Leaving on a Jet Plane

Sunrise over Dubai

"This is the story of the musician Johannes Elias Alder, who took his own life at the age of twenty-two, after he had resolved never to sleep again."

And thus begins the classic Austrian novel Brother of Sleep by Robert Schneider. When Johannes falls in love with his cousin Elsbeth (ew!), he resolves never to sleep again until he had "plumbed the mystery of his impossible love," for time spent sleeping was time wasted by not loving. And as warped as this character may be, I can identify with him in my own particular way.

I just arrived back in Austria from Australia on Monday evening. It was a roughly 35-hour journey from Melbourne back to Graz, and due to my evening departure, I'd been up a good 40+ hours before climbing into my own bed. It's a time difference of 10 hours, and by all accounts, coming back home to Europe is supposed to be the killer leg of the journey. It's safe to say that I was pretty tired by the time I got home...and I looked like a strung out druggie with my watery red eyes and glassy gaze. But I was fine. Really.

You see, I have a bizarre immunity to jetlag.

It's largely inexplicable why I have this Gift of Travel, but as far as I can figure it boils down to this: I cannot sleep in moving vehicles of any kind. Train, plane, automobile, you name it--nary a wink of sleep. All those cheap overnight train rides through Europe: nada. All of my international flights: zilch. And somehow my body compensates for it. Whether it's adrenaline or simply a lesser need for shut-eye than the rest of my fellow man, somehow my body trudges through and still manages to perform on par. It's freakish.

The first time I travelled abroad was to Vienna, in the summer of 2000 at the tender age of 18. I remember experiencing jetlag for the first three days of being in Vienna--I had moments where I simply HAD to take a nap or collapse, my eating schedule was warped, and I don't really remember much of those first few days. But the au pair experience was so traumatic that on the flight home only three months later, I simply sat in my seat and stared blankly into the seatback in front of me, my mind racing. For the whole trip back from Vienna to Denver, I did not read, I did not watch movies, and I did not sleep. I simply stared, shell-shocked. And from that moment on, I've never exerienced jetlag again.

When I graduated from college in 2005 and took a trip to Australia to visit a friend, I thought that surely this jetlag thing would catch up with me. I'd already studied abroad for a year and had no problems, but that was merely a hop across the Altantic. Surely on the other end of the world, with a 16-hour time difference, I would be suffering. As a precaution for sleep, I drank two glasses of wine, took two sleeping pills (I'd heard second-hand that a doctor had said this wouldn't have any dire consequences!), stuffed my ears with earplugs and covered my eyes with the eye mask provided...and nothing happened. In spite of all that, I couldn't sleep a wink. So instead, I read 3 chronicles of Narnia and watched a few movies. I had no problems arriving in Australia, and no problems even on the return trip. And this convinced me: I simply don't get jetlag.

Even on my hellish return trip from Australia last year, where cancelled, delayed, and rerouted flights forced my trip home into a terrible 40-hour journey in which I arrived home at midnight and had to wake up at 5 a.m. the next morning for my first day of teaching at a new school, I bounced back with only the normal fatigue of a night out on the town. What's wrong with me??


It's a brilliant scheme, really: don't sleep on the journey, go to bed at a decent local time, sleep 8-10 hours, and then wake up adjusted to local time. If you can manage to NOT sleep on the plane, this is the anti-jetlag plan I strongly recommend for you! And having now conquered three trips to Australia and quite a few trips to and from Europe, it's my proven method...whether I like it or not.

So in my own way, I can identify with Johannes Elias Alder. It works. You can get a lot of ruminating done if you forgo slumber--whether because you're on an international flight or because you're incestuously obsessed with your cousin. Simply don't sleep till you're dead. ...Or at least until 10 p.m. local time.

My "Plus Two"

Back in December, I decided I wanted a pet. I'd love to have a cat one day, but that is completely impractical until I am settled in one place -- or simply in one continent -- for the long haul. As I thought about it, it made more sense to get something small...and, practically speaking, something with a short life span. As cliche as it sounds, I wanted something cute and cuddly (proportionate to its size, of course) to keep me company. I mentioned this to one of my teachers, and she kindly offered to drive me to the closest thing Austria has to a pet megastore, located in a little village only accessible by car.

Right after school on our first day back after the holidays (also, coincidentally, on my birthday), we drove to Vogelfarm ("Bird farm"), which -- contrary to the image conjured up in my head of a greenhouse swarming with birds of all kinds -- carries everything from birds to cats to hedgehogs to monkeys to tarantulas. Just to name a few.

I went in thinking I'd get a mouse. Maybe a hamster. But as we found the rodent room, there were so many more choices to be made. Not only were there mice and hamsters of all kinds, but there were also gerbils and rats and things that weren't gerbils and rats but looked like gerbils and rats. The chinchillas were adorably tempting, but much too large and sporting much more longevity than suited my needs. So we stood around looking at the mouse-to-rat-sized creatures for awhile and then finally did what any good Austrian would do: we let ourselves be advised. (Apologies for clunky yet literal translation.)

We flagged down a sales associate who looked about 20 years old, and I explained to her that I wanted something small, maybe a mouse, that was cute but wouldn't live very long. My teacher was horrified at my wording, but the girl didn't even blink and promptly started pointing out various rodents on the wall, explaining their particular traits and qualities. The mice quickly lost their appeal when she explained that that were relatively stinky creatures, but the dwarf hamsters -- the same size as mice, and similar in appearance (though markedly cuter) -- were relatively odor free.

The sales girl left us to decide what we wanted, and now I had three different kinds of dwarf hamster to choose from. After another 10 minutes or so of observation, I was ready to make my decision.

And this is where the fun started. I knew I wanted a pet, but I didn't know how much that simple decision entailed. For a creature no larger than a mouse, there were already pages of government-mandated animal rights laws governing every aspect of my decision.

First, I had to take not one but two hamsters -- they are creatures of companionship and can only be bought in pairs (see 1. Article § 31 Paragraph 2 below). Secondly, I couldn't pick and choose from the different types...apparently the different breeds have a tendency to kill each other. So I chose the cutest (and the ones I saw playing in their sand bath): the Dshungarischer Zwerghamster. (After nearly 20 minutes of searching on the Internet, I found its English name: the Winter White Russian Dwarf Hamster...say that 10 times fast!) Then, after I chose my hamsters, I had to get all of their supplies...oh boy.

According to Austrian law (1. Article § 31 Paragraph 2 of the Animal Protection law to be exact), my Winter White Russian Dwarf Hamsters need a cage that is at least 23.5" x 12" x 16" (60 x 30 x 40 cm )...and this for a creature that grows to be 3" - 4" long! This is a BIG cage in comparison. And they have 3 levels, which is way more than I have. Then I HAD to get a hamster potty. ...Wait, a what?? That's right--hamsters in Austria are so advanced that they use a litterbox!! I've seen it with my own two eyes! And when they don't use it as a litterbox, they play in it and take sand baths...so advanced! Then of course there was the water bowl (yes, they also drink water from bowls, not bottles), the food dish, the food ,vitamin supplements for the water, the salt lick, the chewy gnawy thing so their teeth don't grow to obscene lengths, and of course the shavings AND the straw for the bottom of the cage. They're pretty much outfitted for a nuclear holocaust.

Naming my new roomies was much harder than I expected, and it took me nearly a week to settle on their names: Holly Golightly and Cotton Ball. Holly Golightly is distinguishable by the lighter-gray stripe on her back and her curious and outgoing nature. But, like the Holly Golightly of literature and film, you can try to get close but if you get too personal, she gets spooked and runs away. But she's friendly and nice and doesn't mind being held (though she has a habit of giving love bites if your fingers are dangling in front of her like a carrot). Cotton Ball has a darker gray stripe down her back and is relatively shy. She doesn't mind being held, but she's hard to catch! When she eats, she squinches her body up and looks like a cotton ball -- you could just pick her up and dip her in astringent and clean your face with her. She runs -- a lot -- and my roommate jokes that Cotton has trained more for the half marathon than she has!

Holly and Cotton have a life expectancy of 2-3 years....a little longer than I'd bargained for, but maybe things will work out and I can stay longer in Austria after all...

How David Hasselhoff Saved the World

I thought I'd post a brief history of the Berlin Wall--about it's sudden overnight construction and its equally sudden fall--but then I realized that, although the story could be a fascinating one, there is no way for me to make it brief. Instead, I'll share one of the more random and lesser known bits of Berlin history.

The photo above -- DAVID HASSELHOFF SAVED THE WORLD -- is a message tagged on buildings, walls, and other graffiti-covered surfaces (of which there are many!) around Berlin. If you were to notice it walking by, you might chuckle to yourself about the unusual popularity of David Hasselhoff in the German-speaking world, but you probably wouldn't think twice about it.

By the time the Berlin Wall fell in November 1989, David Hasselhoff was already an extremely popular singer in Germany and Austria, and his newest ballad Looking for Freedom had already been the #1 hit in West Germany for several weeks. With lyrics such as, "I've been lookin' for freedom; I've been lookin' so long; I've been lookin' for freedom; still the search goes on," it's no wonder that the song spoke into the hearts of a nearly reunified Germany. Hasselhoff was invited to play a concert at the Brandenburg Gate on New Year's Eve of 1989, where he belted out the hit atop a partially demolished Berlin Wall to nearly a million East and West German fans.

Later, Hasselhoff remarked on this event in an interview with the German magazine TV Spielfilm on a publicity tour through Germany, saying he felt he'd moved people on both sides of the wall...admitting, however, that very few of the East Germans could speak or understand English. Feeling that his performance helped unite the East and West Germans in attendance at the New Year's Eve concert -- thus leading to the reunification of Germany, which just happened to coincide with the fall of the Iron Curtain and the end of the Cold War -- he told the reporters: "I find it a bit sad that there is no photo of me hanging on the walls in the Berlin Museum at Checkpoint Charlie." Indeed, he was deeply moved by the experience himself: "After my appearance I hacked away at pieces of the wall that had the black, red and yellow colours of the German flag on it. I kept the big piece for myself and gave the smaller pieces to colleagues at Baywatch."

By highlighting his own important role in the reunification of Germany, and consequently the end of the Cold War, David Hasselhoff tells us -- in his own words -- how he saved the world. ...And maybe that does deserve a photo in the Checkpoint Charlie Museum after all...

Alive and Kicking in 2009

After surviving NaNoWriMo, I found myself thrown into December with the holidays quickly approaching. I had every intention to write about the Austrian Christmas traditions in fascinating and epic detail, but between school and everything else...well...yeah. It's the holidays.

Promptly after Christmas, I flew to Berlin for a week to visit a good friend from college who was back visiting her family for the holidays. Again, I intended to write copious logs of my travels, but when I arrived back in Graz on January 1, unfortunately somewhat sick, all I wanted to do was watch "The Office" for hours on end for the next few days until I had to go back to school again.

After my birthday, I thought that I would surely, surely come back to my blog and write...but then there just seemed to be so much to make up. So, in short, I've decided to give a brief photo summary of the last month, and then I'll come along later and post more highlights.

So without further ado, I bring you...

THE HOLIDAY SEASON

Advent in Graz:

The city of Graz comes alive in the Advent season with Christmas markets, decorations, and events. Every year there is an ice nativity in the inner courtyard of the Amory, and I happened to actually catch it this year before it melted!

Glühwein and the First Snow of the Season:

One of the most fabulous Christmas "traditions" I can think of is meeting up with your friends at the Glühwein (mulled wine) stands at the Christmas market. It may be cold, but that nice warm spicy wine makes standing outside super appealing. Here we are with the first Glühwein AND the first snow of the season! (And I love how the snowflake on the right makes my friend look like a pirate!)

The Prettiest Fire Hazard Ever:

Austrians light up their trees with real candles. Sounds scary at first, but it's a beautiful effect, and far less scary if you have a bucket of water nearby. Traditionally, trees don't go up until the 24th--the day Christmas is celebrated in Austria--and don't come down till January 6, or Three Kings Day (Epiphany). It's the Christkind--"Christ Child", or basically a little blond-haired baby angel with wings--who flies in through the window on the afternoon of the 24th when the children are suitable distracted and puts up the tree and leaves the presents. On the way out, the Christkind rings a bell, and the child knows that the Christkind has been there! Time to open presents!

An American Tradition:

I had the good fortune to celebrate Christmas twice this year--once on the 24th, Austrian-style with Austrians, and then again on the morning of the 25th, American-style, with an American friend and her husband. Later that day we again celebrated Austrian-style: going to lunch with family...or an Austrian family, anyway.

Berlin:

What can I say? Berlin was an awesome city. I arrived on the 26th, when it was still in all of its Christmas glory--here you can see just one of the many ferris wheels at the various Christmas markets around the city. I stayed mostly on the East side, but between the tours and museums and history, I was hooked. I've got to go back.

Remnants of the GDR:

The East German TV tower is just one of the many remants of East Germany's past. It was contructed to boast of East German engineering, but since Berlin makes a city out of swampland, the original tower designed by East German engineers kept sinking. Literally overnight, Swedish engineers were secretly flown in with the expertise necessary to fix the plans, but when they got back, they broke their secrecy agreement. East Germany was embarrassed in the eyes of the West, but thanks to the ever-convenient policy of media censorship, the East Germans were none the wiser and ended up admiring the tower as their own handiwork and beacon to the world. Berlin is chock full of interesting history like this, and I couldn't get enough of it.

The Berlin Wall:

No visit to Berlin would be complete without a visit to the Wall. The history of the wall is intriguing--it literally came up and fell down overnight! It was so fascinating that I bought a book on the subject...and then 4 more books having to do with Berlin as well!

New Year's Eve:

New Year's Eve in Berlin is CRAZY. It's like being in a war zone. The city is crazy wild, with firecrackers and fireworks going off in every street all night long. Everyone is outside partying, and in their festive spirit, sometimes they throw a firecracker on passersby or under cars--one bounced off my leg before exploding! The police watch all of this go down--it's normal. And then some poor city worker is left to clean the streets in the wee hours of the mourn from more debris than I've ever seen in my life.

My Birthday--The Last Holiday of the Holiday Season:

I celebrated my birthday on a Wednesday--a school night--with some close friends in Graz. First stop was Chi-Chi's, our local Austrian Tex-Mex, where I got the closest thing to an "authentic" margarita I could find...and then they brought out this flaming birthday surprise! Oh, and they also let me keep the sombrero. Then we went to my favorite Austrian restaurant where, amazingly, the give you a free 4-course meal on your birthday! Can't argue with that! Then on Friday I had a joint party with a friend who shares my birthday at her spacious apartment on the edge of town. The theme was CREME ACABRIA--an anagram of our names (Rebecca/Maria)--and we encouraged our guests to come in costume, dressed as whatever they interpreted CREME ACABRIA to be. ...There was certainly a lot of coffee represented though...

AND FINALLY......

Holly Golightly and Cotton Ball:

I decided I needed a pet. A pet that offered somewhat cuddly companionship with a short life span...so I got some birthday hamsters. Not just any hamsters though--Dschungarischen Zwerghamster, which, after an inordinate amount of online searching, I discovered are called Winter White Russian Dwarf Hamsters in English. They're the size of mice, but much more adorable and have amazing skills like using a litter box...yes, Austrian hamsters are THAT amazing. They'll probably be getting their own blog entry soon... :)

Surviving NaNoWriMo

I did it. I survived. I spent the month of November writing a novel.

At the end of October, before I started the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) challenge, one of my good friends took me aside and expressed her concern: she was worried that a month of writing would send me into my own little bubble of self-absorption and selfishness...Basically, she didn't think it would be good for me. So I promised to take her words to heart and try not to fall into omphaloskepsis.

By the third week of November, she took me aside again. This time, however, it wasn't out of concern. She reminded me of what she'd said in October and then told me that those concerns couldn't be farther from the truth. She'd never seen me so driven or motivated before--and it wasn't just in writing. I had focus: I not only scheduled times for writing, but also for exercise and for quiet times and for the other things I always mean to do but tend to push aside. It wasn't until she expressed this that I saw it myself--she was right: writing changed my life, but not just because I could now call myself a novelist.

Of course there were things that got postponed...like cleaning...washing dishes...doing laundry...doing anything social... These were the minor yet predictable results. Did it bother me that my room looked like this?

Or that my dust bunnies were mulitplying by the minute and scampering around my floors whenever I walked by? Or that I used every last dish in the place until I was forced to take a break and wash up?

Well, yes, it did. But it was super convenient because my roommates came and went so much in November that I only really had one week when I didn't have the apartment to myself. (...Not to mention that that 5-hour cleaning blitz felt really good after it was over....) So I pretty much had an apartment free of distractions in which to write. My opera subscription didn't cover any operas in November, so all of my Thursday nights were free. And I started at the new school where I did a slew of introductory lessons--I didn't have to plan a single lesson (which tends to take me 4-8 hours per lesson) for the entire month!

I wouldn't have been able to put my finger on it without the helpful insight from my friend, but my month of writing was good for me--it gave me more focus and got me into some good habits.

For one thing, I made writing a priority. I made sure I wrote a minimum of 1667 words every day, striving for more if I could. Because I spent so much time writing, I got antsy. So I started running--every day. I actually got to the point where I was looking forward to my runs, and when it was raining too hard to go out I seriously felt like something essential was lacking from my day. My endurance improved, my flexibility improved...and then I got shin splints, so I had to stay in and write more whether I wanted to or not! One of the biggest discoveries of NaNoWriMo is: I write best in the mornings. Yes, that's right. My life has turned upsidedown and I am now one of those people who is most productive in the morning. This is a truly mind-boggling phenomenon, because all through high school and college I couldn't even think of writing anything before 9 p.m. My creative juices were at their peak between 9 p.m. and 3 a.m. Now, I've found, I work best between 8 a.m. and 1 p.m. It kind of freaks me out actually, because it seems far more grown up than my previous pattern. But so it is. I've found that a simple morning can demolish even the most stubborn case of writer's block. Amazing.

Perhaps the most amazing thing from my NaNoWriMo experience is that I feel like I've found a niche. I love writing this book. Even the tough days when writer's block drove me crazy were wonderful days spent forcing those words out like garlic from a garlic press. I find myself now fantasizing about my life as a writer--a big, big dream right now--but totally a place where I could find my groove. Janet Fitch, the author of White Oleander says, "But the essence of fiction writing is creating a character you love and, frankly, torturing him. You are both sadist and savior." And playing this role has totally driven me to write what I hope is going to be a great book.

I've writen a total of 57,768 words, or 145 pages...but I'm only halfway through my story. I've met the 50,000-word challenge, but I still have a long way to go--I've got a lot of torture still up my sleeve, and then a possible deliverance to take care of. I'm totally grateful to NaNoWriMo for getting me started on this project, and I'm excited about finishing it. And then, who knows... :)

Thus Spoke Zarathustra

I name this entry thusly, not because I'm reading Nietzsche or have any idea what this particular work of his is about, but because these were the first words on my mind when I was startled awake this morning by a grating sound outside my window.

Before going to bed last night, I had accomplished a milestone 45,676 words on my book--officially only 5000 words from the finish line. (However, I've just introduced the wolf in sheep's clothing to my protagonist, and I'd say I've got another several tens of thousands of words to go before I'm really done...) I nodded off to sleep wondering, "I'm 10,000 words ahead of schedule...I wonder what kind of little treat God's got for me as a little reward..." (Again, not a theologically sound argument, but maybe a step up from my waking thoughts of Thus Spoke Zarathustra...)

So when I woke up to Nietzsche and the scraping sound outside my window at 6 a.m., I knew. This was my reward!

I went to the window and looked out, and this is what my extra 10,000 words looked like:

(except it was 6 a.m., so it was still dark)

I was happy for my little treat, but perhaps in return for my bad theology, I couldn't fall back asleep. Instead I tossed and turned with Thus Spoke Zarathustra repeatedly running though my head with the occassional Also sprach Zarathustra (the original, untranslated title) jumping in. When I finally dragged myself out of bed two hours later, I was tired, confused (Nietzsche has that effect on people), and ready to share the first snowfall of the year with my lovely audience.

If you were an Austrian teenage girl...

...which famous people would be on your mind?

This past month, as I've mentioned before, I've been at the new school with all the girls. This has been fantastic, as most of my lessons have required little to no preparation, leaving me plenty of novel-writing time. I've done a lot of introductory lessons where I play the sentences game, introduce myself, and have a Q&A time where they can ask me anything about myself or America they can think of. (This year's highlights: What are Austrian men like compared to American men? Do you have a boyfriend? Would you get married and stay in Austria forever? ...Nary a question on war or guns and plenty of questions on boys...Yes, you can tell--I am teaching GIRLS!)

Usually this takes the whole lesson (and in one exceptional class, about 4-5 girls had their hands raised with burning questions right up until the bell rang!), but in a couple of classes the students opted for silence. Not even the usual questions such as 'Do you have brothers or sisters?' were asked. So then I turn the tables--I ask them questions. But eventually even I run dry of interesting things to ask them, and we're stuck with 10-15 minutes left in class...what to do?

I decided to play one of those time-filler games with a couple of particularly quiet classes, asking the girls to write the name of a famous person on a piece of paper, fold it in half, then pass it up to the front. Then I'd choose a student (my new favorite method, if there aren't any volunteers, is to ask, 'Is there anyone named Katharina in the class? No? How about Stefi?...' and so on...), seat her in front of the board, and then tape a name to the board behind her. She has to ask the class questions and try to figure out which famous person is behind her. (It's similar to 20 Questions, but not just yes or no questions.)

The funny thing is, this really gets into the psyche of an Austrian teenage girl. Who are they into? Who are their favorite singers/actors/etc.? I loved getting the answers because it is so telling about what's cool and in right now--and almost all of them were American! So, to give you an insight into what is on teenagers' minds today, here are some of their answers...

• Johnny Depp (Best question: 'Is he old?' They couldn't reach a consensus on this one--half of them thought he was old and half of them thought he was just kind of old!)


• Madonna (In contract to Johnny Depp, Madonna was considered 'very old.')


• Elvis Presley


• Heath Ledger


• Hillary Duff


• Bryan Adams (a surprising choice!)


• Britney Spears (by far the most popular choice, with 6 entries)


• Rihanna


• Paris Hilton (also very popular with about 4 entries)


• Orlando Bloom


• George W. Bush


• Heidi Klum (also pretty popular right now because of her show Germany's Next Top Model)


• Christiano Ronaldo (I had to look him up...)


• Brad Pitt (Britney Spears' counterpart, also entered 6 times)


• Pink


• Adam Brody (Yes, The OC has made it to Austria)


• Leonardo DiCaprio (I actually laughed out loud when I read this one, because I realized he was all the rage when I was their age too--around the time that Romeo + Juliet and Titanic came out...and after 12 years, he's still going stong in the hearts of teenage girls!)