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

What next?

Week 11

The new term is already off to fast start! I have a few new courses in addition to the Intro to Political Theory and Critical Thinking courses. I am now enrolled in a German course to help reiterate some lost grammatical concepts and boost my confidence in speaking this lovely language, as well as a high-level independent "Austrian Literature" German course. I get the opportunity to carefully observe the culture that I am now a part of as well as get answers to some of the "cultural phenomena" that have been in my head since I arrived. Both new courses are going great - each day I'm in complete awe at how much there still is to learn and know and see!

On Wednesday, April 1, there was a BBQ for Webster Vienna students and guess what? It was FREE! That's the first time that I've ever seen free food hangin' around in Vienna - it was almost a miracle. I also attended a "Interculturual Humo(u)r" event that was presented by the Austro-American Society. A few professors from Webster were taking part and I had a blast - some of the British jokes were absolutely hilarious!

A neat opportunity came my way this week. In the weekly bullentin sent to Webster students, there was a job offer from an Austrian company; they were needing "a Native English speaker with excellent German skills" to translate their website pages. I pounced on it right away, and lo and behold! the job was mine. So for the next week or so I'll have work up to my ears as I try and translate something known as the "Allgemeine Geschäftsbedingungen" aka Terms & Conditions, and the like. It's proving to be a tremendous challenge but a lot of fun.

I've really been trying to make an effort to see what's in Vienna. We come here and get so excited about seeing the rest of Europe that it's easy to forget just how much the city itself has to offer. This weekend I went to the famous Karlskirche and saw, with my own eyes, the glory of Mozart's "Requiem." I know the music by heart, but like many other works that I enjoy, had never seen it performed LIVE. It was absolutely AMAZING and I had a wonderful time.

I've also went to an area of the city called "Museumsquartier" and checked out some of the fantastic museums they've got there. Last weekend I dropped in for an hour or so at "Architekturzentrum" - an architectural museum covering the historical development of Vienna as well as other exhibits - and to "MOMOK" - a world famous building and museum of modern art. I also went to the enormous ferris wheel that is a precious part of Viennese history at Praterstern!

As my time in Vienna begins to wind to a close, I can't help but think, "Hmm there's gotta be a way to stay..." Truth be told, it would be such a bummer to go back home to St. Louis if there was something to go home too. This summer I would like to work (or rather, NEED to work) to save money, money, money. With last month's cuts to our transportation system practically wiping out a majority of bus routes and times, I am left with no other choice but to purchase a car and the expensive car insurance. Reverse culture shock is my #1 fear right now and I am at a loss as to what I will do. I'm keeping my eye out and digging for internship or job opportunities in Germany or Austria for the summer...!!

[Media: 1. slideshow of a few of the pictures I've taken since arriving in Vienna; 2. a model of Karlskirche with the actual structure]

America the INFLUENCE + Thoughts

Week 10

One of the things that living abroad has made known to me is the enormous influence that the United States exerts on the world. The strong American influence that is present is opening my eyes to just how much I don't know about my own country. It is making me aware of knowledge that I am lacking regarding our politics, culture, and metropolitan areas; moreover, it is making me think twice about the information that I call "knowledge."

We would be surprised if we could somehow visual see how fast verbal information is passed from one person to the next. I caught myself in the act the other day: a friend of mine in my German class told me how she tried a hand at studying Finnish and said that it is one of the hardest language to learn. It has 27 cases instead of prepositions. That afternoon in another one of my classes we somehow got into a deep conversation about linguistics. Someone brought up Finnish and I blurted, "Oh my goodness, that's such a hard language! C'mon - there's 27 cases. And some think German is hard ..."
Have I ever seen, let alone studied, the Finnish language in my life? I doubt it.
This is no extreme case, and happens more frequently with topics that interest us. America happens to belong to a topic that interests the world.

I am studying at an American university in Vienna where many of the students come from eastern European countries. The textbooks and other scholastic material are often from the U.S. There is a significant number of study abroad students each semester from the U.S., myself included. Conversations regarding politics and culture are far from minimal, and to be knowledgeable about one's country is a great responsibility and a necessity. It is not enough to have isolated but fervent opinions on this and that, to have a itty bit of information about one or two things, to know about the small things only. As I wrote a few weeks back, what people "know" about the U.S. will come from what we as American students have to say about it.

Topics such as consumer society, George W. Bush, educational system, the wars in the Middle East, social welfare, and public transport are commonly debated and heated issues. I've heard so many American students concentrate on one aspect of these topics that he or she agrees/disagrees with and suddenly apply it to the entire American society. Take for example a discussion on consumer society. You will hear, "Well, in America, there's so many shopping malls and everybody uses their credit cards and that's why we're in this financial crisis. Nobody saves their money anymore..." Such statements come from either a sense that other countries do not have such problems, a lack of knowledge, in this case, on economic trends, etc, a removal from the problems discussed, or all three.

Some things that I am becoming more and more aware of as I hear such conversations is: 1) opinions are not facts, 2) an acknowledgment that we don't know something is far better than sounding like we know it, 3) what we say will get passed on, so credibility is important, and 4) being critical of something does not necessarily indicate disagreement.

Other thoughts

The most pressing examples that have been on my mind for quite sometime, and which I promised to write more about are first, a great frustration and gripping sadness with the current state of affairs; and second, a search for the delicate balance between "imitation on the assumption that that is accepted" and still holding out "resistance to being 'the status quo'"

State of Affairs and the Status Quo

Each day is a challenge. I finally feel like I am becoming accustomed to living in Vienna, but there is also a certain despair that I feel when analyzing the current state of the world and my generation's response to it.

Something that my Spring Break trip pointed out to me was just how the same everybody is. I've never felt anything like it in my entire life, and I will attempt to explain it here.

The relationship between me and the world that I grew up in has always been "outside looking in." I grew up in a rather impoverished neighborhood in St. Louis, was not brought up by my parents, barely knew most of my brothers and sisters, was familiar with financial and emotional hardship, could scale a fence before I turned 11, considered fights a weekly event, lost family members in drive-by shootings, cringed at the smell of alcohol and marijuana, and had an imagination capable of seeing myself in college but incapable of seeing myself ever having what is commonly known as "the good life." In 2001 I moved to one of the nicer suburbs in St. Louis, where the majority of kids my age were from well-off and hardworking families, knew that they had 5 siblings instead of having to guess, got Christmas presents from family members instead of the Salvation Army, and saw college as an obligation rather than a choice. it was the most important event of my life, and also the most challenging.

Every day is a challenge...

The problem now is that the struggles that have molded me into who I am, that have given me a larger window of understanding, are no longer present. I began the slow and tedious attempt to leave the past behind; first, by seizing the opportunity to move off to another neighborhood, where as mentioned before, the hardship is barely visible. Then, through the 'integration process' more roots are dug up - I worked so that my speech would be transformed to the proper English that is spoken presumably by successful young men and women; I learned to silently battle my way through and stay at the top in academics, sports, arts, music as well as forge other talents through the most difficult means possible (teaching myself piano for 2 years in the absence of lessons, becoming almost fluent in a language that is not my own in less than 4 years, picking up the ancient art of calligraphy over the course of a summer, memorizing books of the Bible in a weeks' time); I began to shun ideas about mediocrity, thinking, "I don't have the room to be mediocre! I have to choose an extremely hard path in order for the path to be valid."

The question remains: why do it the hardest way when an easy way is readily available? My answer: the struggles that have shaped me are no longer present in my everyday surroundings. The only way I know how to succeed is by silently battling my way through, by struggle. So even if the path to success were to be cleared of all rubble, twigs, and stones, I would beg -

"Put boulders the size of SUV's in the way! Put thorns on every essential tree, hide lions and tigers and bears in the brush, and put the food that keeps me alive in their possession so that I will have to get through them first before the food is mine! Cover the heavens with clouds and midst and don't allow the sun to show until I have reached the clearing at the end of the path"

I write these things not to get a "Wow - look at her..." response from my world, but instead to evoke a self-confidence, a courage, and a determination that says "What the heck am I doing? Perhaps another less travelled path would be harder, and with it the risk of failure, but maybe I can give it a try..."