Back in the lands of Der, Die and Das

It hit me that I was in Europe by myself when I got off the plane in Zurich. Only a little lethargic from the Bonine motion sickness pills I’d taken with hopes that they would, in fact, “cause drowsiness,” my excitement began to kick in and overtake the other emotions I’d been experiencing on the flight. The money exchange, the baggage claim, the train from the airport to the main train station… I’d done all these things before, but this time I felt newly independent because I was doing them alone.

I’d flown to Switzerland a little less than a week before I had to be in Vienna in order to spend time with friends in Zug, a town not far from Zurich. I also thought it would be a good, comfortable place to start my year abroad. It was better than I could have expected. The Walti family was, as always, incredibly hospitable, and with each day, I became less fond of leaving and going to Austria on my own. Zug is located on a lake, the Zugersee, and it was central to much of my long weekend there. We biked around it, went swimming in it, rode in a boat across it to go to a bar, and spent my final day waterskiing. The latter of those activities felt a lot like I was living a scene from VH1’s always respectable program, “The Fabulous Life of...” and the only way it could have been improved upon would be if Richard Leach himself had been there to narrate our every move.

My stomach churned at the thought of leaving Switzerland and everyone there, but the time came on Monday morning. I had to get to Innsbruck, where I’d be staying the night, dropping some of my luggage off, and heading to Fulbright orientation in Vienna on Tuesday. My German teacher from college, Professor Hommel, had told me months ago that Linfield’s German department had had a Fulbright teaching assistant from Innsbruck six years ago. Her name is Kathrin, and she was yet another example of generosity. When I e-mailed her this summer, she offered to let me stay with her if I ever needed to before things got settled. That was indeed the case. She met me at the Innsbruck station (I told her that I’d be the one looking like an American), we walked to her apartment, dropped off my stuff and she took me to dinner. We shared stories about Linfield and about living abroad, and after eating, she took me on a brief walking tour of the town.

Innsbruck is a nice place. By no means do I know it well, but I think I’m going to like it there. I’d stopped through once before for a few hours when I was on a spring break trip during high school. All that I really remembered from those few hours was the infamous golden roof of a balcony (it’s cool, but still just a roof) and the Swarovski crystal shop. Neither of those places left much of an impression on me last time, and I was glad to see that there are other things in the city that impress me now. As soon as we walked out of the train station, the mountains struck me. They loom high above all sides of the town and it’s as if the town was built and then they decided to fence it in. I’ve been told that the Tyroleans (Innsbruck is in the province of Tyrol) understand as far as they can see, which, of course, doesn’t say much, so I’m interested to see how that plays out.

I went to bed fairly early at Kathrin’s. A few times in the night I heard a meowing from her crazy cat, Pollock, but I assumed it was coming from the living room. At one point, I rolled over in my sleep and landed on the black ball of fur. I didn’t know it then, but I had woken a monster. Pollock gave off an initially friendly impression but his licking and purring was followed by other forms of “play,” that include, but are not limited to, biting, jumping and clawing with a vengeance. The damn cat is insane. I tried to sleep, but couldn’t ignore the unknown objects from around the room that I could hear occasionally crashing to the floor. I tried to keep my eyes closed, thinking I would go back to sleep, but at one point I looked toward where the noise was coming from and could see the silhouette of Pollock in front of the window, and he was swinging from a dream catcher hanging from the ceiling. He would soon disappear into the dark again, and then I just had to lye and wait for him to come for me. I wrapped myself tightly in my blanket, hoping I would appear to be asleep or dead, but apparently was exposing my Achilles heal, or toes in this case, and he took to them. First licking, then biting, and when I tried to shoo him away with my feet, the tightly wrapped blanket around my legs loosened up, and he came running in. Straight down the cave of my blanket, between my legs, and directly to the place where you don’t want a crazy cat having his way with you. I grabbed the whole comforter, cat inside, and tossed it off the bed. I heard him scurry away. I think under the bed. I sat up, eyes wide open, fervidly looking around for this nemesis. I didn’t want to be too loud, nor did I want to kill the cat, but one, maybe both, might have been inevitable. In the moonlight shining down onto the bed, I saw him jump up from the floor. I turned my glare toward him, probably said something (because I’m sure I was having a full-out conversation with him at this point) and whatever I said, he didn’t appreciate it. Our staredown lasted no more than a few seconds, and then he pounced on my face. He landed, claws lodged on the sides of my head, and with reflexes of my own (“cat-like,” if you will), I threw him across the room. I stood up on the bed and saw him run out my door, which was cracked open, thus explaining his entrance. He may have won the battle, but I won the war the next morning when I threw him out the third-story window. Just kidding.

I left Kathrin’s apartment and walked through the rain to the train station, where I had arranged to meet Kevin, the one other Fulbrighter who’s going to be in Innsbruck this year. We traversed across Austria to Vienna. The five-hour trip was long enough to show me that I won’t be just “hopping” over to Vienna too often.

Being back in Wien is crazy. My sense of direction came back pretty quickly, and I’ve found time outside the Fulbright orientation to go back to my favorite places. Namely restaurants and bars where I sit and get nostalgic about everything we did there when I was here two years ago. I had a pitcher (not to myself) at 1516, a kebab from the stand next to McDonald’s, enjoyed the cheap, cheap drinks of Paddy O’Brien’s, walked through the cultural experience/drug haven that is the Karlsplatz subway station after dark, and it all feels just the same. It’s good to be back.

The Fulbright orientation was good. There are 21 of us; the majority are doing the combined grants that I have where we will be working part-time as teaching assistants in high school English classes, a few are doing just research- mostly as part of master’s theses- and there is one professor working in a guest position at the University of Vienna. The group is from all over the U.S., and it’s been really interesting to get to know them. Everyone’s research projects are well developed and fascinating. Just as intriguing to me has been getting the low-down on what it’s like going to boarding schools and ivy league colleges, learning about the broad realm of travel and life experiences the group has, and finding commonalities we share.

The orientation involved several tours and lectures. The American ambassador came to meet us the first day. Over the last year I’ve developed an interest in the Foreign Service, and several others in the group are inclined to do things like that too. I had looked up this lady on Wikipedia before coming to Austria, so I was familiar with her credentials, or in this case, lack thereof. She went to some big-name schools, but studied nothing related to international relations, rather business or something, and had made a name for herself as a political fundraiser for Bush. One of the other Fulbrighters, Stephanie, and I were talking to her and Stephanie asked, “So how did you get to where you are now?” The ambassador’s response was, “Well, I helped the governor – now president – out with some things.” She went on to explain that had she wanted to be an ambassador from the beginning and gone to school for it, she probably wouldn’t have gotten the job. So that’s reassuring.

Fulbright orientation is done now and I’m hanging out in Vienna until tomorrow morning. There’s more orientation to come- this time for my TA job. There are about 150 English TAs in Austria and there are two different orientations this week- one for everyone working in the West and one for everyone in the East. Four of us from the Fulbright group are going to the western one and it’s somewhere near Salzburg. It’s going to be a long day of travel tomorrow with lots of transferring from trains to buses. At the end of the week I’ll finally go back to Innsbruck to settle in.

A difference between the dorm I’m going to be living in here and my dorm experience in college is organization. Of all kinds. I paid a deposit and supposedly have a spot reserved, but I e-mailed to see where I need to be, whether they’ve placed me in a specific room yet, and when I can move in. They replied saying only that the dorms open at 10 a.m. on Monday, the 1st (the first day of classes), and I should be at the housing office then. I have no idea if they actually have a room/roommate chosen for me yet, or if it just a lottery based on who gets in line first, but I’m going to hope for the best, and will likely have housing-related stories that I can use to fill up blog space in later entries.

I’m in a café right now, utilizing their free wi-fi, and I finished my obligatory cup of Kaffee Melange a little while ago. I have the day free in Vienna and I’m going to go take advantage of it.

Bis spaeter,
Ryan