Das Grätzl – your neighborhood or community, a smaller and less top-down way of dividing up the city than the Bezirk system – is incredibly important to Austrians. It’s one way of making a city of 1.8 million people feel smaller and less anomic, and it’s rare for Austrians to move out of their district to another, more foreign part of the city.
Showing posts with label exploring. Show all posts
Showing posts with label exploring. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Re-Evaluation of My Goals for the Semester
Because I will be unable to attend the final discussion for the required Central College Abroad course next week (I have a final for another class), I was asked to write a response paper re-evaluating the goals I had made at the beginning of the semester and reflecting upon my experience in Wien overall. Again, I'll try to post a translation when I have time.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Learning German: der Heurige
Heurigen are wine taverns directly on the property of the vineyards whose wine they serve. They exist throughout the Eastern Austrian wine-producing region, and have become a veritable institution since Kaiser Josef II permitted vintners to begin selling their own wines in 1784. Today, there are two types of Heurigen: touristy places reachable by the tour buses full of Germans who come down to sample Austrian wine, and more rustic accommodations that often require a hike up a meandering mountain path that's too steep for the tour buses to travel. On the last day of my Mom's visit, I wanted to show her one of the latter. With a recommendation from Marie, the assistant director of my program, and a printed map from Wiener Linien (Wien's equivalent of the MBTA), we were ready to go.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Innsbruck
November 1 (All Saints Day / Alle Heiligen) and November 2 (All Souls Day / Alle Seelen) were university holidays in Austria, so my mom and I took a short trip to Innsbruck, the capital city of the province of Tirol.
Monday, September 6, 2010
It's Definitely the Destination, and Not the Journey
Because the journey fucking sucks. There was a crying baby two rows behind me on the plane, and the person in the seat directly behind me thought it would be fun, apparently, to sleep with their head against the tray table, so I couldn't even recline my seat (without giving them a headache, at least). I started feeling nauseous mid-flight from a mix of allergies acting up and sleep deprivation (many of you know how I get), but was too embarrassed to ask for a barf bag, so I just didn't eat anything -- or open my mouth.
Once I got to the Frankfurt airport, I had three trains to catch to the Goethe Institut in Schwäbisch Hall (a small town in southwest Germany). I was worried about making them, because I had only scheduled myself 12 minutes in between each train. That was the naive American talking. In Germany, everyone takes their luggage off the rack, grabs their bags, and lines up in front of the door 10 minutes before the train reaches the station. Exiting the train takes about two minutes, then another two minutes for new riders to get on. A four-minute stop at each station in total. So that's why German trains run on time. Not some bullshit notion of "national character," just the minimal got-it-togetherness of being prepared to exit when it's time to do so. And, of course, knowing that you have another train to catch in six minutes that won't be running late either.
My roommate here at the Goethe Institut is from Japan. She speaks German at a beginning intermediate level, and very little English, so communication could be a little tricky. Oh well, we can practice German on each other.
This morning I took a placement test at the Goethe Institut in speaking, writing, and listening. I was placed at B.2.3, which I about what I expected. The exam moderator also asked if I was interested in a challenge, and true to overachieving Harvard form, I said yes, so she said she would put me in a higher level class if she has enough students to create one. I won't know my final course until tomorrow morning, the first day of classes.
After my placement test, I took an hour and a half walk around the town. There are parks on each side of the riverbank with pedestrian bridges to connect them, and a small park island as well. The park island seems popular with gutter punks, but also with young families. And I got catcalled twice (by an old man and a fifteen-year-old), so being a woman out in public can suck here, too. I'll be sure to Hollaback (great resource!) if anything nasty goes down.
The town itself, being built on a riverbank, is very hilly. Many streets are only for walkers and bikers, and sometimes, the best way to go between streets is to take a staircase. I haven't figured out, though, which staircases are public, and which just lead to someone's backyard. Hopefully I'll get my bearings before any awkward encounters go down.
With all the hiking and biking trails, the medieval-looking buildings, and the lazy, clean-enough-to-glisten-in-the-sunlight river, Schwäbisch Hall is the type of European town you see in the movies (at least before it gets wrecked). Or maybe that only happens in the movies I watch.
Once I got to the Frankfurt airport, I had three trains to catch to the Goethe Institut in Schwäbisch Hall (a small town in southwest Germany). I was worried about making them, because I had only scheduled myself 12 minutes in between each train. That was the naive American talking. In Germany, everyone takes their luggage off the rack, grabs their bags, and lines up in front of the door 10 minutes before the train reaches the station. Exiting the train takes about two minutes, then another two minutes for new riders to get on. A four-minute stop at each station in total. So that's why German trains run on time. Not some bullshit notion of "national character," just the minimal got-it-togetherness of being prepared to exit when it's time to do so. And, of course, knowing that you have another train to catch in six minutes that won't be running late either.
My roommate here at the Goethe Institut is from Japan. She speaks German at a beginning intermediate level, and very little English, so communication could be a little tricky. Oh well, we can practice German on each other.
This morning I took a placement test at the Goethe Institut in speaking, writing, and listening. I was placed at B.2.3, which I about what I expected. The exam moderator also asked if I was interested in a challenge, and true to overachieving Harvard form, I said yes, so she said she would put me in a higher level class if she has enough students to create one. I won't know my final course until tomorrow morning, the first day of classes.
After my placement test, I took an hour and a half walk around the town. There are parks on each side of the riverbank with pedestrian bridges to connect them, and a small park island as well. The park island seems popular with gutter punks, but also with young families. And I got catcalled twice (by an old man and a fifteen-year-old), so being a woman out in public can suck here, too. I'll be sure to Hollaback (great resource!) if anything nasty goes down.
The town itself, being built on a riverbank, is very hilly. Many streets are only for walkers and bikers, and sometimes, the best way to go between streets is to take a staircase. I haven't figured out, though, which staircases are public, and which just lead to someone's backyard. Hopefully I'll get my bearings before any awkward encounters go down.
With all the hiking and biking trails, the medieval-looking buildings, and the lazy, clean-enough-to-glisten-in-the-sunlight river, Schwäbisch Hall is the type of European town you see in the movies (at least before it gets wrecked). Or maybe that only happens in the movies I watch.
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