I did some math yesterday, and realized that the lost bag contained almost $1000 worth of stuff. Most of it collected over time, even years, but I was awestruck nonetheless. I am, however, not feeling very upset about it. I have put myself back together for about €120 and not only is my bag much lighter, but I got to buy a new bag (price included in the 120 spent) and I love to buy new bags. As soon as I can update my blog using my own computer, I will post a picture of it, it's pretty.
I saw a lot of the major sights of Berlin on foot yesterday and today, I ate noodles out of a cardboard box, and spent more time out after dark during the last 4 days than I have in ages. Berlin after dark, in this district anyway, isn't scary or crazy, and not really any more cold than during the day. All the people are so nice and helpful, and it is so pretty here, though prettier I am sure in spring and summer when all the trees and parks are growing and green. The only thing I don't like about Belin so far is that I don't know any German (except the word for coffee, koffe, which was as easy to pick up as it is essential to my daily routine). I wish knew even basic words. Instead I rely on the impressive people all over the city who switch to English for me as soon as they realize, or I tell them, that I speak no German. One of the hostel guys shamed me the other day as he carried on three simultaneous conversations in different languages. He was using German, English, and Spanish, and though I could tell that he isn't 100% fluent in Spanish, he is much better than I am, and was switching between all three to boot. Ahhh, someday that would be a talent to have.
I leave for Russia tomorrow, and am looking foward to having company again, though the last two days alone have really helped me to regain my center and focus on this journey. I am also reading "What should I do with my Life" by Po Bronson, a book my dad bought me when I graduated college, but never had the time or motivation to finish reading then. Dana lent it to me a few days ago, and I am halfway through it. I am not sure it is helping me to come to a decision, but I think the stories will be in the back of my head when it comes time to decide, if that time ever comes I suppose, which i imagine it must at some point.
I am freezing and hungry, so off I go for dinner. I hope this finds everyone well.
30.1.07
29.1.07
Two days in Berlin
Well, Dana and I spent a good day in Berlin. The first night I got in we stayed up until arund 5:00 am when it was all said and done. I borrowed her shampoo and washed my hair, and then we walked around for an hour trying to find a place to have a drink. We ended up at this Spanish restaurant for a couple of hours, because they just stay open if you are still there. When we finally left, they gave us a ticket to come back the next day and have a free meal, 2 for the price of 1. So we did that; we had steak and sangria. We decided that all this time in the El Dorado was actually our Barcelona vacation together. We went back there later that night and drank beer and free sambuca until around 3:00am. Then we went back to the hostel for some sleep before Dana's 10:00 am flight back to Moscow. Problem: we stayed out too late, got up too late, and then moved to slow (a problem soon to remedied). Once we got to the train station, we realized that we should have checked the train times because the fast train had been cancelled and the 50 minute train would arrive at the airport just before her check-in was closing. Another close call. The metro stops just outside the airport a little ways, so we jumped off and suddenly, though I swore I would never do it again, I was running to catch a plane. Well, Dana's plane, but I had one of her bags. Anyway, she just barely made it, which was awesome becuase her conference started last night, and had she missed the plane she wouldn't be there until sometime today, which is too late.
I came back to our neighborhood, had lunch, and then slept during the afternoon. I was so tired from the last 4 days, it just had to happen. I was then overly awake last night and stayed up until 2 reading. But today is a new day, I am drinking black coffee, finishing my email, and then I am off to sight see a little this afternoon. Tomorrow I will try and take the 4 hour walking tour my sister recommended, and Wednesday I head back to the airport to catch my flight to Moscow. I will, however, be on the 7:35 metro in order to avoid the panicked running.
I came back to our neighborhood, had lunch, and then slept during the afternoon. I was so tired from the last 4 days, it just had to happen. I was then overly awake last night and stayed up until 2 reading. But today is a new day, I am drinking black coffee, finishing my email, and then I am off to sight see a little this afternoon. Tomorrow I will try and take the 4 hour walking tour my sister recommended, and Wednesday I head back to the airport to catch my flight to Moscow. I will, however, be on the 7:35 metro in order to avoid the panicked running.
28.1.07
To Berlin
Well, i made it.
with all the friends and familz i have had abroad over the years, i have read manz emails typed on foriegn keyboards, and heard the same explanation apologiying for mistakes: it's the keyboard. well, i make a lot mistakes because i often type too fast to notice them, but let me tell you, besides navigating these sites in german, which i am doing mostlz by color and memory, since i have no german skills, these keyboards are just different enough to be totally annoying. so i apologize about the bad spelling and other mistakes. it's the keyboard.
in berlin, it was a long couple of days. i have discovered that i was well prepared with my packing: warm socks, hat and gloves, shampoo good (after two days on an airplane and running through airports, shampoo is a must); sink stopper for washing, towel and sleeping bag for cheaper hostel rates. i imagine that the list goes on and on, however i can't say for sure because i am reciting it from memory. i made it to berlin (just barely) but my bag didn't. after arriving in madrid 2 1/2 hours later due to snow in philadelphia, i just barely missed my flight to barcelona. the nice people at us airways reallz helped me out by getting me a ticket with a different airline to take a shuttle leaving every half an hour to barcelona from madrid, but first i had to spend a hour waiting to see if they had my backpack. no luck, so another half an hour to make a claim so it can be sent to me when they track it down. then i had to take the green bus to terminal 4 where i spent an hour standing in lines and talking to 7 different people in order to find where i was supposed to check in. what you need to know about this is that it took me an hour to get 5 minutes across the airport. my checkin center was in the back, down an unmarked hallway, and i suppose i am just no good at understanding directions in the broken english, half spanish that i was communicating in. anyway, by the time i got on that flight i realized that i would have about 5 minutes for checkin for my flight to berlin after arrival. this is not good, because if you miss an easyjet flight, that's it. no refund, no helpful staff finding you another flight, and besides that dana would be at the airport at 10:30 at night waiting for me. i ran. i ran, and since i had no luggage to check i threw myself, a good 5 minutes late for the final checkin time, on the mercy of the two women at the counter. i was given two steely glares, a reprimand for not being more than 40 minutes early for mý flight, and somehow miraculously a boarding pass. i was so stressed out at this point, not fully believeing that i would actually make it, that i wanted to cry, but i could only laugh at how close i had come and that i had actually made it. upon arrival, i looked around and couldnät find dana, but i tried not to panic as everything else had worked that day. i looked around, got some cash from the atm and was suddenlz attacked by the blonde dana girl i know and love, wearing a verz long, very russian winter coat.
we stayed up until 4:00am drinking beer.
with all the friends and familz i have had abroad over the years, i have read manz emails typed on foriegn keyboards, and heard the same explanation apologiying for mistakes: it's the keyboard. well, i make a lot mistakes because i often type too fast to notice them, but let me tell you, besides navigating these sites in german, which i am doing mostlz by color and memory, since i have no german skills, these keyboards are just different enough to be totally annoying. so i apologize about the bad spelling and other mistakes. it's the keyboard.
in berlin, it was a long couple of days. i have discovered that i was well prepared with my packing: warm socks, hat and gloves, shampoo good (after two days on an airplane and running through airports, shampoo is a must); sink stopper for washing, towel and sleeping bag for cheaper hostel rates. i imagine that the list goes on and on, however i can't say for sure because i am reciting it from memory. i made it to berlin (just barely) but my bag didn't. after arriving in madrid 2 1/2 hours later due to snow in philadelphia, i just barely missed my flight to barcelona. the nice people at us airways reallz helped me out by getting me a ticket with a different airline to take a shuttle leaving every half an hour to barcelona from madrid, but first i had to spend a hour waiting to see if they had my backpack. no luck, so another half an hour to make a claim so it can be sent to me when they track it down. then i had to take the green bus to terminal 4 where i spent an hour standing in lines and talking to 7 different people in order to find where i was supposed to check in. what you need to know about this is that it took me an hour to get 5 minutes across the airport. my checkin center was in the back, down an unmarked hallway, and i suppose i am just no good at understanding directions in the broken english, half spanish that i was communicating in. anyway, by the time i got on that flight i realized that i would have about 5 minutes for checkin for my flight to berlin after arrival. this is not good, because if you miss an easyjet flight, that's it. no refund, no helpful staff finding you another flight, and besides that dana would be at the airport at 10:30 at night waiting for me. i ran. i ran, and since i had no luggage to check i threw myself, a good 5 minutes late for the final checkin time, on the mercy of the two women at the counter. i was given two steely glares, a reprimand for not being more than 40 minutes early for mý flight, and somehow miraculously a boarding pass. i was so stressed out at this point, not fully believeing that i would actually make it, that i wanted to cry, but i could only laugh at how close i had come and that i had actually made it. upon arrival, i looked around and couldnät find dana, but i tried not to panic as everything else had worked that day. i looked around, got some cash from the atm and was suddenlz attacked by the blonde dana girl i know and love, wearing a verz long, very russian winter coat.
we stayed up until 4:00am drinking beer.
19.1.07
the front cover
In the Log of Human Misery
by Greg Keeler
Is irony something beyond us-in the mind
of a fish (if fish have minds), in the way a dog
cocks its head or a cat looks behind
itself when it knows nothing's there? In the log
of human misery, the fates always provide
these illustrations: man bites dog, fish hook
hooks fisherman, soldier gives birth, bride
ditches wedding, universe implodes. Look
behind every tragedy and you're bound to find
a joke. In some cosmic emergency room,
the dog, the fisherman, the soldier, the bride all wind
up getting healed to the sound of laughter. And soon
enough, the universe is expanding again,
blowing off the fatal tragedies like Zen.
by Greg Keeler
Is irony something beyond us-in the mind
of a fish (if fish have minds), in the way a dog
cocks its head or a cat looks behind
itself when it knows nothing's there? In the log
of human misery, the fates always provide
these illustrations: man bites dog, fish hook
hooks fisherman, soldier gives birth, bride
ditches wedding, universe implodes. Look
behind every tragedy and you're bound to find
a joke. In some cosmic emergency room,
the dog, the fisherman, the soldier, the bride all wind
up getting healed to the sound of laughter. And soon
enough, the universe is expanding again,
blowing off the fatal tragedies like Zen.
8.1.07
Daily
It's late and my bags are half-packed. Actually, they aren't packed at all; I have stacks of things laying about, sorted through and needing to be further sorted and then pared down into what actually goes. I am getting rid of many, many things and the rest is packed into Rubbermade bins, which are all various shades of purple. I am not really sure how that happened; I don't much care for purple.
My plans seem to be changing daily, and every once in a while the half-thought, "what the hell am I thinking?" begins to creep into my mind. I should have done some better planning, saved some more money, decided something concrete. But I don't feel any real fear yet, only the excitement about the vague idea of what I will be making my life into. (The fear will come, when I am alone in a foreign airport and beginning to care that I don't speak the local language). Perhaps I have idealized it a little bit. It would be hard not to, I think, when my plans really boil down to moving to the south of France. It sounds ideal. But more than anything else, I want my life to match the picture I have of what it should be. I might fail miserably, have a terrible time, and run out of money just a few months in; I might. But I have failed before, and I figure if it's going to happen again, it may as well be in France. I am ready to be doing something I have been wanting to do since I was sitting in a little sandwich shop in the middle of rural Spain, already in the middle of traveling and writing down future travel plans on a napkin: traveling again.
My plans seem to be changing daily, and every once in a while the half-thought, "what the hell am I thinking?" begins to creep into my mind. I should have done some better planning, saved some more money, decided something concrete. But I don't feel any real fear yet, only the excitement about the vague idea of what I will be making my life into. (The fear will come, when I am alone in a foreign airport and beginning to care that I don't speak the local language). Perhaps I have idealized it a little bit. It would be hard not to, I think, when my plans really boil down to moving to the south of France. It sounds ideal. But more than anything else, I want my life to match the picture I have of what it should be. I might fail miserably, have a terrible time, and run out of money just a few months in; I might. But I have failed before, and I figure if it's going to happen again, it may as well be in France. I am ready to be doing something I have been wanting to do since I was sitting in a little sandwich shop in the middle of rural Spain, already in the middle of traveling and writing down future travel plans on a napkin: traveling again.
4.1.07
Barcelona
I am moving to France. I never wanted to go to France, or learn French, or speak French, or listen to French on any kind of regular basis. To me, French is a slurred language of smashed sounds, not the most romantic language in the world. However, I find myself on my way to France, and not only the most excited I have been in ages, but perhaps the most excited I have ever been.
First things first though, I am flying into Barcelona; I am returning to Barcelona. After spending a month in Spain six years ago, one among twenty two countries visited, Barcelona remains my favorite city. And the thought of returning somewhere loved is always something to be excited about. Then I meet Dana in Moscow for at least two weeks in Russia. Russia in January may not be the smartest plan I have ever made, but I can't wait to go. I learned the Cyrillic alphabet last year, and practicing my few words of Russian, attempting to read signs, and even perhaps a Russian aerobics class, I am most excited about visiting Dana.
First things first though, I am flying into Barcelona; I am returning to Barcelona. After spending a month in Spain six years ago, one among twenty two countries visited, Barcelona remains my favorite city. And the thought of returning somewhere loved is always something to be excited about. Then I meet Dana in Moscow for at least two weeks in Russia. Russia in January may not be the smartest plan I have ever made, but I can't wait to go. I learned the Cyrillic alphabet last year, and practicing my few words of Russian, attempting to read signs, and even perhaps a Russian aerobics class, I am most excited about visiting Dana.
Life is Elsewhere
I've heard it said, seriously and in jest, a thousand times over: the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. Well, more often than not reaching the other side does not mean greener pastures, but the trip to find it is no less worth while. I am moving to France, and I don't know what I will find there, but when I think about what I want my life to be, this is it. Living abroad, traveling more, learning a few words from as many languages as possible...