I spent Thanksgiving in Tamsweg this year and prepared a meal for a few colleagues and friends of mine. We planned for 9 people total, one person was ill and one person had to help a friend, so there was entirely too much food.
Here are some photos from the cooking in the days before and then finally the actual celebration (and continuing cooking) on Friday, when the dinner was hosted:
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
No cliques in Austrian high schools?
Any American Teaching Assistant will be able to name scores of differences between Austrian and American secondary schools, but one of the most pronounced lies in how students and teachers change subjects between periods.
While in the US, teachers stay in their own rooms (usually) and welcome a new class each period, in Austria, students stay while teachers swap around. The system divides pupils into different grades, and these grades into different groups (if there are too many for one class).
This, my students said, coupled with the fact that there are few school-organized extracurricular activities, means that they usually make friends with the folks in their class/grade. Instead of the band geeks, or the jocks, or the cheerleaders hanging together, the students in this particular class said they form bonds with their classmates and those who are usually the same age.
Could this be part of the reason there are no real cliques to speak of at the school?
Right of the bat, I must mention that this school is relatively small, that there are larger schools across Austria, and that this may be an exception. Tamsweg is small, as well--everyone knows most everyone here.
Based on my limited observations thus far, students staying in their own classroom means they seem to respect and to take care of the equipment, including the whiteboard, better than students would in the US (where such things would be guaranteed to be used by other students throughout the day).
They also seem to have a group mentality for their studies--almost a "we're all in this together" attitude when it comes to how they perform. Although there are some courses the students can choose to take (an extra English course, or Athletics, for example), they generally don't part ways from each other after each class. From my own experience in high school, I remember feeling camaraderie with my classmates, but I was also on my own--my schedule, my different friends, my choices.
While I don't think that this setup alone--the teachers swapping rather than the students--prevents cliques from forming, and I also believe it limits students in their options to choose courses, it seems to on the other hand allow them to work closely together with those in their same grade, to feel a sense of belonging and responsibility, and to form open, rather than exclusive, friendship groups.
While in the US, teachers stay in their own rooms (usually) and welcome a new class each period, in Austria, students stay while teachers swap around. The system divides pupils into different grades, and these grades into different groups (if there are too many for one class).
This, my students said, coupled with the fact that there are few school-organized extracurricular activities, means that they usually make friends with the folks in their class/grade. Instead of the band geeks, or the jocks, or the cheerleaders hanging together, the students in this particular class said they form bonds with their classmates and those who are usually the same age.
Could this be part of the reason there are no real cliques to speak of at the school?
Right of the bat, I must mention that this school is relatively small, that there are larger schools across Austria, and that this may be an exception. Tamsweg is small, as well--everyone knows most everyone here.
Based on my limited observations thus far, students staying in their own classroom means they seem to respect and to take care of the equipment, including the whiteboard, better than students would in the US (where such things would be guaranteed to be used by other students throughout the day).
They also seem to have a group mentality for their studies--almost a "we're all in this together" attitude when it comes to how they perform. Although there are some courses the students can choose to take (an extra English course, or Athletics, for example), they generally don't part ways from each other after each class. From my own experience in high school, I remember feeling camaraderie with my classmates, but I was also on my own--my schedule, my different friends, my choices.
While I don't think that this setup alone--the teachers swapping rather than the students--prevents cliques from forming, and I also believe it limits students in their options to choose courses, it seems to on the other hand allow them to work closely together with those in their same grade, to feel a sense of belonging and responsibility, and to form open, rather than exclusive, friendship groups.
Thanksgiving Madness: Day 1
Top Reasons Thanksgiving in Austria can be daunting, yet highly rewarding:
1. Limited food options in Austria (although most things can be had, cranberries are AWOL. Turkey will be absolutely fresh, though--I ordered him myself! I even got to pick a "him" or "her.")
2. Decidedly different appliance proportions (I'm not sure my 11 pound turkey will fit into the economical oven I have available.)
3. No one knows why it's important, no one celebrates it here (which can also be seen as a plus: not only in that I get to share interesting and important cultural moments, like stories about how I used to stick the black olives on my fingertips, but only a few could potentially boast they've had tastier Thanksgiving eats).
4. In addition, no one wants to hear about the absolutely horrific behavior of the settlers (at the root of the original Thanksgiving story), but I feel obliged to tell them this of this beloved holiday's sordid origin (would you like some tales of woe, misery, and racism with your mashed potatoes, Herr Schmidt?)
5. I have never cooked this meal alone, nor do I have a sous chef (which is why I spent the last half hour chopping veggies on top of my mini-fridge. This gives me ample opportunity for adventure and experimentation in the kitchen, to my hearty delight.)
The daily mental meltdown moment is brought to you by these vegetables: While chopping, I shot one over the edge, back to the dusty, dank, and unexplored crevice behind the fridge. Feeling this wasn't one of those moments where ignoring it would make the problem go away, I scooted the fridge out from the wall, only to have the machine suddenly shut off.
Assuming it was broken, I waited about 15 minutes for it to come back on, and when it did not, I of course evacuated my fragile perishables to the neighbor's fridge and texted the landlord. As you can probably guess, I was greeted moments afterward by the friendly whirr of a fully functional fridge.
Chopped and unchopped root veggies on top of decorative chopping mat from Ikea (which I draw your attention to only because I am so fond of it).
Take two.
And to prove I was there, the obligatory celery root shot.
1. Limited food options in Austria (although most things can be had, cranberries are AWOL. Turkey will be absolutely fresh, though--I ordered him myself! I even got to pick a "him" or "her.")
2. Decidedly different appliance proportions (I'm not sure my 11 pound turkey will fit into the economical oven I have available.)
3. No one knows why it's important, no one celebrates it here (which can also be seen as a plus: not only in that I get to share interesting and important cultural moments, like stories about how I used to stick the black olives on my fingertips, but only a few could potentially boast they've had tastier Thanksgiving eats).
4. In addition, no one wants to hear about the absolutely horrific behavior of the settlers (at the root of the original Thanksgiving story), but I feel obliged to tell them this of this beloved holiday's sordid origin (would you like some tales of woe, misery, and racism with your mashed potatoes, Herr Schmidt?)
5. I have never cooked this meal alone, nor do I have a sous chef (which is why I spent the last half hour chopping veggies on top of my mini-fridge. This gives me ample opportunity for adventure and experimentation in the kitchen, to my hearty delight.)
The daily mental meltdown moment is brought to you by these vegetables: While chopping, I shot one over the edge, back to the dusty, dank, and unexplored crevice behind the fridge. Feeling this wasn't one of those moments where ignoring it would make the problem go away, I scooted the fridge out from the wall, only to have the machine suddenly shut off.
Assuming it was broken, I waited about 15 minutes for it to come back on, and when it did not, I of course evacuated my fragile perishables to the neighbor's fridge and texted the landlord. As you can probably guess, I was greeted moments afterward by the friendly whirr of a fully functional fridge.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
A quick word on Eve Ensler's hijacking of "Occupy-"
Eve Ensler's Huffington Post call to action lives on in circulation on Facebook. While I support her call to fight our culture's light attitude toward rape, and I believe that she will accomplish much with her campaign, her topical-but-yet-somehow-stale hijacking of "Occupy-" to title her call to action left a bitter taste in my mouth.
The Occupy movement proper riddled by indecision, disorganization, and general unproductive chaos. Taking "Occupy-" into your name now only signals a devotion to unfocused anger and retaliation. This is perhaps the fuel a cause can burn in the early days, but unfocused anger accomplishes little for the cause in the long term.
In addition, don't cheapen your efforts by adopting trendy buzz words. These buzz words are exactly what allow someone to "support" the movement without upholding its values. I'm thinking the Livestrong trend of my high school years. Of course such campaigns create awareness, but I think Ensler is after something more than that, perhaps the deeper understanding that can come when someone begins to see behind cultural constructs and assumptions about the way society "should" be, which frees he/she to see how society could be if attitudes were different.
Taking on a cheap, trendy name will only open the door to posers and allow most people to skirt the real issue once again.
The Occupy movement proper riddled by indecision, disorganization, and general unproductive chaos. Taking "Occupy-" into your name now only signals a devotion to unfocused anger and retaliation. This is perhaps the fuel a cause can burn in the early days, but unfocused anger accomplishes little for the cause in the long term.
In addition, don't cheapen your efforts by adopting trendy buzz words. These buzz words are exactly what allow someone to "support" the movement without upholding its values. I'm thinking the Livestrong trend of my high school years. Of course such campaigns create awareness, but I think Ensler is after something more than that, perhaps the deeper understanding that can come when someone begins to see behind cultural constructs and assumptions about the way society "should" be, which frees he/she to see how society could be if attitudes were different.
Taking on a cheap, trendy name will only open the door to posers and allow most people to skirt the real issue once again.
An assortment of happenings
1. Yes, I love videogames, and yes, I did spend most of the weekend playing my newest fav, Skyrim. Unlike the other open-ended games that Bethesda makes, I don't find the scope or freedom of this one paralyzing: instead, the snowy peaks and frosted hills beckon, then entrap me.
2. Facilitated by a teacher from my school in St. Margarethen, I set up a Scottish Country Dancing course in the Volkshochschule in Tamsweg. Starting at the end of February, I will lead a weekly SCD practice with people from the community. I can't wait.
3. Shortly after arriving, I discovered that other assistants (in French and Italian) are here only every other year. So I've thought I was alone--until now! I met up today with another English language assistant in Tamsweg, who is from Poland. I look forward to getting to know her better. (Interestingly enough, she randomly met another Polish person in the Chinese restaurant we were in! I enjoyed sitting back in my chair, letting the sounds of an undecipherable foreign language wash over me.)
4. I also held my first private tutoring session today. My student is a 12-year-old girl whose biggest issue is not trusting herself. She has ability and can learn, so I look forward to this year.
2. Facilitated by a teacher from my school in St. Margarethen, I set up a Scottish Country Dancing course in the Volkshochschule in Tamsweg. Starting at the end of February, I will lead a weekly SCD practice with people from the community. I can't wait.
3. Shortly after arriving, I discovered that other assistants (in French and Italian) are here only every other year. So I've thought I was alone--until now! I met up today with another English language assistant in Tamsweg, who is from Poland. I look forward to getting to know her better. (Interestingly enough, she randomly met another Polish person in the Chinese restaurant we were in! I enjoyed sitting back in my chair, letting the sounds of an undecipherable foreign language wash over me.)
4. I also held my first private tutoring session today. My student is a 12-year-old girl whose biggest issue is not trusting herself. She has ability and can learn, so I look forward to this year.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Oath broken: I forgot what it's like to be a teen
Teaching teenagers every day reminds me that I've forgotten what it's like to be one.
This is of course despite all sacred oaths to myself that I would not, could not commit this atrocity and inflict upon future pupils what I (then) experienced at the hands of other forgetful instructors. (Also known as "fogies," or simply "out of touch oafs.")
Did I get lazy?
Or is it the same as many things--the passage of time blurs the transitions of age until the borders between "what is now" and "what was once" must be spoken of in black and white contrast. Times of personal struggle, contention, debate, and pondering meld into one obscure mass, so that the nuances of these times of turmoil and joy are lost in the grey soup of memory.
(On a side note, I think the best writers know how to pluck moments and feelings from this soup and put them to the page.)
Whenever I sit down to the computer to plan a lesson for the next day, I find 80% of my time is spent in pedagogical rumination on making the lesson relevant and interesting to young people, but at the same time somehow informative and important.
For example, do tweens really want to discuss the plight of Maria, the Mexican immigrant, or the wage gap between men and women around the globe? Probably not--but these topics are important: They teach us tough realities of our world while also opening our eyes, then minds, to solutions to discrimination.
Would that I could set myself into the minds and hearts of my students, or access the mindset of my teenage self once again! With a simple cocktail of relevant, interesting, inspiring, and enlightening info...well, that's a recipe I'll continue to search for.
In the end, the general "recipe" is engagement and activity: No matter how important a lesson, students won't gain much unless the teacher and/or material engages them. It seems students will forget a lot of the details of lessons anyway: I did some some reading up, like here, here, and here, and they support my own experience that lesson details often fade, while memorable moments of engagement, activity, and enlightenment remain.
This is of course despite all sacred oaths to myself that I would not, could not commit this atrocity and inflict upon future pupils what I (then) experienced at the hands of other forgetful instructors. (Also known as "fogies," or simply "out of touch oafs.")
Did I get lazy?
Or is it the same as many things--the passage of time blurs the transitions of age until the borders between "what is now" and "what was once" must be spoken of in black and white contrast. Times of personal struggle, contention, debate, and pondering meld into one obscure mass, so that the nuances of these times of turmoil and joy are lost in the grey soup of memory.
(On a side note, I think the best writers know how to pluck moments and feelings from this soup and put them to the page.)
Whenever I sit down to the computer to plan a lesson for the next day, I find 80% of my time is spent in pedagogical rumination on making the lesson relevant and interesting to young people, but at the same time somehow informative and important.
For example, do tweens really want to discuss the plight of Maria, the Mexican immigrant, or the wage gap between men and women around the globe? Probably not--but these topics are important: They teach us tough realities of our world while also opening our eyes, then minds, to solutions to discrimination.
Would that I could set myself into the minds and hearts of my students, or access the mindset of my teenage self once again! With a simple cocktail of relevant, interesting, inspiring, and enlightening info...well, that's a recipe I'll continue to search for.
In the end, the general "recipe" is engagement and activity: No matter how important a lesson, students won't gain much unless the teacher and/or material engages them. It seems students will forget a lot of the details of lessons anyway: I did some some reading up, like here, here, and here, and they support my own experience that lesson details often fade, while memorable moments of engagement, activity, and enlightenment remain.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Cooking adventures, Part 1
I don't have an oven in Tamsweg, so it's nice to be able to bake when I come back to Salzburg. I took advantage of that this weekend in being able to bake two different kinds of cookies (Vanillehörchen, but from a box, and chocolate chip oatmeal cookies, at the recommendation of Jill). Both turned out quite delicious (although without chocolate chips and a measuring cup, the latter cookies turned out a bit to oat-mealy and not very chocolatey).
I also tried my hand at a simple recipe for Indian frybread tacos from The Pioneer Woman Cooks.
(Just as a note of clarification, these are Native American. I researched a bit on the origin of this "staple" and found out a Native American tribe, I believe the Navaho, created them when they were forced out of their land. On the march, they didn't have any of their staple ingredients, so they simply macguyvered this frybread from the ingredients the government provided.)
I read about this chef in another blog and have since fallen in love with the ease and deliciousness of her recipes. To get some further use out of the oven, I also made the baked root veggies she calls "candy"-- Here's an image of the finished tacos with side dish of root veggies:
As my final cooking adventure before the long weekend ends, I'm going to go make some pancakes!
UPDATE: Pancakes have officially failed. Not sure if it was the wrong flour or what, but they are greasy, wet, and uncooked in the pan. Feeling really bad about it, but it happens.
I also tried my hand at a simple recipe for Indian frybread tacos from The Pioneer Woman Cooks.
(Just as a note of clarification, these are Native American. I researched a bit on the origin of this "staple" and found out a Native American tribe, I believe the Navaho, created them when they were forced out of their land. On the march, they didn't have any of their staple ingredients, so they simply macguyvered this frybread from the ingredients the government provided.)
I read about this chef in another blog and have since fallen in love with the ease and deliciousness of her recipes. To get some further use out of the oven, I also made the baked root veggies she calls "candy"-- Here's an image of the finished tacos with side dish of root veggies:
As my final cooking adventure before the long weekend ends, I'm going to go make some pancakes!
UPDATE: Pancakes have officially failed. Not sure if it was the wrong flour or what, but they are greasy, wet, and uncooked in the pan. Feeling really bad about it, but it happens.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Craft time continues!
When getting ready to make all my pumpkins, I had purchased some white wool to be able to make some white pumpkins. I got ambitious today and decided I'd try my hand at a wool animal and here is the result.
Note: My bunny is modeled on the bunny seen here.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Castle with a Complex (History)
George and I took a trip to Burg Mauterndorf on Friday. Here are a few pictures from my phone.
Burg Mauterndorf is the site of a former Roman fortress and functioned for a long time after that as a sortof fortified weigh station.
We found out after the fact (this was not mentioned on site anywhere we saw) that the Burg was passed through Hermann, Ritter von Epstein, to his widow and then his godson, Hermann Göring, who owned it through WWII.
Burg Mauterndorf is the site of a former Roman fortress and functioned for a long time after that as a sortof fortified weigh station.
We found out after the fact (this was not mentioned on site anywhere we saw) that the Burg was passed through Hermann, Ritter von Epstein, to his widow and then his godson, Hermann Göring, who owned it through WWII.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Crafting Philosophical
In my first years at college, knitting was a huge escape for me--a time where I could let my thoughts run wild and free and just sink into the rhythm of the crossing needles.
I brought my knitting needles with me to Austria this year to afford myself just such an escape--an escape to craft land, where time, space, and stress dissipate into a large cloud of meandering thoughts, feelings, ideas, and sometimes, really important personal revelations.
As far as that last bit goes, well, there haven't been any huge personal revelations or existential crises in the recent days, but there have been little moments of finding (often again) what is important out of life.
In crafting, your mind has time to lead you places you need to be--in my case, to the understanding that I am living my dream here this year in a German-speaking nation surrounded by supportive, giving, and interesting people; that this opportunity is an incredible one--to be able to hone and develop my skills as a public speaker, lecturer, and educator every day in a German-speaking nation. Wow.
Unfortunately, these simple truths tumble through the cracks in the floorboards of my mind when the going gets tough. I concentrate too hard, focus too keenly on important future matters, like what happens next year? This question is something I should be planning for, but I don't want to let it obscure the possibilities for experiencing joy, confronting challenges, and and enriching my community that I have now.
When crafting, I can let the constant din of worry in my mind clatter into the wide open air, dissipating into dull white noise. Freed from clutter, my mind can rove; I have not only time, but also mental space and energy to reflect on the large and small matters of life and renew my commitment to the ways I want to live it.
Crafting is therefore often for me not about the final product, but rather the experience, and sometimes even the principle of the journey. When I make something I like or that succeeds in its intention, I feel doubly rewarded, but its not necessary. My most ambitious and perhaps most ghastly knitting project--a red and camo (don't ask) skirt I attempted to make in college--afforded me some crucial hours of time for reflection about life, love, and friendship. When the skirt came out a misshapen mess, I knew instantly it didn't matter.
Here are a few things I've made recently--some needle-felted pumpkins (see below) and the "Q-tip scarf," which started out as a garland for a different craft and ended up as this.
I brought my knitting needles with me to Austria this year to afford myself just such an escape--an escape to craft land, where time, space, and stress dissipate into a large cloud of meandering thoughts, feelings, ideas, and sometimes, really important personal revelations.
As far as that last bit goes, well, there haven't been any huge personal revelations or existential crises in the recent days, but there have been little moments of finding (often again) what is important out of life.
In crafting, your mind has time to lead you places you need to be--in my case, to the understanding that I am living my dream here this year in a German-speaking nation surrounded by supportive, giving, and interesting people; that this opportunity is an incredible one--to be able to hone and develop my skills as a public speaker, lecturer, and educator every day in a German-speaking nation. Wow.
Unfortunately, these simple truths tumble through the cracks in the floorboards of my mind when the going gets tough. I concentrate too hard, focus too keenly on important future matters, like what happens next year? This question is something I should be planning for, but I don't want to let it obscure the possibilities for experiencing joy, confronting challenges, and and enriching my community that I have now.
When crafting, I can let the constant din of worry in my mind clatter into the wide open air, dissipating into dull white noise. Freed from clutter, my mind can rove; I have not only time, but also mental space and energy to reflect on the large and small matters of life and renew my commitment to the ways I want to live it.
Crafting is therefore often for me not about the final product, but rather the experience, and sometimes even the principle of the journey. When I make something I like or that succeeds in its intention, I feel doubly rewarded, but its not necessary. My most ambitious and perhaps most ghastly knitting project--a red and camo (don't ask) skirt I attempted to make in college--afforded me some crucial hours of time for reflection about life, love, and friendship. When the skirt came out a misshapen mess, I knew instantly it didn't matter.
Here are a few things I've made recently--some needle-felted pumpkins (see below) and the "Q-tip scarf," which started out as a garland for a different craft and ended up as this.
Monday, October 17, 2011
I really need to start working out more...
Tonight, about 20 minutes after arriving back in Tamsweg, dozens of older Austrian women totally (but not literally) kicked my ass in a fitness class I took part in.
It was my first time--I was invited by my friend and colleague Zsuzsi--and it was a hoot. But after my first collapse to the mat, definitely demoralizing. There were multiple moments where my joints/muscles screamed in protest at a certain move we had to hold for 15 seconds.One thrusting move (which requires you to stick your toes up and dig your heels into the ground) was a no-go.
I tried to keep thinking positive--after a few weeks of this, just imagine how much easier it will be! And it's true--I found out there's another class on Thursdays, which I'll also attend this week.
And the cosmos wanted to remind me how small Tamsweg is: I ran into the same kind woman I ran into on the mountain a week or so ago. I had to remind her who I was, but she seemed pretty excited I showed up to the fitness class (she had even proudly mentioned it in our brief chat). She insisted that I inform the instructor it was at her recommendation that I showed up...but it really wasn't. So, if it's anything like the US and someone may get perks for recommending someone, I'll make sure Zsuzsi benefits from that!
It was my first time--I was invited by my friend and colleague Zsuzsi--and it was a hoot. But after my first collapse to the mat, definitely demoralizing. There were multiple moments where my joints/muscles screamed in protest at a certain move we had to hold for 15 seconds.One thrusting move (which requires you to stick your toes up and dig your heels into the ground) was a no-go.
I tried to keep thinking positive--after a few weeks of this, just imagine how much easier it will be! And it's true--I found out there's another class on Thursdays, which I'll also attend this week.
And the cosmos wanted to remind me how small Tamsweg is: I ran into the same kind woman I ran into on the mountain a week or so ago. I had to remind her who I was, but she seemed pretty excited I showed up to the fitness class (she had even proudly mentioned it in our brief chat). She insisted that I inform the instructor it was at her recommendation that I showed up...but it really wasn't. So, if it's anything like the US and someone may get perks for recommending someone, I'll make sure Zsuzsi benefits from that!
Tiroler Gröstl
Upon reaching the top of the Kapuzinerberg, George and I stopped for a quick bite to eat and beer at the Franksikischlößl. George ordered the Tiroler Gröstl and I proceeded to share with him. It was incredibly delicious, but we knew we could probably make it at home without any issue. So behold, our attempt at Tiroler Gröstl:
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Time in Salzburg
This weekend means quality time in Salzburg doing at least a few of the things I had looked forward to doing since we first found out we had the chance to come back here. So, yesterday, George and I spent the early part of the day enjoying the city we love: We walked into town so we could promenade along the river, climbed Kapuzinerberg, enjoyed a beer at the Franziskischloessl, had a drink in O'Malley's (where we had a drink together the night of our first date--this time, we accidentally got to listen to a live jazz concert!), then ate at the Duruem Haus, which is the first place George and I ate a meal together alone (although it wasn't our first date). We thoroughly enjoyed our trip down (our romance's) memory lane.
This weekend is also about relaxing. Even though this has been the easiest period of adjusting to a different place I've ever had in Europe, it is still a bit of an emotional roller coaster. For example, finding a place in a new community requires time and effort, both of which I'm willing to give, but one of which I can't control.
In the meantime, I'm concentrating on looking for little moments of joy and beauty in my life in Tamsweg, including the following sunset from Wednesday night.
This weekend is also about relaxing. Even though this has been the easiest period of adjusting to a different place I've ever had in Europe, it is still a bit of an emotional roller coaster. For example, finding a place in a new community requires time and effort, both of which I'm willing to give, but one of which I can't control.
In the meantime, I'm concentrating on looking for little moments of joy and beauty in my life in Tamsweg, including the following sunset from Wednesday night.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
I dined on sheep, in a castle, in Austria.
'Nuff said.
UPDATE (Here are some pictures!)
Roland, one of the teachers I work with at the Multiaugustinum, heads toward Burg Finstergrün in Ramingstein (south of Tamsweg).
Burg Finstergrün is actually not that old--at least the castle isn't. There are a lot of touristy things that happen here, as well as a lot of summer retreats. Hannes, another teacher at the Multiaugustinum, and I pose for a must-have photo op. Now I can say I am princess of the castle?? :)
The Rittersaal, where we dined on lamb, assorted salads, and a nice custard for dessert. Teachers and staff offered words of thanks and told humorous anecdotes about the former director's time at the school.
UPDATE (Here are some pictures!)
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Making friends and not uploading photos...
Today, I finally reached the church--Wallfahrtskirche St. Leonhard bei Tamsweg. The church is incredibly beautiful, although I couldn't quite glimpse the wooden carving of St. Leonhard, which in the 15th-century continuously vanished from the church (even if stowed or locked away) only to appear later up in a tree on the hill. This eventually led to the church becoming a pilgrimage destination.
The church sets a weight upon your shoulders right upon entering the outer courtyard (or perhaps that was my lack of oxygen after the steep climb with unfit lungs). Glancing to the left before pushing open the large wooden door to enter the church itself, one can see a flaking, decomposing fresco. Upon further inspection, I saw tiny signatures, mostly dated around the mid 1800s or so. My history is failing me at the moment as to why, but I'll try to look into it.
After my hike, I introduced myself to a woman by inquiring about some berries she had picked--she eventually noticed I wasn't Austrian and asked me where I was from. We chatted a bit about her gymnastics group and the next pilgrimage day to the church (where she made a bit advertisement about the importance of donations to the church). Her name is Maria.
Class today took me to my third and final school, the Multiaugustinum in St. Margarethen. I met some very welcoming and kind colleagues, including Wolfgang, Zsuszi, and Reini, and can't wait to go back to the school again next week. I also hope to get a bike sometime either this weekend or next week--it is apparently not all too far to bike to St. Margarethen.
Reini also told me that I could ride with her as she drives back almost every day to Bischofshofen--I would simply need to get to St. Margarethen and then we can take off. This would end up cutting about an hour off of my travel time, not to mention the fact that I would be able to leave much earlier than the earliest bus. Travel will also change as winter sets in--apparently there are more buses in the winter to accommodate the influx of eager ski enthusiasts mobbing the area.
Pictures of Tamsweg and surrounding area will be posted this weekend when I'm back in Salzburg. (I have limited Internet and have already eaten up too much of my limit in just a few days.)
The church sets a weight upon your shoulders right upon entering the outer courtyard (or perhaps that was my lack of oxygen after the steep climb with unfit lungs). Glancing to the left before pushing open the large wooden door to enter the church itself, one can see a flaking, decomposing fresco. Upon further inspection, I saw tiny signatures, mostly dated around the mid 1800s or so. My history is failing me at the moment as to why, but I'll try to look into it.
After my hike, I introduced myself to a woman by inquiring about some berries she had picked--she eventually noticed I wasn't Austrian and asked me where I was from. We chatted a bit about her gymnastics group and the next pilgrimage day to the church (where she made a bit advertisement about the importance of donations to the church). Her name is Maria.
Class today took me to my third and final school, the Multiaugustinum in St. Margarethen. I met some very welcoming and kind colleagues, including Wolfgang, Zsuszi, and Reini, and can't wait to go back to the school again next week. I also hope to get a bike sometime either this weekend or next week--it is apparently not all too far to bike to St. Margarethen.
Reini also told me that I could ride with her as she drives back almost every day to Bischofshofen--I would simply need to get to St. Margarethen and then we can take off. This would end up cutting about an hour off of my travel time, not to mention the fact that I would be able to leave much earlier than the earliest bus. Travel will also change as winter sets in--apparently there are more buses in the winter to accommodate the influx of eager ski enthusiasts mobbing the area.
Pictures of Tamsweg and surrounding area will be posted this weekend when I'm back in Salzburg. (I have limited Internet and have already eaten up too much of my limit in just a few days.)
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Second day: Continuing to find my way in Tamsweg
Today I met more wonderful Austrian students and I must say, I had a really good time. Walking in to a class of kids with smiles on their faces is a great feeling. I'm still only introducing myself, so it is quite easy, but we've had some fun talking about differences between the US and Austria, as well as some fun slips of tongue ("My name is green" was my favorite so far--students had to say their name, fav food, and fav color).
Of course, in one of my lessons, I admitted to being a goody two-shoes and was promptly taken down a peg by a terrible spelling mistake--I mixed up "capitol" and "capital!" Honestly, very embarrassing, but I just laughed and explained that I'll just be a goody one shoe from now on.
Today I was also invited to take part in the Shafaufbratln with the rest of the Handelsakademie teachers--this is a tradition in October when the sheep are brought down out of the mountains and slaughtered. I explained to the students that this seemed rather sad--to make the sheep shuffle off the mortal coil directly after their joyous homecoming. At the risk of making a fool of myself, I asked the students today where they get new sheep, and they explained that the farmers keep the babies.
I have plans for tomorrow to try to hike the nearby hill up to the St. Leonhard's Church. I can see it out my window every day and it beckons to me. I also sent out a barrage of e-mails today to local clubs and groups so I can meet some folks in the community. Possibilities for activities this season (depending on the replies I get) include: Bushido (!), an Italian language course, Russian folk dancing, a local choir, or a traditional dance group.
On that note: One teacher came up to greet me at the school today--she saw me last night at the local guest house having dinner, but wasn't sure it was me. Now, she says, we can sit together if we see each other out and about. I also had a quick chat with my neighbor who is also brand new in Tamsweg--he also has a place in Salzburg and will be returning every weekend with the bus, just like me. Maybe I can talk him into buying a car and taking me with? Either way, I'm excited to be planting the seeds for potential future friendships.
Tomorrow is my final "first day" as I'll be journeying to my third school, the Multiaugustinum in St. Margarethen (a nearby village). I am excited and nervous to meet the students and teachers there.
Of course, in one of my lessons, I admitted to being a goody two-shoes and was promptly taken down a peg by a terrible spelling mistake--I mixed up "capitol" and "capital!" Honestly, very embarrassing, but I just laughed and explained that I'll just be a goody one shoe from now on.
Today I was also invited to take part in the Shafaufbratln with the rest of the Handelsakademie teachers--this is a tradition in October when the sheep are brought down out of the mountains and slaughtered. I explained to the students that this seemed rather sad--to make the sheep shuffle off the mortal coil directly after their joyous homecoming. At the risk of making a fool of myself, I asked the students today where they get new sheep, and they explained that the farmers keep the babies.
I have plans for tomorrow to try to hike the nearby hill up to the St. Leonhard's Church. I can see it out my window every day and it beckons to me. I also sent out a barrage of e-mails today to local clubs and groups so I can meet some folks in the community. Possibilities for activities this season (depending on the replies I get) include: Bushido (!), an Italian language course, Russian folk dancing, a local choir, or a traditional dance group.
On that note: One teacher came up to greet me at the school today--she saw me last night at the local guest house having dinner, but wasn't sure it was me. Now, she says, we can sit together if we see each other out and about. I also had a quick chat with my neighbor who is also brand new in Tamsweg--he also has a place in Salzburg and will be returning every weekend with the bus, just like me. Maybe I can talk him into buying a car and taking me with? Either way, I'm excited to be planting the seeds for potential future friendships.
Tomorrow is my final "first day" as I'll be journeying to my third school, the Multiaugustinum in St. Margarethen (a nearby village). I am excited and nervous to meet the students and teachers there.
Monday, October 3, 2011
First day in Tamsweg
Today was my first day, and unexpectedly, my first class.
Everything went very smoothly, and I was really astonished at how helpful and
kind every Austrian I have met has been. Even the man at the bank in Salzburg,
whom I called regarding my payment, was eager and happy to help me figure
everything out.
I also got to lead a discussion in my first class. It’s
funny as this is expressly forbidden in our guidelines, but of course, the
teacher was sick and didn’t want the students to miss out. As I’ve taught
before, I was A-OK with filling in for him. It was a very easy lesson, anyway,
in that I just had the kids learn about who I am, and I learned a bit about who
they are. Color combination favorite is purple + green (what a coincidence,
since this is what my renaissance faire costume had!) and they like to eat
pasta and pizza. Can’t wait to meet more students tomorrow!
After class, I went for a walk in the neighborhood. I found
some interesting workshops I could potentially participate in. It is also the
Bauernherbst (Farmer's Fall) time right now, so I’ll go try to sample some of the local
specialties. I’ll post a picture if I work up enough gumption to take one in
the restaurant.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Off to Tamsweg!
Today after 1 p.m. I leave for Tamsweg. I'll get settled into my room and also meet up with Alice to discuss what my week will look like. I'll also hopefully get a bit of time to hike the nearby hill--we'll see! Tomorrow I don't actually start with classes, but I will get to meet many of the teachers, which will be nice. Can't wait!
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Training in Hinterglemm-Saalbach: Learning the word "todger," Ceilidh dancing, and baby turtles
This past week saw me in Saalbach-Hinterglemm for a three-day training on being an English teaching assistant in Austria. The training itself contained the usual information on being a teacher, and offered some helpful advice for sorting out all the legal and official matters of being here in Austria.
Most important, though, was the chance to network with TAs from across Austria, including many folks from our local areas. AND, of course, these TAs weren't all American--the group included a large number of UK citizens, folks from Northern Ireland, Wales, Scotland, and England.
There were a few moments of light conflict--being forced to bring up stereotypes about the other side, but it was also an amazing time to compare language differences and learn new words like "minge," "clunge," and "todger." (This was on the first night in a bar--of course we wanted to learn all the dirty words that we'd never heard of...my favorite is the first one.)
The week was over too quickly, though--time flies when you're having a ball. Some highlights include: dancing the Gay Gordons with everyone on "Bunter Abend," the final variety show evening where everyone lets their talents shine; playing cards near the top of a mountain instead of hiking to the top; aforementioned exchange of language in the only TINY bar open that night in Hinterglemm; being forced to drink outside because 10-14-year olds were filling the bar; witnessing the beauty and serenity that is the Austrian landscape.
Now, we all prepare for our first week of TA-ing in Austria. I'll leave for Tamsweg tomorrow in the afternoon (I am brimming with excitement to meet my students!) and return this weekend for Whiskey Weekend in Salzburg.
And a final word about baby turtles: One person I met this week, Rafiq, told the tale (probably for the fifteenth time) of taking a hike up a mountain on Catalina Island off California, getting lost because of fog, walking and walking for hours, but eventually returning safely home. At the end of the story, he held up the pendant around his neck, a small turtle, and explained how baby turtles have to travel a huge distance after they are born, but they always know the way to get there, even if interrupted or misplaced. Some folks studying abroad or away from home feel lost, disconnected, or out to drift at some point. I love the story of the baby turtle in this sense--we know that the goal may sometimes be uncertain, the journey long and potentially painful, but that we will always end up where we need to, that we'll always get home at some point. This frees one to remember: enjoy the journey, even the uncomfortable parts, and remember what's important to you.
Most important, though, was the chance to network with TAs from across Austria, including many folks from our local areas. AND, of course, these TAs weren't all American--the group included a large number of UK citizens, folks from Northern Ireland, Wales, Scotland, and England.
There were a few moments of light conflict--being forced to bring up stereotypes about the other side, but it was also an amazing time to compare language differences and learn new words like "minge," "clunge," and "todger." (This was on the first night in a bar--of course we wanted to learn all the dirty words that we'd never heard of...my favorite is the first one.)
The week was over too quickly, though--time flies when you're having a ball. Some highlights include: dancing the Gay Gordons with everyone on "Bunter Abend," the final variety show evening where everyone lets their talents shine; playing cards near the top of a mountain instead of hiking to the top; aforementioned exchange of language in the only TINY bar open that night in Hinterglemm; being forced to drink outside because 10-14-year olds were filling the bar; witnessing the beauty and serenity that is the Austrian landscape.
Now, we all prepare for our first week of TA-ing in Austria. I'll leave for Tamsweg tomorrow in the afternoon (I am brimming with excitement to meet my students!) and return this weekend for Whiskey Weekend in Salzburg.
And a final word about baby turtles: One person I met this week, Rafiq, told the tale (probably for the fifteenth time) of taking a hike up a mountain on Catalina Island off California, getting lost because of fog, walking and walking for hours, but eventually returning safely home. At the end of the story, he held up the pendant around his neck, a small turtle, and explained how baby turtles have to travel a huge distance after they are born, but they always know the way to get there, even if interrupted or misplaced. Some folks studying abroad or away from home feel lost, disconnected, or out to drift at some point. I love the story of the baby turtle in this sense--we know that the goal may sometimes be uncertain, the journey long and potentially painful, but that we will always end up where we need to, that we'll always get home at some point. This frees one to remember: enjoy the journey, even the uncomfortable parts, and remember what's important to you.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
A tour of the city
Last night, I returned from a day-long workshop in Denkendorf (near Stuttgart) for Scottish Country Dancing. Daphne was the instructor, and there were about 40 people in attendance. I had never done such a workshop, but memories of my previous time as a Scottish Highland Dancer came whirling back. I had a very good time. We focused on difficult dances that we would never perfect, but that would instead be a challenge to us. Challenging they were.
I was struck by how many folks were dressed in some sort of Scottish attire, and also how many couples were in attendance. Everyone was very kind and patient if someone didn't catch on right away, so it made for a good atmosphere.
When I returned to Salzburg, I met my new roommate for the year, Chloe. She comes from England, from a city near Birmingham, and is a very nice and interesting person. I breathed a sigh of relief she wasn't someone high-maintenance or nutty. She is also precisely the age I was when I first studied abroad, so I feel a kinship with her in that regard--I know she'll go through moments of loneliness this year, through moments of joy, anxiety, excitement. For me it was a year of being brave, leaving my comfort zone, and falling in love with a city and its people. I wish her the same.
Today, George and I took Chloe on a simplified tour of the city, where we showed her the Altstadt, Mirabelplatz, Mönchsberg, Stieglkeller, Augustinerbräu and many small sights in between. It was a great day, but my leg muscles may never forgive me for the double whammy.
I was struck by how many folks were dressed in some sort of Scottish attire, and also how many couples were in attendance. Everyone was very kind and patient if someone didn't catch on right away, so it made for a good atmosphere.
When I returned to Salzburg, I met my new roommate for the year, Chloe. She comes from England, from a city near Birmingham, and is a very nice and interesting person. I breathed a sigh of relief she wasn't someone high-maintenance or nutty. She is also precisely the age I was when I first studied abroad, so I feel a kinship with her in that regard--I know she'll go through moments of loneliness this year, through moments of joy, anxiety, excitement. For me it was a year of being brave, leaving my comfort zone, and falling in love with a city and its people. I wish her the same.
Today, George and I took Chloe on a simplified tour of the city, where we showed her the Altstadt, Mirabelplatz, Mönchsberg, Stieglkeller, Augustinerbräu and many small sights in between. It was a great day, but my leg muscles may never forgive me for the double whammy.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Article about origin of the surname "Dietemann"
About a month ago, I received an article from John Dietemann, a somewhat distant relation, through my aunt, Donna Dietemann, about the rather unclear origins of this surname. I took to translating it and have finished the translation today. The original article was written by Herbert Fritsche as part of a lecture for the Historical Societies in Eschwege, Germany.
I'll do my best to get the article loaded up or linked on the blog soon.For anyone with this last name--or anyone who's curious about the Dietemann Figurine in the artisan clock in Eschwege, it could be an interesting read.
I'll do my best to get the article loaded up or linked on the blog soon.For anyone with this last name--or anyone who's curious about the Dietemann Figurine in the artisan clock in Eschwege, it could be an interesting read.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Starting the blog
A lot has changed since I was in Austria last (2009-2010). The popular hair color is bleach blonde and you can now purchase Brownie mix in the corner grocery store.
Settling back in to life in Salzburg has been exceedingly stressful, mostly due to the spiral of worry I lock myself into. I'm reminded, however, just by looking out the window or taking a quick walk what an immense privilege it is to be here, and how much fun this year will be.
I have a small place to stay with George in Salzburg and a room of my own in Tamsweg. The latter room looks out onto a church-topped hill and a lonely train track. I'll move in in early October.
Settling back in to life in Salzburg has been exceedingly stressful, mostly due to the spiral of worry I lock myself into. I'm reminded, however, just by looking out the window or taking a quick walk what an immense privilege it is to be here, and how much fun this year will be.
I have a small place to stay with George in Salzburg and a room of my own in Tamsweg. The latter room looks out onto a church-topped hill and a lonely train track. I'll move in in early October.
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