Vienna day 2: an adventure in languages

I set out to start my day with the goal of being a productive and efficient tourist. I walked around a lot, got lost a lot and it rained a lot. Getting lost actually has its advantages while travelling, somehow I usually stumble onto something exciting and unknown. That day it was a HUGE farmers/flea market. I ate beautiful dried papaya (not exactly very Austrian…) bought locally made soaps and got hollered at in Italian. On the subject of languages, during my walks a man urgently yelled at me in Japanese warning me about the oncoming train that I was standing in the way of. I thanked him in English. Not too much sightseeing, apart from some things I saw the day before, BUT I was able to find the much sought after (by me) Lomo Shop. It is the original store for Lomography cameras and the birthplace of my dear Diana (http://microsites.lomography.com/diana/). An amazing falafel sandwich and an espresso later the sun was setting and I needed to figure out my sleeping arrangements! I have a friend from Austria that I met a couple years ago while travelling in South Africa and he had set me up to spend the night at a commune where a few of his friends live, he was doing research in some forest and would only return the next day. To my disappointment the phone number I had didn’t work so I went off to hostel search.

There was a space at the first place I went to, ‘The Wombat.’ I slept in a unisex dorm style room with 8 beds, one of which was occupied by Daniel, a Polish street performer working his way across Europe and two of which were occupied by unnamed Koreans who’s PSPs never left their hands. I began a mini-trek for dinner, and ended up eating pizza at an Italian restaurant with 3 professional badminton players from Spain, Portugal and Czech Republic, who full of woe because of their losses. Going back to the hostel I spent some time reading an American novel in the common area, while a girl was talking on the phone in Japanese on my left side, and a German couple were skyping on my right. I called it a night, had a restful sleep and woke up the next morning to the surprise that males occupied 7 of the beds in my room.

A city famous for musicians, strudel and a giant ferris wheel? Does such a magical place actually exist?

Well my good friends, it does exist, AND is also famous for museums, artists, opera, little boys singing, and a Hitler speech. Sound amazing doesn't it?

I took a train from Dinton to the airport late at night. My sleepover with strangers in the terminal was necessary because of my early flight. I didn’t mind the snoring, the unattended baggage, or the unusual closeness to another person when we slept head or head, toe to toe or head to toe on the benches. It was peaceful like naptime in kindergarten… except everyone was much older.

I arrived in Vienna, followed my dad’s directions, somehow getting onto all the right undergrounds, and got to his swanky hotel without a hitch. I took a much-needed shower and nap, had my first experience with room service (wonderful!), and then began to wander the streets. In a funny way of balancing my ease of travel in the morning, I wandered in the complete opposite direction of all the happening areas. My dad and I found each other when he was done work for the day and then the real sightseeing started. (Having already spent a week there he was quite a good tour guide!) Historically, Vienna was the capital city and cultural centre for the entire Ottoman Empire. So its no surprise when you experience the history and culture of the city, its just surprising that it belongs to a geographically small country. I also feel like I never have to go to Italy, because the obvious influence of the Roman Empire makes you feel like you are already there.
It is a city FULL of museums. From ones you would expect such as Austrian art or natural history to museums that showcase medical oddities or just globes. Yes… globes. We took a few steps into most of them, but none tickled our fancy enough to go all the way in, and we were short of time! We saw the parliament buildings, Stephansdom (their famous cathedral) the national library and its grounds (location for the infamous speech given by Hitler http://www.thirdreichruins.com/vienna.htm) walked though the streets closed off to cars but open to the people, ate strudel, drank espresso and gave special thanks for bilingual menus. At city hall we watched people ice skate, drank gluwine (warm wine), apple cider with apple chunks and ate freshly fried potato chips. (at which point we sent a picture to tease my mother about all she was missing out on)
Then it was time for the evening festivities. We put on our Sunday best and walked down the street to Vienna’s oldest opera house, the staatsoper. We checked in our coats, rented mini binoculars (they look exactly how you imagine they would) and found our seats, SO close to the orchestra and stage that brought Beethoven’s operas to life for the first time. This was an amazing place to people watch. The glitz, and the people in the glitz, almost etched permanent binocular circles around my eyes. We were underdressed, my dad was an inch away from wearing jeans and I was wearing a second-hand dress. But we enjoyed the show (Giuseppe Verdi’s Falstaff), awed at the sets and costumes, marvelled at the lungs of the singers and talent of the musicians, and laughed along with the plotline. We had dinner at a wonderful Indian restaurant, (this was a huge leap for my Dad’s taste buds, but in a country famous for schnitzel and wieners, mine won) and shared our now traditional beer in another country. I slept like a baby.
We parted ways early in the morning, him for the airport and me for the breakfast buffet. After my stomach was more then full, I put my belongings on my back, whipped out a map and began the day.

(I swear part 2 is coming soon)

a few anecdotes...

We don't use a dryer here. Why machine dry your clothes when you can hang them outside or in a warm pool room? This, along with being environmentally friendly and better for your clothing, gives an interesting insight to the people that you are living with. Its not everyday that you get to see the bras and nickers of a boss or employee. Can you learn something about a person by what style, colour and designs they wear hidden under their clothes? or learn something about how people interact by comparing their underwear? or are they just meaningless pieces of fancy loincloth?

I had my first driving lesson last week! I drove a manual car, on the left side of the most narrow country roads you can imagine. (so narrow that the 'left' side IS often the right side and you have to pull over on the grass for another car to pass) Driving was a less nerve wracking than I imagined, switching gears wasn't bad, but I was bad at picking the right one, and the first time I stopped at a traffic light I stalled 3 times when trying to start up again. All in all my instructor Clive said I wasn't too shabby! Ok, so I drift to the right side of the road and I brace for death everytime another car is on the road... but im sure those things will pass. On a slightly different note, Clive spent about 20 minutes explaining to me why immigrants are ruining his country and the good old British way of life. :|

Ive had an interesting relationship with one of the ladies that comes over to help every few days. The first time I met her I was holding my lunch, a plate with crackers, hummus and veggies in a pile that was dauntingly high. She looked at it and said, "You'll waste away on tha' you will!" I was thrown off by the encounter, but have come to really enjoy the bluntness of her company. The other day we were having a conversation about why such a nutritiously pointless vegetable like celery was always in the house, and she said, "celery is mother nature's biggest mistake."

One of my tasks of today was to collect the chicken and duck eggs. The ducks were out on the pond when I took theirs, but the hens were keeping a watchful eye on me as I got closer to their coop. Like a nifty fox I opened the back hatch and stole the 3 eggs. By this time the beige chicken was about an inch away from me, cooing, clucking and cocking her head as if to say, "What in gods name are you doing stealing from me?" I actually talked back.

Brittany Medeiros: country girl in training

I think it would be fair to say that at home I am an individual who is pretty connected to the world. I try my best to be a positive global citizen through choices like what I eat and wear, how I transport myself from point A to B, what forms of literature and media I chose to inform myself with and what resources I consume. Unfortunately, however much I love the wilderness, most these efforts don't really transfer over to a 'country' way of life... which for some reason I thought they would. So as a result I am constantly being learning about a different way of living, which is often at odds with the obvious city girl in me. The only skill I really have to transfer over is my love for cooking real, whole, unproccessed foods.

One morning Rosemary asked me if I wanted to go with her to take the dogs for a walk. I put on my sneakers, peacoat, was wearing jeans and started to look for leashes and poopy bags. She opened the back door, let the dogs loose, looked at my shoes and asked me if I brought hiking boots. I have never owned hiking boots in my life! She let me borrow a pretty pair of cherry red kicks and we were off (for some reason at this point I was still oblivious to the fact that walking the dog meant 'hike with the dog' so i didnt tie my laces...) We begin trekking through the forest poopy bag free, up, down and around hills, while the dogs were running, chasing wildlife and having the time of their lives. It was a pretty cold morning, but the skies were clear and the view was beautiful.
She asked me many questions such as, "do you have this kind of tree/bird/flower/animal in Canada?" I had to admit that I really dont know anything about Canadian wildlife aside from the obvious. She asked if I had a family dog that we took for walks, I said yes, but 'walk' in oakville has a very different meaning. Then I realized that the walk we were on was the first time I had really walked a dog.
We got back to the house, my untied laces, uncovered pant leg and socks (from not knowing how to properly take off muddy shoes) covered in mud, but it felt great.

Other notable 'country' things I have done so far? Turning off every source of heat in the house during the night (except for small space heaters), as opposed to the 3 degrees that is advertised at home. Feeding the chickens and ducks. Tending to your own compost heap (though I did learn some of that from becca!) and making cake with goats butter from the farm down the road and duck eggs from our ducks.

Oh and ive also rediscovered my love for the water and swimming, I can stay in the pool for hours! Though that is not really a country practice at all, yesterday the chickens watched me while I swam... does that count?

love!

p.s. I dont think i'll be posting pictures for a while, I may have forgotten the connecter cable thing at home...

inviting a stranger into your home

hello lovely people!

I guess by now you have gotten my email urging you to check out this amazing website/blog thing. While in Botswana I sent out weekly emails to a list of lucky recipients, telling them about my goings-on and the fun things I was learning along the way. This adventure is a little different because I brought my trusty mac with me and have access to the internet pretty much everyday. This doesn't mean i'll be posting everyday, but this give you the flexibility of checking in whenever you feel like a story and give me the opportunity to share some pictures and a bit more then a week crammed into a few paragraphs!

So lets begin by answering questions like: where the heck are you and what are you doing?

I left Canada on February 8th and 2 buses, 2 planes, 2 layovers, 1 train ride and a bag of dried fruits and nuts later, I was here! Well, almost. I arrived at a train station in Tisbury, about a 10 minute drive to Dinton, where the family I’ll be working/living with is living. A man named Jack (name changed because I have a horrible memory) came to pick me up. Jack is an older gentleman who is very used to driving on the country roads, but i'm not. The road is just bigger than one lane at home, but for 2 way traffic. He drives very fast even when another car is coming towards us and I get ready for what seems to be certian death. I hold my breath and as we pass the car is being brushed with bushes on the left, and is about an inch away from the other car on the right.
I'm working/living with Rosemary and Tilly. Tilly is in the midst of a long fight against lyme disease and her mother, Rosemary, works tirelessly to keep her on the recovery path and their house in order. My job is to pretty much help out wherever I can. Right now that means cooking some meals, doing some dishes, helping Tilly with her physio and medicine regimens, doing some art projects and making tea. Their diet consists of 99% organic whole foods, is very vegetarian friendly so i'm fed well and am very happy. They live in an old country house with a view that belongs to a 19th century English novel. From my bedroom window I see green rolling hills and old brick houses with smoke from the chimneys. There are also 3 dogs, 1 cat, 3 ducks and 2 chickens that live here, with the addition of Grunty the pig when we move houses. For the past few days I’ve been spending my free hours swimming in their indoor pool, hiking or just reading.

I think that’s about it for now. I have some stories and pictures but that will wait for another day.

love!