Austrians and death

the local dj is playing Hallowe'en appropriate songs, starting his show with Michael Jackson's Thriller ("the only man this night who doesn't need a mask") and just played "Am Zentralfriedhof", a comic song about the party there tonight. Zentralfriedhof is Vienna's huge, famous cemetary. This is a shot I took of it in 2006. It's got about 2 1/2-3 million dead in it, and the Viennese use it as a place for a picnic and stroll. It has several entrances, bus, Schnellbahn, and tram stops. There's a Jewish section (several Adolfs, but none born after Hitler's rise to power, oddly enough...) and sections just for composers (such as Haydn and Beethoven and Mozart) and a section for artists, etc. It really is a lovely place. There are bullet holes in some of the graves, where a shoot-out took place in WWII. Purportedly, the Austrians are fascinated with death. The humour certainly is black here; it's what I love about the Austrians. They are a funny, witty people.

Weird school system and seasonal magic

Learned an interesting fact about the school I work at: new students transferring from another school don't get graded for two years to give them a chance to catch up. ????????????? TWO YEARS? High school is only 5 years (well, 8 here) and to not get grades for TWO of them? Of course, if they are good in a class, they can opt in to be graded. Otherwise...why work? you don't get a mark anyway. I find this beyond bizarre. What's wrong with doing poorly for one semester then catching up on the next? You not going to be that nuclear physicist if you have one poor mark, one semester, out of 8 years of high school? In a couple of weeks I'll be teaching the Headmaster English so maybe I'll inquire...

Autumn. October 31 today. Happy Hallowe'en! In school this week I had classes with windows looking onto the courtyard "garden" where the children play. The school has a couple centuries under its belt, so the trees are gorgeous and mature and in full fall colour. As I'm in class the sun catches the leaves in a glorious glow and they drift past the window as they fall. It's unbelievably beautiful.
It's also been 15-20 degrees out in daytime, so it seems a bit early for Christmas decorations but last week I went for a walk around the Ring (road which used to be the city walls surrounding Vienna) and noticed in front of the Rathaus (city hall, but I like Rat House. It seems appropriate somehow) all the huts were up already preparing for the Christkindlmarkt (Christ Child Market, the Christ Child no longer being the babe in the manger but some ethereal female angel in lieu of Santa Claus). And since mid-September, the new drogerie (drug store, without drugs--no pharmacy) across the street has had Santas clambering up its sparkling new facade. We complain in N.A. about the commercialisation of Christmas, but I tell you a country that is largely unfamiliar with Hallowe'en and Thanksgiving has no reason to wait until November to start with Christmas decorations and displays. However, Austria does Christmas very, very, very well indeed. It is a magical time. No late shopping though. Since this is a country with very early closing hours and no Sunday shopping (at ALL) I guess the retailers want to get all their Christmas earnings when they can. I am already sick with anticipation about the Christmas markets. I only managed 3 of them last year; I'm convinced I can do better this year. They are a marvel of impressions: wooden huts side by side, row by row, lit up and selling their wares, be it handcrafted wooden toys, artisan cheeses, glassblowers, honey and handmade beeswax candles sold by the apiarist himself, and of course the many stalls selling Punsch and Gluehwein (hot mulled wine) with people milling about stamping their feet, redcheeked from the cold. There's also a penchant for dark bread with salted lard on top. Sounds gross, but goes surprisingly well with the sweet Punsch. I also love the handmade advent wreaths (Adventskränze) with flowers and herbs and leaves surrounding the candles.
Considering it is warm enough to go out without a coat, just a top and pashmina, it seems peculiar to be anticipating Christmas, but I am! I'm hoping for a lot of snow this year. Our summer was rainy and cool compared the previous year (several humid days last year between 36 and 40 celcius) but we've had the autumn to make up for it, so I'm ready for toques and boots and pink cheeks and scarves and festive cheer.

and the milk machine tutorial:



open door , insert 60 cents, wait, enjoy your litre of milk! I thought this was hilarious!

The Milchautomat (milk machine)

Strange things I've seen...this barn, in a tiny village, has an automatic milk machine in this little doorway. Tutorial in next post

Der Krocha--Hallowe'en Party Get-up

Went to a great Hallowe'en party last night. My costume was a Krocha, a typical type of young "style" here. On the 5-minute walk to G&T's house, I passed a bunch of them lingering around acting cool.

The costumes were great--winning costume went to a couple who were Mona Lisa and daVinci. CK was a little unnerved by the look--said he wasn't sure that it was still me:)

moments at school

The Austrian school system is quite different from Canada's--to be expected, I suppose, but nonetheless I have moments of sheer delight in the differences. For example: Hausschuhe. House shoes, or slippers, are compulsory for the students. So it is not uncommon to see a hulking quarterback sized 18-year-old in fluffy pink slippers. Just because he can. Crocs and Birkenstocks are also acceptable. So on Thursday, when the students were required to wear their "Festkleidung" (Feast Clothes, literally), or, the formal uniforms, it was distracting to see navy skirts, white blouses and scarves, navy tights--and white Birks. The boys in their pressed trousers--and Bart Simpson slippers.

As the teachers here don't have their own classroom (the kids stay in their own classrooms except for art, music, science labs, and P.E.), there is a "teachers' room" where you have a desk as wide as your chair, and quite shallow. So these desks are stacked with towers of papers, texts, lessons, assignments to correct--and they have 5 minutes to get from whatever floor/wing they were teaching in to their desk, drop the previous lesson material, grab the next lesson's material/stacks of paper, take a sip of water and a bite of a sandwich, and fly off to the next class. It is a room of perpetual chaos, crowding, and movement. At some point I will take a photo of it. I've never counted, but I think it has to be about 40-50 teachers in there. It is a scene reminiscent of Harry Potter. Strange but wonderful.

Another moment: teaching the 10-year-olds body parts. They all know eyes/ears/nose/arm/leg in English, but the extra bits are missing. So with my conversation group I played a game to review what had been covered in another lesson. They all stood, and for each pair of students I pointed to a body part and the first child to shout out the correct name could stay standing, the other had to sit. Eventually of course the winner is the one left as you continue around the classroom. So eyebrow, earlobe, jaw, forehead, no problem. Then I pointed at my chin. In great eagerness to be the first with the correct answer, little Helmut shouted out "DOUBLE CHIN!" It's such a pity he'll fail the class. Seemed like such a bright boy, too... I could barely continue. The students weren't quite sure what was so funny. Reminded me of that teeth-whitening ad when the kindergarten teacher was teaching colours and pointed to her teeth and the children called out "beige! cream! eggshell! ecru!"--everything but white:)

Another school moment: At the end of the little ones' conversation class lessons I read aloud for 10 minutes to them. As I was reading Robin of Sherwood to a rapt circle, I saw out of the corner of my eye one little boy had flopped over and laid his head on another boy's knee. The second boy was absent-mindedly stroking the other's hair. This will never again occur in their high-school career, I have no doubt! They're not at the punching/chasing/wrestling/showing off stage yet. It was adorable.

Perfect Autumn

Today we went to Laxenburg for the day. It is a small town about 17 km from Vienna, with a beautiful Schloss and park. After lunch at the Rathaus Stüberl (city hall pub, where I had a Käsekrainer, locally known as an Eitriger, or "pus", due to the white cheese in a sausage which oozes out when you bite into it. Num Num:) in the sun, we happened upon a tiny, wonderful museum, rather optimistically called "Laxenburg Museum". The curator was a tiny, warm woman who greeted us graciously and drew us in. On exhibit is a Bulgarian painter named Miglena Alexandrova. I fell in love with some of her paintings--various inspirations from Klimt and Van Gogh but the style absolutely, uniquely, her own. I didn't find her work overly expensive for what it is--I'm dreadfully tempted by a piece I definitely can't afford though. I was both enthused and moved by her colours and iconography. Now how do I get me the pieces I want? HMMM...have no firstborn to sell...when will I be able to afford the art I want? Maybe, say, after I can afford to move my stuff to Europe from the storage locker somewhere in the bowels of Richmond? I want 3 pieces from her collection...total 4200 Euro. Now is that too much to ask out of life? Again...HMMM. I wonder if she'd take Hazuki in trade (sorry Puddy Tat). But paintings, no matter how lovely, don't wake you by jamming themselves in the negligable space between man and wife purring loudly so the first thing wife experiences in the morning is silky fur pressed against her cheek with the sounds of a motor running. Can't trade that for art. It's performance art, Cat Style.

Our lovely curator recommended walking to the "pond" in the castle park. So we did...and it was amazing. The fall colours were out in full glorious golden force, with miles of parkland and lakes and canals. Not to mention various 16th century bridges and grotto and "outbuildings" like the mini-castle (also 16th century) with a tiny passenger ferry on a cable to get you to the island. We rented a peddle boat and cruised around just before dusk. There was another couple on the lake--but they were on a floating wicker sofa. With a motor and boatsman. We had to WORK to get around. :) There was also a remarkable children's playground, and a jumping ring/corral for horses (don't know the real name for it--but also the same age but still in use). There are paths only for riding as well. Apparently people come in the winter to skate on the canals too. It is a place to which we want to return. There's a "Postbus" from just down the street that takes us there in 35 minutes, for about $2.50. The Postbuses date from the days when the "Post" wagons carried passengers and dropped them off at Hotels Zur Post (Inns). These still exist in every village. I told CK that I want to stay in one--just for the history. After all the 17th/18th/19th literature I've studied I want to feel like I'm recreating a journey--albeit dressed in technology--that Jane might have taken. Had Austen ever left Hampshire.
Smelling the leaves, seeing the turning trees, hearing the lapping of the water, all made CK nostalgic for nature today. When we got home tonight, he wrote up a list of what he wants: a mountain hut for the weekends, easily accessible by car even in winter, no other houses in sight. Preferably in Styria or Kaernton. There are countless mountain huts here in Austria, most of which, if they are still in use, are used as inns to keep them financially viable. So we'll start looking. I think what he's aiming for is a sort of time-share--but ideally only with the owner. It sounds like heaven.

Although Vienna is no bigger than Vancouver, due to its layout and history it feels like a more urban centre. Every "house" (apartment building) nearly is mixed-use (see Jane Jacobs, "The Death and Life of Great American Cities" for urban geography inspiration). That makes city living easy, viable and safe--but essentially urban. We are slowly getting to know the parks around our area, which helps us get into "the nature" as people here say. There's another "Kur Zentrum" Oberlaa (cure centre, which means holistic spa) about 15 min.'s drive away, with, again, acres of parkland and trails and "ponds", which are more like small lakes. I believe it is due to the sheer numbers of people in Europe in a relatively small landmass that make people here value their (extensive and well-cared-for) green spaces. Many of my students go "to the mountains" on their weekends. They hike a lot here. Sunday family outings often involve church in the morning (VERY Catholic country), then a drive to the mountains for a hike in the afternoon.


Well, after a perfect day, it's bedtime. I'd plans to make some more salt bars (cold-process soap with a 1:1 ratio of sea salt to oils) tonight but it's going to be a short night before a long week. So instead I mixed the essential oils I want to use to scent the soap so they can blend overnight, and I have oatmeal and sea salt and fennel soaking in distilled water to mix with lye and oils tomorrow. I love my salt soap. Taking two drying ingrediants--coconut oil and salt--and mixing them to create an amazingly moisturizing soap is a miracle of synergy. I made some last week with the intent of creating an Earl Grey tea scent in a "winter" bar for dry skin in wintry air--and it worked! They smell like Earl Grey and they are like lotion on your skin after showering. And they've not even fully cured. They don't cut well (too hard) so they ain't the purtiest gals on the block but oh! how I love them:) The latest creative fad for me...addictive process. This week I have to carve out some time in my insane schedule to meet with a local fashion designer to arrange for her to sell my soap in her shop. A mutual friend is setting this up and I'm very excited about it. I also have a meeting with a company to teach English to a logistics company. Great pay, difficult schedule. How did my simple life get so busy AGAIN? I vowed when I moved to Vienna I would embrace the quiet life of solitude and introspection I long for. So where is It?

Canadian identity

excerpt from an email to Luana:

Did you vote today? I have thought less, and more, about Cdn identity since moving here. We are always reflected in light of the US. How we compare. I have also often thought that our international reputation is interesting--for Europeans, we represent nature, nature, nature. I've only had a few students say that Canada is the same as the U.S. My response was that Austria and Germany are the same, then? But you have the same language? They get the point immediately. They feel towards Germany as we do to the U.S. Yes, big powerful neighbour (Germany is the economic, sports, medicine, science, technology powerhouse of Europe. It's the second largest country in Europe--France is the biggest--but Germany is the clear leader in everything) But Germans are big and loud and wear ugly clothes, and Austrians are soft-spoken and charming and much more stylish and petite and have a sense of humour. Or so the Austrians believe. But I have to agree. A different history makes for a different folk. I love the Austrians, but I find the Germans somehow comforting. They're so damn competent. Brisk. No room for error. Precise. CK says that if he ever gets sick he's heading for the border immediately. My point is that the parallels between US/Canada and Austria/Germany are significant. We're a bigger country than the US geographically, but smaller in population and pop culture. Austria is smaller than Germany, but used to be much, much bigger (Austro-Hungarian Empire) in living history. But never as dominant. A student in my evening course said something interesting tonight. She's doing her PhD in International Criminal Law, in English, her boyfriend is Norwegian also doing his PhD in Vienna. They use English at home as their common language. Her view as to why the Scandinavians and the Dutch have such fantastic English, and why the French and Italian and Spanish have none, and Germans/Austrians/Swiss are somewhere in the middle, is due to TV. The S. and D. don't have dubbing on TV. They have English-only(American) programming, with subtitles. Other than the sad fact that T.V. is such a big part of our lives, it also struck me that it is AMERICAN t.v. That also explains why I am told over and over and over that people here understand my Cdn (vs. British) accent so well. I'm told almost daily how clearly I speak. Wasn't aware of it before. They're used to t.v. with accents like mine. Which is why Cdns have difficulty establishing identity. Next to a neighbour with such incredible world presence, how do you be yourself without being a faint, slightly bland shadow of your neighbour, who happens to be the leader of the free world? And the most powerful country in the entire world? And the richest? and the most wasteful? and the fattest? okay, added the last one out of spite. But it is true. Yet the American scientists, doctors, athletes, movie-makers dominate the world stage. Why? I think it's all marketing and promotion. And having a population from which you can glean the best then train them. I think middle America--the vast majority-- is made up of right-wing daft morons. Dumb as toast, as Tova says. But you are likely to get some stars out of a population of 340 million. Statistically impossible not to.

Promotion: Self-promotion, in particular. One thing that has struck me over and over and over in Austria is how they work damn hard on making sure people buy Austrian products. Every grocery store, and each product packaging, has a little red-and-white Austrian flag on the package and on the price sticker. The message is loud and clear--buy Austrian. Made in Austria. Unique to Austria. I could not tell you one single thing that is made or produced in Canada. Can't Canada market itself better to its inhabitants? Okay, bananas are not viable, nor kiwi fruit. But how about Cdn beans, or berries, or pasta from our breadbasket, Saskatchewan? Or fish from our 3 oceans? or apples from our orchards? Milk from our cows in Chilliwack? Cheese from Quebec? All that mustard grown on the prairies. Can't we process it ourselves then proclaim it loud and clear that this product is not sold to the U.S. which then manufactures it then sells it back to us? granted, our distances are oh, just a bit farther to transport than in Austria. No question. But there's no import/export taxes, no fighting internally about lumber/NAFTA disputes, free-trade agreements. Just ship the damn stuff within the country and have local companies produce it and sell it back to Canadians. I'll bet if that on every price sticker on every store shelf there was a proud little Maple Leaf flying, people would want to buy it. Then there's the issue of pricing. Why is it more expensive to buy (sadly, sometimes still inferior) Canadian wines than Californian wines? It makes no sense. Taxes, schmaxes. In France it's cheaper to buy French wine, in Italy it's cheaper to buy Italian wine, in Austria it's cheap to buy all wine (and that would be why I'm living here!!!) but especially Austrian wine. So WHY is it more expensive to buy Cdn wine in Canada than other countries? Do they not WANT to sell? okay, this has become a rant.

about Cdn style: Particularly loved the mag you sent me last year. That was great. Made me so proud. The problem with such a large country is that it means different things to different regions. I think our style is not fussy. Cosy. Warm. For me that means wood and creamy white. For Jody that means orange and red. As to rustic, as much as I love Tawnya's gorgeous products and drool-worthy website (I was on there again last night, dreaming of being as talented as she is), I'm not earthy rustic girl. I'm essentially urban Canadian woman. And that brings me full circle to your email. What is Cdn femininity? it's a good question you pose. (A digression: Maple syrup doesn't exist as a product in eastern nor northern nor western Cdn. It's Ontario/Quebec. So I do balk at that as being symbolic of Canada:)

back to topic: I think the Cdn woman is sensual, a bit reserved (oh! how like me!), elegant, but practical. And witty. But that might just be my friends:) I think of Pam, chopping down trees with her axe to make tent poles for us each night while driving to the Yukon, setting up camp while I made cocktails on the tailgate. She would go hack down a sapling, strip it, hone the ends into points, drive it into the ground, then start dinner on the campstove, looking chic all the while in her cute black hat and sweater, without breaking a perfect, polished nail. And she's absolutely elegant. I, however, was camping-retarded. But I slept well. Being refreshed must be a style statement of its own. Of course, she did attempt to kill my snoring, and by default me, one night by forcing a pillow over my face and screaming "shut UP, shut UP for God's sake", but she was still elegant, if dementedly so at that sleep-deprived minute.

CK is pondering the issue of what he thinks is the Canadian identity, from the perspective of him as a person and a German. Will get back on the topic when he gets back to me.