"I will never forget that in no other country on Earth is my story even possible. "

Week 16: This is the end ...

The infamous Week 16 finally arrived in all its glory. The Webster University music students held a semester's end concert, and it WAS FANTASTIC! From piano stars to operatic arias, the hall was filled with what I could have sworn was a call to heaven. It was a great time of reunion to see the students who came for 8-weeks. We enjoyed a lovely meal at a restaurant near Stadtpark and headed home full of Kaiserschmarr'n and drinks.
The packing process was rather surreal. I was able to fit all that I needed in my two suitcases and backpack, and what I couldn't take back or no longer needed I left for donation to Caritas, an organization that aids the homeless, unemployed, newcomers, and others. I didn't escape having to pay a hefty fine for Übergewicht (overweight luggage). As the lady in the airport remarked, "It was good while you had it!" And I didn't have it for long.

The U-Bahn stations in Vienna are often game for great exhibits, graffitti, and moving quotes calling for social change. One of the most interesting that I've seen was the exhibit near Karlsplatz. Bearing such titles as "the number of people dissatisfied with their jobs in Vienna since 1 January 2009" "the numbers of 'pi'" "number of malnurished children worldwide" and "couples in Vienna" one could not help but be moved to tears or amazement at the numbers.

I met this week with the owner of the health and wellness company whom I did translation work for in April. The job in and of itself was an enormous challenge that took concentration, knowlegde, and most of all, time. I was surprised when he said that it was remarkably done; he nearly had a heart attack when I told him that I liked German and thought it was much easier to learn than Spanish. Nur meine Meinung...

On Thursday Bright, Stephanie, and I ate at the acclaimed ice salon Tichy down at Reumannplatz. Talk about a highly sophisticated ice cream parlor and great treats. Now I see why everyone talks SO much about Tichy. Friday night, I had dinner and wine with my boyfriend and some friends of mine on Friday night. We lounged around at a friend's place and ate the best food the world has ever tasted! The night was also one of the saddest times I've endured - saying goodbye to my boy was the hardest, and knowing that it would be a long time before I get to give my friend her favorite "American hug" was heartbreaking. It took every cell of strength to keep the bawling under control until I got to the dorm. I barely made it.

Bright and early on Saturday morning, about 6 of us loaded ourselves and luggage into a taxi and headed off to the airport. The flight back to the US was long but flawless. When I got to St. Louis, I couldn't believe how BIG and WIDE everything was! The highway, the houses, the green lawns - everything grabbed my attention and left my jaw hanging to the ground. The way that I see the world is forever changed. Before leaving for this trip in January, I did not consider myself the "typical American" and would have told anyone that the American way of life - too much work, lots of initiative, fast food, expensive education - had little hold or influence on me. But as I return home, I realize how blessed I am to be where I am from and be going where I plan to go. I echo the words Obama said in a speech in March 2008: "I will never forget that in no other country on Earth is my story even possible."

Salzburg!

Week 15: Craziness

On Monday my roomie and I took the train to the famous city of Salzburg. It's a rather small city but teeming with tourists. We were able to purchase a SalzburgCard for only about 22 Euros, and amazingly enough it included the public transportation and free entry into the museums. We saw a fantastic fortress which overlooks the city, the Residenz, Mabelle Palace, a few classic "Sound of Music" spots, a church in the center of the city, trick fountains, and we spent about an hour in the breath-taking gardens near Mabelle Palace.

The remainder of the week was spent preparing for exams. I must admit, I haven't a clue how so many people can pull the all-nighters! Not my thing. I had three 16-week classes, so because full semester classes hold their exams during Week 15, three exams were waiting for me. Each exam went very well and I ended up pulling out As for each. On Thursday our German class took an "Ausflug" - field trip - to the Austrian parliament, where we got a tour and explanation of the building and politics. It was a rather fascinating experience, and as always, I was surprised at how much I understood. We settled down in a nearby Viennese cafe for lunch and interesting conversation.That's the way we Germans do it :)

Interkulturelle Bermerkungen

Die folgenden Texte sind für die, die Deutsch sprechen können. Ich übersetze alles bald ins englische. Dieses Semester belege ich eine Kurs, die heißt: Österreichische Kultur. Jede Woche hatten wir Artikeln über etwas interessantes oder wichtiges in Bezug auf Wien oder Österreich gelesen, eine kleine Erklärung des Wichtigstens, und ein paar Frage zur Diskussion. Wir hatten auch jeden Woche etwas interkulturelles oder anders in der Gesellschaft usw. bemerken und einen Aufsatz darüber zu schreiben. Hier habe ich Teile von ein paar Aufsätze zur Verfügung gestellt. Eines geht um ein Thema, das für mich mein ganzes Leben ein Hauptthema ist - Identität -, und eines um die Stadtentwicklung der Stadt Wien.

Identitätskrise in der Stadt Wien : 1.04.09

Seit langer Zeit leide ich an einer persönlichen Identitätskrise, die durch meine Erfahrungen in der Wiener Kultur nur verschlechtert wird. Natürlich gibt es Personen mit rassistischen Meinungen in den USA und überall, aber ich glaube, dass so ein Rassismus nicht so umfassend und gesellschaftsfähig wie in Wien ist. Es kann sein , dass Wien eine typische konservative Stadt ist. Die Gründe, warum Bürger Angst von und Frustration über den Asylmissbrauch und Kriminalität von Ausländern sind zahlreich. Während schweren Zeiten, insbesondere jetzt mit der Finanzkrise, gibt es verstärkt nationale Tendenz und die Suche nach den Quellen und einem Auswege oder Lösung des Problems. Das verstehe ich wohl – aber was ich nicht für vorstellbar halten kann: Wie bleibt die Stadt Wien eine der interkulturellen u. internationalen Städte Europas? War für eine Einstellung habe die meisten Wiener den internationalen Status ihrer Heimat betreffend? Wenn Ausländer Studenten, Arbeiter, Geschäftsleute, usw. ihre Erfahrungen mit den Bürgen austauschen würden, würden die Bürger vielleicht zuhören und versuchen, eine andere Botschaft an die Welt zu senden?

Ende Januar habe ich eine Amerikanerin zufällig in der Straßenbahn getroffen. (Sie ist Fulbright-Lehrerin in einem Gymnasium in Wien) Das Wetter war schlecht und kalt, und sie ist schnell zur Straßenbahn gelaufen, und ich habe den Knopf für sie gedrückt. Sie war sehr bedankbar, und später, als wir uns einmal im Cafe getroffen haben, hat sie behauptet: „Wenn du eine Wienerin wäre, wäre das eine große Überraschung, die Türe geöffnet zu bekommen“ d.h. in einfachen Worten: „Niemand würde den Knopf drücken, sie würden einfach dastehen und nichts machen.“

Natürlich gilt so eine Vorrausetzung nicht, aber leider sagt sie viel über das Gefühl, das uns auffällig kommt.

Ich habe kürzlich erkannt, dass ich einen zusätzlichen Vorteil als Afroamerikanerin in Wien habe: ich kann eine vollständige Beobachtung und Eindrücken der Stadt machen.

o Ich habe gehört, dass Schwarzafrikaner als Drogenhändler angesehen werden.

- Ich habe auch echte Überraschung bei Bürgen erlebt, als sie Folgendes herausgefunden haben

o ich kann fast einwandfrei Deutsch sprechen,

o ich komme aus den USA aber weiß viel über/habe ein starkes Interesse an Europa.

o ich möchte eine sehr hohe Schulausbildung bekommen – Stadtentwicklung, Architektur inb. umweltfreundliche Bautechnik, usw.)

o ich versuche, nett, sympathisch, u. hilfsbereit zu sein (ich grüße kleine Kinder in der Straße/halte die Türen offen, wenn eine Person mit schweren Sachen oder einen Kinderwagen durchgeht. Ich schlage meinen Freunden vor, dass sie nicht so viel Lärm in Öffentlichkeit machen sollen)

Es ist eine Vorteil, wiel ich das Elend der Ausländer und die kulturelle Verzweiflung der Minderheiten fühlen und verstehen kann; dabei sind die Vorurteile gegen Amerikaner nicht so stark, also kann ich täglich kleine kulturelle Prüfungen machen und die Reaktionen den Leuten beobachten, wenn ich XYZ mache oder nicht, damit ich irgendeine Veränderung herbeiführen kann.

Bezirke und Nachbarschaften : 15.04.09

„Der einzige Unterschied zwischen Deutschland und Österreich ist die Sprache.“ Dieses Zitat habe ich in vielen Variationen gehört, aber ich finde es interessant, dass die Deutschen und Österreicher sich gegenseitig wegen ähnlicher Sachen anklagen: Arroganz, Dialekte, und Politik sind oft unter der Lupe.

Ich muss aber den Wienern für ihre sinnvolle und einzigartige Stadtentwicklung Anerkennung zollen. Niemals habe ich von einer Stadt mit so vielen verschiedenen Bezirken gehört.

Natürlich gibt es diese Nachbarschaft und jenes Viertel, aber dass sie eine bestimmte „Kultur“ und Lebensstil schaffen – das ist etwas Neues.

In St. Louis können fast jede Viertel ihre Zeit haben; ob sie ´gut´ oder ´schlecht´ sind hängt immer von den Leuten ab, die ihren Wohnort dort haben. Wenn viele Personen wegen eines bestimmten Problems wegziehen, ist „die Zeit sozusagen vorbei.“ So ein Prozess dauert etwas 10 bis 20 Jahre, es geht um den Anstieg der Lebensqualität oder den Untergang eines Lebensstils. Als ich ein Kind war, wohnte ich in ein ziemlich schlechtes und gefährliches Viertel in der Nähe des Stadtzentrums, das sogenannte Normandy oder North Country Viertel. Ich zog mit 12 Jahre nach Kirkwood um, mit der Hilfe eines Stipendiums. Man sah mich überraschend aus, wenn sie wusste, aus welchem Viertel ich kam und in welchem Viertel ich meine Ausbildung abschloss und wo genau ich die Universität besuchte. Wo man wohnt sagt viel über dem Status der Familie und des Bildungssystems. In welchen Wiener Bezirken hat dieser Prozess schon stattgefunden. Woher kommt die spezifische Kultur in jedem Bezirk?

The World Goes On

Week 14: A Beacon of Hope
This post I want to use as a tribute to my great-aunt Francis, who passed this week. It was not entirely shocking news, as she had been in the hospital for the last month or so, but I was really looking forward to seeing her upon my return to the U.S.
My great-aunt brought me home from the hospital at three days old, when she was already approaching her sixties. She did better in raising me that she knew and certainly did very good for the independent woman she was. Everywhere she and I were together, she constantly bragged on my scholastic achievements, how she hoped I "would be discovered" someday. The compliments were sometimes embarassing, you know, to be the center of attention. If I could blush, I would have looked like a beet every time a compliment came! Being the center of attention brings with it a host of expectations and responsibilities, which I somehow managed to uphold. When I was twelve and presented with an opportunity to go to a school and neighborhood far from home, she willingly helped me and stood by me; she knew I'd always want to go to college and that seizing the chance to study at a decent school and have the appropriate atmosphere to succeed was the only way.
This week was the hardest week by far. Being 5000 miles away and therefore almost powerless to help or aid (or be helped or aided) is a feeling of desparation. It's always good to take the appropriate time to grieve, but the challenge remains: the world keeps turning and it's mighty hard to keep up when you legs have been knocked out from under you.
But during her lifetime, things were not always rosy and, growing up during the Depression, there was a call for strength, resilience, and the ability to hope for better days.
My life then, if I can pull it off, shall be a tribute to her.

[Picture: my great-aunt and I last summer]

Vienna: Home Sweet Home?

Week 13 - Home Sweet Home?

After I got back from a wonderful weekend in Steiermark, I celebrated Easter at the International Baptist Church of Vienna. It was an absolutely fantastic and very joyful time - Bright had a main character in the drama that they produced - and afterwards we went together to the enormous Easter Market at Schoenbrunn Palace. This place was absolutely amazing! The Easter Market last from Ash Wednesday until Easter Sunday, with several types of products on display. Glass and marble eggs, traditonal Austrian foods, hand-carved wood pieces, and thousands of hand-painted eggshells. I was absolutely obsessed with just about everything and spent a good amount on souvenoirs. It was all definitely worth it in the long run.

This week passed by relatively quickly, partly because the semster started to wind down and also because I was preparing for a friend of mine, Lauren, to visit! She is spending 8 weeks at Webster Univerity's campus in Geneva, Switzerland and had to stop by Vienna! So on Friday night I went to pick her up at Westbahnhof, welcomed her with open arms, and immediately the philosophical conversations began. We roomed together last semester, and would always stay up the wee hours talking about history, philosophy, and (of course, my favorite topic) changing the world, and this time was no exception.

The next two days we forced our eyes open and bounded out to see what awaited us anew in this city. We walked, and walked, and rode the Straßen- and U-Bahn, and umm did I mention walking? We met up with another friend of ours and bummed around the city together - checking out some fantastic museums, a few churches, ate icecream, and just simply enjoyed the gorgeous weather God provided for us during that weekend. I was quizzed on German knowledge and Austrian politics, while I drilled them on music history and totalist societies.
Several times I said, "Welcome to my little city!" It's amazing, how the challenges of adjusting to this new city as a foreigner still remain yet because of living here it feels like home. The exhilarating feeling of returning home from a trip to the dorm is unbelievable strong; "Finally I'm home" I say after a long day. And yet, I feel detached from and attached to the city.

As the time to return home slowly approached, I realize a few things. Normally "time flies when you're havin' fun." I've noticed that this semester has passed at the appropriate time - not too fast, not too slow. I remember distinctly what happened each month that I've been here. I've also realized what a privilege it is to be from the US, especially now with the Obama administration. A few weeks ago I was intent on staying for the summer here in Europe, but am now feeling the strings tugging me towards home. Not out of homesickness, but out of fatigue. It's been quite a long time since I've acted my age and felt 19. Every moment almost since the beginning of high school has been used in an attempt to forge the future, seize this job opportunity or apply for this scholarship, settle on this career choice and gain that important professional experience. The struggle to become an agent of change is a physically and mentally exhausting process that requires endurance in motivation, development, and character. As I've set eyes on the jewels of freedom here in Europe, I'm understanding more and more this simple fact: I miss doing the things that folks my age should be doing. I miss writing music and practicing a Beethoven piece for four hours. I miss reading books, a renewed passion from my extra freetime in Europe. I miss giggling with friends about this and that cute boy at school. I want to memorize more books of the Bible and present them at church as I did a few summers ago; I want to give some of my time to helping the community around me by volunteering. By no means do I want to be unproductive or retreat back to trivial things. But right now, the weight of the world is too much to bear, especially because I am not yet in the position to change it on a large scale. So what now then? Change my life to be more free, so that that freedom can help change someone else's life.

[Photos: 1. only a small part of the hand-painted eggshells at the Ostermarkt; 2. lauren and Maddy enjoying a typical Viennese cafe; 3. an elaborate fence near Hofburg]

Home and Identity

Week 12 - Easter Week

This week I actually had something pretty BIG to look forward to: a trip to Styria (a bordering state to Vienna) with a friend of mine, Manuela, who lives there. So after somehow enduring a rather hectic week of classes and finding a decently priced suitcase [the one from Spring Break has surely seen better days], I hopped on the train to Graz.
It's only a two-hour train ride, but what is a train ride without a delay? So we got there in two hours AND thirty minutes - but it didn't matter because a wonderful experience awaited me.
Manuela's grandparents live about 10 to 15 minutes outside of the city in a lovely townhouse. A soon as I was inside, the food began to flow from the kitchen, along with the gorgeous and very interesting "steierisch" German.
On Friday, Manuela and I practically hiked around Graz. All that yummy Easter bread that we had eaten that morning served us well. We saw numerous museums - including the architecturally-intriguing Kunsthaus - and exhibitions, intricate fassades, an outdoor crafts market, ate carmalized nuts, and climbed up the mountain to the Schlossberg. The weather was amazing, and I can already tell that Austria is going to be backing come June and July. When we got back back at around 21.oo that evening, more food awaited us - fried fish and Austrian potato salad and the lovely Easter bread! My German always improves as the day goes on - in the morning my English is lovely, but by 21.oo my English decided to go on vacation and left me understanding Steierisch and speaking Hochdeutsch. Now that's a cool German class!
Saturday, we woke up and repeated our ritual - only in a more relaxing fashion. Manuela's grandpa had taken the meat down to the church to receive the priest's Easter blessing, so by the time we stumbled downstairs it was ready. Easter eggs and other goodies were there too. They stuffed me to the point that I was thankful I could loosen my belt, and we started off our day satisfied. We peeked into a few stores that were open, got ice cream cones to bring back the "good ol' days," and of course, dabbled in Denglish about this and that and school and changing the world, so to speak. We had a BLAST! We mostly took the public transportion around the city because we were wiped out from the previous day's activities. I was sad to leave; their hospitality and generosity was unwavering, genuine, and wholesome.

During the course of the weekend, I heard quite a few references to "home," and being the Easter weekend that it was, to "family." These ideas really made me think, made me feel the weight of not having a "home" - whether that is a building or a place or a group, "home" retains its emotional nature. What is it like to work your whole life and then, after retirement, tend to your house and make crafts and hold gatherings? What kind of pride do you feel when someone says, "Wow you've got a great city!" or asks, "Can we have it at your place? That's a good-looking yard back there!"?

Moreover, what is it like to work your whole life, then lose everything and have nothing to show for the fruit of your labor, the work of your hands?

What does the pain and humiliation of living in this part of town or this area of the city and having people whisper, "Gosh, that place sure is bad; you couldn't pay me to live in that neighborhood" feel like?

What is it like to remember seeing bums sleeping under the bridge as a kid and thinking to yourself, "I'm gonna grow up and get a good job and maybe I can help some of those folks" - only to realize that life cut you short and you'll be making your bed under the same damned bridge tonight?

I can't imagine that - but I've seen it enough times with my own eyes, in my own neighborhood, and encourage you to think about it every now and then. About both the pride and the humiliation. Times like these, when our world is rapidly being molded and shaped anew, blaming soandso for this-and-that problem is not the answer, but neither is showing an indifference. We cannot underestimate the power of thinking about the world around us. Too often do we believe "thinking about it won't do any good; it just makes me depressed." We can think about something without changing it, but we can't change something without thinking about it. Why? Thinking about it and trying to figure out "What's all this fuss about?" produces the change within first, and that's the most passionate way to make something a reality.


[Photos: 1. Manuela & I at a fountain in Graz; 2. view of Graz from Schlossberg, with Kunsthaus dominating the sea of red roofs; 3. a compass, artist's exhibition - Wolfgang Buchner]

Best of Austria 2009