I held my annual birthday fundraiser a week early this year so that I would have more time to recover before my Eastern European adventure. Dozens of people enjoyed themselves with the guest age range spanning four months to four score. Many regulars and a bunch of newcomers attended, but unfortunately, some regulars could not make it. As usual, I had my hands full entertaining my guests, who seemed to enjoy themselves. Also, I continued to be honored that my friends gave money to charity in memory of Grandpa and Grandma.
My Summer Vacation
A part, a large part, of travelling [sic] is an engagement of the ego v. the world.... The world is hydra headed, as old as the rocks and as changing as the sea, enmeshed inextricably in its ways. The ego wants to arrive at places safely and on time.
--SB, 1990
In early Spring, Goose decided that he needed a vacation from the dozens of emails that I send to him every day. I was intrigued by his proposed itinerary of Prague, Vienna, and Budapest, particularly since it is Mozart's 250th birthday and Freud's 150th birthday. He demonstrated his ability to keep up with me when we visited Boston last year so I expressed interest in the trip. I had never had a sherpa with me on a trip who would contribute so much work and prove as useful as I knew he would. Also, Goose often says, “It's good to try out new material on the road,” and since I'm often looking for new material, I figured this was a good fit.
I began researching the trip by reading travel books and studying the history of the region. I watched The Third Man, and The Night Porter, which were both set in post-WWII Vienna, and I read autobiographies of women who were incarcerated at Theresienstadt (Terezin). Triumph of hope: from Theresienstadt and Auschwitz to Israel by Ruth Elias described a woman's experiences in the two camps. Particularly gruesome was her description of Josef Mengele ordering her breasts to be taped so that he could learn how long her newborn child could survive without food in Auschwitz. Ultimately, she killed her own baby to deprive Mengele of the pleasure. R. Gabriele S. Silten described her adventures and survival in Theresienstadt until its liberation in Between Two Worlds: Autobiography of a Child Survivor of the Holocaust. One of the things that she described was the shows that they produced in the camp; I learned that some of the survivors recently had a reunion concert. Still moved by my visit to Auschwitz last year, I wanted to visit another camp.
People were eager to wish us Bon Voyage and assist with our trip. Son of Good Sister suggested that we visit a heurige outside Vienna and take the hydrofoil from Vienna to Budapest. We would not have discovered these on our own and they both turned out to be wins for Team Top Gun. The Good Sister would have been proud!
When translating one must proceed up to the intranslatable; only then one becomes aware of the foreign nation and the foreign tongue.
--JWVG, circa 1800
Since Czech, German, and Hungarian are languages with which I have almost no experience, I was hungry for some linguistic assistance. Surprisingly, 5S, taught me that “Szép fenék” means “nice ass” in Hungarian. Apparently, she had forgotten what a great memory I have and she instantly regretted her offering.
A tennis buddy taught me the German equivalent, “Schöner hintern.”
“Oh, like 'danke schön',” I asked.
“Yes, and if you play your cards right, that will be the response you'll get,” he confirmed.
I bumped into KB at a tennis tournament and I asked her to help me with my pronunciation of “danke schön hintern.” Long a loyal reader and dedicated athletic supporter, she was eager to assist me.
“What are you trying to say,” she wondered.
“Thanks for the nice ass,” I replied.
“Oh, then you need to add 'er' to ' schön' as 'ass' is masculine,” she instructed.
“Not in my book,” I protested.
“What?” she inquired.
“Well, if the 'ass' is masculine, then I'm on the wrong side of the block,” I explained.
She also offered me some alternatives, but since she is married, I did not bother to note her preference. Our conversation encouraged her to research and email the Czech version, “pøíjemný osel,” to me. Since I never did get the pronunciation, we had to resort to written awards while we were in Prague. Mom was very proud of my new knowledge as she noted that I've long been appreciative and complimentary.
The virtue of the camera is not the power it has to transform the photographer into an artist, but the impulse it gives him to keep on looking.
--BA, 1951
This is the first trip I've taken without a film camera. I borrowed Goose's old digital camera and while he fired the Camera of Record, I shot with Stardate Supplemental. Like most comparisons in life, there are both pros and cons of using a digital camera compared with a film camera. For the pros, it was nice to review pictures at meals or at the end of the day to relive experiences in more or less real time. Also, since the capacity of the memory disks is much greater than any roll of film, the logistics of data collection was easier. However, largely due to software with poor user interfaces, organizing hundreds of pictures from multiple sources was extremely time consuming. Anyone know a talented user experience architect? (More on this later.)
I managed to prepare a highlights reel before I could tackle the complete job of organizing hundreds of pictures from two sources. One of the reasons that there are so many pictures is that Goose is a fan of French Impressionism, as I am. He consequently took pictures of statues with every type of lighting and this added considerably to the total number. I was happy to receive favorable praise for the highlights reel. However, R-Man registered his disappointment that women's behinds ruined the views in some of our pictures.
Following is my travel log of the best that Prague, Vienna, and Budapest have to offer. Enjoy!
Prague
Woman, or more precisely put, perhaps, marriage, is the representative of life with which you are meant to come to terms.
--FK, 1918
We began our trip to Prague by exploring the synagogues and related Jewish sites in Josefov, the Jewish section of town. I was impressed with the tremendous collection of Jewish artifacts displayed in the Maisel and Spanish Synagogues and wondered how they all survived the War. Then I remembered that they were saved with Hitler's blessings as he was interested in building a museum to a dead race. The Pinkas Synagogue displayed the names of 77,297 Jewish Czech victims of the Holocaust. We saw the old Jewish cemetery featuring graves from the 15th century. It is the oldest Jewish cemetery in Europe and it was overcrowded with graves 12 deep in places because Jews were not allowed to be buried outside the Ghetto. The Klausova Synagogue had a wonderful display of the Jewish calendar as represented by holidays on the first floor while the second floor featured life events as one walked around the room. I was also eager to be on the trail of the Golem, precursor to Frankenstein and other creatures made from lifelessness. According to legend, its ashes are in the attic of the Old-New Synagogue (Staronová Synagoga), Europe's oldest active synagogue.
Czech is quite a bit different from English and other languages with which I am familiar. Some signs had diacriticals that we don't see back home and some signs were easier to understand than others. Nevertheless, we did not have any serious language problems here or elsewhere. Money still definitely serves as a universal translator.
We visited the castle and while we didn't find any dragons or moats, we did learn about the cool political technique called defenestration. We also saw the changing of the guard. On our way down Golden Lane from the castle, we passed by Kafka's house. Later, before returning to our side of Charles Bridge, we visited a wall in remembrance of John Lennon that reminded me of the wall I saw in front of Abbey Road studios in London.
One of the highlights of our entire trip was seeing Don Giovanni in the Estates Theater, where it premiered hundreds of years ago. I really enjoyed the opera and understood most of it except for the part where Don melted like the Wicked Witch at the end.
As mentioned earlier, I was looking forward to visiting Theresienstadt. Goose researched a few travel agencies that could take us there, however, with more independent travel under my belt, I was confident that we would have more flexibility and time there by getting ourselves there and back. I did, however, arrange for a guided tour of the camp. On the public bus we took to the fortress, we discovered others with the same destination. As with other Jewish sites we visited, Theresienstadt had enough appeal that non-Jewish tourists visited it. Even though many of the prisoners died from the horrible conditions, Terezin was not an extermination camp. It did, however, feature bunks similar to ones that I saw last year at Auschwitz and Majdanek. In the theater at Theresienstadt, we saw excerpts of the propaganda film the Nazis made that showed how they scammed the Red Cross into thinking that the Jews were treated well there.
Another highlight of the trip for me was visiting Mozart's house at Bertramka, where we enjoyed a concert in Mozart's living room. We saw another konzerte in period costume later in the week when we saw the Wiener Mozart Orchester at one of Vienna's best venues, the Musikverein. I enjoyed seeing people in period costume so much that I wanted to see how I would look in that version of sartorial splendor.
We also enjoyed the irony of seeing a McDonald's and a casino near the Communism Museum. Quite a juxtaposition having these buildings near others that have not changed for hundreds of years.
The climax of our trip to Prague occurred with a serendipitous discovery of a museum that was not mentioned in any of the books that we perused. One of the joys of traveling is the act of discovery and I certainly discovered things here that I had never seen before. Like other museums we saw during our trip, there were exhibits that were amusing, inspiring, thought provoking, and scary as they related to history, art, and technology. We researched the US patents after we returned home.
Vienna
Made a lightning trip to Vienna
Eating chocolate cake in a bag
--JWOL, 1969
When we arrived in Vienna, I deputized Goose to guard the bags as I conducted recon to find an ATM and a taxi to our hotel. I finally found the ATM, but things did not look good. A guy was walking away from the ATM empty handed and told me that the ATM was “nicht.” I try to learn new words wherever I go and I took that to mean “broken.” Dispensing with yet another male stereotype, I asked someone where I could find an ATM that wasn't nicht. Mission accomplished and we made it to our hotel on a very sweet street near the Opera House in record time.
The room was very nice, but unfortunately the shower was not working well. En route to the excellent hotel breakfast, I told the nice woman at the desk that our shower was nicht. Goose frequently praises my linguistic talents and I wanted to give him another opportunity to do so. The following day, the desk lady inquired about our shower. I told her that it was still “eine kleine nicht.” I must have impressed her with my language skills; they managed to de-nicht our shower just in time for our departure a few days later.
The great question that has never been answered, and which I have not yet been able to answer, despite my thirty years of research into the feminine soul, is “What does a woman want?”
--SF, circa 1920
At the Sisi Museum, we learned that Empress Sisi had a 20 inch waist. We had a difficult time imagining it, but it sounded like a good idea, so we played along.
While I am usually a very agreeable dining companion since I enjoy so many types of food, I had a challenging time eating in Vienna because many of the menus featured pork and veal and these are two of the very few items not on my diet. Wanting to get something I enjoy in my mouth, I asked the desk clerk if he could help me find Hooters. After consulting his computer, he replied, “Hooters no more in central Vienna.” As an alternative, we dined at a Chinese restaurant and I amused myself with the irony of using Chinese food as a means to avoid eating pork.
I was, however, disappointed to not find Wiener Hooters as I wanted to learn whether the term was best described as a mixed metaphor, Catch-22, cognitive dissonance, iambic pentameter, or an oxymoron. After clicking my heels together, I realized that I had had the answer all along. In Prague, I learned that DW was correct. Wiener Hooters is best characterized as stage directions. I guess this means that I'll have to let DW beat me in Singles once again.
We enjoyed touring the Schönbrunn Palace and learned that it was good to be Emperor. We also toured a house that Mozart used several times in Vienna. It is located near what was formerly a Jewish section of town and several synagogues and I imagine that Amadeus was very popular on the Bar Mitzvah circuit.
One of the things I was looking to find on the trip was Absinthe. It is a drink enjoyed by Van Gogh and other artsy types, but it is controversial and has questionable legality in the States. I managed to find it in a few stores in Prague, but I wanted to enjoy it in a restaurant or bar as I read that the preparation was crucial. Always looking out for me, Goose noticed it on the dinner menu before one of our Mozart concerts. I enjoyed the drink and its preparation, but for better or worse, I didn't see Mozart in the sky with diamonds.
We toured the Vienna Opera House, where the home team claim You Can't Always Get What You Want while they are adding Another Brick in the Wall. I especially enjoyed sitting in the Emperor's chair in the Royal Box. This reminded me of when I had my butt in Evita's chair at the Colon Theater in Buenos Aires. I enjoy being close to other royal asses.
We were born before the wind
Also younger than the sun
Ere the bonnie boat was won as we sailed into the mystic
Hark, now hear the sailors cry
Smell the sea and feel the sky
Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic
--VM, 1970
After seeing everything but Freud's house in Vienna, we got up early to take a hydrofoil to Budapest. I had not taken a ship for transportation since I enjoyed a Caribbean cruise several years ago. I enjoy the water and boats and was looking forward to seeing sights that the train ride would not afford. I enjoyed humming the Blue Danube Waltz for several hours, and we passed through several locks on our voyage to Budapest. I was not sure why they wanted to raise the water on one side of the locks since flood control did not seem to be an issue, but I did not let it keep me up nights.
Budapest
Saint Stephen with a rose
In and out of the garden he goes
Country garden in the wind and the rain
Wherever he goes the people all complain
--RH, 1969
We stayed in excellent hotels in both Prague and Vienna. However, we were really looking forward to our Budapest hotel as it was rated the third best hotel in Europe, right behind Paris Hilton—an excellent location enjoyed by many.
At dinner our first night, I asked our waiter how to say “thank you” in Hungarian; he taught me “köszönöm.” We enjoyed our dinner so much that I wanted to give the waiter a present.
“I have one for you,” I said.
“OK, what do you have?” he asked.
“Szép fenék,” I replied.
“You mean for the girls?” he wondered.
“With any luck,” I assured him.
On our first full day in Budapest, we visited the Dohány Street Synagogue or Great Synagogue (Dohány utcai Zsinagóga/Nagy Zsinagóga), where Franz Liszt once played the organ. It's the second largest synagogue in the world, right behind New York's Temple Emanu-El—an excellent location enjoyed by many. The Nazis used it as a concentration camp and Adolf Eichman had an office upstairs. At the synagogue, we saw the memorial tree built above the mass graves of Hungarian Jewish martyrs.
Later in the week, we explored more of the Jewish ghetto, where we saw monuments to people who saved Jews during the Holocaust. In 1910, 23% of the city was Jewish; now the population is under 5%. However, we saw indications that there are Jews are returning to the area.
While heading up to the castle, we stumbled upon an air show on the Danube. Later, we explored Fisherman's Bastion. Finally, we learned what the guide books promised: Hungarians love Goose.
Homeward bound
I wish I was
Homeward bound
Home, where my thought's escaping
Home, where my music's playing
--PS, 1966
We passed through Schipol airport on the way home. While Goose went in search of brownies and other preparations for our final leg, I went to view the remote outpost of the Rijksmuseum that I remembered from my last visit. I was glad that I went as it featured an exhibit on Rembrandt. It is his 400th birthday and I don't like to miss a party. We survived the heightened security searching for shampoo, and made it back to SFO after a very long day.
It's good to have the both of you back
--JWOL, 1969
When we returned, our friends were very eager to learn about our trip, hear stories of our adventures, and otherwise be entertained by us. It's nice to be missed. Fortunately, there were many opportunities to get together and debrief. Even the Club Adam breakfast lady missed me and said that people had been asking about my whereabouts. I'm eager to resume my morning Spanish lessons.
you know it ain't easy
You know how hard it can be
--JWOL, 1969
I returned to work the day after I returned to the States only to the learn that many of my colleagues lost their jobs the previous week. Adding insult to injury, I lost my job as well. I guess they were saving the best for last. Always thinking positively, I continue to be grateful that my employers remove me from their payrolls before my options vest to prevent my losing money on their stock. For example, the stock of the company right before this one is down 40% in the eight months since I left. My employment status continues to be a valuable stock market indicator.
Fortunately, my phone has been ringing off the hook for a year. Now that I'm not at work during the day, the headhunters are less likely to get my home answering machine and less likely to get me at my work number, where they have been calling with surprising and disturbing frequency. I must say that I enjoy the refreshing novelty of being on the favorable side of the supply/demand curve and appreciate interacting with people who return messages promptly and reliably.
While the interviewing is fun, but tiring, I do not like the negotiation stage: another in a long list of female stereotypes that I exhibit. Fortunately, I'm already in the end game of negotiations with a few players and one of the Bay Area's best user experience architects may have a new job by the time you read this. I haven't had such a fast turnaround since I came back after being down a set and a half in a tournament a few years ago.
Thanks for reading to the end. Let me know if you want to see more pix as there are way too many to include here.
Děkuji, danke, and köszönöm for playing.
© Adam Brody All rights reserved.
If you liked what you read above, then please consider a donation to the Israel Emergency Campaign to assist people with transportation away from danger, furnishing ill-equipped shelters, purchasing protective gear for rescue workers, and providing other essentials for residents.
Find more to read in the Table of Contents
No comments:
Post a Comment