Travel Haikus

Preface

As our bus crept out of the exotic city of Granada, Spain early on a Sunday morning, spirits were low. Rain pounded on the windows of the lonely blue-gray airport shuttle, running down the windows and leaving tear-like stains in its path. Arms were tired and sore from the strain of carrying our oversized rolling luggage up and down the staircases of the metro system. Sweat rolled down my cheeks from the three jackets, heavy sweater, and two scarves I was wearing to avoid tipping my checked baggage over the unusually low 15-kilo weight limit militarily enforced by Ryan Air (most normal airlines allow up to 23 kilos--Ryan Air charges 20 euros for every kilo over 15). And worst of all, we were forced to leave Rick behind.

Perhaps you are familiar with Rick. His dignified graying hair and friendly smile were a comfort to us during our sometimes disorienting trip through Spain. His cheesy sense of humour raised our spirits in the face of desperation, despair, and looming foreign historical buildings that we knew absolutely nothing about. Yes, indeed--I am speaking of the one and only travel-guide book writer, Rick Steves. If you have ever experienced the joy of a trip with Rick, you will understand our utter devastation at having to leave him behind in order to consolidate our luggage and comply with Ryan Air weight limits. A trip with Rick is truly an unforgettable one, and our last night was commemorated with a small ceremony before leaving him at the Oasis Backpacker's Hostel in Granada. R.I.P., Rick--and with that, we bid our adieus. 

As we left on the bus, the mood was solemn. None of us could quite get the thought of Rick out of our heads. But, as with most unfortunate events, out of this was born something good--inspiration. In honor of our luckless friend, we decided to compose a haiku. Upon which the first of a series of travel haikus was born.

I hope you will enjoy this collection of terribly cheesy and poorly written poetry. Much thought, effort, and love was invested in each and every haiku (average composition time of 2 minutes), and each contains a unique flair. They were created in airports, on buses, and...well, in airports and on buses. The poetry is written in both German and English, but an English translation has been included with each German haiku in order to facilitate the reading process for our non-German-speaking audience. We hope that our poetry will enrich and entertain you....and most importantly, inspire you to never, ever fly Ryan Air.

Sincerely,

Ann Marie Weber (editor-in-chief)

Rick Haiku

So viel zusammen, (Translation: Together so much,

Warum muss ich dich lassen? Why must I leave you?

Oh Rick, du fehlst mir. Oh Rick, I miss you.)

RyanAir Haiku

Ryan, we hate you.

Ann looks like an Eskimo.

Ry'n, never again.

Sainsbury's Haiku (Amazing grocery store in London)

Sainsbury's really rocks.

What a grocery store should be.

Its soup was the best.

Innsbruck Haiku

Innsbruck mein Heimat (Translation: Innsbruck my home

Sehnsucht auf deinen Bergen Longing for your mountains

ie hab di viel Lieb. I love you a lot.)

Barcelona: First Impressions

From the second I stepped off the airport bus into the peaceful Plaza de Catalunya here in Barcelona, Spain, I´ve felt truly on vacation. With its wide streets and steady breeze from the not-so-far-away ocean, Barcelona is a vacationer´s paradise. Excited to find myself once again in a Spanish-speaking country and anxious to try out my rusty language skills, I looked immediately to the street signs to see how much I could decipher. Alas, they were completely foreign--Catalán, rather than Spanish, is the ruling language in this area. In spite of this minor setback, however, I proceeded pig-headedly to try to use my Spanish in whatever basic transactions I could. I was relatively successful (pretty much everyone speaks Spanish as well as Catalán here)--except for my failure to adapt my Spanish for the particular accent here in Spain, making me practically incomprehensible to the local population. Yesterday in a convenience store, I attempted to ask the cashier what kinds of candies were considered traditional ¨Spanish¨ candies. Unfortunately, however, our lovely friend behind the counter was having difficulty understanding my use of the word ¨dulces¨ (¨candies¨). ¨Luces?¨ she asked with a confused face. ¨No, dulces--para comer!¨I responded. Finally, after much sign language and use of the English word "candies", we had a breakthrough. ¨Ohhh...dulthes!¨ she replied. Upon which I was reminded that, yes, indeed....I am in Esthpaña...

Orientierungslos

Sitting on a crystal couch at the Swarovski "Kristallwelt" just outside of Innsbruck

Ok, so I apologize for my lack of diligence on this blog...but rarer posts = more cherished posts, right? Or at least that's how I've tried to justify my lack of updates to myself...but I promise to be better in the future (late New Year's resolution?).

In any case, things are starting to pick up here in Austria. The semester students arrived last weekend, increasing the Notre Dame population here from eight to twenty-two. It was great to see some familiar faces in the new arrivals, but also pretty funny to watch them as they settled in, as I was reminded of my beginnings in Austria. I was trying to think of a good word to describe the feeling of those first few months and a new German term I learned this weekend from a friend of mine came to mind: "Orientierungslos"--which technically translated means "disoriented", but literally translated means "without orientation". Ok, so maybe to any other normal person those two definitions would seem like the same thing...but somehow there seems to be a nuanced difference to me...

But as I thought about this concept of being "Orientierungslos", I started to realize how much I have begun to gain my bearings in Innsbruck. Although I still have a long way to go in terms of the language, speaking German in everyday life is starting to become more natural and less intimidating. I'm developing a real fondness for the region of Tirol and the way of life here. A friend of mine described it quite well: "Coming here is almost like going back in time a little bit," she said, "...it's almost as if...as if they were a country secretly wishing for the Emperor back." And before the Austrians reading this blog protest loudly, I have to defend this impression a little bit by saying that this is not a criticism of Austria--on the contrary, it's a kind of compliment. Part of the charm and beauty of Austria is the strong presence of tradition here--an element which makes it somehow very warm and welcoming. Traditions that connect people to the past and to their heritage, and that teach you how to conduct yourself with honor. Traditions that give you roots--and an orientation. And this is probably what has made me love Tirol the most: in the midst of those first few months of "Orientierungslos"ness, I somehow managed to find a re-orientation in the way of life here. And that, I believe, has made all the difference.

Life, Stress, and the American University

It started the other night as we were playing ping pong and I was talking to my neighbor, a musician from southern Italy, about the university system in the U.S. "You guys are so lucky," he said, "your universities have everything." The girl sitting next to him, a student from Japan who normally attends university in Italy, nodded her head in agreement. A little taken aback by this statement, I asked him to clarify. "What do you mean our universities have everything," I asked, "how are they any different from the universities here?" They looked at each other, and then started talking about the marvel of universities with sports programs and clubs and multiple other opportunities outside of studying. "Do you live on campus?" they asked, and when I answered with an affirmative, their eyes grew wide with wonder. I think this conversation was the start of my consideration of the differences between universities in the States and the universities here. 

On the one hand, my friends had a point. Although some clubs and sports teams do exist here, the concept of such a thing as school spirit is more or less non-existent (this fact is probably best observed in the complete lack of any type of clothing--sweatshirts, t-shirts, hats--bearing the school logo). One attends university here to study, not to do extracurriculars. In addition, because practically all of the universities here are public and more or less equivalent in quality (with a few exceptions for specific programs, such as medicine), most people stay within a one to two hour radius of their hometown, and it is not at all uncommon to live at home while completing university studies. In this way, the American university certainly does have a unique appeal, as the opportunities extend far beyond classroom studies. On the other hand, I tried to explain to them, this idea of participating in activities outside of studying has become in recent years more of a compulsion in American high schools and universities than a choice. Such participation is practically a prerequisite for attending a university in the upper echelons or maintaining a competitive resume for the workforce. That is not to say that such activities cannot be enjoyed--of course one is in control of the type of extracurriculars in which one participates--but at the same time, the concept of "being a well-rounded person" has been taken to such an extreme in the U.S. that at times it can become almost unhealthy. Such attempts to constantly "be involved" and maintain a competitive edge often lead to a ridiculous amount of unnecessary stress at American universities.

As I talked with a friend from India last night, she noted something similar. She is a graduate student here at the University of Innsbruck, yet she commented on the lower amount of stress present here than in universities in India where she completed her bachelor's and master's degrees. "Even if I come back from the lab late at night, I don't feel stressed," she said. And as I thought about this point, I realized that it was not something particular to the universities, but rather something common to the culture here in general. Although people here are still studying and working hard, more time is taken outside of work simply to enjoy life and relationships with others. This, I tried to tell my Italian friend, is the beauty of attending university here.

Of course, there are pros and cons to both systems, and I am really quite grateful for all the opportunities available at American universities, and particularly at Notre Dame. At the same time, however, I think I am discovering here the value of slowing down and valuing my relationships with those around me, and I hope this is something I can carry back with me to the States next year. As the saying goes, "Carpe Diem!"...or perhaps more appropriately in my case, "Genießen jeden Tag." 

American as Apple Pie

One of my favorite questions to ask people here is simply, "What do you think of the U.S.?" I have found this to be a wonderfully interesting conversation starter, as the responses tend to be varied. With a German and a Swede on my floor, it led to a discussion about American television programs available here in Europe. The Swede listed with enthusiasm American shows that he likes, including Oprah and Jerry Springer. Both he and our German friend expressed a love for Joel Oesteen, the American TV-evangelist and motivational speaker. Perhaps it was just my own stereotype of Europe, but somehow I was not expecting a TV-evangelist to be at the top of most Europeans' most-watched lists. "Joel Oesteen," I responded, "what do you like about Joel Oesteen?" Their answer? His positive attitude, the way he says everything with a smile. "It's just so...so 'American apple pie'," responded the Swede. And I've found this perception of the U.S. is not so uncommon here. During a similar conversation in our Political Science class, our professor mentioned the idea that anything is possible in the U.S.; that the "American Dream" still lives on. Of course, he also mentioned the more negative perceptions of American politics in recent years--the general dislike of George Bush, the unpopularity of the war in Iraq, etc. At the same time, however, he closed his speech with a very interesting point. "As much as we may not like the current U.S. politics," he said, "we can never forget what the U.S. did for us in WWII. Without the U.S., it would've been a very different war." It is statements like these that make me realize how tightly bound Europe and the U.S. really are, and make me appreciate my heritage as an American. Of course, every culture has positive and negative aspects, and I can't pretend to be blind to the faults of the U.S. But I think one of the best parts of being abroad is learning to appreciate one's own roots while respecting the traditions of others. Here in Austria, I am learning to love things like Dirndls and fresh-baked bread and sorting my trash into four different types. But I am also realizing what a privilege it is to be an American--to be a part of the melting-pot nation, the nation where anything is possible. This is something that is really unique to the U.S.--something that gives its sometimes rough-around-the-edges appearance a special spark. But then again, my view might be a little biased. After all, as the saying goes, "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." And as Dorothy says, "There's no place like home." A view of the Alps from Innsbruck

Wordplay

While learning German certainly has its ups and downs, lately I have discovered how entertaining language exchange can be. My terrible pronunciation and lack of vocabulary have, believe it or not, served as an icebreaker in many situations. The most prominent example of this is my constant battle with the German "r". This is a running joke with my host family, as they find my inability to pronounce this letter (which, ironically, occurs three times in their last name) quite humorous. At the same time, however, the enjoyment is not completely one-sided--last weekend, my host mother accidentally translated the song title "Der Mann im Mond" (The Man in the Moon) into "The Man in the Moose"--a translation from which her daughters and I derived much entertainment. 

It is these experiences, however, that make learning a language (and a culture) so much fun. It is always a give-and-take; I introduce an aspect of American culture, and they introduce an aspect of Austrian culture. I teach them pig latin; they teach me B-Sprache (the German equivalent). I offer to teach them how to make chocolate chip cookies; they offer to teach me how to make traditional Austrian dishes. It is truly a neat experience to be a novelty somewhere, and to see what associations different people have with the U.S. One elderly man here was under the impression that Americans regularly drive to towns two hours away simply to go out to dinner. During a visit to my host family, my host dad started talking about the danger of bears breaking into houses in certain areas of the U.S., followed by a story of a survival skills course one of his friends had completed in Canada. Such incidents remind me of a saying that my math tutor used to have posted on his wall: "Everybody is ignorant, just in different subjects." But then again, who would've thought that enlightenment could be so entertaining? 

Short List of All the Nationalities for Which I've Been Mistaken So Far...

(1) Austrian (2) Polish (3) Czech (4) Australian (5) Canadian (6) French (7) British