Yikes, Plans!

This is the rough draft of my overly ambitious road trip...

Admin in Annapolis

In order to have my teeth repaired, I am TADing at the Naval Academy for a few weeks. I work for the Commandant's Administrative Officer; I share my office with someone whose e-mails I used to filter directly to my trash folder, and my first task was to translate one schedule into a more aesthetically pleasing schedule. Nevertheless, I like my boss and everyone with whom I work so far.

I had a double root canal two days ago. It was easily one of the most painful events of my life - which might say something about my life, but i still recommend avoiding root canals at all costs. In two weeks, I will have crowns put on my teeth.

My life is relatively low key at present. Earlier in the week, I went to a Feist concert with Dan at the 9:30 Club in DC, and I may travel a bit on the weekends.

Different Aspects of Life

I missed the last train from Prague to Frankfurt, so I bought a ticket for one at 0417. Emily caught her train to Budapest around 2300, and I sat in the train station reading Kafka's The Trial until an intimidatingly large group of Czech police officers informed me that the station was closed.

So at 0100, I walked a few blocks back into the city to a Czech bar, where I continued reading The Trial, watched Real Madrid playing soccer against another team, drank a beer, and listened to bad (American) 80's music. I finished the novel on the plane back to the US. I certainly liked it, but I'm still mulling it over, so I'm not ready to write about it yet. The timing of my reading, however, does make the next part of the post interesting.

As Dan, Emily, and I were driving back from Dover, Dan and Emily began to discuss how beautiful it was outside. I watched the German and Czech countryside drift by with wonder and awe on every train I rode. Certainly, I enjoyed myself in Berlin, Dresden, and Prague, in some part, because I was seeing the cities for the first time. But there's more to it...

My friend Rachel once said that she saw the beauty in life and I saw it as it was, which was how we differed. After considering her observation, I agreed.

Sometimes escaping everything I know allows me to see the beauty in life again. I had the same experience when I went to France and Germany in December with Will and Dan. This time, on returning to Annapolis, I allowed myself to see the city and Galway Bay as if it was the first time again. Dan and I had a great dinner; Erin met up with us for a drink, and Lloyd and his girlfriend happened upon us. I had a really good night and woke up and made omelets with Dan. As I was happily cleaning up the mess, I thought to myself, "I hope I can see this beauty in Everett and Seattle."

In Dover, Headed to Annapolis

I visited the Old Town in Frankfurt, and briefly stepped inside the Goethe House on my way back to Ramstein. After spending the night at the Ramstein Inn, I woke up early (0230) for a flight, but it was full so I hung out at the airport until a 1330 flight. Dan Misch is retreiving me from the Dover Passenger Terminal and taking me to dentists in Annapolis, finally!

I'll post more when my mouth doesn't hurt, and I have a bit more time.

Another Day in Prague

After thinking about it for a while, I've decided to head back to Ramstein/the US to have my teeth and mouth looked at by a doctor. I'll save the second half of my trip (Krakow to Budapest to Zagreb to Skip) for later in life. I'll be able to Space A travel again for free for the next five years.

I feel very lucky to be able to see as much of the world as I have. Today, I went to the Kafka Museum and Kampa Art Museum, but I'll share more about that and tie up loose ends in a post from Ramstein or the US. I'm taking a train to Frankfurt shortly.

Sigh...good parts of a long day

I started reading 1984 at the beginning of the trip, but I wasn't enjoying it, so I switched to The Color Purple, which I finished reading last night. I enjoyed it very much. Our tour guide, Andrew, is literally cherry picking above.

Karlstejn Castle

Today, Emily and I took a bike trip to Karlstejn Castle, twenty miles outside of Prague. Early on, we both agreed that this was the best event we'd chosen. We criss-crossed rivers in the picturesque Czech countryside, stopping at a local sweet shop for ice cream, picking cherries out of a tree along the road with our cute guide, and then continuing on to the castle and lunch at an incredible pub (the best food we've had in the Czech Republic).

About 100m from the pub, after making my way along rocky, sometimes hilly river paths, I launched myself over my handle bars. Launched. End result? Something I'll remember forever...
I began to feel better after three more bowls of ice cream.

Jacques Brel: Sólo pro tři

Instead of finding the concert at the National Museum, I found a ballet at the National Theater. My good experience in Berlin compelled me to enter; besides the standing room tickets cost the equivalent of $1.50.

Rather than classical music, the ensemble danced to a combination of spoken word, folk, and rock. The lyrics and words appeared in English and Czech, so I could understand what the choreographer was trying to convey. I say trying because the songs were about war and lost love, and a myriad of other themes, but they were too vague and new age to enjoy.

The large platform in the center that served as the only set item was underwhelming. Even as the dancers tried to bring meaning to the words, the hip motifs seemed cliche and unartistically developed. Both the lyrics and dance were over ambitious. There were just too many messages, and the dancers struggled to partner dance with the music, and especially the spoken words.

Maybe I'm a snob, but I left at intermission.

On Maps

I believe that the best way to explore a foreign city is without a map.

As long as you have a good memory and follow the general flow of people (something easier done in a European city than an American one purely because of the volume of pedestrians), you will find all of the major sites. Do not carry a map with you. Period. Taking a glance at a street map after exploring a bit is allowed because you then associate what it shows with what you've seen, and this helps you to memorize and understand where you are going.

Being mapless helps you avoid appearing to be a tourist. You are not constantly glancing down, so you enjoy the sites. Likewise you are not searching for street signs nonstop, and you do not have to stop to check where you are going.

I have one of the worst senses of direction, but I know Berlin and I nearly know Prague. I say nearly because yesterday Emily began the part of our European journey that we are taking together. She absolutely loves and depends on maps. We were supposed to go to a concert at the National Museum in Prague at 7. Naturally, we split up to see who would get there first. I never made it. I'll save where I ended up for another entry.

I still contend that the best way to get around is without a map. I blame the experience on our earlier dependence on maps.

Prague

There is no trash on the streets of Prague.

A few minutes after Emily picked me up at the metro stop, and we dropped my bag at the hostel, we started searching for a restaurant. As we crossed the city, I found two pages of a book that defined (I assume - it was written in Czech) social realism and discussed Tennessee Williams and 'Alexei Tolstoj.'

Soon after, I caught a toad on the steps in a park and, in celebration of Emily's birthday, threw it at her. Happy 22! I love Prague.

We eventually found a restaurant at which to really celebrate and ordered three appetizers: One consisted of ham, the deli meat kind, rolled around unsweetened whip cream with a touch of horseradish. Yum? The second was a rather rare role of roast beef, also garnished with whip cream, and the third was supposed to be a peach stuffed with chicken salad. The canned peach halves contained mushrooms and whip cream but no chicken. The traditional Czech courses we ordered as main courses were not what we expected either. The pheasant in mine could not be located, and Emily's steak was frightening. At least the beer was cheap and the bread was good.

After dinner, we walked over a tourist-filled bridge and up many steps to see St. Vitus Cathedral in Prague Castle. It is the highest point in the area, and in the evening, the buildings that line the Vltava river are serenely reflected. The peaceful night was broken only once by a throng of school children running down from the castle.

Later today, we plan to visit the castle again and the Communism Museum, as well as attend a concert at the National Museum celebrating Mozart's concert here 220 years ago. Emily has been patiently waiting, so I'll save the rest for later.

Strawberry beer?

It's true, I tried it.

I biked south along the Elbe, crossed the Blue Wonder Bridge, biked back to the Zwinger (castle) and searched for the Mathematics and Physics Salon (part of the museum). Like the rest of East Germany, it was under construction. So I returned to my hostel and will catch a train to Prague around 5 this evening.

I'll try to avoid turning this into a list of events.

This is the updated map.

Dresden

I prematurely exited my train from Berlin at the Friedrichstrafze-Dresden Station on the north side of town. This gave me the opportunity to walk in the shadows of abandoned Eastern/Soviet architecture: gigantic, disgusting pre-fab apartment blocks. They overwhelmed the skyline, so I started walking towards one of two spires I could see. When I could see more than the spire, I concluded, because of the excess of neighborhood kabab stores, what I've gathered about Germany's politics, and its design that it was a mosque. I was wrong; it used to be a cigarette factory.

It seems I know nothing about German politics or Dresden (aside from the fact that the US and Britain firebombed it - one of the most ethically controversial actions of the Second World War).
In walking toward the second spire, I discovered the historical part of Dresden: a fortress. With the Elbe on one side and a moat on the other, it was the strong and safe seat of the Dukes of Saxony during the 15th Century and eventually became the capital of the Kingdom of Saxony. Inside, I found a palace with gardens, fountains, an opera house, theater, and church. At about 6 in the evening it was peaceful and calming; its proximity to nature and the concentration of German culture made it beautiful in ways Berlin cannot be. Although I did not catch the violin-viola duet, the Wagner opera, or the Heinrich Heine show on a river boat, I had the chance to relax.

After walking over the Elbe and through a few more blocks of dining tourists, I found a hip, college district (there was even a large green where dozens were playing frisbee and volleyball, sleeping, and reading). I found a hostel and had dinner (fish - Dorado) at a Morrocan restaurant across the street alone.

I'm tired and will probably head to sleep soon. I will either rent a bike in the morning or walk through the historical area again. It's hard to appreciate the beauty when carrying a heavy backpack. Afterwards, I'm headed to Prague to meet up with Emily.

Manon

Today I saw Manon at the Deutsche Staatsoper. Incidentally, yesterday, my €43 ticket placed me in the last row but near the center; today's €7 student was for a seat five rows from the stage.

In preparation, I purchased a black skirt, an almost nice khaki jacket, and shoes. I was the under-dressed, brightly-colored sweater wearing fool at the premier of The Clemency of Titus yesterday (shocking, I know), and I was determined not to let it happen again. Apparently, everyone wears b/w to premieres, but other shows do not have the same restrictions... lesson learned. Of course this evening, there was a much greater variety of colors and a much smaller variety of body types. There were at least four anorexic ballerinas in my row.

I can say that, without a doubt, Manon was the best ballet I have ever seen; this statement is more a reflection on the dancers than the guiding script. The ballet was a near perfect partner to the score. I truly enjoyed the first two acts even though action within the plot was motivated only by drinking and gambling. The third act was a bit confusing. We seem to appear suddenly in a penal colony, and the only justification I could think of at the time was that this ensured the dancers could wear less. The quality of the ballet itself made up for the misunderstanding, and after some research, I understand that the two were arrested and are reminiscing. Manon is a story of love and deceit and performed by the Staatsballett Berlin, a truly impressive tragedy-ballet.

More on Checkpoint Charlie

Today I returned to Checkpoint Charlie and visited the museum Rainer Hildebrandt founded in 1962 in an apartment on the West Berlin side. It's known as the Mauer (= Wall) Museum in German, but the Checkpoint Charlie Museum in English (how fitting...everyone wins).

According to its website, ''The aim was to document the ''best border security system in the world.'' '' (Sarcasm is intended; the quote is from a general in East Germany's armed forces) The museum basically heroizes the efforts of 'escape helpers' and 'resistance activists' who escorted East Berliners under the wall in tunnels and through checkpoints hidden in luggage or sewn into car seats.

It's replete with quotes from relevant figures, such as, Hildebrandt and peace activists including Gandhi. I found it a bit overwhelming by the time I'd reached the end; it's not wonderfully designed, and the curator has intentionally kept poorly translated elements of the original museum, but my main complaint is with its mission. At the very least, I'd like to raise a question: what does revering the students and activists who helped others over the wall encourage? The exhibit emphasizes what outstanding citizens the students who dug one tunnel became (Why? What role did living in West Germany play in this development?)

At one point the exhibit quotes an escort who actively made the claim that 8 of 10 people he 'helped' made it across. Are the odds worth it? More importantly, would we have considered their actions ethical then and should we now? (Should there be a difference?) Even if we assume the escorts do not profit from their actions, I am reluctant to consider these people the heroes of a united Germany.

In the Middle East, we questioned the ethics of people that help Palestinians into Kuwait (see Ghassan Khanfani's Men in the Sun). Today, considering the death rate of immigrants along the US-Mexico border, we naturally question the ethics of those that help them get across. While, I am not condemning the Berlin escorts, I am very reluctant to canonize these men and women.

Grab Bag

''Sometimes I appreciate the impertinence of others. An older woman approached me with a question just as I was sitting down on the train. Apologetically, I explained that I could not understand her. Suddenly, I smelled something - it was terrible - she appeared clean, so I couldn't be sure. She approached the two boys of about 17 seated kitty corner to me. They had been wandering about the car earlier singing (rapping, kind of) some English lyrics which could easily be considered inappropriate. I had been entertained, and I was entertained once more when they told the women she was 'stinken.' I couldn't understand the whole German sentence, but she quickly left the car, and they performed a smell check on the car to make sure it was her scent that was so disgusting. It was. Does appreciating their rudeness make me rude?''

Mm, rhetorical question.

The Clemency of Titus was incredible and, by far, the best opera I have ever seen or heard. Mozart's music was good, of course, and the cast worked it into their acting well. The chorus was never overwhelming, and their presence was never overstated. I liked the costumes and use of costumes as symbolic props. The backdrops and floor were beautifully painted, and if I find a picture online or other work by the artist, I will post a link. In the mean time, you should trust me when I say it's worth seeing.

This morning, I visited Neue Wache, Germany's equivalent of our Eternal Flame (housed in Arlington National Cementary). Neue Wache, however, is a memorial to victims of war and tyranny. It contains the remains of both an unknown soldier and an unknown concentration camp victim. For a short time, it had an always lit flame, but today it contains an enlarged replica of Käthe Kollwitz's ''Mother with her Dead Son,'' which I found equally effective.

Visiting Checkpoint Charlie's outdoor exhibits before anyone else in Berlin was awake was certainly worthwhile. While the area has a very specific aim and is, in some part, targeted at American consumers, I found the aerial photographs of Berlin and the history recounted enlightening. Berlin is one gigantic construction project because it's only been reunited for 17 years, something that's easy to forget. My hostel would have been in East Berlin.

I recommend visiting Berlin's new Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe.

Random notes on Germany:

• The punk rock look here never really faded; holes and rips in jeans, piercings, black clothing, mohawks, and dyed hair (either bleached blond or bright pink-red) are the way to go.
  
• It's still hip to carry a boombox onto a train. Get as many of your friends together, wear as many soccer scarves as possible, pregame until you are belligerent, carry a six pack with you, and run (as a group) from place to place. Try to be louder than the music.
  
• Don't cross the street if there's a 'Don't Walk' sign, even if there's not a car within miles. To avoid confusion, there is no flashing 'Don't Walk.'
• Take your shoes off before placing your feet on a seat on the train. Ew, feet. Mm, socks.
  

Lost and Found Days

So apparently today is Sunday, June 3rd, and I did not lose a day. I had begun to suspect something was amiss but I was not positive until I bought a ticket to a ballet at what I think is the State Opera House (Staatsoper?) this evening. It is not a ballet being performed today; instead, I will be attending the premier of La clemenza di Tito, a Mozart opera.

My experience with Mozart operas is rather poor. I fell asleep at one in Paris last December when I was with Will and Dan. We left at intermission. Of course, we had no visibility tickets, and this time I paid more than twice the daily rate of the hostel where I am staying to be in the center. I slept all afternoon and am excited to go.

I think I'm going to explore Berlin for one more day (I walked the streets for about 6 hours this morning) and then head to Prague or Trieste.

Ich bin ein Berliner

Just kidding, but I am in Berlin. After taking a taxi directly from Ramstein to the largest train station in the area, Kaiserslautern. I decided to save the equivalent of about $100 and take local trains to Berlin. Over 12 hours later, I arrived in the city, and after about three hours of wandering, I found a hospitable hostel. More on all of that tomorrow. In the mean time, this is a link to a map of my journey.

I impressed myself by not messing up any of the train switches.

Ramstein

Yikes, I lost a day. Today, June 3rd, I arrived in Ramstein. I'm still on the air base, so I'll save funny stories about the flight for the next post. For the record, the only German word I know is nein. That should get me really far. Off I go...