Sunsets and Castles

Just returned from a rather photo-worthy weekend, half of which was unfortunately spent without a camera. Thanks to the www, however, I'll give you a glimpse.

Friday: A beer and a good chat in a deckchair with Sharifin, against the backdrop of one of the most spectacular sunsets I have seen in Vienna so far.


Saturday: Sorted my life out.

Sunday: My roommate Aglai and her brand-new fiancé Felix invited me along to a concert at the old fortress where Felix's family has lived for 23 (!) generations. Eight of us spent the afternoon hanging out at the pool and playing tennis (or watching, respectively) while the bands soundchecked, had a fabulous dinner and then joined the crowd for some German rock.

Clam Castle

The courtyard

The room I spent the night in looked kind of like this, with a spectacular view of the Danube valley

Mid-air

While I am hanging in mid-air between college and professional life, enjoying home and wanting to move abroad, coming to terms with the past and taking on the future, my blog-spiration has run a little dry. Sometimes the more important events of life take place on the inside, and lose their magic when exposed to the world.

While I wait for the kiss of the muse, a random list of things not to miss:


College memories: Ross Douthat's "Privilege: Harvard and the Education of the Ruling Class" is a book that aptly describes much of what I experienced at Babson and could never properly put into words - the insane careerism of under 21-year-olds, the American undergrad's approach to sexuality, dorm life, grade inflation, and more. Still, it's an intensely personal book, courageously honest, laugh-out-loud funny at times, and filled to the brim with thoughtful, well-researched yet appropriately ironic analyses of the peculiar universe that is the Ivy League school. I enjoyed it a lot - not least because my boyfriend makes quite a few appearances, suitably (though, for those who know him, recognizably) hidden behind a pseudonym...


A different kind of roommate: The latest Audrey Tautou movie does resemble Amélie - a frail girl, - lonely yet social, sad yet always smiling, fragile yet strong. The story of three unusual roommates is a good character study and a heart-warming story, but European enough to never cross the line towards Hollywood kitsch.


Risotto gone French: My own roommate Aglai and I enjoyed a girl's night in last night, and devoured the leftovers of a dinner she had hosted the night before. Crêpes au citron are delicious enough, but the Gorgonzola and pear risotto that she made was the best thing I've eaten since New York sushi.

Why we are ostriches

"Life is difficult." This is the opening sentence of one of the most interesting books I have read this year - The Road Less Traveled by M. Scott Peck.
Observing readers might have spotted it already a few months ago in the "Books on My Pile" section of this blog, but it was only today that I was reminded of its brilliance when I spoke to my mother about the challenges of life and responsibility.

What Peck makes very clear (in a much better way than I can) is that we would stop lamenting the difficulties of life if we just accepted the fact that life is not a walk in the park, but a series of problems that require solving. That is why we pose ficticious problems to children in school - we mean to teach them the discipline necessary to confront the large and small hardships of life.
It is only because we refuse to accept this fact - or simply ignore it - that it comes back to haunt us. The pain of confronting an issue that we have ignored and that has grown out of proportion is much greater than the pain of going ahead an finding a solution in the first place. And still, like ostriches, we stick our heads into the sand and pretend that life is only really worth living when it's entirely enjoyable.

I am no exception. The more important something is, the longer it takes me to actually get my act together and do something. Job applications. Car repairs. Insurance issues. Long-overdue thank-you notes. Why? I have no idea ... I guess it is because I, too, want life to be easy.

However, if I think about it, this is exactly what I don't want. Life without challenges is life without growth. Peck quotes Benjamin Franklin as saying "those things that hurt, instruct". Looking back at my life, the challenging times were the ones that made me grow most. Moves. Breakups. University and career choices. Arguments with friends and family. Tough bosses. Criticism.

And, quite frankly, if it weren't for problems, life would be ... incredibly dull.

(Take advantage of Amazon's "Search Inside" option and read the first four pages of Peck's book here. They will make your mouth water.)

Images

As promised...

Steaks at Santa Cruz and a trip to the mountains
A few from Nono and Dominic's pre-wedding part
A Karaoke/Pub Quiz Nerd Fest to say goodbye to Bridge
The first batch from Zita and Domenic's wedding last weekend

Weddings

It's been a while.

Sometimes life is too full to blog about, and some things are better kept safely stored away in the heart and mind. All I can say is, life remains the trip that I expected it to be, with many unexpected twists and turns, wonderful surprises, and memorable experiences.

In the last few weeks, I have seen two wonderful women get married, one of them from first-row maid-of-honor seats. Both wedding ceremonies were deep, meaningful and a joy to be part of, and I am more convinced than ever that tying the know for life is an ideal that is not only desirable, but realistic.

Nono and Dominic, July 7th 2007

Zita and Domenic, July 21st 2007

Photo post with updates on other events of the past weeks coming soon.

Interlude

Between preparations for weddings, attempts at researching for the thesis, and spending time with my personal V.I.P.s, there isn't a lot of blogging time.
We spent a spectacular weekend up in the mountains at my uncle Fritz's place a couple of weeks back, but all designated photographers have to far been unable to download and distribute the pictures. There's still hope that I will be able to post a few breathtaking photos from our hike and the evenings of Schnaps-drinking, card-playing, dancing and accordeon-playing in Fritz's living room very soon.

For now I leave you with a spectacular gift idea for people who just don't want to believe that life is beautiful.

(c) Despair.com

Interreligious dialogue

Last week, the US Undersecretary of State for Public Diplomacy, Karen Hughes, stopped by in Vienna on her tour through Europe (which, by the way, consisted of three days in Prague and two in Vienna). The purpose of her visit was to promote interreligious dialogue in Europe in the name of the American government.

Hmmm. I know.

Anyway, the editor-in-chief of the Catholic youth magazine I write movie reviews for called me up to ask me whether I wanted to represent the Christian side in an interreligious youth panel discussion held at a mosque in Vienna. Free (kosher) lunch, a chat with Karen Hughes, and national TV - how could I say no?
Narcissism aside, what I was really interested in was the interreligious discussion side of things, and how an such an event when organized, amongst others, by the American Embassy would turn out.

To relieve the suspense, I was a bit disappointed. Sure, there were highlights.
Michael, the Jewish panelist, had never been to a mosque before. In his religion, it is forbidden to enter churches or temples of other religions. He was genuinely touched by the hospitality of the Imam and the Muslim community.
I, for my part, think it might have been the first time ever that Jesus Christ was discussed in a mosque, at least in Vienna, and I enjoyed meeting youth leaders of other faiths.
Thirdly, the fact that a mosque opened its doors to a discussion like this was a sign of readiness for dialogue that people need to see.

However, the whole thing boiled down to the general assertion that there weren't, in fact, many significant differences between the three Abrahamitic religions, and that the ones that existed didn't really matter. I respectfully but firmly disagree. If we are going to leave aside the obvious differences between the religions, what are we left with to discuss?
I am all for connecting on a personal level, becoming more familiar with other faiths, and understanding in a deep and real way the motivations and philosophies behind other forms of worshipping and serving God - because, lets face it, suspicion and hatred feed on ignorance and fear.
But there are things I love about my faith that are central to it, and that other faiths do not share. I am not willing to pretend that these things do not matter, because they are at the very heart of my religion, and - maybe more importantly - an essential part of its beauty and truth. I am sure that Muslims and Jews feel the same, and it would be sad if they didn't, because their faith would mean little to them.

Unfortunately, between speeches on interfaith dialogue and accolades for U/S Hughes, there wasn't much space to talk about this. However, thanks to a comment from the audience (my mother, to be exact), I was able to squeeze in a quote that I think sums it up very well. It is a section from an article by Rabbi Jacob Neusner. He wrote a book called "A Rabbi Talks with Jesus", where he imagines that he listens to Christ's Sermon on the Mount and then enters into an intense dialogue with him, trying to understand his teaching from the perspective of a devout Jew. At the end of the book, he decides that he cannot follow Jesus, and must remain faithful to his religion - but not before he has earnestly tried to understand what Christ said. Here's the quote:

"Both Jews and Christians should find in "A Rabbi Talks with Jesus" the reason to affirm, because each party will locate there the very points on which the difference between Judaism and Christianity rests.What makes me so certain of that outcome? Because I believe, when each side understands in the same way the issues that divide the two, and both with solid reason affirm their respective truths, then all may love and worship God in peace - knowing that it really is the one and the same God whom together they serve - in difference."
(Read the full article. More interesting reading material on the subject: Sandro Magister's take on things and chapter five of Pope Benedict's latest book Jesus of Nazareth)

For those of you who speak German, here's a little video of the event.

And, as always, I am very much interested in your thoughts.

Music

Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossile to be silent.

-- Victor Hugo

Entertainers or egomaniacs?

This blog has turned into a quite boring series of rarely entertaining personal updates. I've been thinking: What is the reason for writing a personal blog? Why should one expect one's personal life to be interesting to others? And, lastly - how healthy is it to put one's own, relatively unimportant life at the center of a globally accessible website?

I think it was Mother Teresa who once suggested trying to go for a day without talking about oneself. To me, that seems nearly impossible! Also, I am not sure it is necessary. Still, the line between writing for the entertainment of others and falling into the trap of narcissism is thin.
I started this blog for various reasons - as a creative outlet, a space to play with a language that is not my own, an opportunity to express thoughts and describe incidents worth sharing, and a way to keep my internationally dispersed friends and family updated.
It works, but sometimes a weeklong lack of inspiration or material, combined with the desire to keep readers interested, results in a bunch of entries that are not really worth anyone's time.

So there.

Still, there's news.

The Skypad, version 2.0. It's not quite a clone of its original in NYC, maybe more like a second cousin. However, we are surrounded by luxury - a rooftop deck, views on church steeples and green hills, an open, airy living space, nice little rooms and even gems like wireless internet and an alarm system. Aglai and I have been living here for a week, and we really enjoy it! I also love having mom and Anna over for sunbathing and banana bread, and inviting Matthäus for a quick study break and lunch. Here's the photo tour.

Civil wedding. That "yes" doesn't really count yet, but Nono and Dominic said it anyway at the registry office yesterday morning, and now they are officially Mr. and Mrs. Pott. Scary, but great! Can't wait to see them walking down the aisle (or waiting at the other end, respectively) on July 7th - it's my first gig as maid of honor, and I do think I might have to fight off a few tears.

C'est tout. Any thoughs on the blog issue? Fellow bloggers? Lurkers? Random passers-by? Feel free to gush.

Finale

Pentecost weekend was spent enjoying a good read, the sun, long conversations in the hammock, fierce badminton matches, a BBQ, long walks, driving lessons, strange movies, the company of Marie, Jan, Bridge and Paula and also the family, which was complete for the first time since late August last year.

If everything goes smoothly and the weather holds up, the movers (yes, I caved) are coming tomorrow, and I should be sleeping in my new room for the first time tomorrow night.

Arabian nights

Picture a harem chamber somewhere in the depths of an Arabian city. The rhythm of pipes and drums, the swinging of coin belt-adorned hips, hands painted with henna, dimmed lights and the smell of shisha smoke, perfume and camel dung.

This was the setting of Nono's bachelorette party, which went down in our living-room-turned-serail yesterday. There were mountains of food, harem pants, beaded slippers, bare bellies, and a lot of shimmying and hip-shaking. Two harem teams were fighting for camels, which they needed to collect in order to earn the right to get married to Sheikh Dominic (Nono's fiance). The battle was fierce, and there was some haggling in the background, but they fought well and "Harem Aruus Al Nono" won the prize for the bride-to-be. We even had a eunuch to serve us drinks and work the video camera, but his identity will be kept a secret for the sake of his male reputation. All I can say is, he stood his ground like the real man that he is (and he is, don't you worry). [Pictures and videos are still being edited, but expect some fun shots in the near future.]

In other news:

• The move still isn't finished, mainly because my bed, wardrobe and desk don't fit into my car. However, chances are that I will be a citizen of Skypad II within the next week.
• Anna has returned from India, loaded with bangles, beaded slippers and beautiful fabrics of all sizes and colors. I am realizing that after nine months, it is good to have my sister around again. The stories will take a while to tell, but I am looking forward.
• Pentecost weekend will be spent at the Mill with the family, a guest from Portugal and Bridge, a friend from the States who is in Vienna for two months. The weather is great and I can't wait to get away from the humidity and the construction noise.
• I PASSED MY LAST EXAM! Just barely made it, but it's over, and now there is only the thesis left to write. Oh, it feels good.

Define "slim"

Remember I was planning on a slim move? Well, it turns out I am having trouble defining that word. So far the box count is up to four, and only half the room is empty - not counting in two huge Ikea bags of clothes and a pile of shoes. You would think that the eternal jeans-and-t-shirt girl is not part of the shoe collectors' guild. Well, dear friends, think again.
However, in between all that dust and cardboard, moving does provide for a few sentimental journeys: Old journals, photos, post cards, and even a love letter or two.

Wish me luck. Having to hire a moving service equals personal (oh, and financial) defeat.

Changes

I was planning a big "Hooray, I am done with exams forever" type of post, but alas, it seems that last exam is quite a chunk of work and just doesn't want to be passed. Results are out on the 22nd, lets see what the future holds.

Apart from that, I am starting to prepare for the big move to my very own Skypad in two weeks, which means getting rid of piles of junk that I have been hoarding in my closet and desk for the past seven years. This will be a slim move, and only the necessary things will be taken along. I will probably laugh at the amount of stuff I deem necessary once it comes to carrying boxes up to the fourth floor... Oh well.

Summer is here, and I enjoyed my city once again as I was having lunch in beautiful Volksgarten yesterday with my father and then spent the afternoon lazily walking around downtown with Isabel. Sharifin couldn't believe that a day of laziness made me tired, so we wrapped up the day with a drink or two and cozy deck-chair conversation on the banks of the Danube canal at Strandbar Herrmann. This place reminds me of a few international friends that I spent my evenings with in this same place last year. Now they are gone to faraway places like DC, Sydney and Madrid.

Life changes, all the time.

What counts

My sister returns from India in three weeks, and recently spent a week in Calcutta with the Missionaries of Charity (aka sisters of Mother Teresa). We didn't know whether to laugh or cry when we read her stories, given that the one thing she absolutely despises are worms, and some of her activities included picking them out of searing wounds... I will spare you further descriptions.

Here is a quote from her report:

"The atmosphere at work is hard to describe. Every day it happened that one of the patients I was feeding simply gave me a hug afterwards. Or that another patient didn't want anything else but to have me sit down next to her for a while and hold her hand. Or that someone suddenly put her hands on my head, mumbled a toothless "God blesssss you" and heartily kissed my hand.
You recieve so much from these people, who have nothing to give but their love and gratitude. It's true what Mother Teresa said: We have not come to the poorest of the poor to give, but to recieve. We need them more than they need us. That hits the nail on the head."

Monks who play punk

I've written about them already, but now they're getting big publicity: Check out this article on the front page of today's New York Times City section.

I went to the Catholic Underground a few times and was amazed every time at how deep these monks are, while managing to send crowds of 500+ teenagers into fits of laughter. It is not surprising that dozens of men want to join that order each year - they are serious about what they believe in, they live it, and they are so fulfilled by it that it shines through in their eyes and in every word they say.

Images

Finally, a few photos.

Farewell brunch in New York, March 17th. (more)


Medjugorje, Palm Sunday weekend. (more)

In case you don't know yet, late spring is the best time of year to be in Vienna. So, if you live here, get out your bike and go for a ride. And if you don't, get out ... well ... your credit card and buy tickets.

Catching up

I've been a real slacker on the blog - but somehow sometimes real life is full enough and does not need constant documentation on the web. Just some quick highlights of the past weeks:

Medjugorje. A little village in Bosnia where the virgin Mary is said to appear. Believe it or don't, but all I know is that this place gives you peace, the type of peace that reaches far deeper than regular relaxation does. I went there with a lot of questions, and came back with only little tiny fragments of the answers I expected, but a general consciousness that I needn't worry.

Easter. Anna, the eternal Easter egg duel champion and passionate chocolate bunny hunter, was sorely missed, and her absence gave the whole thing a bit of a grown-up flavor. She, in the meanwhile, was exploring the jungles of Tamil Nadu with her boyfriend Flo. Nevertheless, we had fun dying eggs with a few cousins, and enjoyed the family, the food and the brilliant weather at the Mill.

New place. In May, I will be moving out of the sibling apartment into a bit of a Skypad of my own. I'll be sharing an amazing little duplex on the roof with Aglai - complete with a balcony to sunbathe (oh yeah) and have breakfasts on lazy Saturday mornings. It still needs some work, but Aglai the styler will surely do a brilliant job.

Life in Vienna is good. New York has its irresistible charms, but there is something about the slow-paced charm of this city that gets me every time. Dodging horse-drawn carriages in the streets, people sitting around lazily in coffee houses, and a view of a beautiful gothic church from the window of the century-old university library... add in real summer weather in April, and try to beat that.

Resurrection

AS kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;

Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves—goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying What I do is me: for that I came.

I say more: the just man justices;
Keeps grace: that keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is—
Christ—for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.

- Gerard Manley Hopkins

Settling in, and out again

I'm settling in, slowly but surely. Kicked off my thesis project and took my last course ever. Caught up with most of my friends - including Aglae with a big belly (son due in June) and Isabel, the brand new fiancée (wedding in September). Spent the weekend shovelling gravel at the Mill and enjoyed the company of my family, minus Anna who is still working as a nurse in a hospital in Jalandhar, India.
Back to the busy life.

However, Easter is around the corner, and I'll be hopping on a bus to Medjugorje on Friday to spend a long weekend in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but shrubs, hills, silence and prayer. Given that about 40 of us are going, there will surely be time for fun as well, but I am really looking forward to some peace and quiet, and some quality time with the Man Upstairs.

I'm home

Back to the city of Käsekrainer, coffee houses, horse carriages, church bells, bakeries, grumpy waiters, and slow pace. The place where walking for five minutes actually gets you someplace. Where your cup of coffee comes with a complimentary glass of water and a silver spoon. Where you can live on thirty euros for almost a week. And where no one wears sweats.

Yet, I am missing things.

The buzz. Skyscrapers. Sushi. Food deliveries. Warm, fuzzy towels fresh from the dryer. Central Park. Diversity. Lights and colors. Ziploc bags. Paying by credit card. Grand Central Station. Dog walkers. Smiles. The sea. Yellow cabs. Conversations with strangers. Free refills. Fireplaces. Friends.

What I don't miss:

Coffee in paper cups. Having your check slammed down the second you swallow your last bite. Overcrowded subways. Trash. Paying for received calls. Dodging deadly umbrellas on crowded sidewalks when it rains. Smoke detectors. Doors that lock "the wrong way". The things they call bread. Taxes. Skim milk.

Funny how it takes a while until home feels like home.