Litmus Test

Every time I visit a new location, I apply a litmus test. Not one for chemical acidity, to be sure, but the could-I-live-here litmus test, applying a rigorous number of criteria to ascertain whether or not I could dream of returning on a more permanent basis.

This week I find myself in Bolzano, or Bozen in German, Italy for a conference on Bi- and Multi-Lingual Universities. It is a truly bilingual city nestled in the mountains of Northern Italy.



Here are some of the ways in which it passes (surpasses!) the grade:

1. It is multilingual: German and Italian are spoken here interchangeably. Although I do not speak either German or Italian, I would be interested in learning both of them. They are widely spoken, literary and musical languages. Hallo! Ciao!

2. There are mountains... and water: The town is surrounded by breathtaking mountainous landscape that is easily accessible (I walked there today) and a river runs straight through the town.



3. It is a university town: There is learning taking place here and the university (Free University of Bozen-Bolzano) is tri-lingual with German, Italian, and English as languages as instruction. There is also hope of employment!

4. Great food: The best of two countries -- pasta, stinky cheeses, wine, olive oil, strudel, espresso, gelatto. There is also a beautiful fruit, vegetable, spice, and cheese market in the middle of town. Need I say more?



5. A lively population: A town of only 100,000, similar to the Estonian town of Tartu where I currently live, Bolzano is bustling with energy and people in the streets. Refreshing!

6. Long lunches (and siesta?): Everything closes for 1-2 hours for lunch. You gotta love people that know how to take a minute or two off to appreciate the best things in life.



7. Recreation: With the mountains, there is year-round activity. Skiing, hiking, rafting... Ah! I love the outdoors! (There's even a dance school in the center for some indoor activity)



8. Climate: Today was a gorgeous, sunny, warm day (around 75 Fahrenheit). There are four seasons, but they don't seem to be overly extreme. An adequate amount of year-round sunlight/darkness is also attractive.

9. It's old: There is history... Europe's oldest mummified human resides here. Pretty old :)



10. General charm: The town is quaint. Great skylines, nice architecture (I lvoe the shutters), and friendly people. I am traveling with a colleague and her one-year-old baby, who receives coos and attention from every age and gender on the streets.

I may sound enamored. I may be. More thoughts to come... or maybe I'll begin to seek opportunities to stay longer!

V srdce, ja mam staru turu

It was a bit like coming home to my second family. At the end of my stay in Austria, I was able to squeeze in an overnighter in the village where I did my Peace Corps service nearly 8 years ago. Stara Tura is a small town situated in the Carpathians in the western part of Slovakia, and there live some people that remain incredibly precious and loved by me.


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My trip was not premeditated or well-planned, but I arrived to see the colleagues and friends that I could manage to find. Waiting for me at the train station was the best friend that I had during my two and a half year stay in Stara Tura. A smiling face and warm heart, she graciously invited me back into her home and life. Preoccupied during the train ride from Vienna about my Slovak language skills, I found it simple to ease back into our bantering routine of walks, coffee, and meals. I was welcomed so completely at her home, disturbing any routine she might have had. I felt like a long-lost daughter as we began to catch up on what had been missed in our letters over the last four years. She cooked for me and fussed over the cold I was beginning to catch. A true friend, she listened as well as talked as we celebrated and sympathized over new developments in our lives. Not to continue sounding cliché, but it was timeless, as I guess any good friendship should be.

From Slovakia 07

During my visit, I realized how beautiful the town is and the nice collective that I had at the schools where I worked while I was there. Remembered as I reunited with a couple of close colleagues, we reminisced together (amazingly enough, po slovensky!). I was reminded that for those of us that wander, we leave second and third and fourth homes scattered here and there. Somehow, for me, I am always surprised and grateful at the blessing it is to keep coming to those homes. I guess that we leave a bit of ourselves behind and, at the same time, a bit of each place and people is planted within us. I still marvel when I rediscover the places where my heart belongs.

Mozart is a great composer, sir!

A very true statement. I have spent the last couple of weeks working in Austria with different groups of teachers, and on the weekend that broke up the seminars, I was able to do a bit of wandering in Vienna. My Sunday morning was completely remarkable.

I made my way in the morning down to the First District (or historical center) of Vienna to enjoy the wonders the city has to offer. Weaving between beautiful architecture and famous historical places, I managed to arrive at St. Augustin’s cathedral in time for Sunday mass. Admittedly, it was my intended destination as it hosts well-reputed musicians to perform special music during the offertory and postlude. I was not disappointed. Although crammed into the pews of the small and beautiful church with other tourists and church-goers, I enjoyed some Mozart and Buxtehude. Gorgeous sounds of choir, organ, and orchestration! I was truly convinced, as the young and defiant soldier Andrew in the movie The Barber of Siberia that Mozart is a great composer.

Afterwards, I continued to enjoy my morning at a historic Viennese café, Café Central. Amidst beautiful pastries and steaming cups of hot coffee, I breakfasted and read my paper, taking in the other customers and soaking up the moment.

Somehow, in this half day, I felt more rejuvenated than I sometimes do after a week of vacation. Breaking my routines and taking time to appreciate art and life slowly reminded me of the importance of taking time out. I aim to do it a bit more often, whether set to Mozart and Sacher Torte or not, once I return to Estonia.

Through the looking glass

Reflections are probably only as precise as the instrument used to cast the image, I suppose. What you see mirrored in a lake is different than in a piece of tinfoil, a storefront window, or above the bathroom sink. Depending on how, when, and where you see a reflection, you may get a completely different idea of the original or actual composition. I too am a type of reflector, emitting a sort of reflection of the attitudes, diversity, interests, education, and ideas of my own home place. Depending on the lighting and materials surrounding me, I portray "my people" (a group whose composition or location may change at my own whim or for my own purposes) in a completely different shades.

From 2007-08-13 to...

I mention the metaphor because I can suddenly see my country through a new looking glass. Often while I am abroad for long stretches of time, I become incensed when others try to capsulize Americans into a clearcut list of stereotypes: Americans are stupid, fat, loud, casual, materialistic, insincere, patriotic, smiley, etc. I also add to these kinds of generalizations in an attempt to understand myself and where I come from in contrast to a different place or people. I have found myself uttering things such as "In the U.S., we do it this way..." or "Americans are usually like this..." Thwarting my own attempts to dispel such stereotypes, I contribute to an idea that you can capture a nation's entire reflection in a sound bite or mere reflection.

From 2007-08-08 Bi...

However, we all know that what we see in the mirror is just a bit different than how others perceive us. There is a likeness, but the image does not capture a whole person. Distortions increase proportionately when we try to take a look at ourselves in the back of a spoon or in a rear-view mirror while driving. A reflection helps us understand in someway the person others see us as, but it doesn't begin to tell of three dimensional shapes, lines, wrinkles, sparkles in eyes, or wide-mouthed laughter. In order to see those rich features, like Alice, we must step through the looking glass to encounter the person or place in its entirety.

From 2007-08-12 Bo...

My one-dimensional reflection of the United States while abroad has been warmed and enhanced during my visit home this summer. I have traveled in company. Hosting guests in Wyoming, South Dakota, and D.C. while home has helped me appreciate and understand those places better. Rose-colored glasses removed, I feel as if my reflections have improved with sharing. Through the eyes of visitors and hosts, I'm reminded of how askew my reflections sometimes become when I am not so close to home. I'm reminded that it is impossible to single-handedly capture the United States - or any place on this earth - with only your own eyes and devices.

From 2007-08-05 St...

Here are some of the things that have renewed and clarified the way I look at places I've known and visited for a long time:

• Wyoming is indeed rural and quite brown
• My family is funny, easy-going, and very cool
• Americans we have encountered along the way are über friendly and talkative
• I have a cool job as an ELF
  
• Air-conditioning is over-used and overly cool and I don't like it
• Food here is HUGE but can also be scrumptious
• The Big Horns are quiet and gorgeous
• Motorcycles (although very cool) are awfully loud sometimes
• The sky in Wyoming is enormous and very blue
• Summers are hot
• Washington, D.C. has a lot to offer
• Baseball is fun -- Go, Bowie Baysocks!
  
• Good friends are good friends no matter where or how often you meet
  
• I like living in Estonia
• Eavesdropping (because I can!) assures me that Americans are just like people everywhere else mostly (phew!)
• English is an interesting language that I fail to appreciate at times; I am still learning it and appreciative of its innovations and deviations (my family and friends are full of idioms and expressions new to me)
  
• Life here really requires a lot of driving, and I don't really like driving 15 minutes to the grocery so much anymore
  
• Basically, life here isn't so much different, depending on where you look, than anywhere else
  

From 2007-08-08 Bi...

Vroom vroom

I know that I professed a love of my bicycle, but nothing beats riding my motorcycle through the foothills to see Devil's Tower.

Black Hills Beauty

When I am in range of my hometown in Gillette, one of my favorite places to visit is the Black Hills National Forest, a small mountain range in Northwestern Wyoming and Eastern South Dakota. I made numerous trips to the Hills as a child, worked two summers in Custer at a camp when I was in college, and still really enjoy playing tourist in the area.



The area known also as Paha Sapa to by the Lakota seems like a special and sacred space to me. Its geological formation adds to its uniqueness -- created by a volcanic uplifting, the formation of the Hills is circular with rock formations jutting out and pointing to its most central point at Harney Peak (incidentally, one of my favorite hikes). From an areal view, you would see the center with several mountainous rings moving outward from it, like ripples moving from a disruption in a still pond. My summertime memories there are full of very dry and strong pine scents and sunrises watched from the top of rocks or other peaks. There are also the dozens of tacky tourist traps jutting out into the curvy roads promising a peak at the old west, its precious gems or gold, or other auspicious and out-of-place amusements such as the Flintstones village in Custer, SD.

I had a chance last weekend to revisit my favorite sights, and, in case you've never visited, I thought I would share the beauty with you.



The Days of '76 Parade and Rodeo in the historic downtown of Deadwood, South Dakota



A lone prairie dog stands watch over the whole prairie dog town in Custer State Park




Bison? Buffalo? Whatever you want to call them, we saw a whole herd on the wildlife loop in Custer, South Dakota



The Needles Highway still captures me with its spectacular shapes and heights



Silvan Lake is at the heart of the Hills



No trip to the Hills is complete without visiting the Faces at Mt. Rushmore



... and who can forget the cute little chipmunks scurrying underfoot!

Hiiumaa: A land for forest nymphs, fairies, and cyclists

If I could ever imagine a place that might be filled with small magical nymphs or fairies flitting about, I think that place would be Hiiumaa, a small island north of Estonia on the Baltic Sea. The last ten days I spend cycling through the woods listening to the sounds of singing birds, wind whipping through the tops of trees, and the occasional mosquito honing in on its next target.

The map
The itinerary

Day 1-2
Place: Tartu - Pärnu
Means of transport: Bus
Weather: Pretty rainy
Mood of vacationers: Excitement undampened

We are rained out and resort to kicking off our vacation by bus and head to the seaside resort town of Pärnu. While there, we stay with a friend's parents and are able to do some exploring of the town and even take in some of the flicks associated with the international film festival taking place there.

Day 3
Place: Pärnu - Virtsu - Muhu (over 110 km)
Means of transport: Bicycle, ferry
Weather: Cloudy and cool but without any raindrops
Mood of vacationers: Thrilled to be biking finally





Finally, we had a clear day, so we took off from the city to the bike trail going up the coast towards the port to the islands. Although we had intentions of making more pit stops, the weather looked a bit threatening and we were feeling energetic, so we kept on. This was our longest day of biking, but it felt good. Quiet forest roads with only one patch of nasty construction. When we rolled into Virtsu and the ferry was waiting, we decided to make our way to the island of Muhu for the evening. There, we lucked out and were able to stay at a rustic horse farm in a stable-like room with good company and really scrumptious home-made and home-grown grub.

Day 4
Place: Muhu - Orissaare
Means of transport: Bike
Weather: Pouring cats and dogs and other small animals
Mood of vacationers: A bit damp



We left the lovely horse farm to make it to the larger island of Saaremaa for the day with hopes the weather would improve; however, in a short distance less than 30 kilometers and a little more than an hour of biking, we were soaked and looking for refuge. We ducked into the tiny town of Orissare and found a dry place at a school-converted-hostel and spent the day reading books at a cozy cafe with fireplace. Brrr. I wasn't sure if it really was summer or not and wasn't too convinced a summer biking trip in Estonia was a brilliant idea anymore.

Day 5
Place: Orissaare - Emmaste - Haapsalu
Means of trasnport: Bike, boat, Uli's parents' rental car, boat
Weather: Brilliant blue skies in the morning later turning to dark clouds and rain
Mood of vacationers: Much like the weather



We got an early and excited start to our day thanks to the gorgeous blue skies and bright morning sun. The first ten kilometers were gorgeous. Spirits raised, we took pictures of the coast and began to enjoy the settling in of silence and the feeling of vacation. Of course, the promised day was a bit too good to be true! Uli's bike lost a pedal that resisted repair by duct tape, so he pedaled one-footed to the port where we caught a boat to Hiiumaa. His parents, also vacationing in Estonia, met us at the port and whisked us away as it began to rain to the bigger mainland town of Haapsalu. Barely making the ferry, we were happy to be dry and on the way to fixing the bike.

Day 6
Place: Haapsalu
Mode of transport: Foot
Weather: Sunny - Cloudy - Rainy
Mood of vacationers: Relaxed and happy



We stayed an extra day in Haapsalu with Uli's parents and fixed the bike in a snap in the morning. We enjoyed the beautiful coastal town and were even treated to an afternoon at a spa hotel and a brass concert on the promenade in the evening. After the rest and beautiful day, we were rejuvenated and ready to hit the road once again.

*I am reminded of my grandmother when I add the tidbit that there was excellent blueberry pie in a cute coffee shop downtown!

Day 7
Place: Haapsalu - Kärdla - Luidja
Mode of transport: Bike, ferry
Weather: Windy and cool
Mood of vacationers: Content (except for those grumpy moments when cycling against the wind)



We took off early in the morning to put our vacation back on track. We enjoyed a nice day of cycling, complete with a great pit-stop in the northern coastal town of Hiiumaa, Kärdla for a nice lunch and finishing at Hiiumaa's most beautiful beach in Luidja. We were lucky enough to find accommodation in a house meant for mothers and their young children (a kind of mother-baby camp) as it was the only room in the vicinity and we were pooped from a long, windy day of cycling. We finished our day with a sunny beach picnic and looked forward to a couple of days of rest.

Day 8
Place: Luidja - Kõpu - Ristna - Luidja
Mode of transport: Bike
Weather: Cloudy but nice
Mood of vacationers: Relaxed, happy, and satiated after forest blueberry eating







We took off in the morning to see the farthest point west on the island. Complete with wild blueberries and strawberries growing in the forest, an old lighthouse built on the highest point of the island (68 meters), gusty coastal wind and waters, and lovely forest paths, we had one of our best days of cycling and vacation exploring this remote area of the island. In the evening, we returned to a barbecue complete with three two-year olds and their parents, a couple of cats, a bottle of wine, dozens of mosquitoes eating Uli, and lovely dinner of sausages and fresh salad.

Day 9
Place: Luidja - Emmaste - Käina - Suuremõisa
Mode of transport: Bike
Weather: Mostly sunny!
Mood of vacationers: Downright õnnelik :)



What we thought would be a longer day of cycling turned out to be a piece of cake and we arrived in Käina early hoping to visit the sea or do some swimming. After searching for a sea inlet, we were disappointed and decided to instead head to our cottage accommodation in nearby Suuremõisa for a relaxed evening of strolling about the area, picnicking, and reading. Allika, the place where we stayed for two nights, was a gorgeous Estonian country home restored and decorated traditionally and surrounded by lush garden, rose bushes, and flowers.

Day 10
Place: Suuremõisa - Kassari - Suuremõisa
Mode of transport: Bicycle
Weather: Gorgeous, cool but sunny
Mood of vacationers: Completely relaxed



We took a day trip to the southernmost point of the island where it was rumored there was good swimming. Highlights did not include swimming (it was a bit too cold!) but rather a 3 km stretch of the island jutting out into the sea where you can walk and practice skipping stones.

Day 11
Place: Suuremõisa - Haapsalu - Tallinn - Tartu
Mode of transport: Bike, ferry, bike, bus, bike, train
Weather: Sunny
Mood of vacationers: Relaxed but a bit melancholic the trip was already over



Time to head back to Tartu to take care of some final details before going to the U.S. We headed off on an ambitious day of travel all the way back home to Tartu with memories of the quiet forested seaside in Hiiumaa. A great vacation.

The summary
Phenomenal trip with great memories. Check it out for yourself in the photo gallery below!

2007-07-09 to 2007-07-18 Jenn Uli Estonia (Hiiumaa) bike trip

Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam...

On my way back to the place where skies are blue and the deer and the antelope play and taking off in less than two days for some Wyoming summer vacation, and I can hardly contain my excitement (that's why I share it here!).

Quatsch!

I have been missing in action the last month or so, and so I thought it was due time to catch y’all up on my whereabouts and doings.

The second half of June was spent in an enchanting town of fountains and springs in Western Germany, Aachen. My experiences there were full of lush green countryside, happy family and friends and neighbors eager to teach me the fine subtleties of the German language (most frequently uttered word in the environments where I spent my time: Quatsch! or Nonsense!), and the end of an arduous doctoral masterpiece and the many festivities associated with its finale. I met a lot of new people, went to a ballroom dancing tournament, visited a fantastic exhibit of the photorealist American painter Chuck Close, got more than my fill of cool rainy days (aha! There’s a relationship between the greenery and precipitation!), meandered through a wonderful city and enjoyed its fountains, churches, main square, Starbucks, colossal book stores, and other secrets.

From 2007-06 Aachen

As a cultural aside, it was really interesting to note some of the ceremonies associated with finishing doctoral work in German universities. One such celebratory custom is one I would like to see adopted elsewhere: the doctor hat. When PhD students finish the grueling task of their degree, they are presented a handmade hat from their colleagues which includes personal, academic, professional, and whimsical notes about the time they spent studying together. I include Uli’s hat here as an example. His hat included a lego home (used as a model demonstrator for the eHome systems of his doctoral work in informatics – click here for more details and here for a video about his work), sandals in a cotton-bed of snow as he wears them year-round, a Linux penguin, an mp3 player of his laugh (quite distinctive, you’d say if you ever met him), and other anecdotes and inside jokes from his studies. A representative makes a presentation of the hat with an explanation for colleagues, family, and friends and the reception. To me, it seems a special memento, personal honor, and meaningful testament to the time spent together in community learning and studying for the last time (at least in a degree program). A very nice sending off.

The last weeks have been rather busy as well. I finished up at the University of Tartu for the year and moved all of my accumulated mass of possessions to another location for summer storage until I return in the fall. A good week was spent scurrying around dealing with landlords, immigration, healthcare, and other fun bureaucratic quatsch.

The last ten days have been total paradise biking on the Estonian coast and islands. More on that adventure in the next post (pictures forthcoming).

Small world after all

A trite saying . . . A tacky ride at Disneyland . . . Something you flippantly say when you are about to move to a new place far, far away for a long period of time . . . and perhaps an undeniably true maxim for our ever-shrinking globe.

Case in point:

I spent the last three days in The Netherlands visiting a friend from graduate school who is doing an internship with an organization in The Hague. (Off the topic of this specific story, I can tell you that I really enjoyed my visit to Holland and thought Amsterdam was one of the most beautiful places I have been. I also saw some amazing art in person with my own eyes: van Gogh, Vermeer, Rembrandt!).


On the last evening that I was there, Pasha and I headed to Delft, a town just outside of The Hague and within walking distance from the place where Pasha is living. You can see a picture of the lovely village as it was painted by Vermeer on the right (I saw this painting myself in The Hague the following day). It's a smaller version of other cities I visited in the Netherlands and has beautiful churches, lovely cobblestone streets, and canals snaking through it. If the funny-sounding name of Delft does not roll off your tongue familiarly, you may recognize it visually in its blue-and-white Dutch porcelain, Delft Blue or Royal Delft. We stopped for some dinner on the square and enjoyed a charming evening in this historic and attractive place. Of the many topics of our dinner conversation was an encounter that Pasha had previously in Delft when wearing a small town Minnesota baseball team t-shirt, the town being a rather small farming town and far, far away from the Netherlands, to say the least. A man rushed up to him, excited to see such a display of hometown pride as he was from that very place. A small world.

The small world only began to reveal itself when we left the outdoor terrace of the restaurant in search of a glass of some good Dutch beer. On our way home, we saw an open door to a pub next to a church (I have often wondered why it is that pubs in Europe are always next to churches...). We walked in and Pasha inquired at the bar about the kind of beers they had on tap. The man wearing a vest on the other side smiled and informed us that he had only good, cold beer. At this moment, a man approaches us and says, "I don't know you, and I don't know you either. Who are you?" It was clear that the pub we entered was in fact something private, and we began to awkwardly reorient ourselves as a few people gathered around us, awaiting our answers.

At that moment, I noticed the large man who had inquired was proudly sporting a yellow t-shirt on which was a monogram of a bucking cowboy and the name of the most magical and wonderful state, Wyoming. Instead of answering the inquiry, I turned and asked him where he got such a t-shirt. Long story turned short, the man was from Casper, Wyoming, about two and a half hours south of my hometown, and he was a doctoral students studying mining in Delft. The pub we turned into was the local mining fraternity. After exchanging a few stories about rural Wyoming and the like, we chuckled and parted. A very small world after all.