Helloooooooo, I am still here, just in case anyone was worried... And... drumroll please... I'm coming home!!! ok, so not yet, but I have a ticket now, so I'm definitely coming. I should be back in Colorado at 10:37pm on jul 1st!
This post should be monstrous, so I'll have to leave out lots.
I have been taking advantage of the nice spring weather and the facility of travel in Europe, and I haven't been in Zagreb for even two weeks at a time since early march!
After Budapest, I headed to Istria (the peninsula at the northern tip of the Adriatic) where I saw picturesque medieval cities perched on hills, Tito's weekend home among a smattering of islands, and of course, the sea.
Next stop: Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia, for a tango festival. Though they didn't boast a large number of dancers, the organizers were particularly proud of the number of countries represented, and sure enough, I heard tons different languages bouncing around all weekend.
The week after found me aboard a night train on my way to visit Anna, a friend from Boulder who is on exchange in Rome. Along the way (a long one, if you hadn't guessed) I got a taste of Venice, Siena and Bologna, though in the couple of hours I spent exploring each of these places, I couldn't really do them justice. I know I'll be back, though.
Rome was an amazing city to visit-- there was just so much to see. I couldn't believe how many churches there were-- churches that could be centerpieces in smaller cities, but in Rome, hardly got a second glance. Many weren't even open. It was interesting to get to actually see so many things that I've learned about over the years: the Pantheon, the Coliseum, the Forum... Rome is a city steeped in so much history. It must make a difference when the teach it in school. It all becomes so much more real when I can think that I could be walking where Caesar walked, standing in the room in which Cesaro debated.
Then, less than 48 hours after I returned, I was off yet again, this time to Dubrovnik with the Rotary. Dubrovnik is probably the best-known destination in Croatia, and often referred to as the pearl of their beautiful Adriatic coast. The city really is lovely. It almost seems like a living museum-- unchanged since the middle ages except for the sparkling clean-ness and the souvenirs hanging in the windows. My favorite part was walking around the top of the city walls and admiring the jumble of red tiled roofs and the deep blue sea.
Finally, last weekend, my host family took me to Eastern Croatia, where I saw a marshland national park and Vukovar, my host father's hometown and one of the most famous for the atrocities committed there during the war. I don't have time or energy now to describe much, but I will say that it was striking to see this sleepy beautiful, peaceful town on the banks of the Danube, and imagine tanks rolling down the streets and bombs dropping on the houses. Though the war ended almost a decade ago, the damage is far from repaired; houses are missing windows, walls roofs--only the thick vegetation filling the abandoned buildings tells of the passage of so much time. Obviously, the people are affected as well. Unlike before the war, the Serbs and Croats go to different schools. My host dad says more than half his friends were Serbs, but now the children don't even know each other.
While not on the go, I have been fully appreciating the sun, the flowers, and the relaxed lifestyle here. I'm really going to miss that!
Monday, May 19, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Budapest, Easter, life...
It was wet, rainy, even a bit snowy, and rather miserable on and off for a couple weeks, but whenever the sun comes out, I am utterly in awe of what a beautiful city I live in. The gorgeous old buildings are now framed with a rainbow of flowers in the parks and on the trees. Even though I've been here for seven months now and walk through the center almost every day, I still find myself stopping to take pictures.
I celebrated Easter with my host family. We dyed about a thousand eggs, and they thought it was funny when I tried to dip them in multiple colors of draw designs on them. I didn't do a very good job, as my draying utensil was a scrap of paper folded into a point, but I had to try. All of you know how I'm incapable of doing things how everyone else does... The Croatian custom is to bring an egg whenever you pay anyone a visit around Easter, so I saw that I wasn't the only one to try to make designs on my eggs. Someone made a really cool Indian-looking pattern using wax.
Shortly after, I left on a spontaneous trip to Budapest. We got the idea less than two weeks before we left, and the day before, we were still iffy on some minor details like who was coming and where we were going to stay, but it all came through.
We took the "brzi" train, which took a good 7 1/2 hours to traverse what should have taken about 3. Brzi means fast, so either it's someone's idea of a joke, or it's brzi because it only stops in every 3rd village.
Upon arrival, I was immediately awed by the city. I think it's one of the most beautiful cities I've seen; it certainly has the most beautiful architecture. Zagreb's ornate facades look plain in comparison. I missed, however, the lounging atmosphere of Zagreb. It seemed much busier and noisier, and lacked Zagreb's plentiful parks and cafes, where people linger to talk, watch people pass and enjoy the day. I loved walking along the Danube at night and watching the reflections of buildings ripple in the water, but the cars whizzing past spoiled the tranquility.
We met up with some Brazilian exchange students who showed us around the city. It was nice to not have to worry about where we were going and how we would get back, and they told us about life in Hungary. Croatian may be difficult, but after hearing Hungarian, I feel quite lucky. They have to learn 20 cases, as opposed to our seven, and I can't even get my mouth around many of their words. Ironically enough, the word for "hi" sounds like "see ya", and "hello" means "bye".
I celebrated Easter with my host family. We dyed about a thousand eggs, and they thought it was funny when I tried to dip them in multiple colors of draw designs on them. I didn't do a very good job, as my draying utensil was a scrap of paper folded into a point, but I had to try. All of you know how I'm incapable of doing things how everyone else does... The Croatian custom is to bring an egg whenever you pay anyone a visit around Easter, so I saw that I wasn't the only one to try to make designs on my eggs. Someone made a really cool Indian-looking pattern using wax.
Shortly after, I left on a spontaneous trip to Budapest. We got the idea less than two weeks before we left, and the day before, we were still iffy on some minor details like who was coming and where we were going to stay, but it all came through.
We took the "brzi" train, which took a good 7 1/2 hours to traverse what should have taken about 3. Brzi means fast, so either it's someone's idea of a joke, or it's brzi because it only stops in every 3rd village.
Upon arrival, I was immediately awed by the city. I think it's one of the most beautiful cities I've seen; it certainly has the most beautiful architecture. Zagreb's ornate facades look plain in comparison. I missed, however, the lounging atmosphere of Zagreb. It seemed much busier and noisier, and lacked Zagreb's plentiful parks and cafes, where people linger to talk, watch people pass and enjoy the day. I loved walking along the Danube at night and watching the reflections of buildings ripple in the water, but the cars whizzing past spoiled the tranquility.
We met up with some Brazilian exchange students who showed us around the city. It was nice to not have to worry about where we were going and how we would get back, and they told us about life in Hungary. Croatian may be difficult, but after hearing Hungarian, I feel quite lucky. They have to learn 20 cases, as opposed to our seven, and I can't even get my mouth around many of their words. Ironically enough, the word for "hi" sounds like "see ya", and "hello" means "bye".
Monday, March 17, 2008
still plodding along
I'm not sure I'm actually making any headway on the gap between what has happened and what I've written about, but at least I'm trying... and I finally posted some pics from Turkey, so check them out.
I went skiing again, this time for a weekend in Austria. The skiing itself wasn't remarkable--though it might have been with fresh snow--but the sceneray was. Coming from CO, I am not unaccostomed to impressive views, but in Bad Gastein, there wasn't just one or two snowy peaks to be admired from a vantage point at the top--we were completely surrounded by spectacular panoramas. Pretty much every place I stopped to look around warranted a "slika break".
I am still in awe of the fact that I was able to hop on a train in the morning in Zagreb, and and be in Austria by lunchtime. The train brought us practically to the doorstep of our hostel, which was a five minute walk from the ski lift. The hostel was really clean and nice and it was fun to meet people from all over. There was a strong international flavor to the whole town. Just walking down the street or riding up a ski lift, I could hear about five different languages. I was able to ride up a lift in one town, ski through another, and end my day in a third. Most of the mountain was above treeline, so as someone put it, the groomed trails were more like sugestions, though the spring conditions made them strong sugestions, as I do not care for heavy untracked crud.
I went skiing again, this time for a weekend in Austria. The skiing itself wasn't remarkable--though it might have been with fresh snow--but the sceneray was. Coming from CO, I am not unaccostomed to impressive views, but in Bad Gastein, there wasn't just one or two snowy peaks to be admired from a vantage point at the top--we were completely surrounded by spectacular panoramas. Pretty much every place I stopped to look around warranted a "slika break".
I am still in awe of the fact that I was able to hop on a train in the morning in Zagreb, and and be in Austria by lunchtime. The train brought us practically to the doorstep of our hostel, which was a five minute walk from the ski lift. The hostel was really clean and nice and it was fun to meet people from all over. There was a strong international flavor to the whole town. Just walking down the street or riding up a ski lift, I could hear about five different languages. I was able to ride up a lift in one town, ski through another, and end my day in a third. Most of the mountain was above treeline, so as someone put it, the groomed trails were more like sugestions, though the spring conditions made them strong sugestions, as I do not care for heavy untracked crud.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
more catching up
I finally went skiing! Though it only partially qualifies, as there were a whole two runs, only one of which I actually skied. It was covered with world cup ice, and my skis were so dull that I fell multiple times when I wasn't even skiing. However, my real prupose was to interview a local junior team for an article, so it was interesting to tag along at their training and meet the kids, and it was nice just to be out again.
I also went to the world cup race that was hosted on the local mountain. We got there at 8, when the temperature hovered just above zero (It sounds way more impressive in celcius: -17) to hike down from the top and stake out our spot on the racecouse. By the time the race started, we had been standing there for more than an hour. My feet were fully numb, and Bruna and Hannah were on the ground huddled under a Brazilian flag claiming they couldn't moove their legs. Skiing is not a great spectator sport, but the Croatian fans were worth watching. They came in droves, decked out in red and white checker patterns and carrying flags, horns, whistles, clappers, and all other manor of noise making apparatus. They were united in their support for any Croratian, but particularly Ivica Kostelic. Whenever his name was even mentioned, the hillside erupted, and the rest of whatever the announcer had to say was drowned out in whistles and screams.
And there was no leaving early in the second run. The wild crowd watched expectantly until the penultimate run, when their favorite came down the course to take the lead. Horns blew, balloons flew and everyone chanted “Ivo, Ivo!” When the final racer came up ahead at the timer midway down the course, the entire hill went dead silent as everyone waited in suspense to see if Kostelic would keep his lead. He wouldn't, but a silver medal was cause enough for celebration, and the party was still raging when the sun was starting to sink and we decided to head home before we froze.
I also went to the world cup race that was hosted on the local mountain. We got there at 8, when the temperature hovered just above zero (It sounds way more impressive in celcius: -17) to hike down from the top and stake out our spot on the racecouse. By the time the race started, we had been standing there for more than an hour. My feet were fully numb, and Bruna and Hannah were on the ground huddled under a Brazilian flag claiming they couldn't moove their legs. Skiing is not a great spectator sport, but the Croatian fans were worth watching. They came in droves, decked out in red and white checker patterns and carrying flags, horns, whistles, clappers, and all other manor of noise making apparatus. They were united in their support for any Croratian, but particularly Ivica Kostelic. Whenever his name was even mentioned, the hillside erupted, and the rest of whatever the announcer had to say was drowned out in whistles and screams.
And there was no leaving early in the second run. The wild crowd watched expectantly until the penultimate run, when their favorite came down the course to take the lead. Horns blew, balloons flew and everyone chanted “Ivo, Ivo!” When the final racer came up ahead at the timer midway down the course, the entire hill went dead silent as everyone waited in suspense to see if Kostelic would keep his lead. He wouldn't, but a silver medal was cause enough for celebration, and the party was still raging when the sun was starting to sink and we decided to head home before we froze.
Friday, February 22, 2008
More stuff
Spring seems to have arrived in Zagreb, bringing flowers out of the ground and people out of their houses. Walking to school, I see children playing in the many parks among the appartment buildings, and the old men back out on their boci ball courts. It really is ubsurdly warm for february--I can go out in a teeshirt during the day--though I have been a bit ambitious and end up shivering when the sun goes down.
To continue my update, I switched host families a while back, but it wasn't terribly climactic. I swiched families with one of the other exchange students, so I already knew the family, and they're great. My host mom, Janet, is British, and is constantly introducing me to people from all over the world. Everyone speaks English, so I have gotten a tad bit lazy about my Croatian, but it's still coming, and I almost always speak to my host father, Tomislav, in Croatian. I have three host siblings: Beka (9), Sara (13) and Adam (15), plus another one in Brazil, who I will hopefully get to meet before I leave. My house is much noisier, fuller and there are always people around. I love the company. Unfortunately, that, plus the fact that we are way on the edge of town and it is quite a haul to go anywhere means that I have developed a tendancy to opt out of leaving the house.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
and so I resurface from the depths of writers block...or laziness
Alright, alright, I'm back...in case I have any diehard readers that were missing me.
I haven't felt like writing lately, so I haven't (novel concept, huh?) but quite a bit has happened.
Christmas was nice in Zagreb. It was quite a Christmas-y place--snow, the center of town all light up, Christmas markets in the squares, giant Christmas trees everywhere... (I couldn't get over the one in my school)
Though most Croatians are Catholic, not Orthodox, the tradition is to get the Christmas tree on Christmas eve. I think it's partly a space issue, since most people live in small apartments. We had a fake tree and brought it out on the Saturday before Christmas. Most people spend Christmas eve with their families. I was told that lots of people go out after midnight mass, but it was cold and snowy, so that was not on my agenda.
I went to Turkey with my host family and two other exchange students. Turkey was one of the places that I had in the back of my mind as "That would be cool, but unlikely" so I was really excited to actually be going.
First and foremost: I found the sun! I had missed it so much. I've been spoiled growing up in Colorado, where the sun rarely stays hidden for more than a few days. I noticed I felt a sense of entitlement, and was taking the endless string of grey days as a personal insult. I'm more appreciative now; after going more than a month without sun in Zagreb, I was so glad to be able to sit outside.
We went to Antalya, which is more or less in the middle of the southern coast. The region is dominated by rugged mountains rising right out of the sea. The contrast is impressive. Sitting on the beach, surrounded by palm trees, orange groves and perfect turquoise water, I could look up and see the snowy windblown tops of massive mountains.
We saw tons of ancient Greek and Roman ruins. They were so plentiful, in fact, that people didn't feel obligated to build a museum around every one. I saw them sitting in hotel courtyards, peeking out from between buildings, even partially paved over by roads.
It wasn't as different as I expected, but that could be partly due to the fact that, as far as I could tell, we were in the Cancun of Turkey. Still, there were plenty of novel things, the most vivid for me being my visit to the city of Antalya.
Never before had I felt so conspicuously out of place. Bruna, Kelsey and I went to Antalya one day on the public bus, and we were not prepared for the size of the city, or for the fact that the bus we caught at the hotel wouldn't take us to the center, but would instead drop us in a parking lot somewhere on the outskirts of the city. From the moment I stepped onto the rickety little city bus, I knew there was no chance of passing for someone who belonged. The bus was filled past capacity and sagging in the back with the weight of the passengers-almost entirely Turkish men-who filled the five long benches, as well and the narrow aisle, ducking to avoid banging their heads of the ceiling, and as we climbed aboard, they stopped their chatter and stared.
I haven't felt like writing lately, so I haven't (novel concept, huh?) but quite a bit has happened.
Christmas was nice in Zagreb. It was quite a Christmas-y place--snow, the center of town all light up, Christmas markets in the squares, giant Christmas trees everywhere... (I couldn't get over the one in my school)
Though most Croatians are Catholic, not Orthodox, the tradition is to get the Christmas tree on Christmas eve. I think it's partly a space issue, since most people live in small apartments. We had a fake tree and brought it out on the Saturday before Christmas. Most people spend Christmas eve with their families. I was told that lots of people go out after midnight mass, but it was cold and snowy, so that was not on my agenda.
I went to Turkey with my host family and two other exchange students. Turkey was one of the places that I had in the back of my mind as "That would be cool, but unlikely" so I was really excited to actually be going.
First and foremost: I found the sun! I had missed it so much. I've been spoiled growing up in Colorado, where the sun rarely stays hidden for more than a few days. I noticed I felt a sense of entitlement, and was taking the endless string of grey days as a personal insult. I'm more appreciative now; after going more than a month without sun in Zagreb, I was so glad to be able to sit outside.
We went to Antalya, which is more or less in the middle of the southern coast. The region is dominated by rugged mountains rising right out of the sea. The contrast is impressive. Sitting on the beach, surrounded by palm trees, orange groves and perfect turquoise water, I could look up and see the snowy windblown tops of massive mountains.
We saw tons of ancient Greek and Roman ruins. They were so plentiful, in fact, that people didn't feel obligated to build a museum around every one. I saw them sitting in hotel courtyards, peeking out from between buildings, even partially paved over by roads.
It wasn't as different as I expected, but that could be partly due to the fact that, as far as I could tell, we were in the Cancun of Turkey. Still, there were plenty of novel things, the most vivid for me being my visit to the city of Antalya.
Never before had I felt so conspicuously out of place. Bruna, Kelsey and I went to Antalya one day on the public bus, and we were not prepared for the size of the city, or for the fact that the bus we caught at the hotel wouldn't take us to the center, but would instead drop us in a parking lot somewhere on the outskirts of the city. From the moment I stepped onto the rickety little city bus, I knew there was no chance of passing for someone who belonged. The bus was filled past capacity and sagging in the back with the weight of the passengers-almost entirely Turkish men-who filled the five long benches, as well and the narrow aisle, ducking to avoid banging their heads of the ceiling, and as we climbed aboard, they stopped their chatter and stared.
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