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.