You know, everyone has an opinion. I get that part. But, man, oh man did I walk into it today.
Nicholai and I took a four-mile walk this morning along the Danube canal, which winds through the city. Talk about beautiful. The architecture of the buildings on either side was stunning as were the gardens. As for the Danube, well it"s anything but blue.
After the walk and after spending two hours with a man named Wolfgang, his girlfriend Sofie and their dog Daiquiri at a cafe called Don's (named after Don Corleone from the Godfather movie ... identified by a large, painted picture of Corleone on the front of the building), we walked to the metro station to head home. But before getting on the metro, I stopped at one of Vienna's famous sausage stands to get a wurstel (scharf ... i.e., spicy). The vendor asked where I was from and if I lived in Wien. I said yes and somehow we got to talking about the Danube. I think maybe he'd asked me how I like Vienna. At any rate, I explained that we'd just come from a nice walk along the Danube. His reply: Ah, yes, the blue Danube. That's when I should have just walked away. But, alas, I didn't.
"We'll, it's not really blue," I said. "It's more like green."
The rest of the conversation wilted after that and he ended it with: "Yes, but we don't have oil in our water."
(pause)
What could I say. One-upped by the sausage man.
Alison
13 May 2010
10:58 p.m.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Fascinating
What fascinates me the most in Vienna is the thing that most fascinates the Viennese.
I am an American and so, like any true blood American, I like ice. I-C-E. In everything I drink, practically. My colleagues ask me: "Doesn't the ice burn your throat?" "How can you drink water with ice in the winter?" Or as each cube drops into the glass, they just nod their heads and say, in a rather sad and pathetic tone: "American."
Until I arrived at the International Press Institute there was never ice in the ice tray in the fridge. Hell, the ice tray wasnever even in the fridge! That's now all changed. In fact, I was so desperate for ice one day that I filled this ice tray only to find out when I was trying to get the ice out that it was actually an egg tray. Who knew?
What amazes me, however, about Austrians is their lack of courtesy, the need to eat bread every morning right from their hands (no napkin or anything else) and the love of scarfs -- even in 72-degree weather. And one more thing -- the inability to curse someone out. If an Austrian is mad, they might call you a bloudy coo (bloody cow). In my country, we say, "Fuck you."
But, thank God I am not in London where if you bump your elbow the common cure is tea.
"Darling, your ear hurts? Let's have a cup of tea."
"Oh, you poor bloke. Your husband left you? I'll put on a cup of tea."
Tea might be great and all, but I will take a glass of ice covered with good old Coca Cola or Sprite any day.
Alison
05 May 20010
11:07 p.m.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
The Best Thing Ever
Tonight I did the best thing I have done in Vienna since I have been here.
It started out as a fluke, really. I recently joined the American Women's Association and read in its monthly newsletter about a guy named Prentiss Dunn, who teaches a class at the English-language university, Webster. He gives opera classes in his flat as kind of a side gig. Well, because I know that the opera Carmen is in town and I want to take my husband to his first opera (and only my second), I decided to sign up for the "class" and to take my new friend Katalin with me. (Katalin works for the Hungarian Embassy in Vienna and is from Budapest.)
So, off we trod in the rain to Vienna's 19th district to learn about Carmen. Two trains and one Tram ride later, we arrive in the 19th district.
From the moment we walked in the door, the night was destined to be magical.
Prentiss served us a plate each of arugula (rucola, as they call it in Europe) dressed with a honey balsamic dressing accompanied by a sort of Caribbean-style stir-fried chicken breast with paprika (bell peppers in the U.S.) over Basmati rice. It was all washed down with cabernet sauvignon and a white wine (not sure which).
From there, we sat down on cushy sofas (some sat in rows of delicate chairs) and watched a video of the opera in its original language of French (with English subtitles), featuring a very young Placido Domingo and Julia Migenes-Johnson, whom I learned is one of the most famous opera singers to play "Carmen" ever. Prentiss explained the music and the motive behind the music. We listened for the trumpets and counted the beat levels. We learned about arias. Prentiss paused the video and played the piano so that we could hear the music over which Domingo was singing. He explained the plot and the reason behind the songs and the movement. He talked about the French composer, George Bizet, and his motivation and his untimely death (he died at age 36 of a heart attack in June 1835) and how Carmen was first received by the public and about its debut in Vienna in 1875, to rave reviews and enormous success.
It was glorious, and by far, the best 30 euros I have spent since arriving here in this land of music. Now, I am looking forward to seeing the live production in a week's time and I assure you that I will have a much greater appreciation then even I could have imagined.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OcnsMnRMN2U
Alison
04 May 2010
11:07 p.m.
It started out as a fluke, really. I recently joined the American Women's Association and read in its monthly newsletter about a guy named Prentiss Dunn, who teaches a class at the English-language university, Webster. He gives opera classes in his flat as kind of a side gig. Well, because I know that the opera Carmen is in town and I want to take my husband to his first opera (and only my second), I decided to sign up for the "class" and to take my new friend Katalin with me. (Katalin works for the Hungarian Embassy in Vienna and is from Budapest.)
So, off we trod in the rain to Vienna's 19th district to learn about Carmen. Two trains and one Tram ride later, we arrive in the 19th district.
From the moment we walked in the door, the night was destined to be magical.
Prentiss served us a plate each of arugula (rucola, as they call it in Europe) dressed with a honey balsamic dressing accompanied by a sort of Caribbean-style stir-fried chicken breast with paprika (bell peppers in the U.S.) over Basmati rice. It was all washed down with cabernet sauvignon and a white wine (not sure which).
From there, we sat down on cushy sofas (some sat in rows of delicate chairs) and watched a video of the opera in its original language of French (with English subtitles), featuring a very young Placido Domingo and Julia Migenes-Johnson, whom I learned is one of the most famous opera singers to play "Carmen" ever. Prentiss explained the music and the motive behind the music. We listened for the trumpets and counted the beat levels. We learned about arias. Prentiss paused the video and played the piano so that we could hear the music over which Domingo was singing. He explained the plot and the reason behind the songs and the movement. He talked about the French composer, George Bizet, and his motivation and his untimely death (he died at age 36 of a heart attack in June 1835) and how Carmen was first received by the public and about its debut in Vienna in 1875, to rave reviews and enormous success.
It was glorious, and by far, the best 30 euros I have spent since arriving here in this land of music. Now, I am looking forward to seeing the live production in a week's time and I assure you that I will have a much greater appreciation then even I could have imagined.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OcnsMnRMN2U
Alison
04 May 2010
11:07 p.m.
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