Stockholm Blockue

I got to Stockholm yesterday. It wasn't easy, for reasons I may or may not elaborate later (after I never finished my Terezin entry, can my blog promises ever be trusted...). My first few hours in Stockholm weren't so pleasant either, mostly because of the weight of my luggage, but also because Nick and I had never agreed on exactly where he was to meet me. Going even a block with my luggage was so daunting that I didn't want to move an inch if I wasn't sure that it was the exact right inch to move. Eventually I dragged my luggage to what seemed like the most logical place I could possibly be. I layed down on the ground with my head against an imitation marble ashtray, looking about as destroyed as I ever had. A cop came by and said something to me in Swedish. 'English,' I asked, and then he supposedly said the same thing to me in English that he had just said in Swedish - 'That looks bad. Move to the bench.' Not only is poverty completely wiped out here... even the appearance of poverty is wiped out. I've been brainstorming ways to bilk the system...

stockholm

when rhys reads this post, he will already be in stockholm, and i will still be in prague.

nice and sleazy

so... looks like i'm breaking up rhys's last entry from prague because i'm here at the dorms with nothing to do but use the computer. anna's in her room drawing a fellow naked. kristen and hannah and kelli were supposed to be here, but, well, they're not. so i'm here in hannah's room waiting for anna's gentleman friend to get dressed. this is not the sleazy part of the entry, i'm gonna get to that.

so there is this one guy in the study abroad program who is more or less a repulsive pervert. i know those are strong words, but those are the only ones that could adequately describe him. all he ever talks about is sleeping with women. he really likes eastern european women who don't speak much english, especially ones that around 30, unless he's 'girl shopping', in which case he likes 'high school aged girls.' he's a sort of tall, awkward, soft-spoken guy. from looking at him, you'd get the impression that he was really in to, like, role playing games or something. one of the first times i ever talked to him, he said that he really wanted to have sexual relations with a woman while he was defecating. ok dude, nice to meet you too...

so he meets these women on the internet and then flies all over the eastern bloc meeting them and, presumably, sleeping with them. anyways, yesterday, he was talking about how he'd met the woman that he was 85% sure that he wanted to marry. we asked him where that 85% came from. he said that he liked that she was close to thirty and hot and didn't speak english. then we asked him where the 15% of doubt came from. he said that he wasn't sure if he could convince her to be bisexual. then he started talking about how hard it was to find the type of woman he wanted to marry. we asked him what his criterion were, he said 'well, around 30 years old, hot, and bisexual, preferably with no knowledge of the english language.' we assured him that there were probably plenty of women like that out there. he said that his ideal life would be having sex with his wife in the morning and then going girlshopping with her in the afternoon and evening.

okay okay. maybe i shouldn't be so judgemental. i think it is okay for a person to be bisexual and all that. but i guess i do think this guy is a big perv. he girlshops for high school girls! then he showed us the letter that he'd written to the woman that he's 85% married to; it went something like this-

"I think you are the hottest woman in Prague. You smell nice. I know that you do not speak English very well, but this is okay. I could teach you English and maybe you could even teach me some Czech. I think it would be fun to shower with you. P.S. I want to do gross things to you."

he was going to have this translated to czech and then he was going to give it to her. the reason i thought of this just now is because i opened myspace to find the following two messages- (i know this is different because i've never met these guys and they probably just copy-paste this message to all the girls they see, but i still think it is funny-weird-gross)

1)do you like to make love? if so I am interested in making love to you!!!!
Alright, forward, but honest, actually I meant to write something else, but i have drunk tyoo muych.

2) Good Day! I am glad to find there are interesting persons in this place! And I would be glad to get acquainted with someone like you! I want to introduce myself: . My real name is [REAL NAME], i also stay in my country Nigeria now. I am 22yrs of age. I will like to use this opportunity to tell u that i'm active and strong in any area .I promise, i will be good to u and take good care of u more than any other person can do, i hope u will like to be in my country Nigeria cos. u will experience some of our cultures , will u like come to my country Nigeria?, with me it will be possible for u. I wanna make a real love with u ok, i realy luv. u, if u don' t want to come to Nigeria then tell me how we gat to meet face to face and share our love together, this is my contact address. My email is [EMAIL]
U can contact me through it

Ur picture trip me, Anyway i'm looking for a pritty lady that is caring and know what is called love that will be my life parttner for life, Even if we don't get married, i want u to be a good friend of mine, the one i can give all my trust and can rely on, then i will send my picture to u for a court marriage, or if it is INVITATION LETTER. While i'm saying this is that it will be fasten our love and we will now have a real love and a physical sex . I hope u have a postal address and phone number, i need all ur contact. Comming to know me much My real name is [NAME], like i said it in the begining,i was born in Enugu State that's my state of origin and i was born in the year 29th march 1983 by the time month of march 2005 will runs over i will become 22 of age. My full contact is [FULL CONTACT] and also my cell phone number will be soon, i give it u. You can easily contact me any time ok.i really care for u sweet heart, ur so sweet, i care for u badly. Have a greate day.
.
pls sweet heart if ur interesting when replying just give me ur postal adress so that i will send my pictures to u ok.

Do u like masquerade?, if u woundn't mind i will purchase it and sent it to u soon, it is one of Nigeria culture , it is a masquerade cultural dance. It is in VCD . Believe me u need to watch it. I love u honey.
With Love From
[NAME]

For real, last blog entry from Prague - Part 1

A couple of weeks ago, I woke up with the idea of posting to PragueBlague after I'd left Prague, pretending I'd gone back to Prague. "I'll trick them!" were the exact words in my half-awake, half-asleep mind. After I woke up for real, I abandonded that idea. There's no fooling you guys. So, I'm going to have to admit it - this could very well be my last blog entry ever from Prague as such. Tomorrow morning I leave for Stockholm, and not long after that Nicole heads southish east. We will still post, but the name PragueBlague will become a bitter-sweet anarchonism. In reality it will be StockholmBlolhmg when I post and AnyNumberofCitiesBlog when Nicole posts. Yes, Prague will still be in our hearts, but the reality of our immediate surroundings will be in our minds.

Yesterday was my second to last day in Prague. I spent most of it in Terezin, the fortress city in the Czech Republic that was once "a police prison of the Prague Gestapo in June 1940; in November 1941, a ghetto and concentration camp for Jews was established in the Large Fortress and town of Terezin." (http://www.photo.net/bp/terezin)

Why did I spend my second to last day in Prague in such a dreary place (a question I asked myself many times yesterday)? I don't know, actually; I just got the idea the night before. I guess I thought it was the best way I could spend the rest of my time here, since going to Auschwitz was so worthwhile. One big difference was that Rachel went to Auschwitz with me, and on the way there, we talked about all the thousands of babies we would have and all the crazy places we would live. Terezin had no such redemption.

Bad omen: someone had scrathed a swastika into the door of the bathroom stall. I can only hope that it was supposed to be the spiritual pre-nazi swastika, but if it was, then why was it painted over? The Jewish Ghetto musuem was way too much to take; not so much emotionally... there was just way too much information. It's hard to read a book when all the pages are posted on the wall (though Rachel and I both agreed that we would wallpaper our thousands of kids' walls with fancy small type words and mucha paintings so that they would always be forced to learn no matter where they looked... even if they try to hide under their blankets, which will be designed with old newspaper pages).

After the museum, I went to the gift shop to buy some Terezin gear for people back home (will you be one of the lucky few who gets a Terezin fanny pack?). Turns out the stuff was really expensive, and I didn't have enough crowns to pay for it. So I asked how much it was in Euros, since I had some Euros left from Berlin (old news but relevant again now that Nicole posted that Berlin photo). I didn't have enough Euros either, so I had to pay in Crowns and Euros. She took every crown I owned and had to pick through my 10 cent Euro coins to raise enough funds for everything I got. This meant that I had absolutely no money left for the bus ride home. Did I ask if I could return the packet of postcards so I could have enough crowns for the bus ride home? No. Did I know that I should? Yes. So why didn't I? Because I'm irrational. Which is also the reason I bought all these heavy souveniers when I had the whole rest of the day ahead of me. And also the reason I refused to take more money out of a cash machine no matter what. The weight of my backpack and the weight of the fear of being stuck in Terezin for the rest of my days was very heavy indeed. But man, those postcards were drawn by Jewish kids who were being taught in secret classes, and the drawings were about their life in the Terezin Ghetto. Definitely worth it.

I wandered back toward where the "Small Fortress," the main event, was supposed to be. The whole town is walled though, so I kind of thought I was already there before I was. I walked down into this grassy valley between the highway and a giant red brick wall. Basically it was an old European ditch that was designed in the 18th century to stop invaders. Long story short, I wasted a lot of time watching snails. There were a ton of snails in this ditch and for some reason I wanted to mess with their heads a little bit. I put five snails, who were originally scattered about the ditch, all right next to each other to see what would happen. I was hoping it would be something like Microcosmos. Instead, all the snails ran away from each other. Some brotherhood! It gave me a good idea for a fable, though. I would tell you, but I don't know who reads this blog. There could be a Hollywood producer out there just waiting to rip off a good idea. So I'll tell you in person. Anyway, snails are really slow, and not always easy to find, so I wasted a lot of time on this venture.

After that, I walked into a strange, dark hole in the brick fortress wall. It went for a really long way and had no light at the end and was really scary. The end of the tunnel was blocked off by wood. I know, I know, I should have broken through, but I ran into a spider web and am horrified of being eaten by brown recluses. So I ran out of there, very scared. It was the most scary thing that happened to me that day. Notice the passive phrasing even though it was my fault that I was in that tunnel? That's because I evade responsibility every chance I get. When I find out who put me in that tunnel, they are going to regert the day they put me in there, that's for sure.

I wandered around the old fortress town for a while. It was pretty interesting, and an urban explorers dream, but I just wasn't in the mood. Maybe it was the backpack or the lack of money or the fear. I looked on the ground for some money near a bicycle ramp, pretty much the only place in this old concentration camp town where kids can have fun (Oswiecim was pretty miserable too; why would anyone raise their kids in a city that used to kill thousands of people a day?). I found half a crown in a pile of dirt on top of an old couch that also had an old tractor tire on top of it. Half a crown used to buy you a lifetime of shaves and haircuts in Prague, but now it's nothing. I would have to rely on my cunning.

I pretty much gave up on seeing any more of Terezin. My goal was to get back to town without taking any money out of the cash machine. Another note on the ATM business - I only had a day left in Prague, and knew the cash machine would force me to take out more than I need.

Okay, I will finish this later.

bloody bunny heads

as we mentioned, rhys and i went to the zoo with some friends on monday. it was pretty fun, as far as zoos go... but not the most fun. the zoo in austria was probably the best zoo i've been too. the most striking features of the prague zoo were not the animals they had on display so much as the cuisine provided for the animals they had on display.

we got to the big cats' cages around their lunchtime, which meant that some of them were ripping in to huge chunks of raw meat, and that others were somewhere behind their cages being provided their raw meats. when we got to one cage, the tiger that was supposed to be there was suspiciously absent. in its place, however, was its lunchtime leftovers...

...guys this is so gross...

...the cage was entirely empty except for this tiny little dead white bunny with its eyes open and all the meat on its legs scraped off, to reveal two tiny little bloody little red bunny leg-bones. i took a picture. i'll post it eventually (hopefully). english steve (who is awesome) spotted the bunny's backside in the next cage over. another cage feature a severed bunny head.

okay okay now i have to keep writing this paper.

pro crastination

the thing is, i can't think about something more than once or twice and then still enjoy writing about it. it feels like i've already written it and that everything i say is somehow stale or overdone, even though it's never actually been written before. that's why my paper that i'm writing right now really sucks. i'm not sure it matters, because the classes here are so undemanding. but it still pains me to have to write something that i don't really like. i'm trying all kinds of different tactics to freshen it up for myself, but they are only moderately helpful. and i left something i very much need at home. oh well.

anyways, i leave my gmail window open when i'm working on the computer. this way i know when i get a new email. it is just so exciting to look down in the corner of the screen and see that the number count has gone up one. but then i never actually respond right away. i just think about my response too much so that when i actually respond it seems like it must be hopelessly boring, when in reality, it's probably okay.

here is a picture of rhys and me in berlin:




here is one in prague




and here's this because it's funny

the first homework of the semester

study abroad classes in prague are sort of a joke. i've done hardly any work. i've learned things- from traveling, from zdenek, from readings- but i've not had any real assignments. i had to skip class this morning because i'm sick and i was feeling rotten. now i have three papers due in the next week. i'm being kicked out of the apartment on may 2, and will have to sleep on the floor in the dorms, which sounds fun (to be w the girls) but a little miserable because i'm allergic to dust, hate noise, and am extremely susceptible to germs, of which there are plenty at the dorms. i was gonna be able to sleep on a mattress, but it turns out that i'm not gonna be able to do that as i though that i was going to be able to do.

i'm not unhappy; i don't want to give you that impression. i'm just a little sick.

i'm getting really excited about post-prague travels, but i'm also really really really sad to leave. if i don't get the job in bama that i want for next year, i might come back here. there are worse places to be. and i like the people i've met here. i might also go to san fransisco to be with darling and chad, my cousins, and will are all also out there. or i may go to chicago to be with brother (who is my favorite person) and leema (who i really want to get to know better). or i could always go back to austin, but that would be moving backwards instead of forwards. or maybe i'll move to new zealand. who knows? hopefully i'll just get the job i want. i'd really like to teach.

anyways, i love school, but these classes are not very challenging (to say the least).


i'm procrastinating. this paper is stupid. i only have half a page left, and then i will only have three papers and a test left in undergraduate school ever.

pictures from spring break

first: the zoo was way fun. i will also miss prague. i will miss rhys. rhys will miss prague. rhys will miss me.

second: here are some pictures from spring break (from ronen) that are awesome.

okay- here's team awesome (which included charley, and started once we got to budapest) before we went in the caves.




here is team awesome while we were just brand new and still in romania (last night in brasov)-



here is me in the caves-




me and charley in the budapest caves-




here's ronen's picture of the creepy weredogs in transylvania




kristen darling, uh, i mean dracula, by a tree




crossroads in the mist




this is enough for now.

Prague lasts

1. Cooking

Last night was the last time I will ever cook in Prague. I made brown rice and barley, and sweet potatoes simmered with cabbage and onions. About half of the sweet potato dish was spice and garlic, since I had so much left and didn't want to waste it. As a consequence, you can hardly taste the sweet potato, but it's just nice to know that it's there. Besides this, we have beet tahini sauce, refried pinto beans, whole wheat cous-cous, red lentils, and stir fried vegetables in the fridge. If we run out, I have bags of dried lentils and yellow split peas. I also have enough oats and flaxseed and walnut milk to last for more than a week, as well as a bunch of seaweed, Country Life bread, tahini, and that French sugarfree jam to finish off. There is no way Nicole and I can finish all this before I go; maybe she can finish it before she goes. There's also some vodka, but I'm not going to touch that stuff after what happened yesterday (see 4). The thing is, I've hardly been hungry at all lately. I've still been eating almost as much as I usually do, which, despite what many think, is a lot (Nicole will back me up on this). It's just that instead of eating out of hunger, I've been eating out of habit and duty. Better than eating out of hate, I guess.

2. Aimlessly wandering

Yesterday was also my last day to aimlessly wander. I did a pretty decent amount of aimless wandering in Prague, but not as much as you might think. Once it stopped snowing, it was harder to get motivated to go outside without a real plan. I didn't do any urban exploration, or steam tunneling, or breaking into Prague movie studios, or any of those adventurous things from my past that are still linked to who I am, or at least who people think I am. Who is the real me, by the way? I hardly even peeked into any doorways where I wasn't supposed to be. I did a little bit, but for the most part I didn't see the point. I mean, it's pretty obvious what's going to be in there. It will either be cardboard boxes, a vacuum cleaner and some chemicals, or a person doing their job. In Prague, the only difference is that the room might have piles of neglected Stalin statues or rusted crucifixes. Once I figured that out, I was content.

But I know people expect more from me, so yesterday I randomly boarded a tram that I'd never taken to see where it would go. I found out it goes to some place I'd already been I tried to convince myself that it was exciting and new, but no, it was utterly recognizable. So I got on the metro and decided to find the Prague Eiffel Tower. If I couldn't explore Prague randomly, at least I would have another thing I did in Prague to talk about for returning to the states judgment day. I half-intentionally lost my way, though, and ended up watching a neighborhood football match for a while. Then I sneezed and got a nose bleed. I had no tissues, so I left pinching my nose. I would have left that way eventually anyway, as the football players had to be the worst in Prague. They didn't even have neo-nazi megafans! I walked through a new part of town for me, which had plenty of poverty and communist style "undignified rabbit hole" tenaments (this is what Vaclav Havel called them when he took power in 89, promising to get rid of them all; obviously, he failed). Nobody seemed too unhappy, though. There were picnics, parks, and beautiful walking paths amongst the filth and the pots of urine. From the top of the hill, I had a nice view of the city. I imagined two naked giants destroying it all.

Then I walked down the hill, and ran into the girlfriend of Frederique, the owner of Gulu Gulu who had me fired the first time for cleaning up the broken glass. I didn't recognize her, but she recognized me. "I saw you at Gulu Gulu, two times," she said. "I'm the owner's girlfriend." "Oh, Helena, right?" "Right." "I was fired twice. Maybe that's why you haven't seen more of me." "Oh," she said. I would have talked to her more, but I was embarrased about having dried blood all over my nose and hands. "It was good to see you," I said, and by dark I was home.

This may not really be my last time to wander Prague. Nicole's friend Sam wants us to take the trams and "get lost." I suspect we'll end up at Tesco.

3. Going to the Prague zoo.

Nicole and I are going to the Prague zoo with Henrik and Steve (a British guy who everyone loves, and is characteristically taking the Siberian Express and ferry to Japan to study calligraphy). This will be our first and last time to go to the Prague Zoo. Yeah, I know that zoos exploit animals and that animals are born free. But so what?

4. Getting drunk on my birthday.

I'm pretty sure this is what accounts for my nosebleed. Every day after a night I get drunk, I'm struck with some malady: sickness, blood, demons in the head, guilt; you name it, I'll blame it on the booze. Usually I become more of a genius when I'm drunk, but I wasn't especially clever this last time. Maybe it was the group dynamic. I'm better one on one, sober or drunk. I did have a great birthday, though. We went to a squat to watch our Blind Eye friend Austin play at a benefit show. Czech anarchists, unlike their American counterparts, are a bit disorganized, and the show was no longer happening by the time we got there. Austin played anyway, and he was amazing. It was much better than watching Mystic River for the second time for your birthday. Not that I didn't have a good birthday last year, too! After the squat concert, we went to The Blind Eye. That will probably happen again before I leave, to be honest.

5. Using the internet at a library.

Rachel got me a computer for my birthday. A G-6 1,000 gig triple decker geothermal-charged power-book. Just kidding, just kidding. It only hase 999 gigs. Still, it's going to change my life. Rachel denies this, but it's true. No more coat ladies, no more internet cafe fees, no more borrowing other people's computers. Never again will I be untapped, unconnected, unhuman. I will be immeasurably happier and more productive from here on out. Not just because of the computer. Because Rachel is in my life. Now that is something that will last (in the other sense of the word) for sure! Happy birthday, everyone!!!

What's with waking up being sad about leaving Prague?

When you wake up at 7 on a Saturday morning because there are construction workers hammering on your window and shouting at each other in some horrible foreign tongue, you would think you would want to leave Prague immediately and forever. Turns out, this just isn't necessarily the case.

italians to the left of us, italians to the right, but here we are....

(post written with brother matt)

so it turns out that there are more italians in prague than there are czech people. as roberto, or ricardo, or rodrigo, or whatever-his-name-is, says- 'you pick up a rock, there is an italian; there are italians under rocks here.' everyday, i (nicole) walk home, i have to dodge, frogger-like, through swarms of italian high-school groups who hang out in front of the spanish synagogue next to my house. and usually, some young italian hipster-in-training, with sunglasses bigger than his face, will look at me and give me an enthusiastically approving thumbs up.

ricardo says that italian women are like elaborate meals and you have to cook and coerce them in order to become their lover. this must be why the young italians start practicing the food preparation early on. ricardo also says that czech women are too easy; they are like frozen-food and he prefers cooking.

i told ricardo that i thought that italian men were too easy. he said, "have you ever had an eetalian lahver?" i said, "well, no." he said, "well then you don't know, do you?"

backtrack. let's explain ricardo.

yesterday, kelli picked up some italians in the school cafeteria. ricardo, potentially the most energetic person we have ever met, told her he was studying here for the semester. later, when he realized that he'd have to cook kelli, instead of eating her as frozen dinner, he admitted that him and his friend daniela (a male) were only here for the week. then he laughed for about five minutes. at one point in the evening, ricardo and daniela asked me if i was from alabama (they could tell from my eyes?), they started singing 'o zuzanna' in italian and kicking and dancing in circles. i said i didn't quite get that, so they did it twice more.

ricardo firmly maintains that the only reasons people come to prague are to a) live cheaply, b) pick up easy girls, or c) be an easy girl. he could absolutely NOT believe that matt was here ONLY to visit his sister. in fact, he thought that matt was tricking me into thinking he just wanted to visit me, when he really just wanted to go to a country with easy women. he said "ha ha. yes. i wish i had a sister in an easy-woman country! ha ha ha! yeees."

if matt was here only to pick up easy women, then he is being VERY unsuccessful... especially when he spends 30 minutes in the back of a bar talking to his lovely girlfriend of two years.

in other words, matt and i love ricardo.

okay, now we're going to abbreviate this entry so that we may go shoot crossbows at things in the prague castle.

Getting the shaft, once again

I got fired right before what was to be my last shift at Gulu Gulu. Philip apparently called to warn me, but I missed it, and the Slovakian guy had to tell me, "Uh, I think Philip say your work is not necessary tonight." He didn't even apologize for how unsympathique it was for him to tell me that!

Nicole, Kristen and Matthew were also out of the loop, and came to see me work my waitering magic for the very last time. Instead, they saw me alone at a table in the back room with the melancholy live jazz band, nursing my conciliatory free cheeseless pizza. I had no idea they were coming; it's lucky I didn't order a cheese pizza; they totally would have caught me! It ended up being a very pleasant night, though. Instead of working like a slave for almost nothing but satisfied customer smiles, I got to eat dinner with the three best people in Prague.

I woke up sad about leaving Prague this morning. Is it true what Kundera said about Prague? Only time will tell.

My last entry in Prague Blague

Nicole and I put together (it's a small apartment) have about fifty PragueBlague entries in the works. Problem is, I only have a week left, and she only has two. I could write them all during my stint in Austin, but will any of you care at that point about me bitching out the Astronomical Clock, or my pleas for Czech/Roma understanding? I could spend the rest of my time here doing nothing but writing blog entries and packing, but I might regret that later.

A week and I'm gone. I've been desperately longing for this moment the second I left Dallas and everything I knew behind. Yet now that the end of Prague is approaching, I don't want to leave. Everything is finally falling into place!

I have a job again. I work four hours a week, Thursday nights at Gulu Gulu, where I make upwards of five dollars an hour and feel productive and happy. I was a clapper boy on a short film starring real life Czech people. My Swedish friends Olga and Jan invite me to picnics and rock climbing bars. My writing has never been so prophetic. I've been picking up some "Cesky" phrases. Nemluvim dobry Anglitsky? Nicole taught me how to switch a Czech keyboard into an English one: alt-shift. Hannah and I are friends again, though our friendship will always be tainted by the time she pulled me out of her chair and dragged me across the floor. I actually like The Blind Eye now, even if I am still hesitant to call it, as Nicole does, the happiest place on earth. I sometimes drink beer willingly, though only dark beer, since it has more B-vitamins (this is actually quite exciting since I'd only thought there were four possible drinks available to me: water, juice, smoothies, and vodka for when I need to be talkative. Turns out there is a fifth drink, and I actually like it). I am now officially a citizen of the EU, care of Great Britain, and can work and live anywhere in the EU legally. A fat lot of good this does me with a week left in Prague! I could at least be legal at Gulu Gulu for my last night. We saw Roman Polansky and Jessica Biel, and with Elijah and Ed in town, the celebrity sightings can only double. Construction on our apartment, which mainly consists of workers banging next to our windows with hammers at 7 in the morning until it's impossible for us to go back to sleep then stopping, is almost over. The next tenents are going to have some pretty amazing window mats, without the nightmares. I still have food

And let's not forget the regrets. All the things I could have done and didn't! I haven't even been to the Prague Eiffel tower, the mirror maze, and maybe a dozen other things here. I could have spent more time with my new friends, but I felt like that would be cheating on my old friends. Now I realize that you can have old and new friends, and it's okay. But here's what really scares me: "So, what did you do in Prague?" "Yeah, man, why'd you go to Prague, what was that all about?" "Did you teach English or something?" "You must have done some pretty amazing stuff there, eh?" "You were there for three months? You must be totally fluent in Czech now." "Did you go to the Prague Eiffel Tower? Wait, why am I even asking, of course you did!" "You must be totally different now. In which ways are you different, and in which ways are you the same?" "How does your time in Europe make you feel about being an American? You must have spent a lot of time thinking about that." "Bet you took a ton of great photos! Show us your photos!" "Why so quiet, sport? Tell us about everything you did in Prague!"

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

P.S. This isn't my last entry. I was just being sensational so you all would read it. You'll know it's my last entry when you see me in person. And even then you may not know.

quickly quickly

1. my brother is in town. he is awesome. he tells grandiose stories. sleeps.

2. rhys birthday on saturday (april 23)

3. rhys and i ate icecream next to roman polanski the night before last

4. matt (brother), rhys, and i walked by jessica biel, who i still wouldn't be able to recognize (matt recognized her), who was also boasting about her flat that looks right over the jewish cemetery

5. i will be sad to leave prague

dear everyone

i need to go be more social, but i thought i should update you that i think i'm addicted to coffee, because it improves my mood tremendously. furthermore, chadwick- i would love to see you at end of may, but i will be in bosnia, but i heart you, of course.!

Okay, another "Prague experience": narrowly avoiding a master pick-pocket

If the U.S. ambassador to The Czech Republic warned us once, he warned us a thousand times: watch your wallets, visitors. The Prague pick-pockets are top notch.

Id heard this warning from so many people - most of them more knowledgable about the ways of Bohemia than George W. Bushś folksy mono-lingual Alabama raised spokesmodel in the Czech Republic - that I was even paranoid keeping my wallet in the zipper pocket in the front of my coat. Could they not slip a malnurished, paper thin arm underneath my coat, trim out the back of my pocket out with nail scissors, and steal my wallet in half a second? Even leaving my wallet in my lock box at home made me nervous. Surely they could cast a wallet nabbing spell they by plucking one of my hairs, could they not?

No, actually. They could not. They seem to prey mostly on passed out drunk tourists wearing hawiian T-shirts, who have their wallets taped to the outside of their bags. Last night, though, on the way back from Nicoles birthday party, I was targeted. If you are walking through old town square at 4 in the morning, you are presumed to be a drunk American.

I saw a man and a woman about a hundred feet to my right. I didnt think much of it. Two people. Big deal. I see people all the time. Humans are pretty amazing creatures, but you get used to them. I thought they were Italians at the time, but applying stereotypes in retrospect makes me think they might have been Gypsies.

The woman broke off with the man she was walking with, came up to me, said "Ciao" a few times, then grabbed my arm, as if to steal me away to a passionate love affair. "Ne, ne," I said, shaking my head and waving her away. I didnt know anything about this woman, and she expected me to fall in love with her like that? This isnt a Dvorzak opera, lady. This is PragueBlague!

She was really insistent, though, and wouldnt let go. At first I didnt know what to make of her. She clearly wasnt a prostitute, because she didnt keep saying "sex" while looking at me with big, sad, desperate eyes. Also, she was with someone who appeared to be her boyfriend, and who seemed mildly annoyed that she was harrassing me. "Cant I take you anywhere without you trying to steal some poor Americans wallet?!"

Yep, she was a pick-pocket. She noticed the button pocket on my vest with a bulge in it, and rubbed my vest, as if she were scrubbing my chest lovingly. Thanks to the Ambassador, I knew exactly what she was doing, knocked her hand away, and spun around. "Oh," she exclaimed, truly surprised that I wasnt up for chest scurring/wallet losing that night. Her boyfriend, even more embarrassed at this point, called her back over.

What really pissed me off is that she wasnt even going for my wallet. She was going for my notepad with all of my ideas! What the hell was she going to do with that? My notepad was in English, which she clearly cant read because she kept saying Ciao, which may as well be Greek. Even if she could read English, theres no way she could read my tiny handwriting. My parents raised me, and they cant even read that. And even if she had the same sort of handwriting as I, spoke English, and thus could read it, she wouldnt know what to do with all of my ideas. They just wouldnt make sense to her. She might have written a few pages of a short story or two based on something I jotted down, but it probably would have been bad. She would have tossed the notebook that means so much to me into the trash, and gone right back into her career of choice. Thank God I wasnt walking through Old Town Square drunk and passed out with my wallet taped to my vest.

PS. I thought Nicoles birthday party was more than okay. It had Waynes World, Hair, friends, pizza, pincnics, jumping photos, mirror mazes, and good times. I had fun at least. Though, had it been my birthday, I probably would have been a little disappointed too.... no pinata.

yesterday was my b'day and it was only okay

prepare yourself for my most self-indulgent blog post ever.
dashed out and unedited.

if you want to avoid uninteresting self-reflection, i recommend you skip to the bottom part of the post that includes information about the CRAZY football game i went to this afternoon.


THE MEDIOCRE BIT:
i've really given up on the idea of having a great birthday. i haven't had a great birthday since i was in grade school and we used to make all of my friends come to the roller skating rink and eat cake with me. this year i was far away from my two homes and, even though i feel very close with a lot of my friends here, the birthday felt relatively unspecial.

THE MEDIUM-GOOD BIT:
i shouldn't say that, though. the girls threw me a picnic in this beautiful park. and it was delicious and joyful. but everyone had to do homework and was tired from staying out late the night before, so the picnic was packed up, over, and moved out within an hour. then i went on a beautiful walk through prague's gardens with zdenek and some other study abroad kids, and, well, that was the best part of the day. we went into a mirror maze, which is too awesome to describe without pictures.

THE DEPRESSING BIT:
the night before my birthday, everyone wanted to go play darts near the dorms and then, i guess go somewhere else. i was all ready to go to the dorms when i texted kristen and she said she was at some beer garden instead. i asked her where it was, but instead of texting me with directions, she told me only that she was with austin and that the girls were still at darts. so i figured she didn't really want me to come out (knowing full well that i was probably wrong, but sometimes you just get in these moods... you know). so i texted kelli and asked if they were still at darts, she said yes but that they were leaving soon. i asked how long she though they'd be there and she never responded, so i just stayed in. one other guy wanted to see if i wanted to hang out, but i was in the midst of a lethargic self-pity session.

right at midnight, i got a call that i thought would be a happy bday wish, but it was someone looking for the other nicole. then i opened the cards my parents left for me and my mom got my age wrong. so, what else could i do but make myself a bday card and read half of milan kundera's the joke.

the next night, everyone sort of acted like they had to come out, but didn't really want to. evidently, they all stayed out really late the night before and so they all left for home early and rhys and i watched hair in the backroom of the blind eye with one regular and one owner. that was okay.

WHY IT ISN'T THAT DEPRESSING:
i didn't actually feel depressed. just baffled at how birthdays are always let downs. so i instead just treated it like a normal night and was pleased to have some alone time to read and reconnoiter. maybe one day i should have a good, old-fashioned birthday party where i make all of my friends come to a skating rink and also get a cake. (vegan cake, of course.)

i feel sort of depressed right now, but i think that's for other reasons (i.e. staying out too late.)

THE GOOD
i probably should have started with this. i woke up, went to the internet cafe, and had already received emails from amy (from austin) and kristen (from b'ham), who are my two best friends in the world. this made me feel happy. then, when we met with zdenek for the tour, he had brought me a little dish with a string attached too it. i don't know what it is for, but it was the perfect b'day present because only zdenek would get me a tiny yellow dish with a string on it. then, at the end of the tour, russ called. ! russ is one of those people that i just feel happy when i think about him. sometimes i also feel frustrated or annoyed or other things. but, you know, the two of us really care about each other and always will and it was great to hear from him. today, i received happy b'day emails from many of the other important people in my life. chadwick, brazos, diana, my brother, will mangum, geeti, etc. i'm surprised how many people remembered!

also, rhys got me really thoughtful and small gifts, which made me really happy. the small was key, too, because i'll be traveling with only a backpack and messenger bag for over a month after class lets out. and hannah's parents got me pretty flowers. oh, and blind eye noah bought me a birthday pizza and played buddy holly for me at the bar because i really really really wanted to hear it. so, really, i had a really nice birthday where tons of people did nice things for me. i really shouldn't complain at all. man, in retrospect, it was really all very nice.


MORE GOOD
i keep thinking about how happy i am that amy is coming to visit and then, as soon as she leaves, i'm meeting kristen s. (from b'ham) in istanbul for the best vacation of our lives.

also, brazos is gonna like this bit...

THE FOOTBALL GAME
and by football, i mean soccer...

today was the sparta vs. slavia football game. it was way intense. i didn't even really watch the game, though. i just watched the fans. evidently, it is legal to bring flares to football games in the czech republic. right after half-time, the fans pulled out the flares for the first time. they got really rowdy and started waving them around and throwing them. the stands actually caught on fire a few times. and there were what looked like tussles in the stands. the police kept having to storm up through the fans and then firemen with buckets followed behind them. i saw one guy throw a flare at one of the firemen's heads! at one point, one of the flares made it onto the field, and the firemen had to storm onto the field and put out a fire! Dudes! Crazy! (oh, we were in the part of the stands where there were no hardcore, flare-lighting fans, by the way.)

the other interesting thing about the soccer game was that, in the light of what happened to my friends anna and greg (who were beat up by neo-nazis that were in town for a football game), i kept watching for neo-nazis and accompanying propaganda. well, i found it. the slavia fans had put up signs all around the stadium, a few of which included the slogan red and white power (the team's colors are red and white). i don't know if they know exactly what white power means, but right next to the biggest sign that said red and white power, was another smaller one that said something like 'red and WHITE POWER' and had a picture of a fist. i don't really think it was all accidental either, just because of what i've heard about neo-nazis coming in from the countryside to watch football matches. i kept wondering whether the slavia and sparta players had any idea that they have a neo-nazi following. i also wondered how many of the fans knew or thought this. i also wondered why almost all of the signs around the stadium were in english, even though both teams are czech. i'm guessing it had something to do with the fact that football is so big in england, but i don't know.

anyways, that's my day so far. i'm gonna go read for a bit and go out to eat with the girls. hopefully i will wake up a bit first, so that i'm not a drag at dinner. i think i'll go have some espresso or something.

ehhhh...

and, amy and kristen, if you are both reading this, I AM SO EXCITED TO SEE YOU I CAN HARDLY CONTAIN MYSELF!!!

and, matt (brother), i'll probably see you before you read this, BUT I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE YOU ON MONDAY!!!

post prague travels

tentatively-

(in response to rhys-post)


amy comes to see me on may 5th. we go to plzen on may 7th for the day of liberation from facism festivities. then amy, darling, and myself travel to croatia (through slovenia, maybe? hopefully?) and back up to prague by the 17th. amy leaves on the 18th. then darling and i hang out in prague with darling's parents until the 20th when...


i fly to istanbul and meet kristen (who has already bought her ticket! i don't know how or where to buy mine!)on may 20th. we hang out in istanbul for 3 or 4 days and then to bulgaria, where we bask in the sun on the black sea for as long as possible and also learn cyrillic (or however you spell that). then we travel west through (maybe) serbia and (definitely) bosnia. get back to croatia and catch a ferry from split to venice. stay with charley (who is my twin in awesome)and then hopefully travel south and see my friend ginny. i'd say what is most up in the air is what happens in italy, which is unfortunate because i need to figure out where and when to fly out. also, my life's savings are being eaten up.

the thing is that i've been saving money since i was 12 years old in order to travel in europe, and i have enough to travel in europe, but not to probably have any after it's over. but i guess that this is pretty much a dream vacation and so i'm probably spending the money well. unfortunately, the tickets to istanbul from here are really expensive and going up by the day. i need to figure this shit out. quick.

here's a picture of charley and me posing funny under a bridge in budapest.

Soon its goodbye to Prague

On Friday, April 15 (Nicoles birthday, as everyone knows... RIGHT??), I will only have two more weeks in Prague. We paid for our apartment until May 10, but really, who wants to stay in Prague for that long? In "The Metamorphisis," just about the only book Kafka finished writing, Kafka (speaking as a character who just saw a giant cockroach that used to be her son) said, "Screw Prague. Its too touristy." Its cliche to complain about tourists, and I feel blessed for every day I walk on these ancient cobblestones, but I´m going somewhere else anyway. On April 29, I am flying to Stockholm, to hang out with my friend Nick. Then on May 11, thanks to Rachel´s negotiating genius, I fly from Stockholm to Texas to be re-united with my American patriots. Somewhere on or around June 1, I will fly from Austin to New York. I am not quite sure what Nicole is going to do once our lease is up, and neither is she, but it looks like her post-Prague travels could involve Serbia, Russia, Greenland, South Korea, and/or the Isle of Sky in Scotland. Istanbul for sure. But by no means is Prague over. I am going to start posting regularly to PragueBlague again very soon. The blog, by the way, will go on long after Nicole and I have sold out to American militarism, settled down to our separate lives, and resigned ourselves to never leaving the Untied States ever again.

a list of things that nicole likes

i like:

vampires, werewolves, magical forests, ghosts, pirates, dance pirates, outerspace, aliens, robots, monsters, strange animals, the theory of evolution, traveling, eastern europe, cute guys, smart guys, smart people, good friends, emotions, my family, deep sea, sea monsters, movies, inexplicable things, wizards, elves, mountains, trees, creeks, caves, dwarves, goblins, talentless dancers, good dancers, ballroom dancers, space dancers, searching for my real soul-mate (who i'm pretty sure i found, identified, and let go), hanging out in coffee shops for hours, and this picture of me and my dad

romania condensed, and with pictures

from an email.


I. Here's the original cast of characters (otherwise known as Team Botmania):

Kristen Darling: Darling is easily my best friend in Prague, and I'm
almost positive that she's going to be a key figure in my life
forever. We're perfect travel buddies; we always want to do the same
things, eat the same food, and talk to the same people. She's from
Nevada City, California, where she grew up with nature-loving parents
in a log cabin. She's had the same group of girlfriends for most of
her life, including one popular harpist/singer/songwriter named Joanna
Newsome. And she talks frequently of a river in which she would
skinny-dip almost every day (during warmer months) since she was a
child.



Ronen: Ronen is a fast-paced New York City
musician/artist/student who always wants to do everything, see
everything, and eat everything he can. He thinks that sleep is for
suckers and anyone who sleeps more than 5 or 6 hours a night whilst
traveling is therefore a sucker (eh hem, sleepy-faced me). His
quick-witted comments that he spits out when we all sit on park
benches and watch strangers do stupid things (like pet and feed wild,
rabies ridden, Romanian dogs) are impressive, as is his expository
story-telling voice, which he uses to charm strangers into being our
new friends. He gets annoyed if Kristen and I talk to boys for too
long, or if we giggle too much when we do it. He almost always needs
espresso.



Nicole: That's me. When traveling, I'm one of those people
who is somewhere in the medium maintenance category. I need a full
night of sleep every night, pretty much, or else I get sick, and not
the kind of sick that goes away easily either. And I'm a vegetarian,
which makes things harder for travel-buddies sometimes. Other than
that, though, I enjoy most activities and am willing to spend a little
extra money for particularly awesome things (like the hot spring spa
and the caving tour that we went to in Budapest), but prefer to work
on a tight budget for most other travel expenses. I like to factor in
down time. I prefer towns and countryside to big cities and
nightlife.



All three of us wanted to go somewhere a) cheap, b) harder to get to
directly from the States, c) interesting (duh) and d) where we could
hike in pretty mountains. ROMANIA!

We met tons of other interesting and wonderful people, but I will hopefully have the time and patience
to go into this more later.

II. The itinerary:
-20 hour train ride to Brasov, Romania (i.e. the heart of Transylvania)
-5 nights (6 full days) in Brasov at the Rolling Stone Hostel
-overnight train to Budapest, Hungary
-1 night (2 full days) in Budapest
-overnight train back to Prague
*(Note that we saved three nights accommodation expenses by taking
overnight trains, the results of which include a nasty head cold that
I am currently fighting.)

III. Dracula, the Fortress, and the Black Church

Transylvania is most famous for being the home of Dracula. Dracula
the vampire, as imagined by Bram Stoker, was actually based on a real
guy named Vlad Tepes, who was ruling prince of an area of Romania
called Wallachia between 1456-1462 and 1476-1477. Tepes was not his
actual last name, but rather a name given to him for his preferred
method of capital punishment. Tepes means 'impaler'. Prince Vlad
would carefully impale his enemies, making sure to miss all vital
organs so that the victim would survive (and be conscious!) for about
two days before he died. Another nickname of Vlad's was Dracula,
which means son of Dracul. Dracul means dragon. Vlad's papa was a
knight of the Order of the Dragon. Evidently, Vlad Tepes is somewhat
of a folk hero for Romanians, due to his key role in maintaining a
strong resistance against the invading Ottoman Empire.

On our first day in Brasov, we visited 'Dracula's Castle' in a town
called Bran, knowing full well that it was just a vampire-ish looking
castle on the top of a rocky hill, and that Vlad Tepes never actually
lived there. The fortress at Bran was actually just a pretty castle
that Dracula may have once attacked, and it is rumored that he spent
one night in prison there, but it was also the inspiration for Bram
Stoker when he envisioned his vampire's evil fortress. The castle is
surrounded by little booths selling plastic fangs, monster masks, and
t-shirts that say 'Someone in Transylvania Loves Me' over exaggerated
pictures of vampires. Darling and I had some fun posing for photos in
our plastic fangs. Ummm, we also bought matching t-shirts. Don't
tell.

Actually, though Romania probably has nothing to do with real vampires
(although who REALLY knows the truth), it isn't hard to see where the
clichés come from. The people sort of look like vampires- they all
have pale skin, black hair, and mostly light eyes. There are funeral
parlors on almost every corner, including one 24-hour funeral parlor
right next to our hostel. The Brasov city center borders the Gothic
'Black Church" that is actually black, due to a fire that occurred in
1689. The streets and the city square are full of people all day
until sunset, when they suddenly empty completely. And, when it
rains, the mountains mist over entirely. Team Botmania went on a hike
up the mountain during a foggy day and had about the eeriest
experience of our lives. This will be featured in another chapter.

I love shit like this.

IV. Train Ride Goes Creepy

Admittedly, we were all slightly daunted by the prospect of a 20 hour
train ride, but the time actually flew by. We slept for twelve hours,
and despite being woken up six times (!) for passport control, we were
undisturbed by any interlopers trying to sit in our compartment with
us. (Please, if anyone can figure out what six countries we might
have traveled through between the Czech Republic and Romania, tell
me!)

We officially woke up somewhere in Hungary, we think, and we got into
Transylvania about an hour before sunset. Within a few minutes of
crossing the Romanian border, we noticed that our car kept filling up
with ashes. We looked out the window and saw several small fires on
the side of the tracks, which we attributed to local agricultural
practices. Then, at sunset, Ronen decided to 'go exploring' on the
train, leaving Darling and me alone in our compartment for the first
time since we got on the train. The sun set quickly, and we came
immediately upon a hill side with little fires lit in a horseshoe
pattern that centered around two gnarled, dead, black trees. Beside
this hill was another one where we saw an orange glow sort of haloing
the black hill; there were fires lit behind the hill. The only
explanation I can think of is the obvious one- we were entering
Transylvania at sunset on the night of a full moon, so it must have
been some sort of ritual tied up with vampires or werewolves or
something. Of course. We also passed an old run-down building with
all the windows knocked out. Behind one of the broken windows, we saw
another lit fire, but no people. Oooooh. Spooky.

The rest of the train ride was uneventful. There were some Roma
children trying to get us to buy things from them. A legless man
stared at Kristen through the window while she drew a picture in her
sketch-book. One older guy with red pants must have walked by twenty
or thirty times within the course of four hours.

V. Day Hike Number 1

On our train ride back from Budapest, I asked Kristen and Ronen what
their favorite parts of our Spring Break trip were. All of us agreed
that our first sunny day hike ranked number one and that the Hungarian
caves were number two. For number three, Ronen liked the thermal
baths in Budapest, and Kristen and I agreed upon hanging out at the
hostel. We all loved every minute, of course. Ranking is just one of
those things people do to review things they like in an organized way.

Our first two days in Romania had beautiful weather. We're talking
mid-60's, sunny, intermittent slight breezes. It was especially
refreshing to us after our cold, snowy winter. So, enticed by the
second day's sunshine, we walked off in the direction of the
mountains, expecting to just find a trail somewhere. We ended up lost
in somebody's backyard. We heard a ruckus behind a fence, and so we
figured that someone back there could help up find a trail. I walked
through the fence and saw a gigantic lawn next to a run-down shack,
with about six people whipping a horse that was pulling some logs up a
hill. I timidly called "Poiana Brasov????" because that is the name
of a town that we heard we could hike to. One of the men walked
towards us and said "Speak English!" Encouraged, we told him we
wanted to go on a hike and that we'd heard that Poiana Brasov was
near. He took us through his property, which included not only the
horse, but about 10-15 half-wild dogs (Romania has a problem with wild
dogs) that would excitedly bang up against our legs, several chickens,
and one turkey that chased us for a little while. He showed us his
own personal path to the outskirts of town, where we could find more
paths, and warned us about bears before he disappeared behind a little
hill.

We walked through a small wooded area that led into someone else's
backyard. Then we walked to a road where everyone knew each other and
nobody knew us. And then we finally found our path. After hiking it
for about five minutes, we saw a man running frantically past us with
a horrified expression on his face (bears? vampires? vampire bears?).
The hike progressed pleasantly, except that every time I saw
paw-prints in the small amounts of snow that hadn't yet melted, I
stopped and made Kristen and Ronen assure me that they were too small
to be bear-prints, and too near to boot prints to be werewolves.

The next four or five hours were sunshine, chit-chat, pb&j, cows
crossing roads, and basically just pure happiness.



VI. Day Hike Number 2 (Werewolves and Haunted Houses)

Even though our sunny day hike was our favorite, our rainy misty fog
creepy day hike was also one of the best experiences I've had. On the
side of one of the mountains near town, there is a big sign that looks
like the Hollywood sign, but says Brasov. We wanted to go there. So,
again, we just walked towards the mountains until we found a trail.
This trail was more grueling than the last, and because it was
raining, we kept slipping in the mud. We walked almost straight up
until we got to a crossroad where the mist was so thick we couldn't
see fifteen feet ahead of us. We decided that we didn't want to hike
back down, so we followed signs to the cable car. At one point, Ronen
wanted to see if there was another trail near us and he walked about
twenty feet away and disappeared entirely into the fog. We followed a
winding dirt road up and to the left, by a tree that looked almost
exactly like a crucifix, complete with white bark-shapes twisted like
Jesus' dying body. We saw no signs of people, no footprints. We
heard nothing except what we thought was the roaring of the cable
cars.

Meters before the cable car station (that we couldn't see in the mist,
so we didn't yet know was there), we found an abandoned house with no
roof or doors or windows, so we went in. There was another section of
the house that we couldn't reach without exiting and going behind the
ruins, so fearless Kristen led the way. As we tiptoed through the
dripping branches behind the back corner, a dog suddenly barked a
warning and the three of us simultaneously ran away and down the stone
steps back to the path. Two wild dogs followed us and eyed us
suspiciously. We continued down the path, now with two creepy
weredogs following us, until we came up the cable car station. It was
abandoned. There was a restaurant with no people in it, sidewalks
that led into concrete walls, and voices coming from inside that
didn't seem to be connected with any bodies, and didn't respond when
we knocked. One or two little barks from our dog-adversaries sent us
quickly back to the trail until we found a nice zig-zaggy path down
the empty mountain.





VII. Traveling and Touring

The Rolling Stone Hostel was the center of our social life when we
were in Brasov. Like I said earlier, the streets empty at night, so
there was not much to do except stay in with the other travelers. It
was anything but tedious.

One of the lodgers was Nick. He works for Maria, the owner of the
hostel, in return for reduced rent, and leaves it only rarely. He was
born in 1960, and spent his youth in the English punk scene, doing
drugs and watching shows. When music turned sour in the 1980s, he
started moving. He's traveled through the busiest and the remotest
areas of Europe and Asia, and doesn't want to stop. His proudest
accomplishment is that he has been to Albania. He said that when he
went to Albania, one of his taxi drivers offered to take him on a tour
of the sights for the equivalent of about 40 or 50 British pounds.
Nick responded that, although he'd love to see the sights, he couldn't
afford it. "I'm not a tourist," he said, "I'm a traveler."



I thought this was an interesting distinction that Nick drew. Many of
the guests at the Rolling Stone Hostel were travelers. Brasov is a
small town with one square, one pedestrian street, and no nightlife.
You don't go there to party. You don't go there for postcards or
museums. You go there to live, for a little or long while. For many
people, our five nights in Brasov would probably have been tedious,
but for all the people who we met at the hostel, five nights in Brasov
was a horrible tease. I could've stayed there for months. I would
hike in the day, watch Romanian VH1 in the afternoon, go to the
internet café in the evening, and read at night. I could be perfectly
content doing just that for months. I think Nick felt the same way.

[WARNING: NEXT PARAGRAPH IS A TANGENT AND YOU MIGHT WANT TO SKIP IT.]
I'm not going to fool myself, though. I'm a tourist, not a traveler,
even as much as I want to be. I'm going home soon, where I'll have to
start thinking about my future career (psychology? literature? which
one?!?!?! either?). I'm not living in the places I go. In many ways,
I'm using them. I'm studying them and the people in them. I'm trying
to use them to figure out who I am, where I fit, what I like, who I
belong with. I went to Milton's house in England, hoping that Milton
could tell me what I was supposed to do with my life. I ended up with
photos and no answers. I went to Freud's house in Vienna, hoping that
his consultation room would extract the answers from my subconscious,
and ended up only with some more postcards and some confusion. Truth
be told, I love people and want to know all about them and maybe
interact with them too. So which avenue do I take? Will my travels
tell me?

This is a tangent. I guess what I'm saying is that traveling is
appealing, and interesting, and everything all at once except only for
a little while. I can't run around my whole life. I want to, and
can't. I think Brasov is like my impossible promise land. I've had
some moments in my garden and I probably won't ever go back. And, to
be honest, it is probably changing soon. I have a feeling that
tourism is about to devour Transylvania, so, please, if this email was
interesting to you, go now and don't bring the rest of America with
you. And if you can think of a way that I could live and work there
for a few months, tell me and I'll go.

VII. Nicole Gets Sleepy

I've been writing way too long, and although I've only just touched on
all the impressions I had of Romania, and I didn't even talk about
Budapest and my favorite caves in the world, I'm tired and need to
stop soon. Three more short chapter things and I'll let you guys go.
Sorry this is so long.

VIII. A Picture of Kristen and Me at Rasnov




VIX. YOU CAN HELP ME!

I'm planning to travel as long as my funds hold after the semester in
Prague is through. Currently, the plan is to go through Austria and
Slovenia to Croatia, and then back up to Prague to drop off sweet Amy
Sommer who is coming to visit (yay!!!). Then we'll spend a week in
the Czech/Slovak area with Darling's parents. And then ___. I know
for sure that Italy (Milan and Venice definitely) go in the blank, but
after that I could go anywhere. Spain, Greece, Switzerland, Bulgaria
even. This is where you may come in.

a) Suggestions? Sights? Cities?
b) Anybody wanna come visit me in Europe?
c) DO YOU KNOW ANY FRIENDLY PEOPLE IN ANY OF THESE PLACES WHO CAN SHOW
US AROUND AND/OR HOUSE US FOR CHEAP OR FREE?
d) Donations? Just kidding. But if you want a postcard, send me your
address and you'll get it some day.

X. Finally. Do You Want More?

I know I've been talking for a while and you're probably sick of this,
but I'll just list some more topics that I wanted, but didn't have the
energy, to write about in this email. If you want to hear about any
of them in particular, let me know and I'll probably re-energize
myself again soon.

-why Prague is great, but not for me
-Maria, Silvia, and their obsession with keeping our kidneys warm
(including ear pulling and head-bopping)
-Charles the Australian Capricorn who has been traveling for 9 months
(Rhys wants you to know that this is more potentially interesting than
it looks)
-the Germans who love to party, and their pet sausage, Matt
-Roma (Gypsies) in Romania; the kid who stole my coffee and tried to
charge me for it
-the mean cop who woke me up to write me a ticket for having my shoes
on the seat
-the American whose first time out of the country was to go to
Romania, and who managed to find the only sports pub in the country
-the British girls who worked in the orphanage
-the British Lauras who live in Brighton and love us and we love them
-the bathtub sized Jacuzzi in which we squeezed four girls
-Jeremy and Megan who Peace Corps in Ukraine
-Rasnov, my favorite castle in the world, where Cold Mountain was filmed
-internet café culture in Brasov
-Sinaia, the town full of castles and weird souvenirs
-the six mean-funny English guys who love Dracula
-the mean-mean missionaries from Bucharest
-who ate Ronen's Nutella?
-Romanian chocolate
-the graveyards
-the Mexican restaurant and the final countdown
-bryan adams EVERYWHERE
-taking out 4 million lei from the ATM
-wild dogs everywhere. Dogs can recognize foreigners by scent.
-the busses that don't stop for you, and you have to jump on them
while they move
-romanian folk music
-the Budapest thermal baths, naked ladies, nice steam room
-the Budapest caves (ooooooh yeah!) including 'the Sandwich'- (one of
my favorite activies)
-renting bikes in Budapest, the Croats from the caves in a bike gang
-nikki gets sick
-returns and parents are in Prague for a visit!



I'm sure I could think of some more if you gave me some time. But I
think this is probably more than enough, isn't it?