat, IndreK responded, "But we are only one million in Estonia. Russia could find one million soldiers in a minute. There is a saying that Estonia may be weak in numbers, but we are strong in spirit." I was almost brought to tears by this statement, because it seemed so true, and in the two months that I have lived here I have grown to love this city as my own.
It's time to meet my tutor for a group reunion, so I must be off, but expect a blog about American vs. Hungarian nationalism in the near future.
Nagemist,
moi
When I brought this up with two Estonians who came out with me to celebrate my appointment to Director of Social Justice for the Unity Coalition at St. Edward's, the immediate response from Indrek was that it was because I hadn't really gotten into Estonian society. The presence of the old Soviet state of mind is palpable in all areas of Estonian society, from the way that teachers view education to the job market. Teachers who learned how to educate while under the USSR expect the students to listen as they lecture and have no emphasis on dialogue or questioning in the classroom. Older citizens of Estonia tend to fall into two groups, according to my Estonian friends. There are those who can think for themselves and are happy in this newly independent and capitalist country, and there are those who relied on the socialist system so heavily for their life goals that the individualism required for success in the laissez-faire economy has pushed them to depression as Estonia progressed. This applies to the job market as well, where, for seventy years, Estonians were guaranteed a job and did not have to think about what their future would hold. In the current economic crisis, I will admit that I can see the attraction to such a system. Then, Indrek said something that really shook me from my fantasy of a job after college: "These things are not always bad, but there was no freedom." As an American, I can certainly understand the importance of freedom to every citizen of a country. This is the trade-off that people had to make for such security, and all subversion had to be communicated through Estonian irony, or, as Christina said, "You had to learn to read - and write - between the lines, because otherwise the censors would find the message. This is why Estonian humor is so ironic. It's something we are known for." When talking about the singing revolution and the pacifistic tone of Estonian nationalism, I commented on the difference between their revolution, focused on the ability for Estonians to gather together and endeavor towards one common goal that had not been dictated by the government, and ours, where we beat our oppressors in bloody combat, IndreK responded, "But we are only one million in Estonia. Russia could find one million soldiers in a minute. There is a saying that Estonia may be weak in numbers, but we are strong in spirit." I was almost brought to tears by this statement, because it seemed so true, and in the two months that I have lived here I have grown to love this city as my own.
It's time to meet my tutor for a group reunion, so I must be off, but expect a blog about American vs. Hungarian nationalism in the near future.
Nagemist,
moi
Friday, March 20, 2009
Winter, it seems, is slowly leaving Estonia
As I wait for my water to boil so that I can eat my pasta, I have a lot to think about. Today I am going skiing for the first time, but it may be the last weekend when there is snow enough to ski. This is incredibly exciting, but also kind of sad, because it is a physical and ever-present indicator that time is passing. Of course, if you measure the passing of time in Estonia by the melting of the snow and ice, then you would think for the last month and a half that time had stood still.
There was a movie night a few nights ago and they showed the French movie "L'Auberge Espagnol," a movie about a guy who goes on Erasmus to Spain. I've seen it before at St. Ed's when the OIE showed it in Jones and I really enjoyed it then, but now it was a lot more poignant. Erasmus is a program that works within the the EU to allow university students to spend semesters abroad in other European countries. This guy was going through so many of the motions that I had to do, and experiencing so many emotions that I have felt while here. Some of my friends said they didn't like it, because it made them sad. At the end of the movie, he leaves Spain and goes home and finds himself on a street in his hometown, Paris, that only the tourists go to. He goes there because he feels at home, as he says, "A stranger among the strangers." I think that this will be true for me when I go home to Texas, I will be a stranger in lot of ways. I won't have been living in Austin for five months, and I will have left somewhere that I call home to get there.
My friends and I here have a habit of going on spontaneous walks so late at night that its actually early morning. We just walk without a purpose and end up on new streets where we haven't been before, and it really helps to familiarize ourselves with the city. Tartu is so small that its quite difficult to get lost no matter how little you know about the place you are. If you just keep walking in any direction you're bound to find yourself somewhere you already know. Last time, we were taking our stroll and ended up on the street beneath the soviet-era Methodist church, and there was a huge snowbank next to the sidewalk. Colin just kind of threw himself face first into the snow where the bank was long enough to support his whole body vertically. Eventually all four of ended up crunched into the snowbank looking up at the sky. I told them all to stop talking for just a moment and listen, and all there was was silence. I just listened to the silence of winter and watched the snowflakes falling softly in the streetlight, and felt completely content.
I really am starting to be completely at home here, and part of that is falling into a schedule. I have friends that I study, work out, and eat with a lot of days because we've discovered that group meals are a lot less expensive than individual meals. Speaking of meals, I've been learning a lot of new recipes that I plan to bring back to the US.
My International Cookbook:
CousCous:
-1 boullion cube
-frozen vegetables
-fresh garlic
-2 eggs
-couscous
-oil
1. Fill pot with 1 cm water and boil with boullion cube
2. when it comes to a boil, pour couscous almost level with the water. cover and set aside.
3. pour a thin layer of oil into a saucepan, turn on high heat.
4. peal and crush garlic
5. add garlic to oil and let simmer
6. when the garlic is golden brown, add the vegetables. stir constantly to ensure that all veggies get cooked thouroughly.
7. when the vegetables are almost done, crack the eggs into the pan and scramble them with the veggies.
8. add veggies and eggs to the couscous, mix and serve hot.
I probably eat this once a day. It is delicious!
Moldovan Crepes
-seven heaping tablespoons of flour
-1 liter of milk
-5 eggs
-sugar and salt to taste
-oil
1. scramble eggs until the protein is no longer visible and the eggs are completely smooth
2. add to milk and stir
3. in a large bowl, measure out the flour. add milk and egg mixture slowly until there are no lumps of flour.
4. stir the flour mixture into the rest of the milk and egg mixture in whichever bowl is bigger.
5. add approximately a tablespoon of sugar and a sprinkle of salt. taste the batter, and if it seems to taste the way you want it to, leave it for now. otherwise, add sugar and salt to taste.
6. pour a little oil into the batter and into a saucepan. cover the whole saucepan with oil and heat on high.
7. using a ladle, pour the batter onto the hot oiled saucepan and make sure that the batter forms a thin layer across the whole pan.
8. when the edges start to brown, pick up from the thinnest side and flip using your hands.
9. when the other side starts to look golden brown, pick up and lay onto a plate. continue until all the batter is gone.
serve with jam and sour cream, or ice cream for dessert.
Cigarborek (Turkish)
-Philo dough, thawed
-feta cheese
-fresh coriander (or spinach)
-milk
-egg yolks
-oil
1. flour a large flat surface and lay out the philo dough. roll until it is as thin as possible without tearing.
2. cut it into triangles about as big as your hand, or slightly smaller
3. combine feta and chopped up coriander
4. combine milk and egg yolks to fill a small bowl
5. coat triangle with the egg yolk mixture
6. place a thin line of feta mixture on the triangle and fold and roll so all sides are closed.
7. when all of the boreks have been rolled, heat half an inch of oil in a saucepan
8. fry until golden brown, serve hot.
I've also gotten quite good at the Southwestern Cornbread (skillet cornbread with jalapenos) but I can't remember the exact measurements without the recipe.
My roomate has started hanging out with me and my friends more, and we've made an effort to hang out with more international students instead of just as the four of us. We still do most of our traveling just together, though.
I went skiing for the first time in Oteppa, the highest point in Estonia (and it is basically a low hill). I fell a lot and almost didn't make it up on the ski lift, because it was one that you stand up and hold on to instead of sitting on, but once I got the hang of that I made it to the top of the hill. It was incredibly frightening looking down the slope, and I couldn't quite get the wedge movement down so I ended up speeding down the hill and falling a lot, but when you get going down the slope its incredibly exhilarating. I fully intend on getting a ski trip group together when I get back to Texas! With a lot of help from some Dutch, Turkish, British, and American friends, I made it all the way down the hill without falling! It was an incredible feeling.
Now I have to go study to make sure I get the most out of this experience, but I have this feeling that all of the out of school activities are what I'm learning the most from here.
There was a movie night a few nights ago and they showed the French movie "L'Auberge Espagnol," a movie about a guy who goes on Erasmus to Spain. I've seen it before at St. Ed's when the OIE showed it in Jones and I really enjoyed it then, but now it was a lot more poignant. Erasmus is a program that works within the the EU to allow university students to spend semesters abroad in other European countries. This guy was going through so many of the motions that I had to do, and experiencing so many emotions that I have felt while here. Some of my friends said they didn't like it, because it made them sad. At the end of the movie, he leaves Spain and goes home and finds himself on a street in his hometown, Paris, that only the tourists go to. He goes there because he feels at home, as he says, "A stranger among the strangers." I think that this will be true for me when I go home to Texas, I will be a stranger in lot of ways. I won't have been living in Austin for five months, and I will have left somewhere that I call home to get there.
My friends and I here have a habit of going on spontaneous walks so late at night that its actually early morning. We just walk without a purpose and end up on new streets where we haven't been before, and it really helps to familiarize ourselves with the city. Tartu is so small that its quite difficult to get lost no matter how little you know about the place you are. If you just keep walking in any direction you're bound to find yourself somewhere you already know. Last time, we were taking our stroll and ended up on the street beneath the soviet-era Methodist church, and there was a huge snowbank next to the sidewalk. Colin just kind of threw himself face first into the snow where the bank was long enough to support his whole body vertically. Eventually all four of ended up crunched into the snowbank looking up at the sky. I told them all to stop talking for just a moment and listen, and all there was was silence. I just listened to the silence of winter and watched the snowflakes falling softly in the streetlight, and felt completely content.
I really am starting to be completely at home here, and part of that is falling into a schedule. I have friends that I study, work out, and eat with a lot of days because we've discovered that group meals are a lot less expensive than individual meals. Speaking of meals, I've been learning a lot of new recipes that I plan to bring back to the US.
My International Cookbook:
CousCous:
-1 boullion cube
-frozen vegetables
-fresh garlic
-2 eggs
-couscous
-oil
1. Fill pot with 1 cm water and boil with boullion cube
2. when it comes to a boil, pour couscous almost level with the water. cover and set aside.
3. pour a thin layer of oil into a saucepan, turn on high heat.
4. peal and crush garlic
5. add garlic to oil and let simmer
6. when the garlic is golden brown, add the vegetables. stir constantly to ensure that all veggies get cooked thouroughly.
7. when the vegetables are almost done, crack the eggs into the pan and scramble them with the veggies.
8. add veggies and eggs to the couscous, mix and serve hot.
I probably eat this once a day. It is delicious!
Moldovan Crepes
-seven heaping tablespoons of flour
-1 liter of milk
-5 eggs
-sugar and salt to taste
-oil
1. scramble eggs until the protein is no longer visible and the eggs are completely smooth
2. add to milk and stir
3. in a large bowl, measure out the flour. add milk and egg mixture slowly until there are no lumps of flour.
4. stir the flour mixture into the rest of the milk and egg mixture in whichever bowl is bigger.
5. add approximately a tablespoon of sugar and a sprinkle of salt. taste the batter, and if it seems to taste the way you want it to, leave it for now. otherwise, add sugar and salt to taste.
6. pour a little oil into the batter and into a saucepan. cover the whole saucepan with oil and heat on high.
7. using a ladle, pour the batter onto the hot oiled saucepan and make sure that the batter forms a thin layer across the whole pan.
8. when the edges start to brown, pick up from the thinnest side and flip using your hands.
9. when the other side starts to look golden brown, pick up and lay onto a plate. continue until all the batter is gone.
serve with jam and sour cream, or ice cream for dessert.
Cigarborek (Turkish)
-Philo dough, thawed
-feta cheese
-fresh coriander (or spinach)
-milk
-egg yolks
-oil
1. flour a large flat surface and lay out the philo dough. roll until it is as thin as possible without tearing.
2. cut it into triangles about as big as your hand, or slightly smaller
3. combine feta and chopped up coriander
4. combine milk and egg yolks to fill a small bowl
5. coat triangle with the egg yolk mixture
6. place a thin line of feta mixture on the triangle and fold and roll so all sides are closed.
7. when all of the boreks have been rolled, heat half an inch of oil in a saucepan
8. fry until golden brown, serve hot.
I've also gotten quite good at the Southwestern Cornbread (skillet cornbread with jalapenos) but I can't remember the exact measurements without the recipe.
My roomate has started hanging out with me and my friends more, and we've made an effort to hang out with more international students instead of just as the four of us. We still do most of our traveling just together, though.
I went skiing for the first time in Oteppa, the highest point in Estonia (and it is basically a low hill). I fell a lot and almost didn't make it up on the ski lift, because it was one that you stand up and hold on to instead of sitting on, but once I got the hang of that I made it to the top of the hill. It was incredibly frightening looking down the slope, and I couldn't quite get the wedge movement down so I ended up speeding down the hill and falling a lot, but when you get going down the slope its incredibly exhilarating. I fully intend on getting a ski trip group together when I get back to Texas! With a lot of help from some Dutch, Turkish, British, and American friends, I made it all the way down the hill without falling! It was an incredible feeling.
Now I have to go study to make sure I get the most out of this experience, but I have this feeling that all of the out of school activities are what I'm learning the most from here.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
I'm going to try to make this a regular thing
I think I may need to have a journal of sorts when I get back from Estonia, so I'm pretty sure I need to do this basically weekly to get credit for being here.
At first I thought that, aside from the language barrier and how much more quiet Estonians are compared to people from the US, Tartu was basically a town in America. Just next to Russia. The country's complete commitment to a laissez-faire economic model and their quick capitalist expansion has left the part of town that I see every day just like any other small town's economic center. There is a quaint old town center lined with cafes and shops, three huge malls right next to each other down the street, and groceries stores in every direction. The main difference I noticed is that you can walk everywhere.
Now that I'm trying to hunker down and become focused, though, I'm starting to realize that part of the challenge is dealing with the subtle changes. I didn't even think about the fact that the only place I can truly concentrate when I study is located in the St. Edward's library. When I need to focus in on the academic task at hand, I take all of my materials with me and head to the second floor and to the very back of the study area. I push the two chairs in the nook together, turn on the lamp, plug in my laptop, and get to work. I'm not the kind of person that can focus in a loud coffee shop or restaurant, which seems to be what people do here, and I haven't been able to find a space as cozy and personal as that space back home. I hate Starbucks for multiple reasons, but yesterday I found myself just wishing I could go to Starbucks, grab one drink, and sit in a plush chair for hours just studying. I don't know the etiquette of studying in cafes here, and I haven't been around to enough of the cafes to know exactly which are cozy and which aren't. I'm thinking that now, after all of the newness of Tartu is settling down and we are all starting to focus in on becoming more studious, I am really going to start feeling the challenges of being abroad. Changing your study habits to fit a new place is quite a difficult thing.
I just finished watching the movie Miracle with Peter and Olesea, and I was, as per usual, moved by the shameless nationalism. There is just something about those sports movies that makes you all proud and stuff. When I left home, I was very, very angry at my home country. I felt like we were complete bullies, and I was afraid that Barack Obama, political love of my life, would turn out to be just another politician who used empty rhetoric to get into power and then just continued to economically colonize the rest of the world. I basically saw my country as the ultimate Marxist capitalist villainous machine, and couldn't find it in myself to be proud when I saw it as the reason for so much global suffering. Deep down inside, I truly hoped that leaving would allow me to, if not love my country as blindly and naively as I had as a child, at least appreciate it for exactly what it is. As I watched Miracle, I felt the first stirrings of that in myself. I realized that no, America is no better than any other country, but it is every bit as good. I have every right to be proud of my country, and not because it is the best, not because we are somehow the most proud, the most idealistic, with the best ethics, because we aren't. We are not the only country that believes, at least in our rhetoric, in equality and human rights and human dignity. We may disagree with other countries on what those things mean, but that doesn't mean we are any better. It simply means we are different. But it also doesn't mean that we are any worse. We are a country that needs to have uniting and inspiring ideals to bring us together despite our mixed heritage, because we do not have one American ethnicity and tradition to provide our common bond. Our bond is through our idealistic history, and that is starting to be OK with me. I can be happy to say I am American, because I don't have to believe that we are the best country in the world to do so. I can learn to see my country for its qualities and its flaws, and appreciate it all the same.
I guess I really am changing.
:)
At first I thought that, aside from the language barrier and how much more quiet Estonians are compared to people from the US, Tartu was basically a town in America. Just next to Russia. The country's complete commitment to a laissez-faire economic model and their quick capitalist expansion has left the part of town that I see every day just like any other small town's economic center. There is a quaint old town center lined with cafes and shops, three huge malls right next to each other down the street, and groceries stores in every direction. The main difference I noticed is that you can walk everywhere.
Now that I'm trying to hunker down and become focused, though, I'm starting to realize that part of the challenge is dealing with the subtle changes. I didn't even think about the fact that the only place I can truly concentrate when I study is located in the St. Edward's library. When I need to focus in on the academic task at hand, I take all of my materials with me and head to the second floor and to the very back of the study area. I push the two chairs in the nook together, turn on the lamp, plug in my laptop, and get to work. I'm not the kind of person that can focus in a loud coffee shop or restaurant, which seems to be what people do here, and I haven't been able to find a space as cozy and personal as that space back home. I hate Starbucks for multiple reasons, but yesterday I found myself just wishing I could go to Starbucks, grab one drink, and sit in a plush chair for hours just studying. I don't know the etiquette of studying in cafes here, and I haven't been around to enough of the cafes to know exactly which are cozy and which aren't. I'm thinking that now, after all of the newness of Tartu is settling down and we are all starting to focus in on becoming more studious, I am really going to start feeling the challenges of being abroad. Changing your study habits to fit a new place is quite a difficult thing.
I just finished watching the movie Miracle with Peter and Olesea, and I was, as per usual, moved by the shameless nationalism. There is just something about those sports movies that makes you all proud and stuff. When I left home, I was very, very angry at my home country. I felt like we were complete bullies, and I was afraid that Barack Obama, political love of my life, would turn out to be just another politician who used empty rhetoric to get into power and then just continued to economically colonize the rest of the world. I basically saw my country as the ultimate Marxist capitalist villainous machine, and couldn't find it in myself to be proud when I saw it as the reason for so much global suffering. Deep down inside, I truly hoped that leaving would allow me to, if not love my country as blindly and naively as I had as a child, at least appreciate it for exactly what it is. As I watched Miracle, I felt the first stirrings of that in myself. I realized that no, America is no better than any other country, but it is every bit as good. I have every right to be proud of my country, and not because it is the best, not because we are somehow the most proud, the most idealistic, with the best ethics, because we aren't. We are not the only country that believes, at least in our rhetoric, in equality and human rights and human dignity. We may disagree with other countries on what those things mean, but that doesn't mean we are any better. It simply means we are different. But it also doesn't mean that we are any worse. We are a country that needs to have uniting and inspiring ideals to bring us together despite our mixed heritage, because we do not have one American ethnicity and tradition to provide our common bond. Our bond is through our idealistic history, and that is starting to be OK with me. I can be happy to say I am American, because I don't have to believe that we are the best country in the world to do so. I can learn to see my country for its qualities and its flaws, and appreciate it all the same.
I guess I really am changing.
:)
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Tere!
So, this post has been a long time coming.
I'm in Estonia, where it is always cold. Or so it seems. And, until recently, it seemed that the sun never shone and the pavement was always covered in a layer of precariously slippery (or, at least for me) ice. I fell at least four times within the first two weeks, but now I'm pretty much amazing at fall recovery.
I am also using this blog entry to distract me from the fact that I still haven't done any research for a paper that I'm supposed to be mapping out tonight with my partner, Niels, from the Netherlands.
In the dorm, I live on the sixth floor. This is a good thing in some cases, as there aren't parties going on outside of my door all the time so if I wasn't such a hug procrastinator I could study if I wanted to without interruption. But, it is also bad, because most of the socializing between international students takes place on the fourth floor, and I can't get in unless someone opens the door for me. Not that people keep me out, its just that parties happen spontaneously, and when you aren't on the floor, you miss out.
That said, I do live with three girls from different countries. Olesea is my roomate, and she is from Moldova. We also share a kitchen with Olga, a law student from Russia, and Sofia from Sweden. I haven't had the chance to talk to Olga much, but I have learned a lot about former USSR culture, and the state of Moldova in general, from Olesea. For example, in Moldova (and in many other former USSR countries), at Christmas you don't give presents. You just go into the villages and see family, but there aren't any big celebrations like there are in the states. This is because of the Soviet government's stance on religion. They rebelled, though, in the form of new traditions for the new year. On new year's day, they give each other presents the way that we do on Christmas. I thought this was a really fascinating cultural difference. They also celebrate spring on the first of March by making little decorations of red ribbon or string and giving them to their friends. When the celebration is over, they place them in trees or around the town. These little keepsakes are never thrown away. They also celebrate International Women's Day, which is today! It is a holiday recognized by the UN and I think that it should be celebrated in the US as much as it is in Moldova. Instead of having a day that is just for mothers, this day celebrates women of all ages simply for being women and is a result of the international recognition of the past trials of women in their struggle for equality. How cool is that? And all of the people give small (or large, depending on the closeness of the relationship) gifts to the women in their lives. Husbands to wives, guy friends to girl friends, and women give each other gifts, too. Next March 8, I think it would be a great idea to use International Women's Day to raise money for a cause that uplifts women, like microlending to developing countries, by selling carnations to give to your friends for women's day on campus.
Hopefully someone other than me will remember that.
In other news, a big part of Estonian social life is going out to pubs. They have pubs with such character here! There is one called Big Ben, an english pub with big comfy chairs and old fashioned phones for calling other tables (and the bartenders), and another called the Gunpowder Cellar which was actually commissioned by Catherine the Great to be an ammunition cellar and is now the pub with the highest ceiling in the world. No lie. There is another called Maailm, which means world, and its brightly painted walls, swing seats, and constant reggae beats make it such a cool place to hang out (but the loud music can make it hard to talk). I'll admit that the first month was a blur of restaurants and pubs with classes that seemed mainly like an afterthought, but now that I've settled in I'm starting to love just walking around the city and spending quiet(er) nights in the dorm with my new friends.
I was hoping to meet tons of international people who would become my besties, but in the end it was a small (think three) group of Americans that I ended up connecting the most with. We have a lot of things in common, most excitingly our desire to travel on the cheap and be tourists all around Europe, and we get along really well. We took our first trip to Finland last weekend, and it was just incredible. I've never seen such a gorgeous place, and the europeans say that its the most ugly capitol in Europe. It is also exceedingly expensive, and the exchange rate was quite painful for those four days. One of the things that I found so amazing was how close everything in Helsinki was to everything else. You look on the map and you think, oh God, how are we ever going to walk there? But then you realize that it's only about five minutes away, and its like the whole of the city opens up to you. We visited churches and compared ideas of what a church should be, had epic snowball fights, tried to visit parliament, ate a bear and reindeer pizza (that we made ourselves), visited a bar made of ice, saw the Olympic stadium from 1952 and the famous sculpture, went to museums (and saw the first Van Gogh ever purchased for a museum collection), went ice skating outdoors next to the famous train station designed by Eliel Saarinen, and spent a day on an island holding an sea fortress older than our country. But, lots of things in Finland are older than our country, so I guess that wasn't too surprising. I stayed in my first hostel and fell in love with the spirit of student travel in Europe and had some salsa that was almost as good as home (but not quite). In the end, I was so happy to be back home in Tartu. That is when I realized that, just like how Austin became the place I'm "from," Estonia is becoming a place I can return to.
I came to Estonia thinking that I would meet a group of people completely different from myself, because of our incredibly different recent history. I thought of all of the difficulties that come with transitioning from a Soviet territory to a capitalist democracy in such a short time, and I assumed that the struggle would be more obvious, but it isn't. What I've found here in Estonia is just another example of how we really are all the same. Despite our history, all of us search for the same things in life if we have the security to do so, and the Estonians certainly do. They are one of the most successful former USSR countries and are taking the economic crisis in stride. They are, dare I say, more free-market focused than the United States. When asked what policies the government would implement to respond to the crisis, a government official replied that if construction jobs weren't what the market needed there was no sense in creating policies to protect them.
I am also fascinated by the graffiti in Estonia. Graffiti on the 1st street bridge across Town Lake is one thing, but graffiti on the Angel's bridge (finished in 1816 and renovated in 1913) is completely different. Political (and social) commentary through urban art is a lot more striking when its found on something so old and beautiful. It almost gives it more weight, because it visually shows the clash of old and new ideas and feelings in this country. I've made it my goal to document as much of it as I can and, if I have the extra time, to find someone who can help me understand the significance of the pictures I'm taking.
Well, I have to stop procrastinating and get to Security Council paper business. :)
More later...
-me
I'm in Estonia, where it is always cold. Or so it seems. And, until recently, it seemed that the sun never shone and the pavement was always covered in a layer of precariously slippery (or, at least for me) ice. I fell at least four times within the first two weeks, but now I'm pretty much amazing at fall recovery.
I am also using this blog entry to distract me from the fact that I still haven't done any research for a paper that I'm supposed to be mapping out tonight with my partner, Niels, from the Netherlands.
In the dorm, I live on the sixth floor. This is a good thing in some cases, as there aren't parties going on outside of my door all the time so if I wasn't such a hug procrastinator I could study if I wanted to without interruption. But, it is also bad, because most of the socializing between international students takes place on the fourth floor, and I can't get in unless someone opens the door for me. Not that people keep me out, its just that parties happen spontaneously, and when you aren't on the floor, you miss out.
That said, I do live with three girls from different countries. Olesea is my roomate, and she is from Moldova. We also share a kitchen with Olga, a law student from Russia, and Sofia from Sweden. I haven't had the chance to talk to Olga much, but I have learned a lot about former USSR culture, and the state of Moldova in general, from Olesea. For example, in Moldova (and in many other former USSR countries), at Christmas you don't give presents. You just go into the villages and see family, but there aren't any big celebrations like there are in the states. This is because of the Soviet government's stance on religion. They rebelled, though, in the form of new traditions for the new year. On new year's day, they give each other presents the way that we do on Christmas. I thought this was a really fascinating cultural difference. They also celebrate spring on the first of March by making little decorations of red ribbon or string and giving them to their friends. When the celebration is over, they place them in trees or around the town. These little keepsakes are never thrown away. They also celebrate International Women's Day, which is today! It is a holiday recognized by the UN and I think that it should be celebrated in the US as much as it is in Moldova. Instead of having a day that is just for mothers, this day celebrates women of all ages simply for being women and is a result of the international recognition of the past trials of women in their struggle for equality. How cool is that? And all of the people give small (or large, depending on the closeness of the relationship) gifts to the women in their lives. Husbands to wives, guy friends to girl friends, and women give each other gifts, too. Next March 8, I think it would be a great idea to use International Women's Day to raise money for a cause that uplifts women, like microlending to developing countries, by selling carnations to give to your friends for women's day on campus.
Hopefully someone other than me will remember that.
In other news, a big part of Estonian social life is going out to pubs. They have pubs with such character here! There is one called Big Ben, an english pub with big comfy chairs and old fashioned phones for calling other tables (and the bartenders), and another called the Gunpowder Cellar which was actually commissioned by Catherine the Great to be an ammunition cellar and is now the pub with the highest ceiling in the world. No lie. There is another called Maailm, which means world, and its brightly painted walls, swing seats, and constant reggae beats make it such a cool place to hang out (but the loud music can make it hard to talk). I'll admit that the first month was a blur of restaurants and pubs with classes that seemed mainly like an afterthought, but now that I've settled in I'm starting to love just walking around the city and spending quiet(er) nights in the dorm with my new friends.
I was hoping to meet tons of international people who would become my besties, but in the end it was a small (think three) group of Americans that I ended up connecting the most with. We have a lot of things in common, most excitingly our desire to travel on the cheap and be tourists all around Europe, and we get along really well. We took our first trip to Finland last weekend, and it was just incredible. I've never seen such a gorgeous place, and the europeans say that its the most ugly capitol in Europe. It is also exceedingly expensive, and the exchange rate was quite painful for those four days. One of the things that I found so amazing was how close everything in Helsinki was to everything else. You look on the map and you think, oh God, how are we ever going to walk there? But then you realize that it's only about five minutes away, and its like the whole of the city opens up to you. We visited churches and compared ideas of what a church should be, had epic snowball fights, tried to visit parliament, ate a bear and reindeer pizza (that we made ourselves), visited a bar made of ice, saw the Olympic stadium from 1952 and the famous sculpture, went to museums (and saw the first Van Gogh ever purchased for a museum collection), went ice skating outdoors next to the famous train station designed by Eliel Saarinen, and spent a day on an island holding an sea fortress older than our country. But, lots of things in Finland are older than our country, so I guess that wasn't too surprising. I stayed in my first hostel and fell in love with the spirit of student travel in Europe and had some salsa that was almost as good as home (but not quite). In the end, I was so happy to be back home in Tartu. That is when I realized that, just like how Austin became the place I'm "from," Estonia is becoming a place I can return to.
I came to Estonia thinking that I would meet a group of people completely different from myself, because of our incredibly different recent history. I thought of all of the difficulties that come with transitioning from a Soviet territory to a capitalist democracy in such a short time, and I assumed that the struggle would be more obvious, but it isn't. What I've found here in Estonia is just another example of how we really are all the same. Despite our history, all of us search for the same things in life if we have the security to do so, and the Estonians certainly do. They are one of the most successful former USSR countries and are taking the economic crisis in stride. They are, dare I say, more free-market focused than the United States. When asked what policies the government would implement to respond to the crisis, a government official replied that if construction jobs weren't what the market needed there was no sense in creating policies to protect them.
I am also fascinated by the graffiti in Estonia. Graffiti on the 1st street bridge across Town Lake is one thing, but graffiti on the Angel's bridge (finished in 1816 and renovated in 1913) is completely different. Political (and social) commentary through urban art is a lot more striking when its found on something so old and beautiful. It almost gives it more weight, because it visually shows the clash of old and new ideas and feelings in this country. I've made it my goal to document as much of it as I can and, if I have the extra time, to find someone who can help me understand the significance of the pictures I'm taking.
Well, I have to stop procrastinating and get to Security Council paper business. :)
More later...
-me
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