if all else fails, meet me in Helsinki

why are you reading this?

2006-07-18T17:58:00.000-06:00

7/18/2006, 16.00
Vermillion, South Dakota

At long last this damn thing finally is ready to be posted! Admittedly, some portions of it have been censored and/or abridged, but only to keep from publicly posting obnoxiously personal things about other people. Having absolutely no shame myself, I really couldn’t care less about posting the embarrassing shit that I’ve done.

Keeping all that in mind, I sincerely hope the one, maybe two people who ever read this obsessively long, overly emotional piece of ridiculousness enjoy themselves!

ITINERARY

2006-07-18T17:56:00.001-06:00

Date; Time; From; To; Method

30/05; 14.00; Chicago, Illinois; Boston, Massachusetts; Air
30/05; 20.00; Boston, Massachusetts; London, England; Air
31/05; 07.09; London,

England

; Paris, France; Train
01/06; 14.24; Paris,

France

; Milano, Italy; Train
02/06; 19.05; Milano,

Italy

; Venezia, Italy; Train
03/06; 09.15; Venezia,

Italy

; Trieste, Italy; Train
04/06; 12.47; Trieste,

Italy

; Venezia, Italy; Train
06/06; 12.32; Venezia,

Italy

; Roma, Italy; Train
10/06; 23.00; Roma,

Italy

; Palermo, Italy; Train
11/06; 18.00; Palermo,

Italy

; Roma, Italy; Train
12/06; 08.52; Roma,

Italy

; Bari, Italy; Train
12/06; 20.00; Bari,

Italy

; Patras, Greece; Sea
13/06; 13.55; Patras,

Greece

; Korinthos, Greece; Train
13/06; --.--; Korinthos,

Greece

; Nafplio, Greece; Bus
16/06; 14.00; Nafplio,

Greece

; Athina, Greece; Bus
19/06; 16.24; Athina,

Greece

; Thessaloniki, Greece; Train
21/06; 02.30; Thessaloniki,

Greece

; Istanbul, Turkey; Bus
21/06; 23.50; Istanbul,

Turkey

; Ekaterinburg, Russia; Air
22/06; 11.20; Ekaterinburg,

Russia

; Chelyabinsk, Russia; Bus
25/06; 20.30; Chelyabinsk,

Russia

; St. Petersburg, Russia; Train
27/06; 16.30; St. Petersburg,

Russia

; Helsinki, Finland; Train
28/06; 12.03; Helsinki, Finland; Karis (or Karjaa), Finland, Train
28/06; 13.10; Karis (or Karjaa), Finland; Hanko, Finland; Train
28/06; 21.00; Hanko,

Finland

; Rostock, Germany; Sea
30/06; 12.33; Rostock,

Germany

; Berlin, Germany; Train
01/07; 13.43; Berlin,

Germany

; Praha, Czech Republic; Train
03/07; 11.22; Praha,

Czech Republic

; Dresden, Germany; Train
07/07; 13.08; Dresden,

Germany

; Frankfurt, Germany; Train
07/07; 22.50; Frankfurt,

Germany

; Paris, France; Train
08/07; 15.58; Paris, France; Lille, France; Train
08/07; 17.24; Lille, France; Bruxelles, Belgium; Train
09/07; 12.58; Bruxelles,

Belgium

; London, England; Train
10/07; --.--; London,

England

; New York City, New York
10/07; --.--; New York City, New York; Chicago, Illinois

airline thoughts

2006-07-18T17:55:00.000-06:00

5/29/2006
Albuquerque, New Mexico to Chicago, Illinois

I am excited beyond all comprehension. And scared. Excited & scared beyond all comprehension. In less than 24 hours I'll be in the air on my way to London.

I'm scared.

Not that anything terrible will happen to me, or that this trip won't be as memorable as I long for it to be, but that I know, almost more than I've ever known anything, that it will change me. I can feel it affecting me already. Or perhaps, more than that, I'm scared I'll return with hundreds of wonderful pictures, even more wonderful stories...& nothing else.

Forget it, that's bullshit.

Nothing ever changes me or anyone. We grow & develop as a result of our experiences, our stories. To change those parts of me that are holding me back & keeping me from acting on what I want, all I need are more stories. Tomorrow at 14.00, I am gonna start working on one hell of a new one. It will take place in London England, Chelyabinsk Russia, & everywhere in between & include exotic train trips, multiple border crossings, 3 sea crossings, chases, escapes, friendship, vodka, weed, sex, sports, belly dancing...& me & Chris. Keep reading, I will tell it as it happens.

I'm excited.

rocky beginnings

2006-07-18T17:54:00.000-06:00

6/1/2006
Paris, France to Milano, Italy

To Milano! We're on a TGV train heading from Paris, France to Milano, Italy. Yesterday morning I arrived in London by way of Heathrow Airport. Chris met me, we took the tube downtown, & walked around (exciting so far, huh?). We saw Shakespeare's Globe Theater, which looked just like all the pictures I've seen. No surprise there. Then we found Waterloo Station, from which we'd be taking a train into Paris later that day, then found a little café nearby for breakfast.

I feel it's important to mention that at this point I had been awake since 7:50 am Albuquerque time. Monday. I literally was beginning to hallucinate. It felt good to get some bacon, eggs, beans, sausage & coffee in me. Oh, & toast. That nice, warm feeling lasted for, oh, maybe around 20 minutes or so, at which point it all began to fall apart.

Sitting in Waterloo, waiting at a café to board our train, I began to feel a tad queasy. I figured it was due to the extreme fatigue combined with all of the illegal drugs I had been taking. Wouldn't you know it, I was wrong. Once on the train it got worse & worse, & I started breaking out in a cold sweat. I endured this for most of the 3 hour trip, until finally I ended up on my knees in the teeny-weeny train bathroom. It was decidedly less than pretty. I felt slightly better afterwards, but my stomach now was cramping from the evil British food poisoning & I was still exhausted. Once we arrived in Paris I said screw finding a hostel & just splurged on a cheap hotel near the train station (Gare du Nord). It was miserable; I could barely stand. I got to our room, took a shower, & passed out.

The next morning, this morning, I awoke stiff but worlds better! My stomach still was not happy, but it was on the mend. Chris & I walked around a bit before finally settling down at a corner café, buying a baguette & drinking some espresso. This was on our way to the Gare d'Lyon (another train station).

And now here we sit! I'm still getting used to the pack so my shoulders are a bit sore, but otherwise I am feeling 100% better. Only about 5 more hours until we are in Milano, Italy!

makin' eyes

2006-07-18T17:53:00.000-06:00

6/1/2006
Paris, France to Milano, Italy

Part 2: Torino

So I've been catching the eye of this cute girl 3 rows ahead of me for awhile now. Very pretty eyes! We made a brief stop in Torino to pick people up, & she got up for a smoke break. So, being the social (& male) creature that I am, I grabbed the pack of cigs I had leftover from Albuquerque & asked for a light on the platform. I got a very nice smile both when she handed me her lighter & when I gave it back with a thank you, but no words. It's strange not knowing someone's nationality or language! I suppose I could've asked...

while you can change the country...

2006-07-18T17:52:00.000-06:00

6/2/2006
Milano, Italy to Venezia, Italy

Aargh! What is it with this inane, childish mental block I've got that keeps me from being engaging & makes me shut the hell up!? I'm pissed that I'm pissed about this again!

So Chris has been flirting with Rosanne day & night, & it hasn’t taken long for it to make a significant difference. And that's not to say that I blame him. I would too if I had the guts to! I am in full third wheel mode right now! (Is that the phrase?) Ugh. Oh well.

Other than that everything is wonderful. Milano is very urban. Beautiful, but urban. Lots of tourists (including us), lots of dramatic architecture, & tons of shops...except everything's always closed. It's weird. But still pretty. Dude, those Alps kick the Rockies' collective ass.

We spent all day today roaming around Milano with Rosanne. It was lovely. We ended up lying on the grass in a piazza outside the train station, juggling for some people & finally smoking some hash with a gay Moroccan from Germany & his skateboarding buddies. Damn! When I put it all down in writing like that it sounds even better! I love it here.

beneath blankets by the canal

2006-07-18T17:51:00.000-06:00

6/3/2006
Venezia, Italy to Trieste, Italy

God what an incredible place!! Venezia (Venice) is everything I've dreamed & far, far more! No words can adequately describe the complete joy I felt immediately upon setting foot outside the train station last night. Water & people were everything. The sea was thick in the breeze, music & laughter could be heard echoing from various alleys, & there was nothing but pure happiness in the air. How does a city arrive at such a blissful state?

While we arrived at 22:00, it wasn't until around 01:00 or 01:30 that we truly became homeless. That was the time we finally realized that what the innkeepers had repeatedly been telling us was true: due to a national holiday, EVERYTHING in the city was booked solid. So we got ourselves unlost from our little (big) walking tour & made it back to the train station...which of course was closed. On the plus side, there was a veritable hotel in front of it, inhabited by many in a situation similar to our own! So we casually waved our hellos, got comfortable & popped open a bottle of wine. We drank, played some cards, talked, & drank some more. The bottle did not last long. Fortunately the night was such that we did not need it to keep warm; it was perfect weather.

So much was merrily discussed that it would be impossible for me to cover it all here (or even remember it), but suffice to say topics ranged from corkscrews to origins (our own) to boobs to warnings from strangers about local marauding bands of knife-wielding Moroccan thieves. THEN things got interesting.

The three of us ended up side by side under a blanket (courtesy Air India...thank you Chris); it had gotten chillier. As wonders never seem to cease, Rosanne & I ended the night & carried on into the morning playing handsy: the hand version of footsy. Did not see that one coming.

And now, since nothing is open (hotel-wise), we are on a 3-hour train to Trieste, right smack on the Slovenian border. We will be spending tonight there, as it's cheaper & will have less crowds, & tomorrow we have reservations for two nights at a nice hostel back in Venezia. I can't wait to go back!

But first, a nap...

up for interpretation

2006-07-18T17:50:00.000-06:00

6/4/2006
Trieste, Italy to Venezia, Italy

I am letting go! I am letting it all go! At the moment anyway. It was good to chat with Chris alone this morning. He is going to help me worry less & I am going to help him relax more. This bodes well for things to come.

Trieste is a splendid place, though we did not see very much of it. Definitely off the beaten path, it's a sizable city not at all targeted to tourists...which I enjoy. It's a port town on the Adriatic, & looks to be pretty industrial. Beautiful architecture, but that's not exactly new.

We checked into our hotel (with three beds!) at around 12.00, then went for a walk while they prepared our room. We bought some groceries, walked to the port & sat eating bread & fruit at the water's edge for 30 minutes or so while watching a great fleet of sailboats advance painstakingly slowly from the horizon. It was über calming.

Back at the hotel we each took a lengthy shower (no joke, Chris was in there for at LEAST seven minutes!) & passed out. I awoke at 20.00ish to Rosanne whispering "pizza" about three inches from my face. Strange way to come back to reality, especially when in the throes of a sex dream. Couldn't I have had ten minutes more? Chris already was up & roaming the room, ready to continue on into the evening.

It was just before dusk when we finally hit the streets on a primal hunt for food. Once again everything was already closed, a recurring phenomenon that fast was becoming a black mark on my "so far so good" impression of this country. Eventually we ran into what seemed to be the "social" corridor of the city with cafés, music & Italians drinking & toasting each other as far as the eye could see (which was about maybe twenty yards at most before hitting the side of a building). We wound up watching the sun set over the port while gorging ourselves with pizza & pasta, drinking beer & wine & topping off our bellies with profiteroles & tiramisu. Did I mention we were in Italy?

Now we are en route back to Venezia, this time with hostel reservations awaiting our arrival. The next two days will be spent there. Doing what I haven't a clue, but I'm hoping some part of it involves a beach.

And now I've gotta run, it's time to join Rosanne in an interpretive dance to Celine Dion...

sleepless nights

2006-07-18T17:49:00.000-06:00

6/14/2006
Nafplio, Greece

I had a dream last night; I cannot remember what it was about, but when I awoke it was light outside, & I felt lonelier than I have in a long, long time. I fell back asleep & dreamt again.

I recall only very little. Chris & I were inside somewhere - something like a hostel, I think - & everything was very dark, although I don't think it was nighttime. There was a kitchen, & something happened with it; I don't remember what. I was excited. Olga was to be meeting us here. She arrived exactly as I remember her: excited, happy, animated, smiling - gleeful. She saw me, clapped her hands in joy, ran to me...& shook my hand. After telling me how happy she was to see me, she introduced me to her boyfriend - a tall, well-built, dark-haired boy. I woke up. After 20 or so minutes of listening to whispers, giggles & kisses coming from the tiny, overburdened bed across the room, I shamefully took refuge in the shower to begin my day.

"The more you know, the less you feel." I wish with all my heart that was true for me. Being busy allows me the luxury of not thinking about myself or my life. Relaxing in luxury ultimately condemns me to the torment brought by that which I cannot ever escape.

I gave Rosanne an hour & a half massage last night. Chris very kindly pretended to sleep throughout. It was a full upper-body: head, neck, shoulders, back, arms & hands. She was extravagantly complimentary, but I don't believe she was embellishing. I have "magic hands, magic fingers." She told me she believed she was more relaxed than she ever had been...like she had just finished having sex for the third time in one day. She speculated that my fingers could only feel better in other places on her body, & was adamant that any girl receiving a massage from them would fall instantly in love with me. She wasn't trying to tease, if she had been I would've been able to feel it in her back. It would be easier for me to hear if it was only a tease. She insisted that it was the best massage she had ever received (apparently including the one she received from Chris in Roma), & vowed never to ask for one from any of her future boyfriends. I can't imagine anything more complimentary or more tormenting. She enjoyed her massage.

After talking for a spell about her dreams, her last boyfriend & what she wants in her next boyfriend it was decided that because Chris was "asleep" in the single bed, she & I would (innocently) share the double. We got ready for bed, & she wanted to cuddle with Chris just for 30 minutes. I knew better, & was not at all surprised when I awoke this morning, curled up & alone, with the oversized bed to myself.

talent or luck?

2006-07-18T17:48:00.000-06:00

6/16/2006
Nafplio, Greece to Athina, Greece

You know, looking back over the last two weeks, frankly I am somewhat amazed that I am not yet psychotic. Never saw any of this coming...

Ok, recap time. As far as traveling goes we've all three gone from Venezia to Roma, Roma to Palermo (Sicilia), Palermo back to Roma, Roma to Bari, Bari to Patras, Greece (by ferry across the Adriatic), Patras to Corinth, & Corinth to Nafplio. Now we are on our way to the great Athina! During this time we've hiked (against our collective will) across half of metropolitan Roma, spent countless hours in train cars & I've been forcefully reacquainted with the fact that I am ridiculously unlucky.

Chris & Rosanne have completely fallen for each other. Honestly I really am happy for my friend; he adores her. Of course so do I, but while they're holding hands, sleeping on each others' shoulders, whispering & giggling, & laying in each others' arms I'm spooning with rank Italians on trains, listening to late-night "French lessons" from across the room, getting mugged by greasy, underaged knife-wielding Sicilians, & feeling lonelier as the days go by. Ultimately, this trip will make one badass story. Plus Chris & I will be back on our own in a few days. This bus is seriously shaky...my handwriting is atrocious.

who likes logic?

2006-07-18T17:47:00.001-06:00

6/19/2006
Athina, Greece to Thessaloniki, Greece

Ugh, more fond caressing going on across the tiny train compartment. I cannot wait until I do not have to watch any more of this (sorry Chris).

This trip is getting less and less logical & more and more twisted by the day! Currently we are traveling by train to Thessaloniki, in northern Greece near Macedonia, where we will sleep tonight (we actually thought to make reservations this time!). Tomorrow we will bum around town (hopefully hopefully hopefully do laundry!), maybe catch up on email, then head back to the train station where I will hop a train to Istanbul, Turkey...alone...& Chris and Rosanne will take this train back to Athina. Yup, that's right...we are parting ways. Only temporarily though. Chris & I will meet again in St. Pete, Russia on the 26th. Provided he can get into the country that is. If all else fails, we'll meet in Helsinki. Yup, Finland. How's that for a strategy! How about I back up a little bit, hmmm? (Now that's cute, he's tenderly wiping the sweat from her brow, & he even got a kiss for it! How in god's name can they cuddle in this fucking heat??)

Chris & I needed a way to get into Russia, & time was constantly against us; our visas are valid only from 12 June though 26 June. (Aww, now she's testing how sweaty his chest is & teasingly playing with his nipple...) While it's true we still have one full week left, Russia is motherfuckin' huge. It takes days to get anywhere from anywhere. Days I tell you! So training it the whole way is out. We found a flight on Orbitz from Athina to Moscow on Aeroflot Airlines that we could afford (though barely), but they had to mail paper tickets. No time; no mailing address. No chance. So we tried calling the local Aeroflot office to see if they could issue the tickets for a comparable price. No answer. We then were pleased to discover that the very same office was less than a five-minute walk away! We walked there. We approached the ghetto elevator. We walked up the five flights of stairs. We saw they were closed until 09.00 Monday morning. We turned around. We took the ghetto elevator down the five stories. We walked back.

The only option that remained was to take the long, hot bus to the airport & pray, both of which Chris & I did. Upon arriving (& after a bit of searching), we found the Aeroflot ticket counter! Deserted. The friendly Turks at the Turkish Airlines counter next door informed us that the Russians man the counter only when they have a flight, & followed up with a comment on laziness accompanied by a mischievous grin. They were so friendly in fact that we all got to talking. We told them our soap opera & after trying many options (all of which failed miserably), it finally was discovered that we could afford to send one of us to Ekaterinburg (near Chelyabinsk, where we were headed) by way of Istanbul. We bought Russian visas. Neither of us going would mean wasting them. We're stubborn bitches. We bought me the ticket for Wednesday the 21st.

And so soon begins our journey apart. I will fly direct to Ekaterinburg & take a train or bus to Chelyabinsk. After just two days with Olga I will board yet another goddamned train on the 24th, & live there for the two days it takes to get to St. Petersburg, where Chris & I will have our glorious reunion. A train to Helsinki & a 23-hour ferry across the Baltic to Rostock will return us to the land of beer, Eurail & 24/7 World Cup madness: Germany!

Of course while I'm off drinking vodka & trying desperately to keep my skinny ass out of some Russian prison in Siberia, Chris has got to be doing something! He & Rosanne will fly from Athina back to Milano, Italy, & then jump a train to Interlaken, Switzerland in the Alps. Kinda jealous about that. After relaxing a few days there goodbyes will be said (most likely long & terribly painful...to watch), & she will head to Paris while Chris will take many, many trains in a mad dash to reach the Russian border by the 24th or the 25th. On the 26th we meet in St. Pete. UNLESS, for some reason, they don't let him in. Not enough hair or something. Should that happen & I can't find him in the train station, we will make our ways separately to Helsinki's main train station & meet under the arrival/departure board. It's foolproof. Too bad we're idiots & not fools.

It has been a long, strange & often awkward and painful trail so far. I have no idea what to expect in Russia. I'm excited, but also anxious. I suppose the unknown will do that to you. Even so I remain obstinately & illogically optimistic. I just hope that doesn't land me in some northeastern Russian work camp.

longest...train ride...ever

2006-07-18T17:46:00.000-06:00

6/19/2006
Athina, Greece to Thessaloniki, Greece

Part 2

Yowzers what a train ride! We are on our way to Thessaloniki...still. On paper we were to arrive at 23.42. It's now 00.08, & I'm pretty sure we still have a ways to go. Fortunately, when we arrive makes no difference to me! Chris & Rosanne are across from me napping in each others' arms (snicker), & I've been singing U2 out the window into the night one car down. Loudly. It's been great!

Earlier was a different story! This train was hotter than the fucking fabled river of fire at the gates of hell! We all were sprawled out, too hot to move, doing our best impressions of drowned dogs. Seriously, I have never seen sweat accumulate on skin that damn fast! I've given up trying to preserve any semblance of cleanliness on my clothing...it's just a lost cause. (Is he drooling in her hair?)

Hot damn I can smell salt in the air! We must be getting kinda-semi-almost close! The inky windows are not exactly helping to verify this, but I know that damn smell! I find it strange that my ears pop every time a speeding train goes through a long tunnel.

Oh no, I'm not bored or anything...

catching some rays

2006-07-18T17:45:00.000-06:00

6/20/2006
Thessaloniki, Greece

HOLY HELL!! IT IS HOT!! AND HUMID!! We are in the middle of Thessaloniki doing our laundry (thank the lord!) for the first time on this trip. Talk about long overdue. That train yesterday was nothing. It is hotter & more humid here than I have EVER experienced! The sweat doesn't stop! It's relentless! Merciless! I've never sweat so much in all my life!

When we finally found this place, called BubbleFish, we had been walking with our packs for maybe 20 minutes. MAYBE. The front of my t-shirt had a few small dry spots near the seam at the bottom edge. The chest, shoulders, stomach & back looked like they had been sprayed down with a hose. Literally. Oh how I wish that had been the case! Unfortunately, no water was involved...only pure, unadulterated essence of Dave. Yummy.

I keep going into the bathroom & splashing cold water all over my face, then rubbing dry with a hand towel. In the time it takes to put the towel down & look back in the mirror my face, my entire, fucking, face, is already wet again. Within 15 to 20 seconds I've already got full droplets rolling down my face. (Is droplets a word, of is the heat affecting my vocabulary?) Pleasant, huh? Damn, I don't even want to imagine Istanbul...

on my own

2006-07-18T17:44:00.000-06:00

6/21/2006, 01.00
Thessaloniki Train/Bus Terminal

The heart is a bloom; shoots up through the stony ground. There's no room. No space to rent in this town. You're out of luck, and the reason that you had to care: the traffic is stuck. You're not moving anywhere. You thought you'd found a friend, to take you out of this place. Someone you could lend a hand in return for grace.
It's a beautiful day. Sky falls, you feel like it's a beautiful day. Don't let it get away.
You're on the road, but you've got no destination. You're in the mud, in the maze of her imagination. You love this town, even if that doesn't ring true. You've been all over, & it's been all over you.
It's a beautiful day. Don't let it get away. It's a beautiful day.
Touch me, take me to that other place. Teach me, I know I'm not a hopeless case.
-U2

Ahhh. After hours of discussion, speculation, planning, replanning & a little crying (not by me) I am, at long last, alone. And it is indeed a beautiful night. Well, except for the ornery gang of rabid cabbies yelling & throwing water bottles at each other a short distance off.

It's a quarter after one in the morning. Chris & Rosanne left on the 22.42 train to Athina about an hour & a half ago (dare you to figure that one out), I chatted with a charming Thessalonikian name Alina (Ellen) about jobs, politics & life for half an hour after that, & now I'm left alone with my thoughts. And the cabbies. Strangely enough, while this was the plan we had settled on before coming here, a great deal has transpired in the interim.

Chris desperately wanted to see Istanbul. After thinking about it all day he made the terribly difficult decision to buy the ticket, scrap his plane ticket to Milano & break the news to Rosanne. She understood, took it with the cool grace most of us can only dream of acquiring & joined us in a last round of cold Mythos beer. The train was scheduled to leave at 20.04. (The cabbies are slowly migrating closer.)

Chris & I remembered that we both had promised Rosanne a letter before we parted. We began writing them. I finished. Chris apparently had more to say. Because 20.00 was approaching quickly, I announced that I would be on the platform & said my goodbye. Let me tell ya, that girl knows how to give hugs!

I found the platform (#1) & the train was there. I waited for Chris. 20.04 came. The train left. 20.04 went. Chris arrived. I had considered boarding without him, & I know he would have understood entirely, but if we are going to part ways on this trip we will make that decision, not a timetable or a train conductor. I'm happy with my choice.

So now here I sit! My bus leaves for Istanbul in just under an hour (02.30) & deposits me among the Turks a little over 12 hours later, around 15.00. Then it's off to the airport to wing my way into the heart of Russia! I wonder when & in what country I'll shower next.

foreigners

2006-07-18T17:42:00.000-06:00

6/21/2006, 13.45
Somewhere in Turkey

I'm not sure how I feel. I'm not sure how I should feel.

I am about one & a half to two hours from Istanbul, in Turkey. We passed through customs without incident. I'm back on the bus after a 30 minute stop for lunch in a city on the coast...what city & which coast I do not know. The city is hot & dirty, but then so am I.

The door of the bus as I stepped off was surrounded by men selling expensive-looking pens & perfumes in boxes. I used the café's bathroom, but nothing else. I didn't eat although it smelled wonderful; all I have on me are a few euros & I'm embarrassed to admit that I don't know what currency is used here. That, & I'm anxious about letting on that I am American, though I'm sure I must stick out like nobody's business. I'm fine living on my mini toasted bagel chips & water for the time being.

Rather than eat, I just sat outside in the shade & smoked. One of my bus mates who boarded with me in Thessaloniki asked me where I was from & I politely smiled & quietly said Chicago in the states. He smiled knowingly, said "ah, America," & turned back to the man with whom he had been chatting (in Greek) to tell him. Neither of them approached me again.

While sitting on the curb, in addition to the many perfume/pen vendors coming & going I watched a young boy of maybe seven or eight years walk up to my brief friend's companion & hold out his hand to ask for one of the potato chips he was eating. He said something in Greek & waved him away. Before I even had time to consider his response callous the boy was joined by five or six others, some younger some older, all holding their hands out. I understood, a fact that pained me.

One of the younger boys then confidently walked to where I was sitting & decisively sat down next to me. He held out his hand & began speaking in what I assumed was Turkish. I smiled & shook my head. He kept speaking but now was pointing to his feet, which were bare. I could think of only one thing to say, which I repeated again & again: je suis desolé. "I'm sorry" in French. Each time he responded with a resounding "huh?". It's comforting to know that some expressions cross all languages.

During our confused & at time desperate exchange, an attendant from the café suddenly began yelling across the parking lot at one of the older boys who had set up a mini makeshift shoeshine stand. He looked less than happy. Ok he looked pissed. He stormed over, cigarette in one hand, yelling & waving his arms. Once again, he didn't have to say "scat" for me to understand his meaning immediately. The boy remained firmly planted on his box, seemingly unphased. The attendant got to where he was sitting, yelled at him for a few seconds more, & then emphasized his point by grabbing the nape of the boy’s neck & violently pushing him forward toward the ground repeatedly. Some of the kids scattered, & my brief Greek friend motioned to me that the bus was preparing to leave. I stood up & slowly followed him back to the bus, shadowed every step of the way by my little barefooted friend, saying presumably everything he could think of to receive any kind of help I could give him. All the way back to the bus, all that I knew to say was je suis desolé.

I feel foreign.

get your shoes!

2006-07-18T17:41:00.001-06:00

6/21/2006, 19.00
Istanbul International Airport

Yup, I'm just sitting here, chillaxin' in the International Airport in Istanbul, Turkey. Honestly, how often does a person get to say that? I mean really.

So Istanbul is the most psychotic, chaotic city I believe I've ever been in. I really wish I could have seen more; as it is, I arrived at the central bus terminal & came directly to the airport. And if you really think it was that simple you'd probably do well here!

The central bus terminal (as it was called) was the strangest definition of the term "central bus terminal" I've seen this side of

Mongolia

. It was indeed laid out in a very centralized sort of way, but the organization - & sanity - ended with the structural design. Try to imagine along with me:

In the center of the complex is one mammoth, two-story building. I think the second story is office space. I would give you a shape, but I don't believe the shape in which it's built exists in this dimension. On all sides of it are sidewalks ending at walls, parking lots with no visible entrances or exits, & kiosks selling wares so random that even the most ardent packrat would flee in terror. Beyond the wayward lots are five or six structures resembling strip malls straight out of a Dr. Seuss book. These form the outer perimeter to the central bus terminal complex, with hundreds, nay millions of busses around the outside. And that, my friends, is the physical layout. Now it gets REALLY fun!

The strip malls contain every variety of bus company known to Turkish-kind, each one trying desperately to outdo & outshine its neighbors' billboards. The busses for each company line up on the outside of the strip mall behind their company's respective storefront. There is no central information office. There is no central ticket office. If you want to go somewhere you just have to search each storefront until you find a company with a bus that goes where you want to go. Talk about discouraging shopping around. But if you think that's fun, that's just a picnic in the park with a friend or loved one compared to what's next!

We're now at the geometrically-disinclined central building. The inside of this fucker is a rat's nest combined with an ant farm designed by a 15-year-old architect on LSD, & is overflowing with closet-sized shops, mini restaurants & enough Turks to choke a herd of long-haired Mongolian llamas. Also buried at one end is the entrance to the Istanbul metro system. Speaking as a marketer, it is downright astonishing & damn near unbelievable that all of these shops manage to stay in business simultaneously. I say that because, aside from the occasional random Turkish souvenir, they all sold one or more of the exact same things: shoes, blue jeans, & hand guns. Oh, a few of the swankier places sported cameras & knives too. After extensive searching, including a pointless stop at the Istanbul Metropolitan Municipality Public Affairs office (where none of the four men & one boy spoke a word of English) I managed to stumble across a currency exchange office tucked between two identical gun shops. Incidentally, they use the Turkish lira.

I feel now is an appropriate time to mention that NOBODY in this damn city speaks a lick of English. I mean it's ok, they're not required to; it is their country after all. But it sure is unnerving, to say the least. The best I found were two men who recognized the word "airport." Thank god for little miracles! Oh yeah, nothing is written in English either. Even signs that look important & have the same message written in 52 different languages (or maybe just six or seven) don't have an English version. It's strange not being able to talk to anyone.

At long last one of the men who recognized "airport" pointed & said "metro," & I was on my way. I arrived (obviously), but not before taking two different trains back & forth a few times in an attempt to figure out the mid-line transfer system not indicated in the in-train map of stops. And now here I sit. I'm checked in, & preparing myself for the unknown that is the security checkpoint &, after that, Russian customs. Hold me...?

the modern russian idiot

2006-07-18T17:38:00.000-06:00

6/23/2006, 18.35
Chelyabinsk, Russia

There is absolutely no logical reason behind my making it here. I should either be roaming the countryside, half starved, somewhere near Ekaterinburg, or dead. I know what happened & even I don't believe it!

The flight from Istanbul to Ekaterinburg went swimmingly; they even served a Turkish meal! As we were getting close I began looking out the window. It was breathtaking! Miles & miles of rivers & the greenest forests I think I've ever seen. It was overcast & slightly rainy, so the trees disappeared into the mist near the horizon.

As I was trying to get my breath back I realized, while absolutely stunning & remote...it was a little too remote. We were about to touch down at the international airport of this major hub city of the Urals, & yet no city was in sight! I grew anxious.

Surprisingly, passport control & customs was easy! I breezed right through; no inquiries, no unpacking, nothing. I kinda felt like I cheated. Of course, that still left me in a Russian airport in the middle of (beautiful) nowhere.

Luckily, I found the Ekaterinburg Tourist Office & the two there spoke English. I explained my situation & they told me everything I needed to know: the bus to the city (1h 15m long!), the best way to get to Chelyabinsk, even a hand-drawn map showing the route from the last bus stop to the place to buy a bus ticket to Chelyabinsk! They were wonderful!

Now begins a long day filled with embarrassment, awkwardness, pain, & unrivaled humiliation. Got a lot of that last one. Women & children may want to look away. Oh screw it, this isn't decent reading for anyone. Just leave now.

I circled the airport parking lot a few times until I found the bus stop & took off my pack to sit on. More than in any other country I've been in, people in this country really like to stare. Just like in Turkey nobody here speaks English, but while in Turkey when they find out you speak English they just look confused, shrug & leave you alone, In Russia they laugh at you. Loudly. So much for Russians not smiling. (Actually that still is kinda true...just not when they're laughing at you.)

The bus came, I got on near the back, & the bus went. It was big, old, packed & gave me cold war flashes. And I had no idea how to pay. Assuming payment was made near the front, I pissed off everyone by squeezing myself & my pack all the way up. Nothing. Now I was scared. Did I have to buy a ticket prior to getting on? I had a few rubles on me from the euros I exchanged in the airport bank, but I hadn't seen anything remotely resembling a ticket office or machine. Was I going to get arrested for stealing bus time?

As these thoughts were milling about in my head, a shorter woman with bright red hair (colored) & a blue & red sportsuit pushed her way through the crowd to me. It looked like she was telling me (loudly) how to pay, & a polite (quieter) business woman next to me was trying to explain. Of course every bit of it was in Russian. By now the entire bus was staring at me. Awkward.

Finally I noticed the short (louder) woman was wearing a fanny pack containing money & tickets! Thank god, because I was about to jump out the window. I paid her (by handing her all my money & letting her take out what she needed), got my ticket, & she left me alone. The bus kept staring. About 30 minutes into the ride the polite (quieter) business woman got off. Before making her way to the door though, she turned to me & said in a thick Russian accent "good luck." It made me smile. Then again she could have been mocking me.

I made it to my stop in downtown Ekaterinburg & thankfully got off the bus. I followed the map & sure enough ended up at the bus terminal. It was a very skillfully drawn map. Then I spent 20 minutes unsuccessfully searching for an ATM. Ironically, once I stopped looking it was the first thing I saw upon entering the bus terminal. I hate that. Fortunately though, I did not feel as though the 20 prior minutes had been in vain; it was broken. So I said fuck it & went to find out the price & see if they accepted credit cards. Had I known what was in store I would have walked the four-hour bus ride to Chelyabinsk.

There were about nine different ticket counters, each with the names of the cities they sold tickets to written above. In Russian. No phonetic help there. So I walked up to one, handed her the piece of paper that said "bilet do Chelyabinska" (ticket to Chelyabinsk) given to me by the tourist office at the airport, & held up one finger. She looked at it, then shrugged & handed it to the young woman behind the counter next to her. I moved over. She began speaking to me in Russian. Fast Russian. I looked at her apologetically & shrugged, a gesture I thought was internationally understood as "I'm sorry for being a dumbass & not understanding your language before visiting your country." It seems as if the knife-wielding sicilian is better versed in international body language than I...she began speaking louder & slower. Let me tell you, that sure helped a bunch.

After about ten minutes of feeling like a complete jackass (& 9 minutes 48 seconds of the entire waiting room glaring at me), I finally got her to write down a price: 232 rubles. I had 130 rubles in my pocket. So I held up my debit card, pointed in the direction of the broken ATM & held up one finger to say I'd be right back. She didn't get it. I tried again. She didn't get it again. You know what they say about insanity, right? I tried one more time. And one more time, she didn't get it. I ran away. I just wanted out of the situation & away from the position of Official Waiting Room Peep Show.

Things began to look up when I got back to the ATM & saw that it was being fixed. Score! Of course I had no idea how long it would be, but at this point I didn't care. I just found myself a nice, out of the way corner to use as a vantage point & started waiting. For three minutes. That's how long it took for the young woman from behind the counter to find me. She spoke some more in Russian & then stopped, as if waiting for an answer. I felt like a disobedient child. Having given up all hope, I half-heartedly motioned towards the ATM. She said something else, followed by what I'm guessing was the Russian equivalent of "come on" accompanied by a wave of her hand.

And we were off! The pace of this young woman's walk surely would give most long-legged African sprinters a run for their money, no pun intended! We left the bus terminal & walked down the front stairs, through the plaza, across the street, & descended down into a dark metro station where I was pretty certain she was going to kill me. After turning some corners, presumably to lose any witnesses that happened to be following, she stopped & pointed at an ATM! Had I not been feeling the overwhelming relief a condemned feels when pardoned I swear I would have kissed her full on the mouth. I got the money I needed, returned to the terminal & bought my ticket. Of course doing so for some reason involved walking all over the terminal & being left alone standing in the corner of a room while some soldiers stared, made jokes about me, called the girls from the next room in to tell them the jokes they had just made up, & all pointed & had a merry old time blatantly laughing at me. I smiled at them & died on the inside more than a little bit. I don't think I've ever truly known what it meant to be humbled until that moment.

I finally boarded the bus & rode it for four hours or so until I was kicked off at the last stop in what I prayed was Chelyabinsk. Nobody, including the driver, could verify this in any language other than Russian, which left me with little recourse but to trust the young woman who sold me the ticket. After spending ten minutes warding off a terrifying one-eyed homeless woman who thought I was a deaf Frenchman & her baby, I spent the next hour aimlessly wandering around the city. What I was looking for I could not say; maybe I was looking for verification that I was in the right city, maybe validation that I still was indeed a good person, maybe I was just hoping to run into Olga. I realized a few things during this time: first, Russian pay phones aren't. Pay I mean. I had change & Olga's cell number, but public phones required some sort of special calling card which nobody seemed to sell. And second, I didn't even know the Russian word for hotel! That's the problem with traveling to countries that use an entirely different alphabet: you can't sound words out.

Eventually I wandered into an internet café & checked my email. Olga had written to me the day before & suggested I take a taxi from the bus terminal to her apartment. Talk about a great idea! If I was indeed in the right city. I ran out & found the fourth taxi I saw (I still had a bit of trepidation about talking to anyone). After some slight confusion over the different characters used to write out her address, we were off!

He dropped me off in front of a big building that had the correct address number on it. We bartered over the price, I overpaid him, & found the entrance. I battled with the call box from a war-torn future until somebody kinda let me in, & I ascended the frighteningly dark, dirty cement stairwell until I found the door that logically should have been hers...there was no number on or near it. Mentally preparing myself to be shot, I rang the doorbell.

I was met with silence, & then some stirring from within. Then more stirring. Then more. A male voice called out something in Russian (again, big surprise) & I responded by calling back "Olga Balovneva?". 92 locks could be heard being withdrawn, & the door opened to reveal a young man of about 19. Literally. He was wearing a Corner Bakery t-shirt & nothing else (presumably underwear). Behind him was a kind-looking man in his 40's wearing pants & no shirt & behind him, peaking out from another room, was Olga (who, after squealing, disappeared momentarily to put something else on...I didn't ask what she had been wearing)! Words cannot express the relief I felt! I was introduced to all: Sasha, Olga's younger brother & Misha, her father. Her mother, Irina, would join us from Plast (their hometown) later in the evening. Promptly after introductions Sasha, now fully clothed, ran into the hall to snap my picture, thus beginning a three-day candid photo battle between the two of us. After an invigoratingly-frigid shower (the hot water was off for maintenance) & a shave, the evening was spent in hospitality rivaled by none! Except maybe mom's, which certainly is saying something.

motherfuckin' huge!

2006-07-18T17:37:00.000-06:00

6/27/2006, 16.30
St. Petersburg, Russia to Helsinki, Finland

What an absolutely fascinating country! Fascinating, & yet terrifying at the same time. I am relieved to be departing for countries easier to navigate, but sad to be leaving with so much here still a mystery to me. While this portion of my trip easily has been the most unsettling & uncomfortable (mentally), it also has been by far the most thought-provoking & joyous. Everything they say about Russian hospitality & more is true! I only wish I had enough paper & ink to record everything! Ok...so technically pencil lead 0.5, not ink, but tell me how that's romantic.

In keeping with (what I was told is) Russian tradition, as the guest I was not allowed to do any work whatsoever. I still cannot get used to this idea. They fixed my very comfy makeshift bed up in Sasha's room, Irina cooked for & cleaned after every meal, the person closest to the kettle poured my tea, & I was constantly urged to ask for anything I wanted, even though I given all that I needed & more. At each meal, & sometimes in between, Irina & I battled tooth & nail: she to ensure I was not starved & I to keep from bursting. Although slightly embarrassing, it was always very flattering. Every time without fail, upon sitting for a meal a helping twice the size of all others was placed in front of me. It truly was a struggle to eat everything that was given, regardless of how good it all was. Even more difficult was expressing this sentiment to a woman who was so proud to have a foreign traveler in her home, & an American one at that, through a translator. Olga was the most fluent in English in the family, with Sasha not too far behind. Neither Misha nor Irina spoke any English, save for the occasional "hello" or "thank you" taught to them by Olga or Sasha & reproduced at the appropriate time. Fortunately, according to Irina, by the end of my visit my cheeks had a healthier glow to them.

Friday the 23rd was definitely a special day. I had the distinct honor of watching Olga receive her diploma from university with her family! I enjoyed it immensely! It took place at her & Sasha's university, in one of the large lecture halls. Because it was the ceremony only for the college of languages, there were a handful of student presentations to go along with it: a flamenco dancer representing the Spanish students, a girl singing a lovely ballad in French, etc. I'm not sure if they had anything representing English (if they did I missed it), & unfortunately Olga did not present anything. Besides herself of course, which was more than adequate! After the graduation, she went off for some much deserved celebrating with her fellow graduates, & I checked out downtown Chelyabinsk & it's parks with Sasha & a friend of his. It really is a great place, & the parks are killer! More like stationary carnivals they've got rides, booths for food & drink, fountains, games, lakes, even tented nightclubs! Needless to say I was more than impressed. I did find it a bit strange that, while still a Friday, everyone was out drinking & carrying on so early in the evening. The sun hadn't even set yet, & the clubs were packed with revelers drinking & dancing. The feeling quickly changed to weird surprise when I found that it was already 10:45 at night, despite the sun still being visible! Being significantly higher on the globe than one is used to really will mess with one's head, let me tell you! We eventually went home, had a late dinner followed by tea, & went to bed. Olga was still out celebrating!

We slept in on Saturday, which felt lovely. I arose around 11:30 or so, milled about for a bit, then had lunch & tea. Sasha was tired & went down for a nap. I chatted lazily with Olga for a bit, talked about what to do that evening, then went to write while she took a 30-minute nap. That was a mistake. About four hours later we all emerged, embarrassed but refreshed from our respective reposes. I took another muscle-seizing shower, we had dinner, tea, then Olga & I left for her friend's low-key birthday party...but not before finding a present! We dropped in on some shops across the street to find something small to give. Having never met the chap, but been told he really does not have any hobbies, I'm afraid I was not much help. After looking around (& receiving more shy, uncomfortable stares from everyone who heard Olga speak to me in English), we finally settled on a porcelain piece from which scented oil was heated & distributed into the air by way of a candle below. It was very nice, & quite cute!

After ringing the bell at her friend's apartment we were greeted with a standard answering machine message followed by a beep. I love a good sense of humor! We were buzzed in shortly thereafter. These two were a riot! Sasha (another) & the girl whose name I hate that I've forgotten were totally the typical college students...just with a Russian flair. Just younger than me they were funny, great hosts, & he even had a healthy interest in computers! I knew it. Girls never consider computers a hobby! We had dinner, cake & tea (noticing a trend yet?), then went for a nice stroll through the park, ending at Olga's & my bus stop.

On Sunday, once again, we slept in. I'm totally diggin' this part of Russian culture! This day, however, was a national holiday: National Youth Day! Why don't we have one of these?? After lunch & tea Olga & I visited the bank & the train ticket office to get my plans set. We found a Chelyabinsk/St. Petersburg express leaving at 8:30 that night; I bought a 2nd class (kupé) ticket. We were met outside by Vitale, her boyfriend, & a good friend of his, Katya, & walked downtown to a wonderful walking mall where we met Sasha (the bro) & Katya's boyfriend. What a great group! We watched some break dancing, saw a local band, some extreme bikers & skateboarders, & ended at a local pizza joint eating fries & pizza & drinking beers. The whole group opted to join me in shopping for food for my journey north, then volunteered to hang out & wait at the train station while Olga, Sasha & I returned home for me to shower & pack. How wonderfully bizarre to feel so close to people with whom you've never spoken directly! Returning to the train station, late, quick goodbyes were said, they stood outside of my compartment window until the train pulled away, & I was on my own once again, this time without the loneliness.

The train north to St. Petersburg was surreal to put it mildly. It began with sharing a four-person compartment with the oddest of couples: Sasha (yet again) - a rough-looking 28 year-old who spoke practically no English, returning home (some town about 12 hours away) & Natasha - his 19 year-old lover who was more than happy to sit by as he showed me pictures of his wife back home & quiet down when she called his cell phone. We played at communicating by using my very limited English/Russian Russian/English dictionary for awhile, then he urged me to join them in the dining car because one of the waitresses spoke English & insisted upon buying me a shot of vodka - Russian Standard. I gotta say it's weird to have a man, Russian or otherwise, talk to you about his wife while kissing & cuddling with his lover who is ten years the minor. When in Russia...

They left early Monday morning. They woke me to say goodbye, & I rejoiced at having my own compartment! I lay on my top bunk, shirtless (as he had been), tangled up in the sheet & contently munched on my loaf of bread. Plus, as embarrassed as I am to admit this, having just woken up I was incredibly uncomfortable from gas...probably from the fries & pizza the night before...& it was an enormous relief to rid myself of that without having to put on my shirt & shoes & making the trek to the bathroom. Then the door opened. In walked a gruff-looking man in his 50's followed by two pretty teenage girls. This is precisely the point at which I desperately wished Sasha & Natasha had robbed & killed me in the night. I threw on my shirt. The girls giggled. The man looked uncomfortable. He said something in Russian, I half-smiled & mumbled "angliski?", the girls giggled, he looked more uncomfortable. He asked one of the girls something, she whispered a response, & he turned to me with his hands on one of each of the girls' shoulders & said with some difficulty "my daughters. Very good speak English." Sweet lord almighty kill me now. This poor man has to send his young, pretty daughters all the way to St. Petersburg with a dirty, smelly foreigner who has an affinity for taking off his clothes. He didn't exactly look pleased with the situation. Before the train pulled out they all left, presumably to say their goodbyes in a more suitable atmosphere. Exactly three seconds after the door shut, gales of girlish laughter wafted through the entire car. I hid under my sheet.

The rest of the trip to St. Pete was uneventful, quiet, & as awkward as the day is long, with my two cabinmates whispering (in Russian) & giggling uncontrollably if I so much as shifted on my bunk. I spent most of it drifting in & out of sleep with no sense of time or place (the curtains were shut so I couldn't even tell if it was day or night), having dreams ranging from being home in Chicago to meeting up with Chris to being held prisoner on a distant planet by creatures reminiscent of the bad guys from "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" for some insignificant crime I didn't commit. That last one included a hair-raising roller coaster sequence & even had it's own soundtrack borrowed from the funky Russian rock music being piped into the compartment through the speaker on the ceiling...right next to which I was sleeping. I think I was hungry.

At long last we arrived in St. Pete! The girls vacated the second the train stopped moving & I purchased my ticket to Helsinki with little trouble (special thanks to the kind Russian man in line behind me who acted as translator at the ticket window & even held my place in line as I ran to the ATM!). Once again passport control & customs were surprisingly a breeze, leaving me with nothing to worry about all the way to Helsinki. It was pricier than I would have liked (to say the least), but I had made it through the most foreign & inaccessible country on this trip! I think I'll buy myself a candy bar tonight in celebration. Mmmmm...Ritter Sport...

so pedestrian

2006-07-18T17:35:00.000-06:00

6/28/2006, 13.35
Helsinki, Finland to Hanko, Finland

I have come to a rather obvious conclusion: everywhere is beautiful. I know I know, it sounds stupid & sappy, but I bring it up because everywhere I go I inevitably at some point write "[insert random country here] is beautiful!!", or something akin to that. Honestly it's getting to be a waste of time & pencil lead 0.5 (told ya, no romance). It's time to shake things up a bit, even if it means (gasp) lying through my teeth!

Finland is a bore. Even after getting a full night's sleep last night the Finnish countryside with it's towering forests, cute little towns, dramatic coastlines & sprawling fields overflowing with the brightest of yellow flowers succeeds only in making me yawn as it passes lazily by the train window. The friendly, helpful & always smiling...um, Fins(?)...could be a bit more exciting as well. This country is in dire need of some neon lights, guns & explosions to break it out of the peaceful & serene rut it's gotten itself into.

waxing poetic

2006-07-18T17:34:00.001-06:00

6/28/2006, 18.20
Hanko, Finland

I'm just sittin' on the dock of the bay, wastin' time.

I am coming back to this charming little town! With a population of around 10,000 this place is so welcoming; there are bed & breakfasts & rooms to let everywhere! Everybody smiles at you, & everyone with whom I've spoken has been friendly & as helpful as they possibly could. Did I mention it's beautiful?

From the map at the train station I was able to locate two ports. I picked one & walked across town to it, & it turned out to be the industrial shipping center. Oops. On the plus side right next to it I found an enormous, killer beach that had, you ready for this, ONE PERSON on it! I swear, this beach stretched practically to the horizon! Also helpful was the fact that I could see the Superfast Ferry I would be taking to Germany in dock due east, so I knew where I was headed. Kind of.

I left my beach & ended up walking for about 20 minutes along an empty train track through the prettiest trees EVER! Eventually I found the ticket office, hung out in the sun until it opened at 17.30, & got my cabin booked all the way to Rostock, Germany. I would write about the Baltic Sea, which I'm looking at as I sit here, but I just can't imagine how I even would begin to describe it. Besides wet. Instead, I'll leave you with this thought: do you suppose being closer to the North Pole has anything to do with the sun being so goddamned bright here?

happiness is...

2006-07-18T17:33:00.000-06:00

6/28/2006, 23.00
Baltic Sea

I am completely happy right now! I'm sitting in the Royal Panoramic Lounge on the official ferry (which is closer to a cruise ship) for couples over 60 with my brand spanking new Baltic Windsweep TM hairstyle drinking cheap beer on my way to meet Chris in Rostock while listening to a cheesy lounge singer play his double Casio keyboards complete with canned backup beats & sing "Blue Moon" with a Finnish accent. At this moment life is absolutely perfect! Honestly, I couldn't tell you why...it just is. And really, I don't care why. Who cares why? Fuck why! To hell with why! Why killed my father & raped my mother!

I feel like I've been looking for something on this trip. I don't know what - meaning, purpose, myself, rubies, that sort of thing - just something. As of tonight that search, whatever it's been for, is over. Kinda late in the game, I know, but better late than never, right? Unless we're talking herpes of course. Never with herpes would suit me just fine. (Awww, now he's singing "What a Wonderful World!")

And so, now that it is just slightly after midnight (& still a bit light outside) & I have to piss like an elderly racehorse with a bladder infection, I'm off to bed. Goodnight!

our lord & savior...

2006-07-18T17:32:00.006-06:00

6/29/2006, 12.40
Baltic Sea

I'm worried about one of my cabinmates - I think there is something seriously wrong with him & I'm not sure he knows it. What does one do in this situation? Does one say something? I don't even know what language the poor bastard speaks.

Hour after hour after god-forsaken hour last night, as I was attempting to drift off to sleep while innocently indulging in a few sexual fantasies, the unearthly sounds emanating from this man's head & throat resembled more creatures - both real & fantasy alike - than I am comfortable being familiar with. Never in my life have I heard such decibels achieved with the human sinuses. From dying dogs (multiple breeds & sizes) to battling sea creatures to sea gulls in heat (individuals & entire flocks at once) to the demonic Balrog made famous in J.R.R. Tolken's "The Fellowship of the Ring" auditioning for a college a cappella group, this man of twisted talent never wanted for a creative new sadistic impression to impose upon & yank me from my lurid imagination. (Why is that tiny sailboat in the middle of the Baltic Sea with no land in sight?) Seriously, what's a priest's kid got to do for a little alone time in his own damn head? (There's another one!)

For awhile I took the high road. After all, he wasn't exactly trying to be a nuisance, & I'm sure if he was aware someone was being kept awake by his late-night impressions of miniature woodland creatures in the throes of physical passion he'd be mortified & more than a little apologetic. After three hours I realized the high road is overrated. I began making little noises with the hope that he would rouse slightly, only slightly, & shift, maybe roll over or something. That's worked brilliantly in the past. No dice. I slowly began upping the ante by clearing my throat & coughing. I succeeded in giving myself a sore throat & nothing more.

This game continued for an hour or so (I think, although I have little concept of time in the complete absence of light) - me gradually upping the stakes (damn, what's with all the gambling references today?) as he mercilessly continued creating new, pissed-off sounding creatures to imitate. Finally I found myself speaking to him in full voice - arrete sil vous plais! (please stop!) - & giving him the honor of full-force, full-volume applause. Aside from the occasional scratch or the courtesy of a single (comparably) silent breath, nothing! Absolutely nothing! This man's ability to sleep was inhuman! It's quite obvious he's never known what it feels like to have assassins on his trail. Poor fool.

FINALLY I hit upon something that worked - a noise to which every person, human or in, is hardwired to pay attention: urgent knocking. Being on a top bunk I quickly rapped four or five times on the ceiling & he immediately awoke. I could picture him sitting up halfway in his bed, eyebrows furrowed, wondering if someone just knocked on his door & listening for any indication of a body in the hallway. Peace!! For a total of five minutes, after which he was right back at it. And as tired & frustrated as I was, I just didn't have the heart to do it again. It really wasn't his fault, & the only way for it to stay quiet was to keep him awake all night, & snoring or not he didn't deserve that. Of course neither did I, but really what was I to do? I tried sticking my head under my pillow, but the offensive nasal onslaught easily permeated that flimsy defense. Plus after only a few minutes my entire head was sweating like an eskimo in a sauna during the month of July...in hell. Scratch that idea.

And then, when I thought all was lost, out of nowhere it happened. Like the instantaneous realization of the meaning of the world's one true religion (I'll tell you later), I remember Virgin Atlantic Airlines. Like a holy savior appearing during a time of war, famine & broken Linkin' Logs (remember those!), the sudden memory of that blessed company's benevolence & generosity swept through my poor, soulless, sleep-deprived mind. More specifically, it was the complimentary packet they bestowed upon me & all their passengers during the flight from Boston Logan International Airport to London Heathrow International Airport that filled me with hope - a packet that contained a toothbrush, toothpaste, a pen, a needy children change donation envelope, a sleeping mask...& earplugs! Salvation! (Hell yeah, the piano player is back!) It wasn't easy descending from my ceiling perch, extracting my pack from beneath his bed, & digging all the way to the bottom of it through my few but tightly-packed belongings all in absolute blindness, but acquiring things of such value - like the holy grail - rarely is. Having never slept with or even used earplugs before they did take some getting used to, but believe me when I say I was more than up to the challenge. It wasn't more than ten minutes before I was blissfully drifting off into sweet, sweet unconsciousness, pleasantly accompanied by the climactic (no pun intended) continuation of my earlier adult-oriented imaginings. I slept without interruption until just after 11.00 this morning. Let us rejoice & sing praises unto you, our Lord & Savior, the Virgin Atlantic Earplugs. (This took an hour & 50 minutes to write! Wow!)

brainstorming

2006-07-18T17:28:00.000-06:00

6/29/2006, 14.35
Baltic Sea

Boy, you sure can tell I'm on my own. I've written more during the one week spent by myself than I did during the first three weeks spent with Chris & Rosanne; 17 pages to the first 10 & still going! This bit may or may not interest anyone but me...actually this bit may or may not even get posted. It's really just random brainstorming about work (City Club) for when I return. In fact I may (gasp) not even use proper grammar or full sentences. Did you know that when I was young, for some strange reason I never could remember how to spell the word sentence? It was weird, my spelling was always impeccable (I don't think that's spelled right...), but I could not for anything spell that damn word! To this day knowing that it's use is approaching in my writing fills me with anxiety, even though I know, & have known for years, perfectly well how it's spelled. Sentence. Sentences. Crap. I've thought about it too much & now it doesn't look right. Enough of this torture.

Two weekly staff meetings: Monday & Friday mornings.

Monday meeting:
1. Membership
a. current membership - by type & overall total
b. previous week's total; did we increase or decrease?
c. how far are we from our next membership goal? how long do we have left?

2. Events
a. upcoming - status; rsvp totals; receivable totals; upcoming due dates; waitlists
b. week's events (if applicable) - preparedness; assignments; outstanding issues

3. Week's individual projects
a. ongoing/long-term projects - status; anticipated completion; problems?
b. new projects (if applicable)

Friday meeting:
1. Membership
a. current membership - by type & overall total
b. how far are we from our next membership goal? how long do we have left?
c. any member incidents - good or bad - of interest from the week?

2. Events
a. upcoming - status of & change from Monday in: rsvp totals, receivables, waitlists
b. next week's events (if applicable) - preparedness; total(s); general overview
c. current week's events (if applicable) - post-event report*; receivables; problems/praises

3. Week's individual projects
a. short-term - status/post-project reports; problems or roadblocks?
b. long-term - status reports; anticipated completion; problems or roadblocks?

*Post-event reports - total attendance; total payments made at door (including separate cash & check totals); any attendee complaints/compliments?; what went wrong? why? how & by whom was it handled?; what worked well? why?; did anything unexpected happen? will it likely happen again? how should it be planned for?

My work day needs to begin at 08.00 from now on.

...and that's that! I am pleased.

shameful

2006-07-18T17:27:00.000-06:00

6/29/2006, 19.30
Baltic Sea (~one & a half hours from the German frontier)

With my head hung in humility, I respectfully & apologetically retract the insensitive & inaccurate comments I made last night regarding the very talented Royal Panoramic Lounge singer. They were based entirely upon speculation with absolutely no basis in fact, & I sincerely regret & humbly apologize for any pain or suffering my callous remarks may have caused his friends or family, should he happen to have either &, through some cosmic miracle, they have happened to read this. They were completely uncalled for & nothing more than the jealous rantings of an uneducated, illiterate son of a bitch. Our crooning friend is playing one Technics brand piano & one Yamaha brand piano, not two Casios as was cruelly stated last night, & truth be told he can play one mean saxophone on that Technics! I feel terrible. As restitution (a word I'm more familiar with than I'd like), I'm going to steal this pint glass. (Ok, I do have to mention that he really is very good. He's got a good voice & he kicks ass on the ivories...so to speak! I wouldn't want to give him a bad rap.)

And there's Rostock! I think! At least that's the city we're headed for. Does Rostock have a nuclear power plant?

my problems

2006-07-18T17:26:00.000-06:00

6/30/2006, 14.10
Rostock, Germany to Berlin, Germany

This train defines "packed." We are on our way to Berlin, Germany, where as luck would have it the 2nd & 3rd rated football teams in the World Cup - Argentina & Germany - are going head to head this afternoon. The last game Germany won prompted over one million people to flood the streets, effectively shutting Berlin down temporarily. This is a quarter-final game; the team that loses is out of the World Cup. The team that wins is in the finals. Adding to the chaotic patriotism is the fact that most of Germany's national team is made up of players from the Berlin team...these are local boys! I hope Germany wins.

I disembarked from the ferry last night around 21.00, & after wandering aimlessly for 20 minutes or so wondering where in the world (literally) Chris & Jason were, they triumphantly appeared on the horizon! In armor. On horseback. Playing, um, lutes. Not really. Really they just rounded the Fiat at the end of the Superfast Ferries parking lot. But it FELT that epic to finally meet again!

We took the short train to downtown Rostock to the central train station with the intent of heading right for Berlin. Sadly, we had missed the last train of the night, so instead we got a double at the InterCity Hotel next door & stayed the night. Chris & I were up talking in the hall until four a.m. It felt good to talk with him again.

Traveling with Jason is going to be interesting. He's already told me straight out he has no problem being the "stupid American." I have a problem with him being the "stupid American," as does Chris. Also, he has no opinions. No preferences. He has no drive or passion. He just doesn't care. Seemingly about anything (except computer games). He doesn't care if people don't like him. He doesn't care if he bothers, offends or pisses people off. It just could not mean any less to him. I have a problem with that.

cops with beers

2006-07-18T17:23:00.000-06:00

7/1/2006, 02.00
Berlin, Germany

Ole, ole ole ole! Ole, ole! Deutschland!!

This has been the best, most thrilling night I've had in ages! Germany beat Argentina in the quarter-finals, & mass hysteria ensued! We watched it in an outdoor Indian restaurant, drinking beer & eating naan, & after ending the 90-minute game at 1-1, going into a 15-minute overtime, then going into another 15-minute overtime, Germany ended up blocking two of Argentina's penalty shots & won 5-3! Chris & I (along with everyone else in the city) leapt out of our seats screaming & gave each other a huge hug complete with vigorous back-slapping. What a fucking rush!

After that it was every German for himself. Everywhere were people waving flags, screaming, drinking & honking their car horns...occasionally all at once. We went uptown to Alexanderplatz & found the real party. Not before we lost each other again though. Jason decided to try to switch cars on the metro just before the doors closed & got shut out. The end result (after much running around) was he & I together without Chris. Needless to say, a thoroughly unacceptable outcome. We searched for awhile, until I finally decided that we were going to forget the metro & hit the streets. All three of us knew where the hostel was & had a key, & the biggest party in the world that night was going on above our heads & I was going to be damned if I missed it! We hit the streets. While marching (& screaming, & chanting, & jumping up & down), I could not shake the feeling that Chris & I would find each other. Why, you ask, in the center of a foreign capitol city amongst throngs & throngs of crazed, celebrating, drunken Germans did I even for a moment entertain such an inconceivable fantasy? Simply because of the idiocy & pure illogicality of such a thing happening. Practically everything that has come to pass so far on this trip has made no sense & defied all logic. Why should tonight be any different? Sure enough, after walking for only 20 minutes in one direction then back, I was standing on two planters videotaping a parade being led by drummers when I spotted him: Deutschland scarf around his neck, black, red & yellow clown wig on his head, marching right along with everyone else. Now that was a reunion! Fuck you logic!

The rest of the evening until around one a.m. was spent drinking, dancing, running from the polizei & contributing to the general chaotic merriment at Alexanderplatz. It was an excellent party, to say the least. And the polizei? Well, a few of us took it upon ourselves to scale the building overlooking the impromptu dance floor like superheroes - complete with capes made from German flags fluttering around our necks - to continue dancing accompanied by the roars of approval from the crowds below. As fun as it was, it took the polizei only minutes to begin streaming towards us. Ah well, it was a good time while it lasted. We scrambled back down the other side as they were reaching for our ankles, putting a brick wall between them & us, & scattered off into the crowd. A good thing too, considering that we had around €70 of stolen shit on us! Wristbands, flags, wigs, scarves, beers, face paint - none of it bought. It was overpriced anyway.

After getting back Jason promptly went to bed - again - & Chris & I came out to the lounge to chat some more & check out the pictures from the evening. I got some good ones!

clowning around

2006-07-18T17:22:00.000-06:00

7/3/2006, 11.40
Praha, Czech Republic to Dresden, Germany

What to say about the two nights spent in Praha (Prague), Czech Republic? I had a good time in Praha for the most part. We arrived midday on Saturday the 1st & walked from the train station to the Elf Hostel - our intended home for the next two nights - only to find them booked solid. Being the nice front desk lady that she was, she phoned another hostel near the city centre & placed reservations for us. However, as seems to be the theme for this trip, we got sidetracked promptly after emerging onto the street, & ultimately ended up at a closer one: The Clown & Bard Hostel. Appropriate I thought!

Simply put, the Clown & Bard rocked! Nice people, free 15 minutes of internet per day, 10 minutes from the central train station, kickass rooms with lofts (where I slept!), free breakfast until one p.m., & a very smooth bar in the basement where they projected the World Cup games onto the wall. Plus, it's called the fucking Clown & Bard. For Chris & I there are no better titles! I was upset the first night we hung out in the bar because, while they did indeed serve beer, both taps poured Budweiser. There's some serious disillusionment for you. I was beyond startled when I drank it though...it was really good! It was at that point that Chris taught me the history of our country's beloved piss-beer. Apparently Budweiser originated in the Czech Republic as a very good beer, & it's still brewed there just as it was when it was created. Then, because it was so popular, they just sold the name to the American company that we all know & hate, & viola! Two totally different beers in two totally different countries! Neat huh?

Unfortunately, that is the best story I came away from Praha with. It's a nice city, very beautiful (as they all seem to be), but really nothing extraordinary - or even all that noteworthy - happened during our brief time there. We walked around the city sightseeing for most of the one full day we were there, stayed up late drinking & chatting that night in the bar, & then took the first train we could catch to Dresden, Germany this morning. And that's that. Captivating, huh? I will say though that I really got a better sense of just how difficult it is to walk on cobblestones for an extended period of time while there. Those little bastards really fuck with your legs...

drained

2006-07-18T17:20:00.000-06:00

7/7/2006, 13.30
Dresden, Germany to Frankfurt, Germany

I have neglected my writing this week, but with good reason. Because we leave three days from now Dresden, Germany has become the last major place in which we will spend any significant amount of time on this trip - our last wild fling during travels that quickly became more like fantasy than reality. The four short days I spent in this city meeting Chris' friends from two years ago truly have been wilder, crazier, & more tiring, romantic, confusing, unnerving, stressful, emotional & fun then all of the rest of this trip combined.

I'm exhausted - from Monday though today, Friday, I've slept less than 12 hours & partied harder than I have in a long time every night save for Wednesday, the night that I didn't sleep at all.

I'm overwhelmed - the emotions I've experience for & from others have been vastly wide-ranged & phenomenally strong, & they've grown more quickly than is normal or than I'm used to.

I'm humbled - of the many people I met not one was any less than remarkable; although eclectic & varied in their strengths, weaknesses & personalities not one failed to be warm, open, or genuine in their willingness & desire to open their hearts to me completely & invite me fully into their lives. I can't remember any other time in my life that I not only gained so many close, close friends in such a short period of time, but I also became a close & trusted friend to so many outstanding people.

I'm sad - to be suddenly so close to so many, it hurts me to have to leave them so soon.

I'm scared - I don't know how I'll feel to return to the place where I've felt such isolation in the past after showing & being shown such unrestrained kindness, friendship & love.

But more than anything else, I'm peacefully happy - to have felt such exhaustion, to have been so overwhelmed, to have experienced such humility, to have felt so sad, & to have been so frightened is nothing less than a gift that many people never receive, & one that I will treasure with all of my heart for as long as it beats.

the dresden epic

2006-07-18T15:14:00.001-06:00

7/9/2006, 12.55
Bruxelles, Belgium to London, England

My journey is finished. It hasn't ended, but it has finished. Truth be told my journey was finished when we left Dresden, Germany. There was nothing more I wished to see or do, nowhere else I wished to go & I was physically, mentally & emotionally drained like never before. That being the case, I think I'll relive that portion here to help spur my memory in the future, even though I know I'll never forget any of it.

We arrived on Monday, midday, & Chris tried calling his friend Matze straight out. No answer. So we hiked to where Chris knew there was a hostel – Mond Palast – jumped online, got Julia's number & hiked to a telephone to call her. No answer. I found out later that Germans have to pay extra for voicemail. Those nazis.

We decided food was a good option & Chris introduced us to something called a donor: gyro-like meat with spices, sauce & veggies wrapped like a burrito & baked. I vowed never to eat anything else ever again.

After eating & getting in touch with Matze we met him & Miriam back at the hostel, where we finally checked in for that night. They both were great (& probably still are!)! We had some beers, talked, met a Hawaiian woman & finally were joined by Julia who, surprise surprise, was great as well! We switched venues to a better place about two doors down & had some more beers. This time, instead of chatting with Miriam (who was fun as hell to chat with!) I spent most of my time getting to know Julia. What a great girl! It had been quite some time since I had discussed business with anyone (which I love doing!), & she really knew what she was talking about. Surprisingly though was that she also really knew what I was talking about, which does not happen all the time with people. Needless to say, I liked Julia very much from that first day, & it was great to feel a connection to somebody, especially that quickly!

Finally we ended up at a club called Flower Power, after a brief stop at Miriam's flat for reasons unknown to me. This place was fun, though nutty. We drank more beers, talked more, got louder, played some pool, & finally ended up getting down on the dance floor...drinking beers. Eventually, after calming down & sitting a bit, we headed out. Not until I got nice & close to the bathroom floor though. Yeah, that was some serious beer, & a lot of it.

We awoke early the next day, Tuesday, hungover as hell with about four hours of sleep. That was a treat...I think I may still have been slightly drunk. I tried to eat, but my stomach was still pissed as hell at me for beating it so mercilessly the previous night, so I didn't get much down. Matze met us with his badass, bright yellow dog-catching machine & took us grocery shopping before dropping our packs off at his flat (which is where we would be staying that night). From there, after lazily enjoying each others' hungover company for a bit, we walked to the university where we'd be attending Julia's lecture with her. DAMN what a big fucking lecture hall!! Matze, Chris & Jason each decided to have a beer...during class. Let me tell you, I would have LOVED to have had a beer in lecture if my stomach had not still been giving me the finger. Ah well, maybe next time.

The lecture turned out to be on investments & finance, which is a class I recently took. Frighteningly, I think I understood it more in German than I did in English. Because that makes perfect sense. After Matze took a brief nap, the four of us left Julia to study before the lecture broke & fled to the campus bar for beers, where she joined us soon after.

The rest of the day was spent bumming around Dresden, eating bratwurst & ice cream (not in that order) & kicking around a mini soccer ball...everywhere...before hitting the student union around 18.00 to watch the Germany/Italy game that night at 21.00. The first hour was spent playing fussball two-on-two, which wound up being all sorts of competitive & rowdy, & from which we emerged sweating up a storm (it was warm in there!)! The second out was spent playing our version of the real thing with a pint-sized ball & a pint-sized player (someone's four-year-old kid...good kicker) out front. Finally we went inside to prepare to watch the real players play the real thing on the projector screen from the kickass seats we had saved with our flags earlier.

Holy shit what a time! I've come to realize that soccer's draw is half for the game, half for the fans. The game itself was terrible. Nobody scored until the first overtime, when Italy made two goals in the last minutes. After the first, Germany had just lost heart.

But the TIME spent with the fans was excellent!! Chanting, cheering, screaming, jumping, drinking beers & yelling at the Italians. Seriously, those ass clowns need to leave the game & open their own theatre company! Every 20 fucking seconds another one was on the ground, grabbing some part of his body that someone or something might have come close to touching & screaming in pain. And sure enough, nearly every time the ref would run out, tell him to get up & quit acting like a seven-year-old sissy girl (or so I imagined), & he'd be right up & off running like nothing had happened. Damn Italians, & I kinda liked that country too.

The atmosphere after losing was rough. The same passion shown during the game was present in the disappointment of losing such an important match. We went downtown to chill, but only after heeding Matze's warning that if anyone got out of hand - threw a bottle or started breaking shit for example - the polizei would just round up everyone in the general vicinity & cart them off, regardless of what anyone was doing. In other words, we had to be careful.

We passed the polizei, in full riot gear, on our way there. Matze asked if there had been any trouble (yet), & they apparently steered him clear of the volatile areas. We hid for awhile in a restaurant, eating donors & drinking beers, & then we hit the same quiet bar we had hit the night before. We relaxed, drank some beers, & Chris & I impressed the chicks with our magical ways. Oh, & I totally forgot, Julia's best friend Kat had joined us from the game onwards! Unfortunately I didn't get to spend much time really getting to know Kat on this trip, but from the little that I did I easily could see she was a great person, well worth getting to know better in the future. We got back to Matze's flat around three in the morning & passed out.

I've seriously just written six pages on the first two days in Dresden. This is ridiculous! Ok, deep breath...nearly to London already.

We awoke early on Wednesday so we could attend Matze's lecture with him. We relaxed a bit, woke up, had some breakfast, drank some beers & relaxed some more. The lecture was unanimously vetoed. More relaxing, more beers. We then packed up & left to meet Julia, who would lead us to her place where she very graciously let us sleep that night. She has a wonderful little flat! Well, technically her parents have a wonderful little flat, but they were on vacation near the Netherlands for the duration of the week, so as far as I'm concerned Julia has a wonderful little flat! (Yay for sheep out the window! We just emerged from the chunnel into England & the first thing I saw were cute sheeps!) The afternoon was spent strolling around Dresden with Julia. We saw some beautiful churches, & for the second time on this trip I actually learned something about the city I was in. While I've often complained about attending university, many might be surprised to learn that I love just that: learning. Plus, Julia turned out to be a marvelous & very knowledgeable tour guide, which made the afternoon that much better! Then even more good news: she suggested going swimming at a local lake that evening, something I had not yet done on this trip! I had been running short of fun new ideas for a few weeks at this point, & somebody with fresh ones was a joy to have around! So we returned to her (parents') flat, grabbed out beach gear & hit the road in Julia's little car. She wouldn't let either me or Chris drive. Did I mention she's smart?

The beach was very cool; not much sand, but they had a bitchin' automatic waterskiing system set up that I've never seen before. Initially I was slightly taken aback when I discovered Julia had neglected to mention that the beach was clothing optional. I'd never been to a beach with nudity before, & I was relieved that I reacted as I always thought I would: I felt completely normal & at ease, with absolutely no sexual inclinations. Well, no more than usual. Everybody knows I'm a dirty priest's kid! We jumped in the lake - Julia in her suit & the three of us in our underwear - & had a great time! Julia tried to drown me by pretending to teach me to swim (& then denied me CPR!), we played chicken with me & Jason carrying Julia & Chris respectively (they won...go figure), & I reacquainted myself with the only way I ever knew how to swim: the backstroke. Then Julia & I went in & chatted while lying in the sun while Chris & Jason did god knows what in the water for another half an hour or so. Then we changed & drove to Julia's old high school where we played some soccer before heading to a beergarden to watch the Portugal/France game & drink some beers. We met another friend of hers there, whose name I cannot even come close to spelling, but she was very nice if a bit shy & quiet. After France won we took the blanket we had brought down to the River Elbe to sit, chat & drink some...gotcha! We had not brought beer with us tonight! Oh no, instead the five of us shared two bottles of champaign! Julia & I chatted, once again, & I was surprised to find out she's interested in working as an air traffic controller. Certainly not a dream you hear every day, which is what I like about it, & definitely cool. Then she gave me a kickass backrub - the first I had received in a long time - & we all went home.

But if you think we all went home to sleep you obviously have not been reading this carefully enough. After all it was only midnight. We got home & popped in a three-hour-long Bollywood video, during which I paid back Julia for all the backrubs she had been giving me with a three-hour full upper-body massage. It was enjoyable, to say the very least. Hopefully for her as well. I think it was, as she was highly complimentary. Earlier in the day Chris had told her what Rosy had said about the massage I had given her in Nafplio, Greece, & Julia lambasted her as a liar. Apparently it was far better than Rosy had stated. In all fairness though, Julia's was twice as long as Rosy's. Personally I'm happy with either compliment.

None of us ended up sleeping much that night. After we finished the movie Jason crashed on the sofa for a few hours, but Chris, Julia & I ended up chatting well into the morning. We didn't sleep at all.

Thursday was a day (& night!) to remember! We were all more than a bit tired, but we woke up as the day wore on. Julia went to her lecture, & the three of us hung out with Matze for the first part of the day. We spent some time at his old high school, drinking Coca-Cola in the halls, playing soccer in the yard & bein' bad hanging in the "Smoker's Corner" drinking some beers. After ambling around town a bit after that - playing soccer the whole time of course - they went off to pick up Drea, Matze's girlfriend, from the train station, & I hung out with Julia for a few hours. It was a good time. We sat drinking milkshakes (& flirting) at a café for awhile, then we hit the mall. The university was holding a massive party that night, thrown by a wealthy professor, & she needed a new shirt. Of course I was happy to oblige! We shopped, she found a great one, but she needed a bra with a proper back for it to work. So off we went in search of a bra! We found a very nice one in another store, & it looked even nicer on her! Unfortunately, her card had been left at home, & so Kat was called in to help. I must admit, I almost didn't want her to arrive. Ok...I didn't want her to arrive. While we were waiting we strolled around, arm in arm with her head on my shoulder, looking through shops. We looked through recent albums in a music shop & she showed me the bookstore where she used to work, & probably will again this fall. It really was quite lovely. Eventually though, Kat did arrive. We got the shirt & bra, & Kat dropped me off at Matze's for dinner while she & Julia went back home to get ready for the party. All in all, it was a wonderfully relaxing afternoon!

The dinner was no less spectacular! The turnout was me, Matze, Chris, Jason, Drea & Gudrun, a friend from Chris' trip two years ago. We had chicken with herbs wrapped in bacon, mixed vegetables (the best I've ever had!), & these funky but supremely yummy deep fried mashed potato balls. PLUS, they bought a special beer that none of them had ever tried before. It was a smoked beer from southern Germany, & you'll never guess what it tasted like. You ready for this? Meat! That's right baby. MEAT BEER!! It was incredible!! Of course there was no meat in it, but it had a flavor very reminiscent of smoked ham! I was the only one who liked it, those heathen bastards. Afterwards Matze & I drank some beers & chatted on the balcony. He really is a great guy; I like him very much. The kitchen was then cleaned, Julia arrived (looking fantastic in her new shirt), & we were off to the university to party it up!

For all my life this party will live in my memory...for a number of reasons. This party - in fact the entire evening - had more people, more booze, more couples getting it on, more dancing, more drama, more stress & more confusion than any party I've ever attended or heard of...by far. Most importantly though, I had more fun than I can remember having in recent history.

It started out simple enough: tons of university kids drinking, dancing & talking. Loud music inside, smoke outside, couples in corners, that sort of thing. The strange thing is, I don't know precisely what happened what happened, or when. Certainly we all got smashed (Miriam in particular, the poor girl, kept having different groups of friends run up, give her a beer & make her down it with them!), & I know that was a factor, but otherwise everything seemed to progress without my realizing it. A number of things began happening that were difficult to watch or understand, but I’ve promised to censor a few of them due to their personal nature & their involvement with other people. I just did my best to shrug them off & ignore them. My best turned out to be more beer. At least it was good beer. Admittedly though, some still hurt. I don't know who, other than Chris, could have guessed that, but there ended up being an incredible amount of tension in the air which we dealt with by drinking, dancing & laughing loudly.

After awhile Julia & I got together & got down on the dance floor. I gotta say that girl can move! After a bit I decided to let on that I thought I had figured out some things about her that I had been confused about. Unfortunately, being drunk I hadn't really thought it through, & it was not until after I hinted at it that I realized telling her everything I had been thinking probably wouldn't be the best idea. At least not right then. Too late...she was already determined to know! She asked me to tell her, & I said "nein." She asked me more nicely but received the same response, & wanted to know why. I told her that her knowing would not help me, not help her, & not change the outcome of the evening, & so it was best left alone (no mention of my randomly bringing it up...). That answer didn't seem to take, so she said "come here," grabbed my hand & led me outside with me looking back at the others with a confused look on my face & shrugging.

When we got outside we found a place to sit on a railing, effectively surrounding ourselves with couples in various stages of dress & undress making out. I don't think I told her what I really had been thinking, which was that even though she may have thought I was nice & maybe kind of cute, I knew that ultimately she was interested in Chris. We discussed quite a bit though. She brought up my journal & admitted how angry she was with Chris because of Rosy. Apparently she had told him that when traveling a guy should have a girl in every country, & Chris gave her the impression he had none. Hearing this startled me, because I hadn't even considered the fact that I had written about the two of them in there. It frustrated me because while it was Chris' choice to not tell anyone in Dresden about the girl he had just been with, I had to choose between lying to my newfound friends or betraying my best friend...& neither option appealed to me. Instead, I just had been trying to avoid the subject all week. I told her how much I liked her from the beginning of the week, about my & Chris' social differences & about how angry I had been with Chris that morning because he had been flirting with her all week. He & I had taken a long walk that morning to get breakfast (potato bagels!), during which I told him how pissed off I was & why. I had told him I didn't trust him anymore because he had kept saying he wouldn't flirt & then get drunk & kiss her (as was the case Monday night), or telling me to "get in there (her room) & make your move so I can go to bed," only to wander in ten minutes later, lay on the floor & start acting cute with stuffed animals (as was the case the previous night). She told me how irritated she had been that morning when I said we'd be right back & then took nearly an hour. I told her how terribly I had felt when we returned & found the cold coffee, butter, jams & cheeses she had laid out because she thought we would be right back, & apologized sincerely. She laughed & told me she had forgiven me as soon as I got back. Then I kissed her. She kissed back. It felt so good. In my memory it was the first & only time I ever had taken the initiative & kissed a girl first, & I told her that. Not wishing to be outdone, she took the initiative right back & kissed me, & this went on back & forth for a little while. God it felt great to kiss someone, especially considering that it was someone I really liked!

Eventually (sigh), we opted to go back in, where surprisingly everyone was relieved to see us. I thought we had been gone 20, maybe 30 minutes, but evidently it was closer to an hour!! How time flies when you're having fun! But then things took a turn for the weirder, then the worse.

Within minutes of our arrival somebody came up & told us that Julia wanted to talk to Chris & Kat to me. So back outside I went with Kat, who as it turned out needed to speak with me about...nothing. Absolutely nothing. We pretty much just discussed the different countries I had been in. That was it. Oh, & her & Julia's trip to Turkey later that summer. When I asked her why she needed to talk to me, she said simply that I was her friend & she liked chatting with me. Talk about the worst on-the-fly excuse in the history of feminine manipulation; I didn't buy it for a second, a fact I'm pretty sure she knew. It didn't matter though, because she was still doing what I believed she intended to do: keep me out of the way. I can't deny that I'd do the same for my best friend if he needed it, so I certainly don't hold it against her.

Finally we all decided to head to another club. While our group was being rounded up Chris mentioned that Julia was upset because she felt the he & she had had a good thing going & now she was being passed off. They didn't have a good thing going (at least not romantically), as Chris was & is completely in love with Rosy, & what's really upsetting is she wouldn't have thought that had he not been flirting with her all week. As a side note, it really doesn't feel all that great to have someone think they're being "passed off" to you either.

(How fitting that after all that I've just now run out of pencil lead.) We all left, & the tension was terrible. We walked for a ways until we reached a tram stop, where it said it had a 12-minute wait. A few played soccer, I sat & thought, but what killed me more than anything was that Julia was crying quietly; Kat was comforting her. I don't know why I didn't go to her & give her a hug...I desperately wanted to. I was scared, embarrassed & ashamed of myself, although for what I don't know. I think it was because I felt, & perhaps still do, that I had hurt her, which was the last thing I had ever wanted to do. Even as I was trying to convince myself to move, to hug her, to talk to her, to do anything, as usual Chris beat me to it. He walked over & gave her a hug, & they spent the next 30 minutes or so hugging, talking or both. Why can I never reach out to do the right thing at the moment in which it's needed most?

We boarded the tram & rode for a bit; I sat alone, still thinking. I was pleased when Matze came over & sat to tell me they had decided against the club due to everyone's mood. Instead we were going back to the same bar we had visited twice before for coffee & relaxation. We ended up chatting quite a bit after he asked me if I was alright. I told him I was, & ended up telling him about my ADHD & how after spending prolonged periods with groups I need a bit of a breather, which I get by quieting or quieting down and/or removing myself from the group temporarily. He understood at once & offered to leave me alone, which I had none of. I like Matze; he is as honest with people as I see myself slowly becoming, & it's nice to have some reassurance that I've picked the right direction.

After leaving the tram we walked through the train station at which we had originally arrived on Monday, on our way to the bar. Just on the opposite side though, Miriam could take no more & got sick. I felt so terrible for her; I know what that feels like & I don't like it. The decision was made to call it a night, but we still had to figure out how. Our bags were at Julia's, & I knew Chris just wanted out of the situation & away from the stress. After the discussion (of which I was not a part, as it was in German), Chris told me that we were thinking of heading to Matze's & picking up the packs in the morning. After as quiet as I had been & the thinking that I had done, I finally knew what I wanted & had regained the strength to voice it: I told him no. While I certainly was interested in Julia, it had nothing to do with that. Julia had the potential to be a great friend, & if I walked away without taking the time to talk with her there was no guarantee we'd ever meet again. More important than either of those reasons though, was that someone was hurt & I was at the very least partially involved. Too many times while growing up I left difficult situations unresolved because I was too scared to do the right thing. With a good friend at stake & that in mind, I was not ready to call it a night until I could talk with Julia. The only problem was that I wasn't sure she wanted to talk to me...

And then, in a weird, backward, perverse sort of way that had become normal on this trip, I had a stroke of luck. Chris suddenly realized the bag with, among other things, his passport & this journal was not on his shoulder. After quick reorganizing it was decided that Chris, Matze & Drea would search for it, find it & then land at Matze's for the brief remainder of the night while Kat, Julia, Jason & I would all walk back to Julia's, where Jason & I would stay. I know Chris, because I had told him how I felt, pushed for that, & I was grateful to him.

Almost immediately after parting ways Julia grabbed my arm, stopped me, waited for Jason & Kat (who once again was doing the distracting) to walk ahead, & then continued strolling...keeping my arm. I kept quiet while she said what she needed to say. She was so sorry she had ruined the night, she desperately had not wanted to cry in front of us, but so many things that had been building recently had all accumulated that night & she had lost the ability to control them all. That was something I understood more than I could tell her. Once she finished I proceeded to explain to her not only why she owed me no apology, but why there was nothing about the night I would change if given the chance as well. She owed me no apology because I had had an amazing night, period. She had not ruined my night, but had in fact been responsible for it's perfect outcome, a consequence for which I would accept no apology. There were problems & drama to be sure, but they fueled my emotions until I reached a place often sought & rarely found: a place where I acted on instinct & emotion rather than logic & thoughts. I said what I thought, I danced as crazy as I wanted, I asked about what I wanted to know...& I kissed the girl I wanted to kiss, something I've been trying in vain to do for years. Of course the alcohol was a factor, I won't deny that, but I've been drunk many times before & still visibly lacked whatever it was I needed to do those things. It was more freeing than I ever can express. That is why if given the chance I would not change a single thing about that night.

As for her crying, she had to know how I was happy for that as well. Not in the moment of course, & I certainly was not happy that she needed to cry, but when people, friends, reach that dreaded & embarrassing point in front of you, you have the opportunity to see them more clearly than at any other time. They're not trying to impress anyone, they're not working with the group dynamic, & all of their defenses are down...they're simply themselves, whether those around them like it or not. I liked it, & I liked what I saw in her. Had the evening gone off as planned, with no problems, complications, controversies, & no tears, I would have missed out on so much that I got to experience. I will always be grateful for that night.

We talked nearly every step of the way home. I was going to give her my contact info but she was scared that I wouldn't respond, & she'd have to stop trying. I very clearly told her that there was no way I would not respond, BUT, if I didn't for some reason, it would only be because I was unable, which was no reason for her to stop trying! She asked that I not take it the wrong way, but she really didn't want to be alone that night & wondered if I would stay with her. I've slept in the same bed, & on occasion even cuddled, with all of my closest friends on many occasions. It was not a problem. (Incidentally, the cuddling part in the previous sentence applies only to the female closest friends. Just wanted to be absolutely clear.) The whole way we walked arm in arm, with her head on my shoulder & my head on her head for much of it.

When we got home Jason collapsed immediately in the other bedroom, which I appreciated immensely. We both fell asleep within a minute - something that never happens to me even when drunk and/or exhausted. I slept like a rock.

But once again, not for long enough! The alarm committed its grave offence at 9:10, only a few hours later. With no time to shower (as usual) we loaded up all three packs, had some coffee & set off. We met up with everyone downtown & walked to a nice, though slightly expensive, café for a leisurely breakfast. Afterwards we headed to the train station. While waiting some of us played soccer, some of us chatted. Julia & Kat told me they wanted to plan a trip to Chicago next September, which would kick some serious ass! The time to go to the platform arrived far too quickly, as I knew it would. We strapped the packs on once again & all headed in. On the way I surprised myself again & began singing "Leaving on a Jet Plane" loud enough for all to hear, something I usually am too shy to do. I sang the first verse alone, but by the time I reached the chorus Chris & Jason had joined in & it could be heard echoing through the station. I was happy. And truth be told, it was Julia that inspired me to remember the song, & I don't know if she noticed or not, but I sang a number of the lines directly to her. I hope she noticed, but I don't think she did. Goodbyes then were said, hugs & kisses given, letters exchange, & we boarded the train. The very last image I have is of all of them - Matze, Drea, Kat & Julia - disappearing in the distance as the train pulled away...all four waving white handkerchiefs.

As the train picked up speed (it was a bullet train after all) the three of us discussed where we were going. It was decided that we would take that train all the way to Frankfurt, switch trains & take an overnight to Paris so Chris could surprise Rosy when she showed up at the airport to fly back to Montreal. Once that was squared away Chris & Jason were asleep in minutes, & I finally could cry the tears that had been welling up in my eyes since before we boarded. I was happy. I spent the rest of the train ride writing my first entry on Dresden.

I want to go back...

We had a few hours in Frankfurt, during part of which Chris & I went in search of a grocery store. To find what we wanted we had to visit two, & I waited out on the street at the second. I couldn't stop thinking about something Julia had told me Thursday night during our hour-long discussion. She said that Chris & I were so different from each other (which is true), & yet she very much liked the both of us for different reasons. She said that if we both lived in Dresden she would have a terrible time, because she didn't know how she would be able to choose between us. The reason it continued to bounce around my mind is because I wasn't sure I believed her entirely. It's silly, because Julia is a person who values honesty very highly, & there were plenty of arm-in-arm walks & the like to prove she had at least a slight interest, but I never could shake the feeling that I was the back-up in case her real desire, Chris, didn't work out. I'll most likely never know, which is probably for the best. Nearly every girl he & I meet together initially is attracted to me, but after a day or two (or less) falls in love with Chris & considers me a "great guy." I think I'd rather not have proof of yet another occurrence. Julia could become a great friend, & I truly hope that she does. There are worse things in life than having lots of friends & no intimacy.

While standing on the street outside of the store waiting for Chris, I began singing "Leaving on a Jet Plane" again. I know only the first verse & the chorus, but I must have sung each three or four times a piece. By the end of the first round I already had tears streaming down my face & I didn't care who stared. I was happy.

From Frankfurt we took an overnight to Paris & arrived just in time for Chris to get out to CDG airport & surprise Rosy. Jason & I hung out at the station as it was €8 per person both to & from CDG, & we barely had enough to send one. I'm happy he got to go, although I would love to have gotten to see her again. Jason took a nap, & when he awoke I went for a walk. I returned to find Jason shrugging & staring dumbly as a pissed as hell Frenchman yelled at him, spouting taunts, insults & death threats - all in French. He asked if I spoke French & I responded simply with "Nein, bin ich deutsch," & proceeded to ignore his entire existence, regardless of the two or three more times he tried to get my attention. After he left I asked Jason what the hell had happened. He told me that the guy had walked up & started saying something in French (big surprise there), so he just said "sorry, no French. American." I considered pretending I didn't know who he was & leaving immediately. After some deliberation I decided that ultimately it would cause more problems than it would fix, & I stayed there. Damnit he's clueless sometimes though. I just wish he would try, or even care, once in awhile...

Eventually Chris returned, & he & Jason went on a sightseeing walk. I was no longer interested in the sights, & I waited at the station with the packs, dozing. I don't know how long they were out, but they shook me awake & we jumped our train to Bruxelles, Belgium!

culture shock

2006-07-18T15:09:00.000-06:00

7/11/2006, 13.30
Chicago, IL

Until now I've never experienced culture shock at home, surrounded by my own culture. It's unnerving to say the least. While a part of me knows it will go away quickly once I begin my daily routine again, another larger part doesn't want it to. I suppose it's more like reverse culture shock, really. I get surprised when I hear somebody on the street speaking in my native language, & it sounds so foreign. I've grown accustomed to not understanding the language, posters & signs around me, & suddenly now that I do it makes me uncomfortable. For breakfast/lunch I grabbed two slices of my favorite bread: Roman Meal. It was strange just eating sliced bread, but stranger still was that it tasted plastic, fake. I grew up eating this bread, how can six weeks change how I feel even about the most ingrained childhood habits?

I want to go back.

if all else fails, meet me in Helsinki

why are you reading this?

**ITINERARY**

airline thoughts

rocky beginnings

makin' eyes

while you can change the country...

beneath blankets by the canal

up for interpretation

sleepless nights

talent or luck?

who likes logic?

longest...train ride...ever

catching some rays

on my own

foreigners

get your shoes!

the modern russian idiot

motherfuckin' huge!

so pedestrian

waxing poetic

happiness is...

our lord & savior...

brainstorming

shameful

my problems

cops with beers

clowning around

drained

the dresden epic

culture shock

ITINERARY