Saturday, August 30, 2003
Itialian Pictures (Part I)
Here are some pictures from Italy, but, I'm sorry, the internet place I'm at doesn't have the ability for me to reduce the size of my photos, so some of these will be really big (500 to 600k).
Venice:
1) My Mother (smaller picture)
2) The Trio (big picture)
Agordo:
1) Lida and I (big picture)
2) Agordo View (big picture)
Here are some pictures from Italy, but, I'm sorry, the internet place I'm at doesn't have the ability for me to reduce the size of my photos, so some of these will be really big (500 to 600k).
Venice:
1) My Mother (smaller picture)
2) The Trio (big picture)
Agordo:
1) Lida and I (big picture)
2) Agordo View (big picture)
Milano
It's done. I waved bye to my Aunt kay this morning from our hotel and watched my Mom go down to Terminal A at Malpensa Airport this afternoon. I've just arrived here to Milano Central train station and am booking my room at the hostel over the internet. I love the internet.
I pawned a bunch of my trinkets and books and stuff off on my Mom while we wre in Amsterdam and she's bringing it all home in an enormous 26 kilo bag I bought at a market there. It's so great to back to only two bags again!
It seems like ages ago I arrived in Perth, West Australia from Sydeny and began collecting magazines, hats, newspapers, cheap-o t-shirts, books, and other bag filling junk(which I coldn't bear to let go because it was "for the memories" or "just such a bargain", etcetera...). Now, it's a whole new me. At the last night in our hotel in Agordo I did my final luggage weening and ditched a third of my clothing, a whole backpack, my noise-cancelling headsets (if your curious about these, go here and read about them), and most of my remaining books, which left me with a reasonably full pack, and a half full day pack that goes with it. Honestly, it seems like less than I left Sydney with. Nice. :)
So, the new me and I are going to explore Milano and hopefully find an internet plac that will allow me to upload the pictures of my time in Agordo. (You'll like them, I'm sure)
It's done. I waved bye to my Aunt kay this morning from our hotel and watched my Mom go down to Terminal A at Malpensa Airport this afternoon. I've just arrived here to Milano Central train station and am booking my room at the hostel over the internet. I love the internet.
I pawned a bunch of my trinkets and books and stuff off on my Mom while we wre in Amsterdam and she's bringing it all home in an enormous 26 kilo bag I bought at a market there. It's so great to back to only two bags again!
It seems like ages ago I arrived in Perth, West Australia from Sydeny and began collecting magazines, hats, newspapers, cheap-o t-shirts, books, and other bag filling junk(which I coldn't bear to let go because it was "for the memories" or "just such a bargain", etcetera...). Now, it's a whole new me. At the last night in our hotel in Agordo I did my final luggage weening and ditched a third of my clothing, a whole backpack, my noise-cancelling headsets (if your curious about these, go here and read about them), and most of my remaining books, which left me with a reasonably full pack, and a half full day pack that goes with it. Honestly, it seems like less than I left Sydney with. Nice. :)
So, the new me and I are going to explore Milano and hopefully find an internet plac that will allow me to upload the pictures of my time in Agordo. (You'll like them, I'm sure)
Tuesday, August 26, 2003
A Few Pictures For You II
Here are some of the pictures from Estonia and Finland.
Estonia -
1) Sittin'
2) Waitin'
Finland -
1) Fighters
2) Pig-Duck
Here are some of the pictures from Estonia and Finland.
Estonia -
1) Sittin'
2) Waitin'
Finland -
1) Fighters
2) Pig-Duck
Monday, August 25, 2003
Mi Familia
Agordo. Amazing. My family lives in the quintessential Italian mountain village. Who knew?!
My Grandmother's neice, Ermenia lives on the first floor of her daughter Sonja's and son-in-law Felix's Swiss style home on a hill side in Agordo, which is in the Agordino region of the Dolomites in North-East Italy. Sonja and Felix have two daugters, Barbara (22) and Valeria (17) who live between home and their College or University.
I am so impressed with this place I want you to see it too. The region has a cute website with a panoramic view of the mountainside complete with inspirational electronic bleeps and bloops to boot. It’s located here. You can click the link at the bottom of that page to go their homepage, but brush up on your Italian first.
I'm going to put some pictures on here soonish (tomorrow I think) so you can see my Mom, Aunt and I runnin' around the hillside with our Italiano familia.
Agordo. Amazing. My family lives in the quintessential Italian mountain village. Who knew?!
My Grandmother's neice, Ermenia lives on the first floor of her daughter Sonja's and son-in-law Felix's Swiss style home on a hill side in Agordo, which is in the Agordino region of the Dolomites in North-East Italy. Sonja and Felix have two daugters, Barbara (22) and Valeria (17) who live between home and their College or University.
I am so impressed with this place I want you to see it too. The region has a cute website with a panoramic view of the mountainside complete with inspirational electronic bleeps and bloops to boot. It’s located here. You can click the link at the bottom of that page to go their homepage, but brush up on your Italian first.
I'm going to put some pictures on here soonish (tomorrow I think) so you can see my Mom, Aunt and I runnin' around the hillside with our Italiano familia.
Friday, August 22, 2003
Gondolas and Gorganzola
Holy cannoli! I loved Amsterdam so much I didn't even make an entry for the past two weeks. Fun place, serious. My mother and I terrorised the people of Holland and they loved every minute of it (well, that's our story about it, and it works for us). But, enough about the Netherlands, let's talk Italy.
The three of us are now in Venice. Yes, the THREE of us. My Aunt Kay suprised me and met my mother and I in Frankfurt and is joining us on our sojurn through Italy. We're on an adventure to meet up with my grandmother's cousins and their children and grandchildren. This will be the first time my aunt and I have met them; my mother met them one time beofre and has pretty good Itaian to show for it too.
These two days in Venice have been fun, the canals remind me of Amsterdam but boy is the food different. The city is beautiful but overrun with tourist rats like our trio. I'm not actually sure if I've hear Italian here yet. I'll make that part of a family treasure hunt tomorrow, "The first one to hear Itlaian gets an ice cream from one of the perturbed cart operaters in period costume!"
Haven't ridden in a gondola yet, and am not sure if I will. Cheesy. But, will I regret not having done it? Naw. I did get to pee in front of a boat full of tourists though. When you've got to go you can either choose the nearest canal or get hoplessly lost in the maze of alleys just to find a restaraunt not willing to let you use their bathroom anyway. So, as they looked my way, I just yelled "Basta manjana!", which most likely means nothing but might translate to "Stop eating!" or something. I didn't intend it to make sense, they were just the first two Itlaian words that came to mind and they seemed to sound good together. Oh well, just another boat load of people shaking their heards thinking "damn American tourists..."
Holy cannoli! I loved Amsterdam so much I didn't even make an entry for the past two weeks. Fun place, serious. My mother and I terrorised the people of Holland and they loved every minute of it (well, that's our story about it, and it works for us). But, enough about the Netherlands, let's talk Italy.
The three of us are now in Venice. Yes, the THREE of us. My Aunt Kay suprised me and met my mother and I in Frankfurt and is joining us on our sojurn through Italy. We're on an adventure to meet up with my grandmother's cousins and their children and grandchildren. This will be the first time my aunt and I have met them; my mother met them one time beofre and has pretty good Itaian to show for it too.
These two days in Venice have been fun, the canals remind me of Amsterdam but boy is the food different. The city is beautiful but overrun with tourist rats like our trio. I'm not actually sure if I've hear Italian here yet. I'll make that part of a family treasure hunt tomorrow, "The first one to hear Itlaian gets an ice cream from one of the perturbed cart operaters in period costume!"
Haven't ridden in a gondola yet, and am not sure if I will. Cheesy. But, will I regret not having done it? Naw. I did get to pee in front of a boat full of tourists though. When you've got to go you can either choose the nearest canal or get hoplessly lost in the maze of alleys just to find a restaraunt not willing to let you use their bathroom anyway. So, as they looked my way, I just yelled "Basta manjana!", which most likely means nothing but might translate to "Stop eating!" or something. I didn't intend it to make sense, they were just the first two Itlaian words that came to mind and they seemed to sound good together. Oh well, just another boat load of people shaking their heards thinking "damn American tourists..."
Flemish Love?!
It seems that everyone wants to know who I wrote my love letter to. Well, as lame as it may seem, I wrote it to myself. I just wanted to write one damnit! So, when I get back to Denver it should be waiting for me... I hope I still love me then. ;)
It seems that everyone wants to know who I wrote my love letter to. Well, as lame as it may seem, I wrote it to myself. I just wanted to write one damnit! So, when I get back to Denver it should be waiting for me... I hope I still love me then. ;)
Sunday, August 10, 2003
Flemish Love
I listened to a woman read me her love letter to her lover today. It was powerful, and emotinal. The letter (and her recital) were in Flemish, one of the main languages in Belguim (something like French and German mixed together). I know it was great because I could see it in her face and her body. I was moved enough to write my first love letter in well over 2 years. I felt it, wrote it, and sent it. It feels good.
I listened to a woman read me her love letter to her lover today. It was powerful, and emotinal. The letter (and her recital) were in Flemish, one of the main languages in Belguim (something like French and German mixed together). I know it was great because I could see it in her face and her body. I was moved enough to write my first love letter in well over 2 years. I felt it, wrote it, and sent it. It feels good.
Friday, August 08, 2003
Brussels
Mo is great :) We had dinner last night at an Italian cafè near the hotel we're staying at where my Mom practiced her Italian a bit for our upcoming adventure down there about two weeks from now.
I'm still having some language processing problems and often find myself using Russian in simple situations, like "yes", "no", and "please" coming out as "dah", "nyet", and "pahzholista". Oddly enough, when I did this at this Italian cafè in Belgium the waiter replied, "Horosho. Ladna, ya govaryat pa-Rooskee tohsha" (Good. Okay, I'll speak Russian too.) Strange. As it's highly unlikely that the world is adapting to my language difficulties, I'm chlaking it up to the fact that our hotel, and this cafè, share the block with the enormous and amazing European Parliment building. Brussels, and this area more specifically, are VERY international indeed.
So, if you thought that Washington DC was a government town, Brussels is home to almost all goverment in Belgium, head-quarters of the EU, divisions of the world court, ground-zero of NATO, and hosts the foreign Embassies and diplomatic missions to Belgium, the EU, and NATO.
If I knew French, I might just stumble into a government job here. :)
Mo is great :) We had dinner last night at an Italian cafè near the hotel we're staying at where my Mom practiced her Italian a bit for our upcoming adventure down there about two weeks from now.
I'm still having some language processing problems and often find myself using Russian in simple situations, like "yes", "no", and "please" coming out as "dah", "nyet", and "pahzholista". Oddly enough, when I did this at this Italian cafè in Belgium the waiter replied, "Horosho. Ladna, ya govaryat pa-Rooskee tohsha" (Good. Okay, I'll speak Russian too.) Strange. As it's highly unlikely that the world is adapting to my language difficulties, I'm chlaking it up to the fact that our hotel, and this cafè, share the block with the enormous and amazing European Parliment building. Brussels, and this area more specifically, are VERY international indeed.
So, if you thought that Washington DC was a government town, Brussels is home to almost all goverment in Belgium, head-quarters of the EU, divisions of the world court, ground-zero of NATO, and hosts the foreign Embassies and diplomatic missions to Belgium, the EU, and NATO.
If I knew French, I might just stumble into a government job here. :)
Thursday, August 07, 2003
Almost Finnished
The countries are just whizzing by now. Hanna (the Finn) came and met me in Tallin last Saturday and we took the ferry to Finland, Helsinki to be exact, that evening. I was sad to leave Estonia after only three days there, but such is the life of a traveller on a time-line.
Hanna sure is a cutie though. She and I palled around Turku, her home town, quite a bit over the past week. Turku is a slow, very scandinavian town. Lots of Finnish flags, tasteful teak furniture, and steel and glass buildings with smooth lines: Scandia Supreme! Her studio apartment is straight out of an Ikea catalogue. I'm so jealous. It's on the eighth floor of a neat building with a view of Turku and the river out of her large window. We made a Finnish dessert called Kiiseli (Key-selee) which is a not-so-sweet and not-so-thick version of jello comprised mainly (2/3) of real fruit. So, not much like jello at all really. I got the secret Finnish recipe, so don't tell anyone and I might make it for you one day.
But now I'm back in Helsinki, and am crouching in the corner of a fasionable cafe' in the trendy old Naval Yard area of town. Greqt view, but I'm being subjected to a Mel Torme remix of somekind, and, trust me, it's worse than you're imagining.
It's great to go trekking about the city watching the beautiful Finns greet eachother and speak their quite humorous language. Here's an example of Finnish as compared to other "more common" romance languages:
English: One, Two, Three...
Spanish: Uno, Dos, Tres...
Finnish: Ewk-see, Cok-see, Coh-lem-ehy...
I rest my case. One doesn't realize how valuable one-sylable numbers are until you're trying to discern the price of your groceries at a Finnish shop... But, I love it!
Here are the basics for you future frolickers in the frozen Far-North:
English: Hey / Hello / Bye
Finnish: Moi / Hey / Hey-Hey
English: Yes/No
Finnish: Yoh/Ehy
Now you're fully equpped for your first few hours in Finland! Fun!
...only a few more hours until I meet Mo (My "Mo"m) in Brussels, Belgium. :D
The countries are just whizzing by now. Hanna (the Finn) came and met me in Tallin last Saturday and we took the ferry to Finland, Helsinki to be exact, that evening. I was sad to leave Estonia after only three days there, but such is the life of a traveller on a time-line.
Hanna sure is a cutie though. She and I palled around Turku, her home town, quite a bit over the past week. Turku is a slow, very scandinavian town. Lots of Finnish flags, tasteful teak furniture, and steel and glass buildings with smooth lines: Scandia Supreme! Her studio apartment is straight out of an Ikea catalogue. I'm so jealous. It's on the eighth floor of a neat building with a view of Turku and the river out of her large window. We made a Finnish dessert called Kiiseli (Key-selee) which is a not-so-sweet and not-so-thick version of jello comprised mainly (2/3) of real fruit. So, not much like jello at all really. I got the secret Finnish recipe, so don't tell anyone and I might make it for you one day.
But now I'm back in Helsinki, and am crouching in the corner of a fasionable cafe' in the trendy old Naval Yard area of town. Greqt view, but I'm being subjected to a Mel Torme remix of somekind, and, trust me, it's worse than you're imagining.
It's great to go trekking about the city watching the beautiful Finns greet eachother and speak their quite humorous language. Here's an example of Finnish as compared to other "more common" romance languages:
English: One, Two, Three...
Spanish: Uno, Dos, Tres...
Finnish: Ewk-see, Cok-see, Coh-lem-ehy...
I rest my case. One doesn't realize how valuable one-sylable numbers are until you're trying to discern the price of your groceries at a Finnish shop... But, I love it!
Here are the basics for you future frolickers in the frozen Far-North:
English: Hey / Hello / Bye
Finnish: Moi / Hey / Hey-Hey
English: Yes/No
Finnish: Yoh/Ehy
Now you're fully equpped for your first few hours in Finland! Fun!
...only a few more hours until I meet Mo (My "Mo"m) in Brussels, Belgium. :D
Friday, August 01, 2003
Update
Yes, I've had a hot shower. My Estonian youth hostel is fully equipped. It's even got some pretty hostile Ukrainian youths. They're funny though, just helping each other make it through their mid-pubescent crisis I think. They'll grow out of it. ;)
Yes, I've had a hot shower. My Estonian youth hostel is fully equipped. It's even got some pretty hostile Ukrainian youths. They're funny though, just helping each other make it through their mid-pubescent crisis I think. They'll grow out of it. ;)
Russian 2.0
It's hoppin', it's happenin', it's in fashion, ... it's Tallinn! (Estonia that is.)
Oh boy have I missed smiles from strangers. I didn't know how important they were to my every day survival until they were gone (ie: I found myself in Russia). I'm not some needy, affection crazed nut; I don't require Thailand levels of conversational pleasantries (ie: uhhh... No... where I come from, it's not polite to grab that). I just enjoy, and react to, a good ol' smile.
It's amazing, but this warm reception spoken 'pah-Roosky' (in Russian) has completely confused my brain's ability to process this language. I'm not sure why it took me so long to notice, but I have just realized that the tone of Russian in Saint Petersburg is a lot like an exasperated six year old who's desperately trying to explain to a paralyzed and awestruck adult why it's perfectly fine that they spray painted your new car with some "more pertyer cahlars." Complete this image with the eye rolling and head bobbing, and you get a sense of how the Russian language comes across to the foreigner who made the mistake of asking an old lady for directions. I should be fair though, it's not an overtly aggressive thing. This Baba (grandma) wouldn't hit you with her hand bag or anything, that would require to much energy (from her) and interest (in you).
I guess the point is, during my first week in Russia, I discovered that, largely, these people are a stoic, private, and stubborn people. Although I didn't see it at the time, now I'm sure that it was revealed in how they used their language.
The Estonians speak perfect Russian, and why wouldn't they? These people have been under Russian occupation for more than a few hundred years of the last Millennia. However, when I cut the Russian language out of the context of Russian people and paste it on the Estonians, it begins to seem really strange. I no longer feel the need to bear my fangs when I produce a "cheh", or curl my lip when I roll my "R". I like that.
I'm learning a new language: "Russian version 2.0" Nicer, friendlier, and definitely much more Estonian.
It's hoppin', it's happenin', it's in fashion, ... it's Tallinn! (Estonia that is.)
Oh boy have I missed smiles from strangers. I didn't know how important they were to my every day survival until they were gone (ie: I found myself in Russia). I'm not some needy, affection crazed nut; I don't require Thailand levels of conversational pleasantries (ie: uhhh... No... where I come from, it's not polite to grab that). I just enjoy, and react to, a good ol' smile.
It's amazing, but this warm reception spoken 'pah-Roosky' (in Russian) has completely confused my brain's ability to process this language. I'm not sure why it took me so long to notice, but I have just realized that the tone of Russian in Saint Petersburg is a lot like an exasperated six year old who's desperately trying to explain to a paralyzed and awestruck adult why it's perfectly fine that they spray painted your new car with some "more pertyer cahlars." Complete this image with the eye rolling and head bobbing, and you get a sense of how the Russian language comes across to the foreigner who made the mistake of asking an old lady for directions. I should be fair though, it's not an overtly aggressive thing. This Baba (grandma) wouldn't hit you with her hand bag or anything, that would require to much energy (from her) and interest (in you).
I guess the point is, during my first week in Russia, I discovered that, largely, these people are a stoic, private, and stubborn people. Although I didn't see it at the time, now I'm sure that it was revealed in how they used their language.
The Estonians speak perfect Russian, and why wouldn't they? These people have been under Russian occupation for more than a few hundred years of the last Millennia. However, when I cut the Russian language out of the context of Russian people and paste it on the Estonians, it begins to seem really strange. I no longer feel the need to bear my fangs when I produce a "cheh", or curl my lip when I roll my "R". I like that.
I'm learning a new language: "Russian version 2.0" Nicer, friendlier, and definitely much more Estonian.
