Between Two Worlds

Facebook still won’t let me upload all my photos, so for now, here’s a sampling from my trip to Prague with my family. We had a fantastic time despite the cold (it snowed every day we were there). I don’t know if it’s always been like this or if I just notice it more now that I live on my own, but when I’m with my family I laugh more often and much harder than I normally do. We crack each other up. It’s probably really good for my abs.

Michael with his African espresso and banana. What a combo.

Vendors on the Charles Bridge.

It’s a beautiful city.

The Old Jewish Cemetery. I thought it was really cool and took a lot more pictures of it, but I’ll spare you.

That’s all for now. I’ll post a link to the full album when I am able to upload it. Now, watch for a post about Greece… soon.

At the beginning of spring break, my friend Nicole was visiting and my family, too. The five of us decided to take a day trip to France in search of a World War I memorial site called Hartzmannwillerkopf. The problem: that is the German name, and we didn’t know what it was called in French. So we spent some time wandering the countryside by car and foot in search of the elusive place.

After stopping in a lovely French town for lunch, we stopped at a bakery and who should walk in but a troop of four BFA students, one of them from my dorm? After we hugged and simultaneously exclaimed, “What are you doing here?” Rachel replied, “I live here! Right around the corner!” So it was her dad who graciously gave us directions to Hartzmannwillerkopf and informed us of its French name. After that we found the place without further confusion.

It was a beautiful, sobering place. The views are amazing. It’s hard to imagine people killing each other in such a breathtaking locale.

Michael, Nicole, and I explored the woods at the bottom of the hill and found one of the trenches.

After that, we drove up to Colmar, an idyllic spot in the Alsace region. There we walked around and tried to have dinner. The first restaurant we went to, though, was only serving drinks (despite having a food menu prominently displayed outside). So we paid for our water and went to another restaurant.

“Little Venice” in Colmar.

A real French poodle.

And that was our day in France. Photos of other travels to come soon… if Facebook ever decides to let me upload them.

Sometimes I feel like I am living someone else’s life. The experiences I’m having don’t seem like they can be real. How can I casually say, “Last night I got back from five days in Greece”? And the week before that, Prague? Yet it’s true. This wandering life is a strange one. The places I’ve dreamed of seeing for myself are glorious, yes, as I imagined they would be – but they all have harsh, real undersides. This trip to Greece especially brought that to my attention. The islands, the Mediterranean, the mountains, and the ancient sites are idyllic; full of beauty. But the city is dirty, the government unstable, and many people live in poverty. When we were there, overflowing dumpsters lined the streets because of a recent strike. Whenever we asked about a bus departure time or when stores would be open, we got a tentative answer followed by, “but this is Greece.” The implication was that in Greece, one never knows what to expect.

It’s a stark contrast: the filth of the city and the beauty of nature. Now that I am back in Germany, I find myself contemplating the city and the people more than the gorgeous scenery. It’s a lot different here. Germany seems sterile by comparison. It presents a near-perfect image to the world: spotless sidewalks, storybook houses, excellent train and bus systems. It makes me wonder how it’s possible. I know Germany has poverty, too, but here I am not confronted daily with it in the form of cracking sidewalks, homeless people begging for a Euro or a bite to eat, and buildings on the verge of crumbling. It’s easy to forget about the poor when you live in a clean, pristine world. And in many ways, Germany is even cleaner and more pristine than the States.

Prague had visible poverty, too, and another element – it was a under a communist regime from the end of World War II until the “Velvet Revolution” in 1989. My family and I went to the Museum of Communism, which is located in the same building as a casino (irony? I don’t know, but I thought it was funny). It was a well done explanation of life under communism. The aspect that surprised me most (though I suppose it shouldn’t have) was the exhibit of cartoons and other propaganda about the United States and western Europe. They demonized capitalism just as much (or more) than America demonized communism in the ’50s and ’60s. Some of the accusations were so outlandish that they were funny – like a report blaming America for a potato famine. It claimed that U.S. planes dropped something on Czech crops that caused their potato plants to die that year. Apparently most people believed this, which is incredible, but then, under communism they had only one source of “news,” so it must have been difficult to tell truth from untruth.

I hope to post pictures later today, so stay tuned.