The Hills Really Are Alive with the Sound of Music, Just Not in Budapest

So I wouldn’t call Hungary a third world country (my previous experiences make this label seem far too severe), but it is certainly a fallen country. Allow me to illustrate. As we arrived in "Buda," we were able to look out over the Danube River to the "Pest" side that comprises Budapest. From afar I was struck by the city’s beauty; shining castles, ancient buildings, the grandeur of the Parliament building, a sense of real history. But upon up close examination, things took on a far darker hue.

In our three day weekend adventure, Danny and I were witness to both the light and dark side of the capital city. We ate traditional Hungarian food as we were serenaded by a gypsy band. We went to see the Hungarian opera Xerxes in the exquisite Magyar Állami opera house (see photo below). We climbed to the top of the citadel overlooking the entire city and ate lunch. We continued our tradition of guided bus tours and I took hundreds of photos of the rich architecture, statues, and sights that saturated the city.

However, for the first time since arriving in Europe, we glimpsed the effects of poverty. Prostitutes were out on the streets openly soliciting men as they passed. Garbage, graffiti, revealing smells, and grime permeated all parts of the city. The Hungarian police were extremely vigorous, arresting or questioning people at least half a dozen times (that I saw) in our short stay. A drugged and homeless man came up and grabbed the hand of one of our friends, kissed it repeatedly, and then immediately tried to box him. All of this was mixed in with the remnants of palaces and buildings which echoed the former power and influence of the country.

The cause of this decline was detailed on our bus tour throughout Budapest. We learned about a king who was tied to his royal throne with his crown upon his head and burned to death, grand palaces that were blown up or destroyed during the communist era, another king who was placed in a barrel filled with nails and pushed down a steep hill into the river, witches who were hunted and killed until the 18th century, and the Jewish holocaust during the Nazi era, just to name a few of the bloody horrors that were included in this city’s history. Just your average happy little city tour, right? Clearly, Budapest’s tragic past accounted for the shabby, faded, and deteriorated state of its buildings, government, and even the depressed state of many of its people.

The final event that solidified my wary sentiments towards the city happened when a group of law students returned from a river cruise and explained what they had witnessed. While enjoying the views of the palaces lit up at night, someone noticed a man at the top of an extension bridge over the river. He had managed to climb to the very top and was riding an eagle sculpture which crowned the structure. Police, emergency crews, and a crane were below trying to get him down. As they watched, the man lit himself on fire, jumped off the eagle, and landed suddenly on the bridge’s pavement, not making it into the water. To say the least, this group of friends was stunned.

As we loaded the return bus, Danny and I were in agreement that, although we were glad to have experienced it the one time, we would not be visiting Budapest anytime again and that touring Austria would be a welcome departure.

And tour Austria we did.

This past week the class traveled to both Salzburg and Vienna for lectures on arbitration law by Austrian professors and judges. I’m not sure what Danny learned in his classes, but while we gallivanted around after class, I learned that Austria is a truly stunning and diverse country.

In Salzburg (the filming location for The Sound of Music) we used our free afternoon to visit ice caves in the Alps. It was incredible! It’s hard to speak to such beauty and do it justice, but I can try. Imagine yourself five thousand feet above a green valley with a winding river, Austrian village, and castle atop a hill. As you look out you are eyelevel with the distant clouds and snowcapped peaks. The wind is fresh and smells like pine as you breathe deeply. Crows play in the breeze, carrying themselves high and low in large, single swoops. Your god’s-eye-view above the world and the miniature size of the homes below makes you feel big and small at the same time. You are awed by the valley’s magnificence.

In order to get this view on top of the mountain we rode a bus, took a cable car up a sheer cliff face, and hiked for an hour. The final stretch of hiking was electrifying. Being so high and feeling the air pressure and temperature change, while the clouds misted on us was invigorating. Once we arrived at the mouth of the cave we put on our warm clothing gear (well I did, Danny and a few of our friends had to endure with flip-flops and no sweaters), blew out a warm steam of breath, and headed in.

The ice cave was like a winter paradise, I had no trouble imagining Santa’s elves sledding down the ice sculptures or yetis lurking in the shadows. We followed our guide with candle lanterns on a wooden path and climbed up, down, and through remarkable ice formations. The sheer size of the cave and the variety of ice formations; some delicate (as with the slender rows of icicles), and some powerful (as with wall of ice that devoured the wood planks to the point that they needed to be reconstructed) was humbling.

After we left the frozen wonderland we started our trek down the mountain in the warmer open air. The sky mercilessly held of raining until we returned to our bus, where we relaxed feeling sweaty and contented, and it began to downpour. The ride back down the mountain in the rain was again beautiful, but in a new blustery way. Being in nature rejuvenated us. With the remainder of our day we enjoyed the company of our new friends, eating food, and belly-laughing over stories (much like today, which we spent in Vienna at a street side coffee shop). Salzburg’s ice caves truly were the highlight for both of us so far… but this weekend we depart for Venice, Italy. A city which we have been told is the most romantic in the world.

Until our return, ciao!

Hallo Austria!

It is fine-time that I should revive this blog. And what better time to pay homage to the blog’s name than on a fantastic trip? At this point, I really do feel like I have the whole world in my hands.

One week has passed since we departed Phoenix for Linz. This is hard to believe because with all the business of traveling, getting settled, adjusting to the time change and jet lag, and being entirely unaccustomed to the continuous cloudy gloom hiding the sun, I have completely lost my sense of time. It feels like we just arrived. Or I have just woken up from a very deep sleep.

As I already mentioned, the weather has been less than idyllic, drizzling most days, with the blue sky gracing us with her presence only a few times through open patches in the cloud cover. However, this has given me plenty of time to rest indoors, and to write down an account of our adventures so far.

So here they are.

I should probably begin with our reasons for traveling across the globe with Austria as our destination. In early November, the idea of Danny studying law in a program abroad was placed on the table. He found a program through Georgia State University’s law program and we attended a seminar together. I, having the heart of a gypsy by nature, was instantly sold on the idea of a summer in Europe together and began making plans. My husband, Danny, having a more conservative and pragmatically-minded constitution, needed to think over the costs, benefits, his responsibilities and duties some more (thus he is the one in law school and not myself).

We debated back and forth about the pros and cons of being away for the summer, and after several tense conversations, high emotions on both sides, and invocation of the “happy wife, happy life” clause, we packed our bags.

We left for Austria on a Friday and after 26 hours of continuous travel by plane, train, or car, arrived late Saturday evening to Linz. We grabbed a taxi, and with our vast knowledge of over five German words or phrases, directed our cabbie to the hotel. The cabbie in turn took it upon himself to mock our “foreign” accents by repeating everything we said in English with an over-exaggerated nasally babble. Apparently, English sounds as funny and unattractive to Austrians as German sounds to us.

The hotel we are staying in is also a dormitory used by the nearby University, which means our room is furnished like a dorm for two college students. We have pushed together our two single beds and rearranged the desks, and all-in-all it is cozy. With a good sized closet, internet access, and a private bathroom I have no complaints. Our view from the 10th floor (see photo) looks out over Linz, and we get front row seats to the sunset (albeit cloudy) each day at about 9:00 pm.

Our first few days have revolved around exploring the town, meeting the students (about 40 from all over the U.S.), professors and getting settled. Here are a few highlights:

The airport in Munich, Germany was quite possibly the cleanest, most organized, and quietest airport in the world. The contrast with the American airports we were just in was astounding. The people were completely silent as they waited for their bags, and there was an air of efficiency that isn’t explainable. Even the line waiting for baggage was different in its calmness. No one was crowded at the front to get their bags first, in fact there was a good 15 feet before the first person was lined up waiting patiently. Danny immediately decided that this was evidence of my family being from Germany. He said that only a place like this could have produced the quiet, task-oriented, and efficient Streff family. Then we both burst into laughter, as we tried to imagine what the airport in Rome, where his people come from, would look like.

An hour after arriving we dragged our exhausted bodies to the welcome dinner at Yosef’s, where we ate a traditional Austrian food (think lots of meat and potatoes), Danny drank beer, and I learned quickly (after a long and surprising swig) that water comes in “still” and “gas” in Austria. We were introduced to the somehow not-seemingly-exhausted group of students (These people are professional revelers. So far, they have outdone the intensity of several fraternities and keep going strong). For dinner, we had blood sausage (delicious), along with various colored sausages and meats, and lots of the only vegetable provided: boiled cabbage. We excused ourselves early and stumbled to the street where we got on the city street-car. In our dazed state, we soon realized we had no idea what our hotel looked like, or how to find it at night. As we exited the tram, we located our hotel based off of one fact: Our room is on the 10th floor, so our hotel must be tall. Our logic proved true and we slumped into our beds defeated for 15 hours.

The next day we met a few students on their way to the city and did a sort of self-guided tour of the Hautplatz or city-center. We walked through the central square with its beautifully colored traditional buildings, churches, and fountains. We explored a neighborhood, visited a church built in 8th century, and took photos at the Schloss museum, formerly a castle. When I say took pictures, I mean took pictures. My love for photography has become a slight obsession, and Danny now threatens to hide my camera somewhere to make me walk faster. I am completely content to languish in the angles and colors, which I maintain make me see everything from a different, more observant, perspective.

While Danny is in class, I have been flexing the muscles of my wanderlust by exploring the city and surrounding area. I have found wonderful graffiti, green hidden pathways, garden gnomes, climbing walls that would make Johann green with envy, and that Austrians are completely at ease with staring for long periods of time, but not uber friendly. Again, Danny teasingly attributes this as proof of this being “my people.”

In Passau, Germany we attended a lecture and then bummed through the city hopping into churches, museums, and cafes to avoid the rain (Leave it to Phoenicians to not bring an umbrella). We had soup in a restaurant which was formerly a jail and execution room. We had hot chocolate in a café that was a fantastic tribute to Alice in Wonderland. And we trounced through floor upon floor of a glass museum. Danny ate weinerschnitzel with cranberry sauce and ordered beer (Nick, you will be happy to know that weinerschnitzel is scrumptious and is actually an inoffensive nick-name). Apparently, in Germany when you order a beer you don’t specify the type, because each restaurant only has one, the house beer. It came in a stein, and there was so much foam that Danny had a beer mustache. It was adorable. I was completely caught off guard, when I asked (in English) if I could throw away a plastic bottle in a grocery store, to have the teller take it, put it in a specially marked bin, print a receipt, and then give me 15 cents for recycling. I could get rich off this scheme!

Somehow, Danny is fitting all of his reading and studying into this hectic schedule, and dealing with the stress of being away from family, home, and all the political action of the upcoming primary season. Have I mentioned that I love this man? To be on a once-in-a-lifetime-trip like this with Danny, before we have kids, and with the full backing and support of our families is phenomenal. We are both truly blessed to have such an amazing opportunity and the love and encouragement of our families and friends. Danke familie! (Thank you family!) I need to start preparing for our weekend with the law program in Budapest, Hungary. So until next time: auf Wierdersehen!

Harmony

I am happy. Harmoniously, wholly, happy. I am so grateful for the blessings that have been bestowed upon me. I am healthy in mind, body, spirit. I am in love with my soul mate who elevates my consciousness and redefines caring and cherishment each day we are together. Together we have built a home that revitalizes and comforts my spirit. We have a family who supports, loves, and raises us up. I have a group of friends who tickle my soul once a week at our girls’ night gatherings. To top this off, I have the extraordinary fortune of calling the opening of children eyes to their own potential and beauty my vocation.
These are just the blessings that my finite mind is able to conjure and catalog at this moment. The multitudes of unseen events that have conspired throughout the ages to create my reality are beyond my ability to perceive or appreciate. I am humbled by life’s beauty. I’m not sure what I have done to deserve any of these blessings, but I am as grateful as humanely possible. I am happy and hopeful. I am ready to embrace whatever adventures and lessons await me tomorrow with open arms.

A Breakthrough

I feel like there has been a shift - a breakthrough – in my professional life. In the past few weeks I feel like I have really hit my stride in the classroom and that my students and I are working at a higher level. All week I have had so much energy in the classroom, and my students have been bouncing a same positive energy back at me. For the first time in a year and a half at the end of the day I feel like I have energy to do other things that I enjoy. The work day feels lighter and the halls of my school brighter. I finally feel like I can speak about the practice of teaching with a little bit of authority.
Most things in life come naturally to me, or if they don’t I am able to learn them quickly, and I swiftly feel sure of myself. Teaching was not one of those things. The first seven months of teaching, I felt unsure, unconfident, uncomfortable, and nervous about my abilities as a leader in the classroom. The awesome responsibility of holding thirty children’s lives in my hands for entire year, and my clear naivety was so pervasive and overpowering, that I didn’t fully feel human. I didn’t feel like me. It’s not often in my life that I have tried at something and failed over and over again. But that is what I did my first year as a teacher. I failed over and over again.
I am happy to report that after teaching for 1 year and seven months, I have finally found me again. I have found the confident, positive, and fun-loving version of me that was always there, but hiding under several layers of stress, frustration, and exhaustion. Let me tell you something – it feels good to be back!
This is not to say that I have suddenly attained teacher nirvana, where everything I touch turns to teaching genius – I still feel the pain of failure – but now I have acquired the skills necessary to not just survive, but to thrive in my profession. It feels so good to finally be successful at something again.
And this shift is starting to be recognized by people besides just myself. Most notably, by my most important critics: my students. When I found out that I would be looping with my students to the sixth grade, I was having lunch with a group of five girls in my classroom as a reward for winning the weekly raffle. I told them that I had just found out some exciting news, to which they all asked, “What?!” I told them that I would be their teacher for sixth grade and all five girls screeched like Chris Brown had just walked through the door. They started jumping up and down while they yelled in excitement. I told them to keep it a secret until after lunch when I would tell the rest of the class. When I made the announcement to the class they immediately broke into cheers and exclamations. One student enthusiastically asked, “Can you be our seventh grade teacher too?” The students’ reaction was a proud moment in my days as a teacher. There wasn’t a student in the class that wasn’t thrilled to hear they would have me again next year.
If that wasn’t enough validation, during parent-teacher conferences I had two separate parents tell me that they had planned on moving their child to another school for sixth grade, so that they could receive honors classes, but that once they found out that I would be their child’s teacher again, they decided to keep their child enrolled at our Elementary School. Another parent, whose daughter I had last year for fifth grade, was ecstatic that her son would have the opportunity to be in my classroom next year (as he is currently in another class).
What’s more, the school’s staff upon hearing that I am moving up a grade is upset! Our amazing secretary, the woman who runs the entire school and keeps everything organized, was upset, because she was planning on puttering her daughter in my fifth grade classroom. She actually pleaded with me, “Please don’t move up, I really want my daughter in your class. Where is she going to go now?” Another staff member at our school, a para-professional, who has a fourth grade daughter, was crushed to find out I won’t be teaching fifth grade next year. He said, “I wanted to make sure that she was in your class, now what do I do?” The final feather in my cap came from a fourth grade teacher whose opinion I greatly admire. He was the teacher who had my students the year before, and really worked them into a hard working class. He had told all of the parents at his conferences to request me as their child’s teacher for next year! That is such an incredible compliment to be coming from him. He actually came to my classroom and tried to persuade me to stay in the fifth grade. He asked, “What am I supposed to tell all those parents now?”
All of the praise really makes me understand that my hard work is valued by the students, parents, teachers, and staff, and I feel humbled. I guess all of those long hours of tireless work do get recognized eventually. It feels nice, but also makes me feel like I have a lot to live up to. I will always strive to become a more effective, more engaging, and more inspiring teacher.
I feel very confident in my decision to move up with my students. They are such an incredible group. We have grown so much as a class this year already – I cannot even imagine how much further we will be able to get with a whole other year. They will truly be ready for middle school, and hopefully, will continue to have teachers that drive them to stay focused on their goals. Two years of consistent pushing from me is going to be setting them up for the best fighting chance they will have. It will be up to them after that point.
I had one of my lowest performing, if not the most struggling student in my class write me a note today, asking if there are teachers who do their job for just money, and if I am one of those teachers. The directions on the note said circle one “yes” or “no” and return it before the end of the day.
I wrote down that yes there are some teachers who work for just money, and that yes I worked for money too, but I also teach because I believe that helping kids is one of the most important things in the world. When I returned the note to this student, he opened it up, smiled, and put the note in his desk. He has recently been showing huge improvements in class, and is actively curious in a way that wasn’t there in the beginning of the year. I am so looking forward to pushing him, and all of my studnets even further next year.