Lost in a Forest...In love with the Greenery

Can't claim the title, it's from a classic song by Poor Old Lu and old favorite of mine. I've always been a sucker for witty lyrics. Okay, maybe not always. I've listened to plenty of drivel to be certain, not to mention all those songs that I even semi-sing along with, but haven't a clue what I'm saying, or what they're saying, or what it would mean even if I did understand what they're saying. It actually gets even funnier when you combine hard to decipher lyrics with non-native English speakers. The Corrs song "Leave me breathless" just might turn into "leave me Bradley"... you just never know.
But that's all quite beside the point. Like I said, I like those lines that make me think more deeply and spin me into thoughts of my own. Back in the day when I was an aspiring artistic e-mail writer, I enjoyed incorporating the lyrics of whatever I was listening to into my letters. I did cite them, no copywrite infringement or anything, but I found it odd how often they were able to express exactly what I was trying to say but somehow coming up short with.
So as I was sitting here in my parent's living room on a Sunday afternoon I had this line flutter into my head and realized it really does suit the mood of my recent days. I won't go into a full break down of all this song could mean, but more just how it hits me at the moment. Right now I sorta feel like I'm stuck in the midst of this sea of possibilities with no idea which way to turn or what to do or how to achieve ANY of it. I love the life I've been blessed to live, the experiences I've been able to have, all the trappings of what has come. But when I have to write out a resume I can see why people might balk a bit at wanting to employ me. My work experience is not only spread across the board of varieties, it's also spread across the globe. My transience is evident as my jobs go from CA to HK to OR to AK to CZ and here I am in ID. Come again? I've been able to experience so much that I'm not suited for anything in there here and now of every day real life.
The truth is, I would love to just be a novelist, to feel content spending hours typing away the ideas in my mind, knowing there was an audience out there chomping at the bit to read what I've come up with. But life is not predictable like that. So instead, I sit here stressing that I can't even get a fresh out of High School job because, in a sense, there's just too much to me.
I've been stateside for a little over four months now, and I've already hit the flee stage. This is where I start trying to figure out what I can do next to get mobile. I watch "House Hunters International" and dream of exotic locations. I have dreams about Hong Kong and the life I lived there, and I can hardly bring myself to even think of my pictures from Czech and the time I spent traipsing about Europe, hanging out in castles and cafes all chalk full of culture.
Then again, there's that part of me that's just begging to...dare I say the irritating word... nest (to be whispered in a hushed voice). I've been in an unsettled state of dwelling since July. And even before that my cozy world was invaded for the school year by a sort of monster that made it impossible to feel at home in my own home. I'm ready for a place where I can put my pictures on the walls, and organize my knickknacks from a life of world traveling and make my statement.
I need focus, balance, purpose, all those good things. I need (ugh) a job. Something to kick me out of the slump and re-energize me. After all, there are all these stories that need to be told, and I'm the one who's meant to tell them.

Friendships Are Life-Long

I have been so blessed to have a lot of really wonderful friends. Some have been in my life for only a short period of time, largely due to geography, while others have managed to really stick around despite the distance. While the internet has provided a number of services that make it easier to remain in contact with people around the world, nothing replaces actually have a chance to spend real time with them. What an amazing gift to have been able to visit with my lovely friend Malin twice in the same year.
Life being the way it is, she unfortunately had to be at work most of the time we were in Stockholm, but she was absolutely amazing in making us feel more than welcome. Mark really wanted to make sure he experienced Swedish culture through cuisine, and Malin was more than happy to help us out with that. During the course of our stay she made us Reindeer gravy with mashed potatoes and Lingonberry sauce, Swedish Moose Meatballs with milk boiled macaroni, ice cream with Cloudberry sauce, and Swedish pancakes with an assortment of berry toppings. She was an incredible host, and is just an all around amazing person who I am so thankful to know. What an amazing holiday.
And now I'll tell a bit more about the running around town that we had a chance to do. On Friday we did a lot of walking through the city. Once again we discovered a super cool church not far away from Malin's place. And yeah for fall colors!

Then we made our way to the main tourist shopping area of town. It was fun to wander around through the shops. I found a nice journal in a Swedish paper store which made me happy. Nice to get something that is so suited to my personality :) I also enjoyed the little mascot on the street.


Our walk took us through the shopping district and then to another entrance to the old town island. I enjoyed the entry gates. Pretty majestic.


We enjoyed more little tourist shops, yet somehow managed not to spend all our money. This time we avoided the pricey cafes in that part of town however. Definitely a wise move. I stuck to just taking some pictures rather than pulling out my wallet.

After a quick lunch we headed to the Music Museum and we really enjoyed it a lot. The price was right (only 50 SEK) and there were sooooo many hands on exhibits. It was super cool. Plus they had all sorts of different instruments from around the world to look at with headphones to hear samples of them in action

We might not have had a chance to get a good photo of the ABBA house, but we did enjoy the ABBA display they had which included actual instruments used by the band as well as a room where you could dress up and sing Karaoke. Pretty entertaining. Too bad my voice was mostly out due to my silly cold.
They also had a nice display about the opera singer Jenny Lindwho toured the world in the 19th century and is now featured on the 50 SEK note.
On Saturday, our last real day in Stockholm, Malin was free and so we sent Mark back to the museum for a while so we could do some shopping. It was great to have a little girly time and to enjoy H&M in its natural habitat. They had some good sales going on, and I had my fashion guru along to help me pick up a few things with which we were both well pleased. After the little fashion frenzy, we met up with Mark again for lunch at Max to try Swedish hamburgers. The place was pretty much packed out, which we soon came to see was a very common situation for the places Malin liked to take us :) It reminded me a bit of eating at City Super in Hong Kong and having to stare at people at their tables, willing them to finish faster so we could sit. We did finally get a seat and everyone enjoyed the freshly made burgers, and yet another taste of Sweden.
The three of us did a little more shopping to find a souvenir or two and even managed to get a couple boxes of The Royal Wedding Chocolate. We found it pretty entertaining. It was even more interesting when we opened it up at home and found an even larger photo of the wedding couple inside. The oldest Swedish princess and heir to the throne got married this summer, and these are some of the leftovers that they're trying to sell while they're still good. It really was very impressive chocolate, and we ate it in pretty straight order after we got home.
Wanting Mark to have a chance to experience Fika, which is the Swedish term for the time in the day when you take a break and eat something sweet, Malin took us to another packed out place. This one was a little French cafe that specializes in ENORMOUS Swedish cinnamon buns. One was more than enough for the three of us together.

Before the trip Mark and I had done a little research to find out top sights in Sweden, and one of the things we read about was the TV tower. Since we'd been talking about it since the first day and still hadn't made it there, Malin suggested we go and see it while she worked on making the Swedish pancakes for dinner. It was too bad she wasn't able to come with us, because it ended up taking quite a while to get there and back, and that meant less time to spend with her, but that's the way things go sometimes.
The walk there through Nobel Park, a place that was originally meant to house a large monument to Nobel (which was rejected) and now is the home to all but one variety of plant that grows naturally in Sweden, was really beautiful. We had to pause to get a photo or two along the way.


We also enjoyed lots of views of the TV tower itself on our walk up.



We took the turbo elevator thirty floors to the top and enjoyed the view from the restaurant as well as the outdoor caged in view on the level above. It was all pretty breathtaking.

The run/walk back to Malin's, after being informed by the bus driver that we couldn't buy tickets on the bus, was even more breathtaking. But somehow we made it and were rewarded with Swedish pancakes and amazing company. We stayed in the rest of the evening, tired after all the running around, and knowing that the 5 AM alarm would come all too soon once again.
All our transport home went pretty smoothly, but we still didn't get back to Marianske Lazne until about 6 in the evening, making the trip about the same length in both directions. In all, it was a really great trip and I'm so thankful for having had the chance to have yet another amazing travel experience.

Sumava Rocks

This past weekend I went with Mark to Susice, a small town in south Czech, to visit his grandmother. As I wrote in my last post, there was a crazy storm here that did a lot more damage than I had realized. When we went to the train station we were informed that we would be delayed a good twenty minutes and would have to take a bus because the tracks were littered with debris (meaning large trees) that had been blown about during the storm. So, we were off to a bit of a rocky start, but were still eager to see what the trip had in store for us.
Before leaving we had been told a little bit about his grandmother's boyfriend, and we were both curious to see what the man was like. I think precious is the best word to describe Fanda. At 87 years of age, he is quite the character. Shortly after our arrival in Susice we were being served a huge meal (we'd eaten in Plzen on our way there because of the train delay and weren't exactly hungry) but how do you say no to a sweet Babicka? So our plates were filled and we were promptly informed that there was more available if we wanted.
For the first round of lunch drinks I was able to get away with drinking only water. Quite sufficient for me really. But Fanda used to work in a bar, and is Czech through and through. He couldn't seem to understand that I really wasn't interested in drinking beer, and so after my water was finished he promptly (or as promptly as an elderly man can manage) refilled my glass with beer. Again I ask, how do you say no to a sweet little old man with his encouraging smile and twinkling eyes? He then insisted that we must have music. So he put in an old cassette of classical Czech folk music and began to sing along in a shaky old man voice, pounding the table for emphasis when the music required it. This, however, was not quite enough. Music was made for dancing, wasn't it? And dancing is what he had in mind. His ideal partner? Well, apparently that would be me. So after being stuffed with a hearty Czech meal, served a small glass of beer and an unsolicited shot of peppermint liquor (which tastes like drinking mouthwash)a dance was clearly in order. So dance I did. That is if you can call what I did dancing. Definitely won't be winning any competitions, but I managed not to ever be stepped on too seriously. And all the while Mark just laughed and cheered Fanda on.
After the entertaining first meeting Mark and I headed out to see some of the town. The whole place was full of memories for Mark. It was really wonderful to be able to see so many places that were important to him as he was growing up. We hiked up a mountain to a lovely little chapel. Mark told me the legend of the place. It was originally designed to be a lookout over the town to protect from attacks and disasters. One day a boy was playing there and he was bitten by a poisonous snake. He should have died, but an angel came and saved his life, so they built the chapel there to give thanks for his deliverance. We weren't able to go inside the building, but we enjoyed the view and had a nice walk around.




We headed back to the house and Mark visited with his grandma, who naturally insisted on giving us more food :) It's amazing we were able to walk after being so stuffed, and she always made sure to let us know that there was more if we wanted. Super sweet.
Around 8 we headed out for the music festival. The sky had grown dark and there were a few drips of rain so we both had umbrellas along, but were hoping it wouldn't be too serious since we were going to an outdoor festival called Sumava Rocks We bought our tickets and listened to the first girl up for a while. Then there was a break so we went for a little walk. While we were out the storm began to settle in. At first the rain wasn't too heavy and the thunder only seemed to be competition for the festival drums, but it quickly began to grow in intensity. We went back to listen to the second band and the rain really started to come down heavily.
Charlie Straight provided us with some serious amusement. A group of boys who looked about 17, trying hard to act like real rock stars. We're talking tight pants and bad dancing, trying to get the crowd to clap as they really only wanted to stay dry under their umbrellas, even an over the top entry into the crowd whilst playing the guitar. It was...special to say the least. It was hard to tell if the drunken crowd was making fun of them or honestly encouraging them, but when they cheered for one more song at the end it was pretty evident that, regardless of how ridiculous we felt them to be, they had a fan base.
By the end of their show the rain was coming down in buckets. Sadly, the band that Mark really wanted to see was coming up next. We left the grounds for a few minutes, and found a roof to huddle under. Mark was already soaked to the skin, and I wasn't far from it, my feet sliding around inside my sandals making every step an effort. But we really wanted to give it a try, so we waited until we thought they should be up and headed back.
Things hadn't gotten any better in the few minutes we'd been away. If anything the rain was coming down harder than ever. Each time I thought it couldn't become any more torrential, it would seem to double in its intensity. There was a question over whether the band would be able to go on or not, but, after another ten or twenty minutes of us watching the water rise up from the ground around our feet, the crowd surged back around us as Ivan Mladek and his banjo band took the stage. I'm not sure if the link will work, I was having some issues with it, but I'll try to describe them a bit. We're talking an ancient group of musicians, straight from a Czech folk sorta fest. I was the only one in the crowd who couldn't sing along with every word. They were definitely classic showmen. It was a lot of fun, and the rain definitely POURED down.

After three or four songs Mark was so freezing that as much as he loved it, he felt it was time for us to go. And a good decision it was. As we tried to rush away we were soon confronted by a serious stream of water that used to be the trail. With squeals and shivers we plunged ahead, the water surging around our ankles with every step. A few times it appeared as though we were going to rise up from the water, only to discover we were passing through waves. We were getting closer to home, but suddenly the water went more up to my knees. It was definitely an act of God that we turned from our chosen path at that moment. We would later see in the morning that had we continued in our current direction the trail would have become the actual river and we would have been facing more serious problems than just being wet. We slogged our way through a playground and finally made our way to the street where we fared a bit better than on the path. What a relief to finally make it back to the house. Unfortunately sleep wasn't an easy thing to find either. Not only were there constantly people shouting in the street (rather a shock considering the weather) but at about 3 AM an air raid style siren went off ordering evacuation. They apparently said something about fire, but it was actually about the river. We learned later that it was a warning for the people who were camping for the festival.
When we got up in the morning we looked out to a crazy watery world. We could see then that our path disappeared directly into a raging river. We were definitely thankful that we'd been rescued from that disaster.
After a small breakfast with "Babi" we were taken on a little trip by Fanda. I remember how frightening it was the last time I rode with my own grandfather, and that was a good many years ago. This was...well...worse. We set off in the ancient red Skoda, praying that all would be well. There were no seat belts in the back of this classic beast, so prayer really was what held us together.

I'll spare you the details of the drive, but harrowing would be a decent word as we wound our way up through the forested hills to the small village of Dobra Voda to see the museum dedicated to Dr. Simon Adler, a Jew who died along with his wife in Auschwitz. He was a very important man back in his day, and his sons had sponsored this museum about his life and the lives of other Jews who had lived in the region.

It was pretty interesting, as was the nearby church that we learned had housed horses during Communism. The whole area had been off limits during that era because it was near the border so only soldiers were allowed to be there. It's now a very peaceful farming area complete with hillside fields surrounded by thick woods and filled with a variety of brown cows ranging from deep maroon and white to a soft honey color. I tried to concentrate on the lovely region rather than the somewhat questionable driving. But the driver was precious and he did manage to get us safely back to the house where, of course, there was more food ready for us, and we were also instructed to warm up with "Grog" (a shot of rum mixed with boiling water, lots of sugar and a little lemon juice). I sipped mine gingerly and was thankful for the warmth having run about the countryside in shorts and a t-shirt, totally freezing because my jacket and capris were still soaking wet.
After lunch Mark and I took a little time to look around the town. It was a lovely little place and we're hoping to have a chance to visit again.

Here you can see a picture of the house where we were staying, and how it's so close to the river. By the time I was taking pictures the water had already gone down dramatically. You can also see the path we were taking in the night. In this photo there is still some water crossing over it, but in the night the entire area was part of the river. Pretty scary really.


Overall it was a really interesting and emotional trip. Before we left I had another dance with Fanda and after it he said that I was "Nase" which means "ours." He was pretty much ready to keep me there. He drove us to the station, where, I'm not going to lie, the back door of the car popped open in transit. Fortunately I was able to close it (and no, it wasn't the door on the side of the car that I had entered so I really wasn't to blame.) But again, we got there safely and said a sad farewell. Mark and I both agreed that it would be good if we could go back again before we head to the US. Family is so important after all.