Public Transport Gods (PTG)

I generally don't consider myself a heathen (Kat's the heathen), but I do firmly believe in the PTG. These are the beings that control public transport. When it gets where and if it's on time and if there are seats available. Some people might argue that people do that. But they are wrong. It's like in the Grapes of Wrath when Stenbeck describes the bank:
"The bank is something else than men. It happens that every man in a bank hates what the bank does, and yet the bank does it. The bank is something more than men. It's the monster. Men made it, but they can't control it."

Well, lately the PTG have been on my side. It probably has to do with some recent human sacrifices on my part. Or maybe they just like me. But seriously, every time I go near public transport (except the S-bahn, but that doesn't count. It only comes every 20 minutes) the one I want shows up. It was true in Holland too. I haven't had to wait more than a minute for the Uban in about 2 weeks. And every time I get on some form of public transport, there is a seat for me. It practically has my name on it. Having the PTG on your side will make any bad day good.

Holland

Let's see, I went to Holland this weekend with Lloyd and Ale. Lloyd is a young single adult in our ward. He is British and went on his mission to NL. And Ale is just awesome.

It was 19 hour bus ride there Thursday night/Friday morning. 19 hours is a freaking long time.

We got to Amsterdam around 2. We wandered, marveled, and went to the Anne Frank house. It was neat to go there. I have an EPIC page in my journal from that house. I'm surprisingly crafty.

That night we stayed at a friend of Lloyd's house. She was a CRAZY cat lady. And quote, "I share my house with 2 cats". Not I have 2 cats, I share my house with. She talked to them like they were people and took them to bed with her (sound like a certain mother of mine and a dog named Whimzy) There was cat hair everywhere. It was gross.

Saturday morning we went to Delft. We looked a pottery, climbed 375 steps to the tower (I nearly DIED. They were steps in a circle, and I was so dizzy), and went in the church where the dead members House of Orange are buried.

After that we went to the Hague. No, I did not get to see Charles Taylor. Which actually disappointed me a little bit. Yes, there is a part of me that wants to go in the prison and see international criminals guilty of crimes against humanity.

Then we went to the beach! I love the beach. It was perfect and beautiful and I was wearing my yellow sundress. I love it when I can wear clothes at the beach.

After that we went into Rotterdam where we had a new appartment all to ourselves because Lloyd had a friend who was out of town. We were not going to stay with crazy cat lady again.

Sunday afternoon we went to the wardhouse after church ended so Lloyd could see some of his old mission friends. We were trying to find a ride to Kinderdyke. This woman offered to take us to her windmill. She and her husband took us home with her, fed us, and took us INTO their windmill built in 1776. We climbed one of the sails. All the way to the top. Pictures will be on my other blog soon(ish). Going into that windmill was one of the coolest things I've ever done.

One of the people we were with had a bike, so I got to ride on that. In my skirt. Then Lloyd petaled while I rode on the back, the style that women used to ride horses. Both feet on the same side. I looked so graceful (well, as graceful as I get) and so dutch. So epic.

After those adventures we went into Rotterdam for the game. We were standing in the square in front of city hall 2 hours before the game started. So I was standing a total of 5 hours. My feet and back hurt a lot. The game was fun to watch until about the 80th minute. Then I just wanted it to end. When Spain scored, some guy NEXT TO US threw his beer. Then another guy got angry and he and his gang went after him. Pushing quite aggressively past me. They were close to a fight, right next to me. Security showed up and we were safe. It was scary though.

Monday morning we went back into Amsterdam. We went to the Blumen Market and ate pancakes with apples.

We got on our bus. Another 19 hour bus ride. Right when we crossed the NL-German border, the police pulled over our bus. They made everyone show passports and made a few people get off and went through their bags. It was a little scary. After that I took an ambien. I slept but I woke up feeling hung over.

Well, that is a nice summary of my last 96 hours.

Kebap

When I first got here I was a little confused. Actually, if you read back to the earliest blog entries, I was a lot confused (I will never live down getting locked in the D streetcar). One of the many confusing things were the food stands. They all had a horizontal metal spit. On that metal spit was a large amount of meat, probably a 18 inch radius. In the mornings, that meat was raw and rotating, slowly cooking. I was disgusted. I could not imagine eating that. I couldn't imagine anyone who would eat that.

A month later, I was in Salzburg. I was sitting in the train station, an hour before my train would leave. I was cursing the universe for dumping me in this tourist trap while the entire Atlantic ocean poured out of the sky. I was hungry because all I had eaten was a hot chocolate and pastry (apple strudel?) at some overcrowded, smoke-filled cafe while hiding from the rain. I looked for something, somewhere to eat. My two options? Burger king or kebap. A very literal pick your poison. So I walked up to the stand and ordered my kebap. I watched as the man shaved meat off the spit, revealing a much lighter, less cocked meat inside. I paid my 2 Euros and took my first bite. It was so so good.

So guess what I had for lunch today (a month after that). Yep, you guessed it. A kebap.

Letters

If you chance to meet a frown,

Do not let it stay.

Quickly turn it upside down,

And smile that frown away.

Do you know what actually chases away frowny faces? It's not turning your mouth upside down. That would require turning your head upside down which would give you a headache and eventually kill you. Or it would require something like this:

So, do you know what is really great at chasing away frowns? Letters. It is impossible to be sad when you have just gotten a letter in the mail. Unless of corse that letter is a bill. But if you are like me and the letter is not a bill but something handwritten from someone you love, then it is a great day when you get a letter. Today I got 2 letters! In one envelope was a bunch of letters from all the YW in my ward. It was really sweet of them. In the other envelope was a surprise birthday letter from my best friend KAT! The great thing about that letter was that Kat somehow wrote it on the exact same paper as is in my journal. Kat and I are so in sync. Thanks to everyone!

The Wall

I have hit a wall. It is a big brick one. It happened after I moved in on Friday. I smacked my head against it and have yet to regain consciousness. I just don't want to do anything. I'm exhausted. Probably related to my refusal to go to bed before 2. Because I have internet and people I want to talk to. So I'm exhausted. I have that headache. The one I get during school from not sleeping enough. I don't want to go to German. I can't force myself to go to German. I forgot to bring all my German stuff anyway. I think today will be a sick day. I can take a nap in a park. And get some seriously needed retail therapy. I can always go to German tomorrow.

Ps. It is 6 hours later. I didn't go to German. Instead I took a nap in a park, went shopping (because retail therapy IS a real thing), finally went inside St. Stephan's, and am now reading a book. I'm quickly breaking down the wall.

Moving up

Life with Frau is awful. I haven't really told you guys about it because I didn't want you to worry. I was dealing with it. But it has been terrible. First, there are the ants. They are everywhere. All over my bed, in all my clothes, in my computer, everywhere. It is disgusting. Then last Friday, we had dinner with her and there were ants in the food she served us. Second, Frau is awful. She wants things her way. She will come into my room, while I am there, and close the windows and blinds on a hot day (because she is convinced that somehow that will cool down the house). She comes into my room when I am gone and moves things around. She leaves us mean notes about how messy the bathroom is when we don't keep anything in there. Third, food. She doesn't let us in the kitchen. So we eat out every meal. I have no where to keep any food because the ants get to it in my room and that is the only place we could keep food. Breakfast in 3 pieces of stale bread. Life there has gotten worse there since after the 10 day trip. It has become awful, and it really wasn't just me. Amelia and Jana felt the exact same way.

So we talked to Tom. He said we should leave. It was really bad. So we talked to the institute. And they agreed completely. She isn't doing what she is supposed to be. And you really can't get rid of a problem
like ants. This was decided yesterday afternoon.

Yesterday evening, the woman who works at the school came and talked to us and said she had called Frau to tell her we were moving out. Frau was pretty upset. So she promised Frau we would come and talk to her when we came home last night. We spent a few hours at the institute and then headed home to face the beast. We knocked on her door. She came out with an ugly look on her face. She said "they told me you are moving. I don't understand why. Tell me." So, rather than rehash the whole conversation, let me just tell you it was awkward. She really should have left it with Oh, I'm sorry you are moving, bye. But she didn't. She went on and on about how we needed to talk to her not the secretary and her voice cracked a couple of times because she was close to crying. We just said "ja" and "danke" and we got through it.

This morning, the taxi came and we left. The new place we are living is great. The people are so so so nice. They are a couple in their 60s named Edit and Helmut. They sat us down and spent about 20 minutes explaining to us how to get to/from the house with public transport. Mostly in German, speaking perfect English when we needed it. Then they set up the internet for us. Yes, we have internet. This makes skyping a ton easier! Then they sat down with us and said "so tell us about you". So we told them a bit about us and they told us about themselves, again, as much in German as we could manage. Edit said she tries not to speak English when we can understand it in German. Anyway, my favorite line of the whole thing was when they said "use du, we are family". My second favorite line was when Edit walked into our room. We had the window open and we asked if she would prefer that we close it. She responded, "No, it is your room. Have it as you like." So we are all thrilled to be living here.

Lesson learned:

Rather than endure, try to fix it. Yes, it is noble to endure and you grow from it. But there is no need to put yourself through unnecessary pain. Grow a backbone and change it.

Fiends of the Night

[For Louise's Class]

The summer of my sixteenth birthday the Atlantic Ocean separated my parents and me. Somehow, I was granted permission to live in Vienna. I had finally achieved the independence and freedom all teenagers covet and was excited for my new, perfect life. I did not realize, however, that with my newfound freedom came a great responsibility for myself. I had to learn to choose to do what was right instead of what was fun. Learning that meant I made some pretty big messes.

Such a mess was the night I stayed at a café an hour away from my house watching Law and Order on my computer until midnight. I missed the last bus by about 45 minutes. I was walking up my street at 1 in the morning. To say I was jumpy was an understatement; I had the images of the raped and murdered girls of Law and Order running through my head. I was sure I couldn’t make it home alive.

When I heard a dog bark, I jumped. Not the jump where your back stiffens quickly, my feet actually left the ground. When a man and his German shepherd emerged from a front door, I sped up my walk to a near jog. The dog growled at me. He was not on a leash and I was concerned about his sharp teeth and their ability to tear my flesh. I walked ahead of them, looking over my right shoulder every 3 steps.

I suppose the man grew tired of my fearful looks of accusation. He shouted out something in German. My spine stiffened. I planted my feet and turned around.

“Kein Deutsch. English.” I said it as an apology. Americans are pests here.

“He won’t hurt you.” He pointed at the animal. “He is a guard dog. He is just barking and growling because that is what he is trained to do. He is beautiful, yes?”

I looked at the dog that had trotted ahead of us. I felt like Hagrid had just asked me if his giant spider or baby dragon was precious. This dog was a weapon, a machine of terror. It had no beauty. Still, I did not want to anger this potential rapist.

“Ja, he is beautiful. His coat is so shiny. His teeth are so sharp. And he is really muscular. What a beautiful dog. What kind is he?” I felt like red riding hood flattering the wolf to save herself.

“He is a pure bred German shepherd. His parents were in dog shows.”

“Really? That is so cool. He is very beautiful. Was he in any shows?” I was trying to keep the conversation going. I was still two minutes away from my house. Two minutes was enough time for this man to kill me.

“No. He has a spot of fur that is white on his chest. It is like a model having a birthmark. He couldn’t win anything.”

“Well I’m sorry. He looks like he could have won. Why do you need a guard dog anyway? I was told Vienna is pretty safe.”

“Wien is safe. But this street is known for having burglars.” My stomach dropped as he told me that. Now, in addition to this potential rapist and murder and his dog that would surely cripple me for life, I had more criminals that would prevent me from getting home alive to worry about. He continued, “The dog is better than an alarm. It will not only scare burglars, but also attack them.”

“And he is more beautiful” I added in for good measure. I was ready to leave this man and his beautiful weapon. I was scared. I did not want him to know where I lived. So I lied, “It’s been really nice talking to you, ehhhh, I’m sorry I didn’t get your name.”

“Markus.”

“Well Markus, it has been really great talking to you and learning about your beautiful dog. This is my street, and I have to go. But I hope I see you again.”

And with that I walked down the closest side street, waited until Markus was out of sight, sprinted home, and prayed I would never see the fiends again.