Monday, February 18, 2008
Witchcraft?
Saudi Arabia has one of the most conservative Islamic societies in the world. The country is ran by a monarchy and frequently finds itself the subject of international criticism for human rights violations. The latest case to cause controversy is the case of Fawza Falih, an illiterate Saudi woman who stands accused by the Saudi Government of witchcraft.
Falih was detained by the Saudi Arabian religious police in 2005. She was allegedly beaten and forced to sign a confession. The confession, which was not even read to her, stated that she "bewitched" a man and caused him impotence. After she was found guilty at her trial, Falih claimed that since she could not read or write, her confession could not be held against her. Her case was appealed and the death sentence was overturned. But shortly afterwards, the death sentence was reimposed for the sake of "public interest". At this moment, Falih is awaiting her fate, a public beheading, in a Saudi prison.
This story is drawing attention from all over the world, appearing in online newspapers such as BBC, Dailymail, & The Register. Oddly it is receiving only limited attention from the American media. The human rights protection group, Human Rights Watch has filed a petition to the Saudi monarch, King Abdullah. They are imploring him to stay this execution on the grounds of an improper trial and unsubstantiated claims. Witchcraft is against Muslim law but it remains undefined in the Saudi law code. This basically means that if a judge finds one guilty of witchcraft, there is no inquiry or investigation and no proof of the act is required.
Even in a world where women have substantially less rights than men, Falih's rights were still apparently not honored. Reports state that she was not allowed to have her representatives present when her case was being discussed. Her case should have been held by a panel of three judges, but it was not.
In my opinion, this is a tragedy that could only be carried out by the most evil of men. It is not difficult to imagine that the accusers involved in this case have some sort of personal vendetta against Falih or her family. Or perhaps an accuser is trying desperately to keep a secret and is lucky enough to have connections in the Saudi joke of a judicial system. I find it very difficult to imagine any scenario in which a sane person would find Falih guilty of a crime that warranted her death.I find it even more beguiling that this story is not getting more coverage in the American media. And worse still is that as the supposed defenders of human rights all over the world, the United States government has not made any public statements to the Saudi government urging the Saudi King to prevent this deplorable act. Sorry. Am I buggin you? Don't mean to bug ya.
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Sunday, February 17, 2008
What Equilibrium Means To Me
EQUILIBRIUMAccording to Merriam-Webster:Etymology: Latin aequilibrium, from aequilibris being in equilibrium, from aequi- + libra weight, balanceDate: 16081 a: a state of intellectual or emotional balance : poise b: a state of adjustment between opposing or divergent influences or elements2: a state of balance between opposing forces or actions that is either static (as in a body acted on by forces whose resultant is zero) or dynamic (as in a reversible chemical reaction when the rates of reaction in both directions are equal)3: balance
---------This word describes many things that I like and/or feel like I want to strive for.
1. Balance -- in the physical sense. Not falling down is good. Especially when snowboarding.
2. My zodiac sign is Libra, the scales. Not that I really believe in that stuff, but it is interesting that I have come to identify myself with the scales in many ways.
3. Fair mindedness. Something that I always try to have.
4. Justice/Injustice. I like to see bad deeds punished and good deeds rewarded.
5. Nature. Seeing and observing nature. Pay attention. Nature is trying to find it's own balance.
6. Politics. Politics are the opposite of balance. Biased. Don't like it.
7. Religion. "My religion is right and yours is wrong". Don't like it.
8. Debate, which I have been doing a lot of lately. Be open minded. Don't see things in black and white. Most people cannot be easily categorized or sterotyped. Issues are more complex than that. Try to see clearly through the fog.
9. Science. Balance is what our universe is striving for.
10. Career. Not too much work, not too much play.
11. Personal. My wife is back and all is right in my world.
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Sunday, February 03, 2008
Romania
This is something I've been meaning to write about for almost a month now... the infamous trip to Bucharest, Romania to celebrate New Year's Eve.
I didn't really know who's idea it was to go to Bucharest, but it sounded cool. It's sort of one of those places that I never really thought I would visit. I always heard great things about eastern European cities. Supposedly everything is cheaper, the beer is good, people are nice, and the girls, you always hear about the hot girls that grow on trees in eastern Europe. Hot girls that don't know they're hot, and they're poor.
That's what you always hear. Sorry to disappoint any readers, but the hot girls are not the focus of this blog!
The plan was thrown together rather quickly and close to the last minute. Thanks to
Jess for doing most of the legwork! A group of 8 of us bought our tickets and Jess reserved us a couple of apartments right across the hall from each other. Bucharest was covered in snow and ice. Not even kidding - it was freaking cold! The city didn't have the old nice architecture that many other European cities have. It was pretty much dominated by generic communist-era apartment buildings - which is exaclty what our apartment building was. Concrete, nothing fancy but the rooms were nice inside.
Lake SnagovOne of the main things we wanted to see on this trip was Lake Snagov. Any Dracula buff or anyone who's read the book "The Historian" will know about this legendary monastery that sits on a little island on this little lake. And it was the scene of our first Romanian adventure.
Our second day started with us rounding everyone up for our little field trip. We had quickly discovered that it wasn't very easy to get good information from the locals.
For some reason, we could ask three people the same question and get three different answers. The public transportation system seemed okay, but it seemed almost impossible to get information about it. We had some guidebooks but they had proven to be inaccurate too. Jess and I did a little research on how to get to Snagov and decided to try the buses.
A taxi to one piata, (which is Romanian for piazza, plaza, square, etc.) where the bus was supposed to leave from, but ummm, yeah no buses there. A guy at a hotel told us to go to another piata. So we jump into taxis again. Look for the 443 bus. It apparently did not exist today. Lucky for us there was someone in the information booth! She spoke no English so I broke out my eastern European phrasebook and asked in probably horrible Romanian how to get to Snagov and she said the 443 bus... which we still hadn't seen yet. Not on the schedule but it's coming! Do we need to buy tickets? I still don't know the answer to that one. Whatever. We waited outside in the cold for about an hour before another taxi driver offered to take us to Snagov directly. Negotiate a price up front because I'm no sucker and we gotta deal.
After about 30 minutes into the taxi ride, we had arrived in the little town of Snagov. This was a small rural village that's kind of hard to describe. Tiny homes, dirt roads, horse-pulled carts, and old beat up cars, one even standing on it's side. No restaurants, no stores, nothing that said, "Hey welcome to Snagov, stay awhile!" Hopefully you're getting the image of a not very inviting place. The dreary weather and the astonished stares from the locals added to the atmosphere.
It was about this time that I realized that we never really clarified that we wanted to go to the monastery on the lake where Vlad Tepes was supposedly buried. OHHHHH, I guess we should have! I mean why would 8 Americans, standing like idiots at a local bus station in the freezing cold want to go to a famous local attraction?
Did we look like locals? Did we speak the language? Maybe he thought we lived in Snagov? I can see why he might have been confused.
Come on dude, seriously? Yeah, we want to go to the monastary. Oh, well normally we could take a boat across the lake and over to the island, but since it's so freaking cold the lake is frozen and the boat isn't running. We were given the option of walking across the frozen lake from here but it was like 6 kilometers away. To drive there? That's like another 20 minutes away. Call me crazy but the 20 minute ride in a heated taxi sounded way better than a 6 kilometer walk across a frozen lake.
The taxi driver who actually turned out to be pretty cool had just morphed into our personal tour guide. Him and the other driver were both nice enough to take us to the landing opposite the island. From here it was only about hundred yards across the frozen Lake Snagov. It was just a little dirt road that led to an old broken down pier. There were a couple little canoes that were lying in weeds and half covered in snow and ice. I started to wonder if anyone ever really comes to visit this place. I would have thought that we weren't in the right place and a horrible miscommunication had happened if it weren't for the street signs that said we were standing on the corner of Snagov Road and Vlad Tepes Avenue. The guidebooks made it sound like thiswas one of Romania's most popular tourist attractions but by the looks of it so far, it was just an old backwater church that only the locals visit.
There were dozens of locals standing on the lake ice fishing. They all gave us blank stares as we walked past. I had never walked across a frozen lake before so I thought it was pretty cool. When we got to the island, a tall bearded guy who was gathering wood saw us coming and spoke in Romanian to our taxi driver/tour guide. He was apparently the tenant monk of the monastery. He let us in and stood at the door at his little souvenir stand. I kind of wondered if he was Dracula. Hmmmm....
The inside of the monastery was beautiful albeit tiny. The walls were covered with murals, frescoes I think, of all kinds of biblical scenes. There was a little informational board that had a short story of Vlad Tepes - Vlad the Impaler - and said that he was buried here. I snuck an unauthorized photo of his grave and you can see it in my photo album.
Like so many trips turn out, this little day trip was more of an adventure than we anticipated, but soooo worth it.
New Year's Eve
We'd found the local mall, Joe and Dave had spent a little time in the casinos, we'd all been harassing Charlie with the high-pitched annoying voices from the "Charlie the Unicorn" video, and we were awaiting Crystal's arrival with her two cousins who were visiting from the states.
Crystal's cousin Mikey had an accident at the airport and busted up his face pretty bad. Lucky for him that the Romanian dentist did a great job fixing him up. And Mikey was a trooper thru the whole thing and kept his sense of humor about the whole thing.
At one point when we were leaving the apartment, we all got an unmistakable whiff of the scent of shit. On the floor underneath ours sitting in the corner of the concrete floor was a steaming pile of it. Still fresh! Pretty disgusting I must say. We debated if it was dog shit or human shit. And discussed how long before it got cleaned up. Well it might still be there for all I know. It stayed there for the whole length of our stay.
But the whole point of the trip was partying in Bucharest on New Year's Eve.
We started the last night of 2007 in a Dracula theme restaurant. Again, it was a bit of an adventure to get there since nobody really even knew if it existed or not. But we found it and it was very cool. The food was excellent and the atmosphere was neat. The only bad thing was the crazy old man that was playing the part of Dracula. He was either drunk or senile or both and he wouldn't leave Jess and Crystal alone.Once we got rid of him he didn't come back. We finished up and left.
I guess we didn't really have a good plan on where to go next but the one consistent answer we could get was that the place to be for New Year's festivities was the University Square. So we bundled up and headed out to brave the cold. We ended up watching a pretty decent fireworks display and a cool light show. Then we hit an Irish Pub for a bit. After that a few of us were ready to find a club, although I can't really say that I was. It wasn't long before somebody pissed me off and I decided to bolt. I let everybody down and didn't stay out late like we planned. 2:30am was pretty much good enough for me. Oh well, I guess my age is catching up with me! The next day was spent sleeping, resting, and telling each other stories of what happened to us all.
Brasov
Our flight back to Italy wasn't until the 3rd. So Jess, Nestor, and I decided to jump on a train and take a day trip up to a town called Brasov in Transylvania. It was a beautiful medieval town that had all the things that Bucharest lacked. Nice Renaissance style buildings that hadn't been demolished to build apartment buildings, a pedestrian historical center, and surrounded by mountains, it was a great place to walk around and have a nice lunch. Too bad it was still soooo freaking cold!
Now the train ride was a bit of an adventure itself. We ran into the same problems with not being able to get the information we needed. We couldn't even figure out if we had return tickets to get us back to Bucharest. Not even the workers at the train stations would give us straight answers.
We didn't figure it out until we got back on the train back to Bucharest and realized that we were allowed on the train, but we just didn't have seats! So we were lucky enough to spend a three-hour train ride standing up, shoulder-to-shoulder with a train car full of people. And at every stop, more people just kept getting on. The second worst train ride of my life. (Rimini-to-Sacile, Italy, Summer 2005 was the worst).
The Trip Home
Unfortunately for Romania, I think my lasting memory of that country will be the last day we all spent there. It was without question my worst travel experience ever.
First of all a blizzard came through the night before and the roads were getting bad even as early as 5am. We even had trouble getting taxis willing to take us to the airport. The check-in agent told us that all the flights were still on schedule, so we checked in and proceeded into the holding cell that was to be our home for the next 16 hours.
Yep, that's what I said, 16 hours we waited in this small, dirty, stinky, room. Despite the glimmer of hope that check-in girl gave us, all the flights were delayed. The weather was awful and the snow was coming down harder than ever. This room was probably built for about 150 people, but there might have been close to 500 of us in there. All the seats were taken so we spent the time sitting or laying on the floor. We weren't allowed to leave since we had passed through customs. There was nothing to eat, a small duty-free store that was selling bottled water, perfume, and cigarettes.
I think it's mandatory in Romania that everyone smokes. So even though we weren't allowed to pass back out through customs, we were allowed to go out onto the airport's flightline to smoke. Does that make any sense? So people were braving the extreme cold and snow to smoke and then coming back in and tracking dirt and mud onto the floor we were all trying to sleep on.
Then a few guys decided that they didn't want to go outside to smoke anymore so they took over the bathroom and hung out in there. Thanks guys, that was a great idea. Very considerate to the rest of us. It wasn't long before the whole room filled up with smoke.
Okay, so the smoke I can deal with. But now everybody's getting hungry. It's about noon and we've had nothing to eat. So our airline brings plastic-wrapped sandwiches in for everyone. The other airlines bought McDonald's for all their stranded passengers. Lucky.
This whole time we have no idea what's going on since everything is in Romanian. Finally we get word that our plane will take off at 5pm. Hey, only 12 hours late! We actually got on the plane and took off! Finally! Free at last!!!! Nope.
About 30 minutes into the flight a crazy noise started coming from the back of the plane. It sounded like a vacuum. Like a wind blowing through a door that wasn't closed all the way. Not good. The flight attendants kinda freaked out. This did not breed confidence in the passengers. The pilot came back to look. And a few minutes later, the plane had turned around and we were landing back in Bucharest.
Whatever you do, please don't make us go back into that prison cell of a holding area!
We waited on the plane for about 2 hours while mechanics "fixed and tested" the problem. Everything seemed good I guess because we took off again and we thought we would finally be on our way home. Well, no.
Again, about 30 minutes later and about 20,000 feet up in the air the noise came back. This time we didn't even care. Just keep flying as long as the back of the plane doesn't break apart. We just want to go home!
Nope sorry, we gotta turn around again. And this time we all had to get off the plane and go back into our prison. It was worse than before. More people in there. Dirtier than before. And this time we had no hope. We were gonna be in Romania for a looooooong time.
And this time the people were more pissed off than before. It was a clusterfuck in the truest sense of the term. People were chanting. Yelling. Babies crying. Hundreds of people stranded in the hell of a room (if I believed in hell this would be how I imagine it) with no food. The water was long gone. A disgusting bathroom. Nowhere to sit but the nasty floor. People trying to start fights with the poor employees that were trying to get people on planes. All the while we don't even know what's going on since no one will speak English to us or try to let us know what's up.
The only thing I cared about was getting out of this airport. And finally at about 2am on the following day our flight took off and didn't turn around. No noise this time. We landed at the right place and we finally made it home.
Sorry there was so much about air travel and so little about hot girls. If you ever go to Bucharest, go in the summer.
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Monday, December 24, 2007
The Great Gas FiascoOne of the things I've been spending my leisure time doing is reading. One of the topics that I have taken particular interest in is the role of oil in our society and the world. If you ask any of my friends, any long conversation with me will probably lead to me saying something about one of 3 things; evolution of human society, the evils of religion, and the abuse of the earth's resources.
Pretty pragmatic I know. I should throw in a good Harry Potter book or something.
A couple weeks ago I had a couple good friends come to visit me from the states, Lia (A-Dub) and Wez. I worked with Wez at Osan AB in Korea and Lia is his lovely wife. I remember having conversations in Korea with Lia, Susan, Anne, and Jamin about the war, oil, and such. Back then I had different views on things. Back then I remember thinking that the U.S. action in the middle east was pretty much justified and I was convinced that it was just a matter of time before we found those weapons of mass destruction. Four years later, we can all see things a little more clearly, myself included.
But one thing I remember Lia saying was that this whole thing was based on oil. I wasn't blind and I admitted that sure oil could be a pretty big factor, but not the only reason we were over there. She gave me a book called "The Prize". I still have the book but I haven't picked it up yet.
Well, fast forward to now. As I started reading more and more about oil and the importance of it in American society, it hit me like a smack in the face. I have to thank Matt (Matteo Bello) who is currently serving in Iraq for giving me the book "The Party's Over" by Richard Heinberg. Truly a fascinating study into the subject.
So by the time Lia and Wez arrived, I was all ready to have deep, philosophical conversations about oil, religion, and all that fun stuff! And we did just that, and I even learned a little about Islam from them.
So they got here and we had lots of traveling to do! One thing we planned was to spend a few days in Salzburg, Austria and Munich, Germany. We even planned to go snowboarding for a day. But then on Dec 13 after we picked up the rental snowboards from the base outdoor rec center, the girl working there told Wez that we'd better get gas as soon as we could because of the strike.
Strike? What strike? Usually if there are any things like that going on we get messages at work or a bulletin on AFN. I hadn't seen or heard anything about a strike.But in fact there was a strike. The Italian truck drivers decided that they needed to escalate their struggle for increased wages. Because of this interruption in the supply chain, many gas stations were running out of gas. And not only gas; some stores and markets were running out of groceries, pharmacies were running out of medicine. And this was all over Italy. After only one day of the strike!
Makes you realize how much we rely on the trucking system.
Now here, I am going to go off on a tangent and explain to those of you who are not Americans serving here in Italy how the gas works over here. You might think this is a boring topic but I urge you to read it. It might make you think twice next time you guys in the states start to bitch about gas prices.
We can't buy gas on the base. We buy gas coupons from the exchange and we can redeem them for gas at certain local gas stations. Right now to purchase 100 liters of unleaded gas, it costs $99. So we'll call it $1 per liter. This price is about 50% higher than when I first got here in 2004, but whatever.
Now if you want to buy gas without the coupons you are free to do so. You just pay the same amount per liter like everyone else in Italy. The last price I saw today was 1.36 Euro per liter.
Ok so its time for a little math. If you haven't noticed, the US dollar isn't doing so great latley. Right now 1.36 Euro = 1.95 USD.Luckily the exchange rate between liters and gallons remains constant. There are .26 gallons in a liter. We can round that to 4 liters in a gallon.
So 4 liters x 1.95 dollars = $7.8.$7.80 per gallon is what Italians pay for gas. Let that sink in for a minute...By using our gas coupons which are about $1 per liter or $4 per gallon, we are effictively paying half of what the Italians pay. What will happen in the U.S. when gas prices hit $5 per gallon? I can already hear people bitching. I can already see the stories on the news. While most Americans are oblivious to the fact that we pay about half of what the rest of the world pays for gas.
Okay, back to the story. We drove to all the gas stations in the area - well only the ones that accept our coupons of course! Only a couple stations even had gas. Most of the others were shut down and had signs on their pumps saying they were out of gas. When we found the stations that did have gas, there were lines of dozens of cars waiting to fill up.
I had less than a quarter of a tank and we surely were not gonna start a road trip 5 hours into the Austrian Alps without certainty that there would be gas available on the way. So we decided to abort the Austria trip and focus on getting gas. This way we could do a little traveling while sticking closer to home.
After driving around for 30-45 minutes, all the time burning up the last of my gas, we found a place at the edge of Sacile. It was an Exxon station (Esso in Italian), part of the evil oil empire! But we decided the best thing would be to try to get gas in the car and then see where we could travel to without driving.
So I pulled my car into the line. There were about 20 cars ahead of us. Within 5 minutes there were at least 10 other cars behind us. My gas light had just come on. None of us knew if there would be any gas left by the time we got to the pump. This was gonna be interesting!
I decided to turn my engine off and push it. I figured if all these people were smart, they would do the same thing. Who knew how long this was gonna go on? As the line kept inching forward, Wez and I pushed my trusty Audi along. *********.. *********One of the gas staion attendants came up the line talking to all the drivers. When he got to me he told me not to worry, they had plenty of gas left. He asked if I was really out of gas, and I said no but almost. Other people were trying to cut other cars off. The old lady in the little Fiat in front of me got cut off by another old lady in a little Fiat. They yelled at each other in Italian. I couldn't understand most of it, but I could tell the cutter thought it was more important for her to get gas and now she was in front, so what are you gonna do about it?
A rich looking older Italian guy pulled to the very front of the line in a brand new Dodge SUV. He started talking to the attendants pleading with them to let him cut. He offered money to the attendants to let him bypass the entire line. It didn't work.There were two people that brought gas cans to the front of the line and were begging for just a couple liters of gas to take with them. The attendants would not allow it. They pointed at us and from the best I can gather, they were using us as a reason not to let anyone cut. "Look at these guys! They're pushing their car!" It was kind of funny I guess, but I had to respect their dedication. I think they knew that if they let one person cut, everyone would try to cut and then they might have chaos on thier hands.So we got our tank filled up. Yes I paid with my coupons. And we ended up driving 2 hours into Slovenia. It was a good trip. And when we came back I saw in the news that the Italian truck drivers had called a pause in the strike while they considered a new offer. A few days later, the strike was officially ended. And now all's well.
A question to all my American friends; what if this happened in the U.S.? I know this wasn't a real gas shortage. But it was a real world reminder of how much we depend on oil. We take it for granted. Even those of us who read the books, watch the documentaries, and try to do the little things to conserve energy. We all still take it for granted.
We got some laughs out of the whole thing. But it won't be funny when gas costs $10 a gallon, or $20, or $30! What will America be like when people have to treat their drving decisions like a major budgetary move? Sure you can drive to the mall if you want to, but can you afford it? It'll be a different world so enjoy it now while $4 per gallon is cheap!
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Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Read A Book!
So, after a nice little break from college classes, it's back to the books for me.
I enjoyed the time I had without any mandatory reading. I substituted all that with some recreational reading on topics that I find even more interesting than my college coursework. I ended up reading some things that have really changed my perspectives on life, society, and the world in general. I'd like to list a few of the most eye-opening books that I've read. I don't mean to push any of them on anyone, but if you ever find yourself asking, "why are things the way they are?" maybe one of these books will be for you:
1. The Third Chimpanzee - by Jared Diamond
2. Ishmael - by Daniel Quinn
3. The God Delusion - by Richard Dawkins
4. Guns, Germs, and Steel - by Jared Diamond
5. The Party's Over - by Richard Heinberg
P.S. Thanks to Pat, Anne, and Matt for passing some of these books on to me.
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Sunday, September 30, 2007
Crazy Times at Oktoberfest 2007When I thought I was going back to Korea, I thought that 2007 would be my last Oktoberfest. Apparently it won't be. But in any case it's always a good time. We always seem to go up there on the weekends when the crowds are at their rowdiest. This year, me and a couple friends decided we'd check it out during the week. Maybe it would be easier to get a seat, maybe it would be a little more mellow...Not so much.
We left around 730 and got into Munich around 1300. We found a place to park on a side street on the opposite side of town from the O-fest grounds. We got on the train and trekked over to the fairgrounds.
Even though it was a Thursday, all the tents were really crowded. There was nowhere to sit inside so we sat outside a tent and ordered a beer and some roasted chicken. We went back over to the Hoffbrau tent and pushed our way to the middle trying to find some cool people to hang out with. Of course we met some crazy Aussies and hung out with them for a long time. One of those guys was standing in front of me being very animated as he talked, waving his arms around. I thought, "Hmmm, I hope that guy doesn't knock my beer mug into my tooth as I'm drinking. It would suck to chip another tooth. I better be careful". And of course, not 10 minutes after that thought, that's exactly what happened. His elbow knocked my mug into one of my front teeth and I instantly felt something grainy and powdery in my mouth. I was even able to save a little tiny chunk of my tooth and I went over to J and Baro and said, "Dude look at this! I chipped my tooth again!!!!" Oh well, it wasn't too bad and you can't really even tell now.
Nothing else too crazy happened, just good beer and good times.I don't remember how it all started but J, Baro, and I decided we wanted to fight each other. So we went outside the fair grounds and started wrestling with each other in the grass, dirt, and dog crap. Cops and other people kept coming up to us trying to break us up. We kept on saying, "It's okay, we're American!", and they'd roll their eyes and walk off.
When we were done with that, (no one had any serious injuries) we got on the train and tried to find our car. For some reason, everyone else followed me but what they didn't know was that I had was in no condition to lead!
We ended up falling asleep on some random train and when it got to the end of the line we woke up and got kicked off. There were only a couple other people around and luckily they were really nice and tried to help us get to where we were trying to go. They ended up telling us the best thing to do would be to take a taxi. We got out of the taxi and saw a little cafe that was still open.
What happened next, I can't explain.
I know I was a little drunk, but even that doesn't quite explain it. There was a little step right in front of the cafe door. I stepped up on the step and I reached to open the door to the cafe. I guess I pulled on it extremely hard and it came back and smashed my hand against the concrete side wall. Then my foot slipped off the step and I fell right on my ass! I know I looked like a complete idiot. When I got up I saw that the ring on my pinky finger was smashed and my finger was all swollen. I couldn't take the ring off and so the waiter took me to the back and pulled out a pair of pliers. I put my finger into the pliers and he smashed my ring back into a more circular shape so I could take it off.
We finally made it back to the car and fell asleep. Probably the most uncomfortable sleep ever. I woke up around 7am with bumps and bruises, sore muscles and dirt and mud all over. All of us had mud - and who knows what else - all over our clothes. I had mud caked on the side of my head, dirt in my ears, eyes, nose, and under my nails. Every time I blew my nose, it was black. I tried to wash my hands several times but my hands were dirty the whole day. I won't even try to describe how we smelled.At some point in the evening, I must have misplaced my swashbuckler hat - the one I bought at Oktoberfest last year. I couldn't find it and honestly when I look at it now, it was a little goofy looking on me. So I replaced it with a new hat. I know it looks like a cowboy hat but it's NOT! It's Bavarian!
Thank goodness for Baro's wife, Lynn. She took care of all our stuff while we wrestled. She made sure none of our stuff got lost - except my hat but that was my fault. It was a very long, tiring, and smelly ride home. But the drive across the Alps is always rewarding, especially when the peaks are covered in snow! I feel a nice winter coming on soon!
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Scotland!
The News
It was kind of a last minute decision for me to go to Scotland with our good friends Aaron & Jess.
I decided to go when I still thought I would be leaving in September for Korea. I thought that the Scotland trip would be my last long trip of my tour in Italy. A lot has changed for me in the last few weeks. Now that the dust is starting to settle and I can see the next few years of my life a little more clearly, I know that there is a good possibility that I will have many more Eurotrips in my future.
The funny thing is that I found out about this change when I was standing with Aaron and Jess at the gate at the Milan airport. My cell phone rangand I missed the call because I was in the middle of a transaction at the airport bar. I called the number back and it was my Chief. He told me that I was selected for the year-long assignment to the middle-east that I had volunteered for. And that I would need to come in to work in the next few days to do paperwork. At this point a lot was still uncertain, but I did know that I would not be leaving Italy anytime real soon. And that after my one-year tour was finished, I would have the option to stay in Italy a little longer.
This news changed my whole perspective on this trip and the next few years of my life. It also gave me another reason to celebrate in Scotland!
The HighlandsAaron and Jess had tickets to the Rugby World Cup game on Sunday between Scotland and New Zealand. But not me, my plan was to climb the tallest mountain in the British Isles, the Ben Nevis.
We arrived at the Prestwick airport and trained it into downtown Glasgow. We got a real nice hotel right in the city center. We didn't realize that in the UK, things close down a little earlier than other parts of Europe. It was already past 11pm and most restaurants had already closed. Most bars and pubs close around midnight. Quite a change from Spain, Greece, and Amsterdam!
Oh yeah and the UK is about twice as expensive as anywhere else I've been in Europe.
The next morning our plan was to take this day-long tour of the Scottish Highlands. We rushed to the visitors center only to realize that we were an hour early because we hadn't set our watches back. After waiting for the center to open, we tried to sign up but they said it was too late to buy an advance ticket and we'd have to ask the driver if there was still room for us on the bus. We rushed outside and looked for the right bus/driver. I saw a guy standing outside a small bus talking on a cell phone wearing a kilt. I wonder if that's him... yeah, it was.
This guy was the coolest tour guide ever. He said there were three seats on the bus but he was waiting for three more people to show up who were running late. But if they didn't make it in 5 minutes, they would be out of luck and we could have the seats. Fair enough. As we waited we started talking to him and built up a little rapport. I really think he was hoping the other people didn't show up. The 5 minutes passed and we got on the bus.We spent the day seeing some incredible scenery in the Scottish Highlands. Loch Lomond, Ben Dolain, and Glen Coe. Our tour guide, Stewart added to the experience with lots of cool stories, and bagpipe music. The beauty of the highlands was breathtaking. The striking thing was how desolate it was. And I mean desolate in a good way. There were huge expanses of land with no farms, no houses, no villages or restaurants. The only manmade thing in sight was the road we were on. The skies were constantly changing from bright blue with puffy white clouds to gray and dreary and drizzling light rain. And then back to blue again within 10 minutes. It was like Stewart said - the mountains just seemed to pull the clouds down out of the sky.
We had a good dinner at a nice pub and then ended the evening a little early. A good thing because I had an early bus to catch in the morning.
Ben NevisSunday morning I got up ***an hour too early again - damn time change*** to catch the bus that would take me up to Fort William. Fort William is the town to start the climb up Ben Nevis - the tallest mountain in the UK. Only about 1300 meters high but treacherous because of the rapidly changing weather conditions - they say that it could be warm and sunny at the bottom but blizzard conditions up at the top. I did a lot of reading about this mountain before the trip and the thing I heard constantly was how dangerous the trail is - easy to lose in bad weather. And if you wander off the trail, you might end up in some pretty perilous spots - cliffs, gullys, and stuff like that. It was only supposed to be a 4-6 hour hike to the top but it was recommended to take lots of food with you in case you got lost and had to survive overnight. So I was a little nervous but after talking to a couple Scots who had climbed it before they said it really wasn't all that bad. My problem was that I was starting too late in the day. I wasn't going to have enough time to make it all the way to the top and back down again in time to catch the last bus to Edinburgh. So I decided to just go as far as I could and turn around at 1430 - (2:30pm for you civilian types). It was cloudy and cool when I started the climb. A long sleeve t-shirt was pretty much enough. The climb was moderaltey difficult but had a pretty good incline.
The temperature steadily dropped the higher I went. I saw some people coming down and they were bundled up pretty heavily. After about an hour and a half, I put on a couple more layers. After another 30 minutes the wind was blowing hard and it had started to rain. I could see the top of the mountain covered in clouds and I aimed to get at least to the cloud level before I turned around. As I approached it, the temperature must have dropped 10 or 20 degrees within just a few minutes. The wind was so strong it was knocking me off balance. The rain was coming down sideways and I needed all my layers just to stay warm and dry. This was as strong a wind as I have ever felt. The rocks were slippery and the cliffs were really close. This is when I could understand how dangerous this hike could be. You really don't want to do this hike without proper footwear and gear.
I looked at my watch and it was time to turn back. I had made it about 2/3 of the way to the top - a lot better than I thought I would do. I briefly considered pressing on and missing that bus. I'm sure I could find a place to stay in Fort William. But nah, I decided to turn back.
After a 4 hour bus ride down to Edinburgh I met up with Aaron and Jess who were nicely toasted from drinking at the rugby game. I tried in vain to catch up! It wasn't gonna happen. We hopped on a train that would take us to our B&B we were staying at in Crossford. Then we all fell asleep and woke up back in Glasgow! DOH!!! That turned out to be a 130 dollar mistake because that's how much a taxi cost to get us back to Crossford.
EdinburghMonday I woke up tired and little sore from the hike. But this was the day for us to see some sights in Edinburgh. We got into town and found a decent Mexican food place. You know I'm always down for some Mexican food! Edinburgh proved to be a great city with lots of stuff to do. We walked around, bought overpriced souvenirs, took pictures, and even went to the Scotch Whiskey Museum. Then we killed the rest of the night at a pub playing trivia, and laughing at our own "Your Mom" jokes. You just had to be there.
Tuesday was our day to fly home. But we had a few hours to spend before weleft so we went into the town called Dunfermline. For any of you who know your Scottish history or if your fans of Braveheart, you'll remember Robert the Bruce. Well he is buried in the abbey in Dunfermline. So we went and saw his tomb, and walked around this little town for a couple hours before we started our 12 hour trek of planes, trains, and automobiles back to Italy.
So we vowed to return to Scotland someday and walk the West Highland Way.The 5-7 day 95 mile path that goes from Glasgow to Fort William and goes along some of the most beautiful highland scenery in the highlands. We are aiming for April/May of 2009 when Aaron and I get back from the desert.
To conclude this long post, I must say that if it wasn't for the ridiculously expensive cost of living, and the dollar-pound exchange rate, Scotland would be a really cool place to live.
Translations:Some Translations:
Ben = Mountain
Glen = Valley
Loch = Lake
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Sunday, September 16, 2007
The PaintingThis story is long. And it might seem pointless. But if you have an extra few minutes and you take the time to read it, maybe it will give you a hint of why I love Italy and why I'll be sad to leave.
July 2006Susan, myself, and a couple friends drove down to Tuscany for a long weekend. We camped at a small campground in Siena and saw the famous Palio horserace. We also visited the ancient and picturesque hill towns of Volterra and San Gimignano. As you walk around the town of Volterra, you see many things. Old Roman ruins, brown stone houses with flowers pouring out of the window sills, medieval churches, and great little cafes and pizzerias. We saw many little art galleries and studios.
But there was one in particular that caught my eye. The paintings that hung on the walls were so bright and colorful. They were mostly oil on canvas and they were landscapes of Tuscany. Bright yellow sunflowers, light blue skies, cypress trees. Lots of artists paint scenes of Tuscany but there was something different about these paintings. The paintings didn't end at the frame. This artist paints onto the wood frame and it gives the impression of the scene exploding off the canvas and onto the frame.
I had never seen paintings like this before. The artist was there in the gallery when we walked in. She spoke very little English. Back then Susan and I were a little better with our Italian. We were able to communicate well enough to have a nice 20-30 minute conversation. She introdcuced herself as Vanna Spagnolo. She was a true artist. You could tell by what she was talking about. It's hard to describe but you could tell that this woman truly put her feelings and emotions into her work. As she talked about her paintings, she talked about movement, hapiness, and energy.We asked her if she had ever considered traveling to Aviano to sell her paintings. The base has two bazaars every year when artists and vendors come from all over Europe and sell their stuff to us Americans. Vanna said she was not interested in that. From what I could understand, she felt her work was about Tuscany. She lived in Tuscany and she belongs there. She felt her work being made and sold in Tuscany was more important than trying to make more money. Like I said - a true artist!I wanted to buy one of her paintings really bad. There were several that I particularly liked. I loved the ones with the sunflowers, green rolling hills, and bright blue skies since that is what Tuscany seems to always look like.
Unfortunatley, I hadn't budgeted on a purchase like this and so I wasn'table to buy one. Knowing that the chances were pretty slim that I would ever return here, I hoped that someday I would be able to come back down to this town, find her gallery again and buy one of her paintings.
April 2007My friends, Lee, Michelle, and Jenn came to visit from Dallas. I was planning our traveling and figured that a stop in Tuscany on the way down to the Amalfo Coast would work out perfect. I thought about making that stop in Volterra and trying to find the gallery again. But, in the end we decided that we would stop in Montepulciano instead since we had never been there before. So another chance passed...
July 2007Susan had just left for Africa. A friend and I decided to kill a weekend with a quick trip to somewhere. I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to go back down to Tuscany and buy a painting.
I started the trip planning and looked through the tourist maps, business cards, and souvenirs that I had picked up on our previous trips to Tuscany. I needed to try to remember how to get to Vanna's gallery. I found a bookmark that I had picked up at Vanna's place and it had an address to a gallery in San Gimignano on it. Vanna had two galleries, one in Volterra and one in San Gimignano. So I booked a hotel room in San Gimignano and the next day we were off.
The first place we went after checking into the hotel was the gallery. This gallery had the same types of paintings with the brightly painted landscapes extending out onto the frames and I remembered why I loved them so much. When we went in, another woman greeted us in Italian. Her name was Lorella. She was also extremely nice. She said she wasn't an artist herself but she was an art fan and a collector. We talked to her for at least a half-hour about all kinds of things; the Iraq war, being in the military, and life in Italy. Even though I went there with the specific purpose of buying a painting, I realized that even the small ones were still a little out of my budget. I debated with myself about just saying screw it and buying one anyway. But I decided against it.
But I did acknowledge that this place was only 4-5 hours away from where I live. A 4-5 hour drive is no big deal. There was really no reason why I couldn't come back again. We said our goodbyes to Lorella and went on our way. And yet another chance passed...
August 2007Another weekend was approaching and I had no real plans. I checked to see where Nikki's bus trip was going and lo and behold - Tuscany. This was gonna be it. I resolved myself to go down there again, which would quite probably be my last time to visit Tuscany, and buy a freakin painting!!!
Our first stop on the bus trip was Volterra. Since this was an overnight bus ride, we rolled into Volterra around 7am on Saturday morning - well before anything was open. The last time I was in Volterra it was bustling with tourists, but now it was quiet and empty. I was pretty tired because you don't really get much restful sleep on these overnight bus trips. I found Vanna's gallery but it was closed. There were no signs showing a schedule. I could see into the windows at the paintings I've been hunting for over a year. I found an open cafe and ordered an espresso. I walked around the town by myself, walked outside the city walls and into the outlying hills a little. Just trying to kill a little time, hoping that Vanna would show up and open her shop before it was time for us to jump on the bus and head to the next town.
Well that didn't happen. I gave up on my hopes of talking to Vanna again and figured I would just stop at the gallery in San Gimignano and buy the painting there. But as I walked back to the bus, the streets of Volterra had become more crowded as shops and stores started to open. I glanced back over my shoulder for no particular reason and I saw Vanna walking down the street! I'm sure she was going to open her shop. But I didn't have time to go buy a painting since that would be at least a 30-45 minute process. I thought about running over to say hello, but I am sure she wouldn't remember me since it had been over a year since we met her.
So I hopped on the bus and napped on our way to San Gimignano.When we arrived in SG, we were told that we only have a few hours. I remembered exactly where to go and I walked directly to the gallery. But when I got there it too was closed up! I started to walk away but then I saw Lorella approaching the door. I smiled at her and she looked like she almost remembered me but not quite. I took off my sunglasses and then the recognized me. I offered to leave while she gets everything opened up and settled but she invited me inside, pulled out a chair and asked if I wanted some coffee. She went to the bar next door and bought me another espresso. I don't really even drink Coffee but I was so tired. Lorella was so nice and welcoming. She sat down with me and we started talking about everything again. It was challenging because my Italian is not nearly as good as it should be, but we managed. We talked a lot about art, and again military life and stuff like that. I told her that Susan was now in Africa - and that one takes explaining even in English! She was really interested in finding out what life is like for us Americans living overseas.
I think we sat and chatted for at least 30 minutes. Finally I told her that this time I am buying a painting for real! She laughed and started showing them. She talked about every painting like she understood them completely. She placed them in different locations on the walls and under different lighting. I narrowed my choices down to three and she continued to compare them like she was going to make the purchase herself. I eventually decided on one.
I paid and said goodbye. I felt like I was saying goodbye to someone I had known for a long time. Even though I had only talked to her twice, she was so warm and friendly and caring. The Italian hospitality that we hear so much about but don't always experience for ourselves. She treated me like I was a lifelong friend, not just another customer.
She pulled out her cell phone and called Vanna who was in her gallery in Volterra. She told Vanna about me seeing her in the street earlier that morning and they laughed. I got on the phone and talked to Vanna for a few minutes. She thanked me for buying a painting and she said she thinks she remembers when Susan and I visited her shop over a year ago. I had spent over an hour in this shop. I was tired, hungry, and sweaty. I told Lorella I had to go eat lunch before the bus left. I think she thought the idea of speeding through these towns was a little crazy. I agree. Two hours is not nearly enough time to experience all the things a beautiful place like Volterra or San Gimignano has to offer.
I left and stopped at a little pizzeria. As I ate, I thought it was funny that I didn't have any buyer's remorse after spending money on a painting. I guess after a year of thinking about it, debating it, and almost buying it, it seemed like it was something I just needed to do.
The painting I bought was the one I noticed the last time I was there. A bright landcape of a villa on some green rolling hills with sunflowers in the foreground and bursting out onto the wood frame. And it now hangs in my kitchen and I see it every time I walk in the room.
Vanna's website:
http://www.colpadelvento.it/main_eng.htmlYou might be wondering why I took the time to write this story. I wrote it because to me it shows the true beauty of Italy. The painting reflects the care and love that Italians have for their land. The work and inspiration of it's creator shows that this art means something and it's not just a mass-produced decoration that thousands of people buy in souvenir shops. The warmth and openness of Vanna and Lorella show the true spirit of friendship and how nice it can feel to be considered a friend by an Italian. The process I went through in my head about buying the painting is something that I have never really gone through about art. Maybe a car but not art! I'm not a huge art fan, but this experiencewas very memorable for me. Thanks for taking the time to read it!
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Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Rambling on as the days fly by
It seems like the last three years here in Italy have flown past me. Now as I start actually making arrangements for my trip out of here, the reality continues to set in. This place that I've called home for the last three years has become just that, home.
Since Susan left for Djibouti, it hasn't been the same. I've dealt with a few things just in the last few weeks that I really haven't had to worry about for awhile. For some reason I let immature drama find its way back into my life. For a couple days there I really felt like I was back in junior high. Luckily that seems to be in the past now and I have good friends and a wonderful wife to thank for that. Boredom is something I hadn't felt in awhile. My job, studies, and traveling always kept me pretty busy. But there have been some times when I was sitting around thinking, hmmm if Susan was still here we could go take a walk!
Something you've already heard more about than you wanted (if you're a regular reader of my blog), the infectious diseases I had injected into me were a reminder to be appreciative of the good health I've been able to maintain.
And to top it off, I suffered an injury to my knee back in July. Diagnosed as Iliotibular Band Friction Syndrome, it has put me out of my running routine for several weeks. It's feeling much better now and I think I might be able to start running again in the next couple weeks. But this challenge, I can honestly say, might have been one of the most detrimental to me. I have always been a bit of a runner. I can't remember a time since I've been old enough to exercise when I haven't ran or jogged on at least a semi-regular basis.
I have realized how much I use my running time to think and sort out the thoughts in my head. Since I haven't been running I am constantly jittery and a little bit irritable. I watch other people running and I get jealous! I will never take my ability to run for granted again. Be thankful for your health and work hard to keep it!
This injury has strengthened my resolve. When I am all healed I'm gonna be running like a madman.
So lately home hasn't really felt like the home that I will remember. But even though the last few weeks since Susan left haven't been my best, I am still sad to be leaving this place. The last few weeks will not define my stay in Italy. What will I remember? I'll remember long days at work, meeting Susan at the gym, glancing at the snow-covered mountains to the north, complaining about work to each other, carrying so many duffle bags/backpacks up our staircase, coming home to cook a small dinner, playing with our kitty, and deciding which European country we wanted to visit next weekend.
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Sunday, August 19, 2007
Nasty Stuff
I knew this smallpox vaccine was gonna be nasty. I had seen it on other people who got it and I kinda knew what was gonna happen. But I have to say this stuff really had me freaked out for a little while there.About 3 days after I got the vaccine, I noticed the tingling and itchiness of the blister starting to form.
I was keeping a waterproof bandage on it so I could keep going to the gym and not worry about sweat dripping over it. But the main problem I was having was sleeping. I was so worried that the blister would pop while I was asleep and that I would get smallpox juice all over my sheets. Nasty!
Even though there was almost no chance of that happening cause I was doing everything right. I kept a bandage on it, I slept with a shirt on, I was washing my hands dozens and dozens of time every day. But for some reason I couldn't stop worrying that I would accidently do something wrong and spread it. Every time I would get any little itch anywhere on my body I would think, "Oh crap! Smallpox!"I had never really been so freaked out about anything like this before. How is this smallpox fucking with my head too?
So I started thinking that I was pretty much just being a little bitch. I tried to not think about it.
I'll spare you all the gross details of what this blister looks like. And the tedious process of caring for it while it runs its course. I'll only say that it is really not much fun.
Then on Thursday afternoon, I started feeling pretty bad. I had just came home from picking up a buddy from the airport. The blister had started to really hurt. My whole shoulder felt like it was on fire every time I moved it. My armpit felt like it was swollen. I started to get a headache and my shoulder, neck, and back muscles felt sore too. And I was sooooo tired.I looked at my shoulder and it was all red and swollen. I started reading the material they gave me at the clinic to see if this was normal. And apparently it was. Totally normal symptoms. "Stop being a little bitch!" I told myself. So I laid down and went to sleep. I fell asleep around 7pm and didn't wake up until about 9 or 10 the next morning. The first restful sleep I'd had for several days. And way more sleep than I normally get! Luckily I didn't have to work on Friday.
I felt better after that sleep. Most of those symptoms were gone. And I felt pretty much back to normal. So that was probably the peak of the discomfort of my immune system fighting the smallpox. Hopefully it's downhill from here. I still have this nasty little blister that looks like a little volcano on my shoulder. I can't imagine having full blown smallpox, it's gotta be miserable.
