What We Do Here

I have been talking about the discovery group a bit and referring to things as if you are fully aware of what we do while in Russia. I will take some time here describing more fully what we do. At the same time I will use our recent trip to the countryside to exemplify what it was that we are doing.

We arrived in some city about 90 minutes train ride from Moscow. Only our group leaders know the name of the city. Not that it is a big secret, just that they are the kind of leaders who are not terribly adept at getting the many jumbled ideas in their head organized in such a way that information dissemination is possible on a very detailed level. I am accustomed to this after 8 years of working with Jean. She is an incredible person and I trust her to always choose the best path she can find. She is not only the head of our program but also one of those few people I care enough about to tell her what I am really feeling, and not just what I am thinking. She is a true friend and mentor. From the train station we were driven to a camp for kids led by Father Yvimmeny. We were given a room to drop our backpacks in and headed to the main hall to begin our program.

Jean designes the program and gives us sheets of paper with an outline of what we will be doing. Really it is a list of names of different activities to be done throughout the day. It is important to do them in order as each activities builds on skills learned previously. For every program, Jean leads the icebreakers and the staff, that’s us, is involved as well. Our role at this point is to participate and motivate the other participants. Hey if some guy next to you is shaking hands like a fish then it must be ok right? At least that is what I assume goes through their head because they will do some pretty wild thing. To me shaking hands like a fish is ALWAYS ok, even if you are the only one doing it. Jean leads several events like partner tag and playing card on the forehead, then she will tell a story, and end with some upbeat activity. One of the things I Learned from Jean is how to teach by telling stories. The lesson does not always need to be obvious and there can be more than one. I find it to be a very effective method of teaching as it allows the learner to develop a connection with the lesson instead of just lecturing and memorizing. Finally Jean will break up the large group into smaller more manageable groups and turn them over to our care. At this point Jean becomes a problem solver and an assistant to us.

We will lead the group trough several activities that develop a bond in the group while demonstrating self worth. They are required to problem solved, complete physically difficult tasks, and always discuss the results after each event. The activities are where the skills are learned, the discussion is where we help them find out what they already know. Either discussion or activity can be effective but by combining the two a synergy is created and the growth is incredible in a short amount of time.

My group was particularly difficult. In fact it was by far the most difficult group I have ever worked with. I am not sure if that was due to the group, the fact that it was the first group of this trip (ie warm up group), or because I was jet lagged. In the end my group grew and I could see the growth happen. I bonded with my group and they bonded to me. They bonded with each other and showed genuine concern where before there was very little. Everything I expect to see in a group. The problem was my head was not in the game. I was just going through the motions without any real commitment. I was frustrated most of time and exhausted. I assume they saw my frustration but they did not seem to react to it so perhaps I was not as apparent as I thought. Heather told me she did not see my frustration and she is supposed to be the one person able to read me most easily. Generally in a 3 hour period we will lead about 5 events with discussions, in our personal group. The first day I led 3 in the morning and two in the afternoon. The second day I lead 3 events all day instead of the 10 I should have been able to complete. The goal, of course, is for the participants to grow on a personal level, the goal is not to complete as many events as possible. My group was a huge success but I left feeling frustrated and drained.

While we were at the winter camp several cool things (pun intended) happened but I will only share two for now. I always enter a group exuding energy out of every poor. I am bouncy, happy, playful, and motivating. This program was no different. Sometimes this earns me a fan club. This was one of those times. I immediately had several of the kids around me and wanting to play, talk, fyi I do not speak Russian, and just hang out. After lunch several of the little girls wanted me to go back to their dorm to chit chat. I really just wanted to take a nap or crawl in a hole and hide for an hour. I decided to tell them I was going to do something outrageous in the hopes that they would shy away from me and I could have some solitude. I told them I planned on going out in the snow in the forest and getting really cold while rolling in the snow without a jacket. Much to my chagrin they all agreed enthusiastically. They insisted on wearing coats but I resisted the urge to wimp out and I played in just a short sleeve shirt and jeans. Much to my surprise I had a wonderful time. We made snow angels, threw snowballs at each other, and generally frolicked around.

When we got done I was energized and freezing but otherwise ready for the afternoon. It was at this point I found out there were Russian Deaf people at the camp. Through our travels in Russia we work with a group of hearing people, the local discovery staff. Generally they have connections in the hearing world. Many of the programs we run are with hearing people. They do make an effort to connect us with Deaf groups but they do not know the language well and this presents a problem. There is also the problem in their ability to organize and disseminate information I spoke of earlier. We were bothered by there being 60 deaf people at the camp, while we were running a program led by Deaf for hearing kids. Don’t get me wrong working with kids is rewarding but having deaf work with deaf, from other countries, is something a hearing person (myself included) can never fully appreciate. Perhaps it is their lack of comprehension in the enormity of the importance of such a deaf on deaf program, that creates the void of deaf groups in our programs. In the end we were not able to include the deaf group in our events. There was discussion of staying an extra day but the logistics never panned out for whatever reason.

The really awesome part is that Heather decided that this was very important to her. She made plans and contacts and arranged everything for herself. As we packed up in the evening of the second day she said good bye to us and stayed with the deaf Russians. I am both very nervous and very proud of her. I know she will be fine and will have a wonderful time there. This is actually a huge step for the group that we work with here. In Russia just as it was in the US several years ago, the deaf are oppressed. This often is not done out of malice but for a genuine concern for their well being. The hearing people have a view that deaf people are not capable of taking care of themselves and must be constantly accompanied by a hearing person to ensure their safety and well being. By Heather staying behind by herself she is helping to educate our friends over here that Deaf people really are capable of doing anything. Let me emphasize here that our hearing friends are acting with only the best intentions. Unfortunately there is a saying about a road being paved with good intentions, perhaps you have heard of it. If you are interested in where I am getting these crazy ideas from, then read the book “The Mask of Benevolence” by Harlan Lane. Harlan explains this concept very eloquently, much better than I could do in a blog.

After the programs we made our way back to Moscow, sans Heather, and to bed. It is now New Years Eve and a very important holiday in Russia. I have spent too much time typing this up and it is time for me to wrap up. I will be going out tonight with friends and having a wonderful time. I will try to get some photos and video for you to see. In the mean time I hope you now have a better understanding of what it is we do here.

Dana

We are here in Russia at last!!

As is custom with me I slept very little the night before we departed. I am not sure if this is due to the excitement of the upcoming adventure or because I seem to fail to get everything together until moments before we must leave for the airport. Regardless of my reasoning this has become somewhat of a tradition on my part. I guess my ability to sleep on airplanes could in some way be attributed to my severe lack of sleep preceding the flights.

This pretty clearly describes my experience while flying, on this trip or any other. I navigate my way through the check in process, security, and boarding the plane all in a daze of confusion, insomnia is the best drug ever. Then I vaguely remember sitting down in the seat, they all look the same after a time, and my pillow comes out as my eyes close. Occasionally I have a pesky stewardess who decides it is her personal mission to ensure my compliance with aviation regulations. In this case sleep is often interrupted by a reminded to buckle up or confirm my music player is turned off. I always assure the annoyingly helpful lady that I am in full compliance, which is often a blatant lie.

Several transfers and flights later we arrived in Moscow. As we walked off the plane I was greeted by familiar sights from last year’s customs experience. It sort of felt like visiting a dear friend whom you never seem to get the chance to visit. I spent some time reminiscing on our trip last year. On that trip we had met up with Jean and the rest of the discovery staff in Amsterdam. At that time we were with familiar people on a new and exciting adventure. I had no idea who we would meet and what that experience would entail. In short I was scared out of my mind. I knew almost nothing about Russian people. Last year was an experience so wonderful it would take days for me to describe all the wonders in both people and places we were privileged to be a part of. On the last trip I made friends that have remained very dear to my heart, the kind that when you close your eyes and smile it is their faces you see in front of you smiling back. As I write this now I feel a twinge of guilt in not maintaining a more in depth correspondence with them. Little do they know that a minimal amount of communication from me is a HUGE indication of how much I value them. I am a person of few words when I am not physically in front of you, except of course when posting online. If I actually take the time to send a note or chat online it is an indication of how much I care. On this trip we had not met up with the discovery group, we had in fact arrived slightly before them.

I was not sure who would meet us at the airport but I did know that person would be a friend. We made it through customs uneventfully. As we rounded the corner we were greeted by a smiling face and a very welcome warm hug from Macktie the second in command of the local discovery program. We waited only a short time for Jean to arrive with the rest of the group. This year we have Sean, Sarah (this is her second trip as well), Mitch, Heather, Jean, and myself visiting from the States. We made our way around the airport to the new train to take us into the city center of Moscow. I was jet lagged but I refused to admit it as attempted to maintain a conversation with my friends from Gallaudet University.

I spent some time explaining to Mitch and Sean the importance of exchanging money early in your trip. I always try to arrive in a new country with at least a small amount of local currency in my pocket. When I arrive I like to hit the ATM up for some more money. I get a decent exchange rate and I am 99% sure I will not get taken advantage of from the ATM. As of this message, to the best of my knowledge, Sean and Mitch still have not made it to the ATM machine.

After the train ride we met up with some more friends. Heather and I departed from the main group at this point. Sean, Mitch and Sarah were to stay with Vitya and his family while Heather and I were to stay with Maria (Maha, Masha, she has many nick names). She is one of those people I felt I made a very real connection to last year and I was looking forward to spending time with her this year. This of course is an easy task as we are living at her house right now. She reminds me of my cousins Tania, Sandra, and Elisa back in Illinois. We were at Maria’s house around 1 PM local time. Heather almost immediately fell asleep. I was still in denial of my jet lag and decided to annoy Maria with some mindless prattle. I am not entirely sure if anything I said actually made sense on any level. I do distinctly remember being unable to focus on a single task for any significant amount of time. I must have been very difficult to follow but thankfully she endured and I at least had a pleasant time. We spent part of the time there making soap. I have never done this before but it is similar to so many arts and crafts I have been involved in, the task was not a difficult one. There is a double boiler and some pre made soap blocks. Stuff gets melted, scents are added, oils are added, everything gets poured into a mold, and then set out to cool. It was an interesting experience and one of those things that cannot be planned and will always be remembered.

Another friend of mine happened to be in tow visiting her sister. I had been in contact with her via text message for some time before I left. I decided to get a hold of her and see if she wanted to go out tonight after everyone had slept. She accepted and I began making plans for us to met here then head out to someplace for some fun. I took a walk to familiarize myself with the neighborhood, with Maria accompanying me. Do keep in mind that this is Moscow in the middle of winter, but South Dakota was colder. I found all the local metro stops and relayed that information to Christina. In a short time I returned to the cold to meet Christina at the Metro stop. Not long after that, the rest of the group joined us and we all headed out to Red Square to look for trouble/fun.

I was starving at this point and decided to get some pizza to eat. I was still in denial of being Jet lagged and I had not yet slept. While we were eating Pizza I was having a conversation with Sarah. I remember my hands moving and then there was nothing but blackness for some time. When I came back to awareness the conversation was still going on. According to my friends my eyes were open the entire time and I appeared awake and alert. I even contributed some things to the conversation. It was a good nap at least for me, perhaps this is how the politicians make so many interesting decisions in their careers. It was at this point I remember Maria teaching me a song in Russian (I have it typed on my phone). I believe for most of the song I was not actually awake. I will have to review it when I am more alert.

The group decided to head back towards home at this point but I was more awake after my nap and willing to stay out longer. Thankfully Christina was in the mood for some fun. The whole group headed over to an area with a band, dancing, and ice sculptures. We spent about an hour dancing in the square with people. I had my video camera with me and I will post some footage when I get a chance to.

We meandered our way home at about 11:30 PM. On the way back we dropped off Christina at the Metro and sent her back to her sister’s place. The group got back to Maria’s place where she was finishing up her homework. The rest of the gang got a ride from Vitya back to his place and I finally got my ride to dream land via the bed. We went to sleep at Midnight and woke up at 4:45 am to make a 6:45 appointment. My alarm was set for 5:30 but my body felt differently, I guess, I will have to have a talk with my body later on when I am more coherent.

Heather tried unsuccessfully to operate the shower here. She resorted to a washcloth and the sink. I found this a bit more amusing than she did. I have traveled enough and seen enough showers that I was able to navigate the controls and exit the bathroom clean and refreshed. I did explain the process to Heather for the next time she showers. We headed out to the metro to meet up with the rest of the group at the basement theater and catch a train to some town in the country.

My Luggage

This is all I am bringing for month in Russia.

What to Bring for a Month in a Russian Winter

T’was the night before Russia and all through the house…

I was running around trying to get my stuff organized. OK actually I am pretty much there I just have a few more things to fit into my bags. I spent a few days in South Dakota with Family for the holidays. Now we are getting organized and packing our stuff all back up to get it all to Russia. The one thing I have not done is get that special travel insurance. I plan on doing that on one of the many layovers tomorrow on the flight out.

Just so you get an idea of what we are bringing with for a month away from home in the freezing winter I will make a list of the stuff we are bringing.

Clothes

-Pants x3 one pair of jeans and two travel pants
-Shirts x4 Cotton discovery labeled shirts
-under armor thermals tops and bottoms x 2
-Patagonia thermals full set x 2
-Jackets x2 one Wool and one thin biking jacket (not water proof)
-Fleece pullover x 1
-Socks x 6 three wicking layer three thick wool
- Shorts x 1 board shorts
-boxers x 4
- T-shirt x 1 Gallaudet long sleeve cotton
-Gloves x 2 one mitten for snowboarding, one wool with fold away finger mitts
-hiking boots
-running shoes, socks, and shorts
-Beanie hat x 2

Toiletries all liquids are less than 3.5 ounces

-electric razor
-toothbrush
-chap Stick
-shampoo and conditioner
-toothpaste
- Hair Gel, I want to look nice after all
-hair brush
-extra hair ties
-Listerine
-shower gel
-baby powder
-deodorant stick

Other stuff

-laptop computer
-video camera with 3 extra tapes
-wires x 6 surge protector, mini usb, iPhone charger, laptop plug, video camera cable, and Ethernet
-iPhone and headphones
-Paper journal book
-passport
-Two wallets
-cash, travelers cheques, and credit cards (stored in various places throughout my bags
-sunglasses x 2
-plug adaptors (only the plugs as all of my electronics will work on Russian currency as well)
-waterproof bag (for dirty clothes)
-Two small books
-inflatable pillow
-First aide kit


That is about it. All of this stuff fits into two carryon bags. One larger bag is for the over head compartment and one small backpack. Heather is carrying about the same amount of clothing. She has an additional 2 books on learning Russian. When I get everything packed I will upload some photos to this post so you can see just what I am talking about.

As for my packing techniques I have found that getting rid of those organizers allows me to bring many more things. I also make copies of all my credit cards front and back and my passport and visas as well. Everything is kept in separate locations throughout my bags in little zippers or hidden in the pages of a book. This way if anything is stolen or lost I am not stuck in another country helpless.

Other than that I have one more thing I always pack and it is the most important item of all. In fact I have been on adventures with only this last item and had a marvelous time. At this point you should know what the one last thing is. If you do not then I cannot teach it. Just get out of the house and travel and you will figure this one out all on your own. See if you can figure it out. Leave comments with your guesses.

Back On Track

Well folks it looks like it is that time of year again. For those jumping to conclusion types let me just say, no I am not talking about the holidays. It is travel time. I have been back stateside for a few months now. I would love to tell you of all the adventures I have had while being back at home. It is sad to say I have not been doing many adventurous things in my time here. I guess a little perspective is in order.

When I was out practicing minimalist camping with my brother and my wife for Thanksgiving I made a comment to my brother that I felt like an imposter. Like I was not a real backpacker and I was only faking it. He then pointed out that I was in the desert with only a hip pack for supplies and a camelback bladder bag with water to last me for three days. Given that I was sleeping only in an emergency blanket in the pouring rain and cooking on a small alcohol stove this seemed pretty real to him. My brother asked me what my view of a “real” camper would look like and how that differs from what I am doing. I think the difference is the internal component. I have this view that the people I see doing these fun and extreme things have a vast amount of internal knowledge. I often find that I am as well if not better informed than my counterparts. So what would alleviate my faker feelings? The answer my friends, has recently found me. The name for it is “inner game”. I need to believe I am the real thing and then I will be what I believe.

As for any exciting things that have happened in my typing hiatus; to me they do not seem exciting. My inner game is to demanding for that. Little things like commuting 32 miles, each way, by bicycle to work and getting hit by a car, mean little to me. Thankfully now I am back on track with my adventures around the world. I so enjoyed making the videos in Italy of my friends signing, I will be doing the same thing soon in another country. In case you have not yet figured it out I am about to travel again.

I actually have many travels planned for next year. But I will only talk about the ones coming up now. First stop is South Dakota. It is a family thing of course. But after that is Russia, Russia, and more Russia. I will be there for about a month. I work with the Gallaudet University Personal Discovery Program, teaching leadership skills and personal development workshops. We will have some hearing groups and some deaf groups. I am looking forward to documenting the conversations we will have with deaf Russians and how the communication develops. I will take a qualitative approach to my research. My goal here is to identify what makes communication possible between fluent sign language users of different countries. I leave home on December 21. Look for more info around that time.

Dana on the goGoGO!!

In reply to the mean person who left a comment

The following post in reply to the offensive person who left a comment on my blog.
Their comment is included at the end of the blog for you to read as well.

To anonymous I am going to assume you are from Germany because my last post was agreeably offensive to some Germans. I would like to begin with the accusation of cowardice. According to the Random House Dictionary a coward is:”a person who lacks courage in facing danger, difficulty, opposition, pain, etc.; a timid or easily intimidated person.” To accuse an entire nation of cowardice is a little narrow minded. Considering the accomplishments some people in the country have made. I would like to narrow down your accusation to a specific accusation of cowardice on my part.

In this Blog I do not write what is terrible interesting or make up the things that have happened to me. Instead I reveal the world as I see events transpire in front of me. Not only to do I recount the events but I take the time to explore my own feelings and emotions with each encounter. I then take this information, and bear my soul to the internet community. My name is on the blog and so is my face. I explain my perspective and my motivations behind them. That does not to me seem to be the act of a coward.

On the other hand you are an individual who feels the need to berate and insult an entire nation without explanation or justification. You rant and rave as a cock to the hens; however you never even have the courage to sign your name to a post. You sir or madam I say are a coward to the most extreme. You are the person who insults your own nation by misquoting historical facts that even a simple person such as me can easily research and find your mistakes.

I was going to spend my time rebutting the fact that the US has never lost a major war ever! This is information directly form a historian and a Marine. I decided that the readers of my blog can do the research themselves and discover the truth if it is important to them. Suffice it to say your arguments are weak and lack and foundation. Your accusations of cowardice are over generalizing and merely a projection of your own lack of self worth.

As you say I am not welcome in Europe. In fact I have been very welcome in 99% of the places I have visited. In fact it is people like you who are narrow-minded and stuck in an old regime that cause strife and discord between nations. I suggest to you that you let go of whatever hatred you hold in your soul and learn to accept that we are all the same and all belong to a global community now. The lines between nations are become blurred as well they should. It will not be too distant in the future when people with your mindset are obsolete and place in a nursing home to live out the remainder of your miserable existence. I pity you and if ever you would like to meet I would relish the opportunity to share with you the wonderful thing we can do together rather than fighting apart.

Anonymous said...
you sounds arrogant while travelling in germany. i believe you don't aware about the US over the wars in the past. Do you know that your government never told you how many the US lost the wars. The US lost more wars against countries in Vietnam, Spanish-Cuba war, South America and Central America etc. if you don't want to know more about history. You believe in the US is a strong, powerful country. not in case at all. The US didn't signed on with United Nations which the US is charged with war crimes for killing peasant people in Central America, the government still killing people in Iraq. Still gone away with it. America is the land of cowards!!
August 18, 2008 1:33 PM

Anonymous said...
you sounds arrogant toward to the German cop on the train.
You are a proud american twat. i don't think your government never told you the fact about American history of the war. the US lost the wars than other countries lost the wars. Lost against Vietnam, The Korea war, Spanish-Cuban war, South America and Central America. still on war with Iraq for nothing but oil! The US never signed with United Nation. If the US signed, The US would be charged for war crimes for killing civilians. The US is gone away with murder.
we see the US is the land of the cowards!! have safe journey home back to the US. you´re not wanted here in Europe.

I was almost arrested in Germany and I slept on the street in Copenhagen

As I am typing this I am sitting on the deck of the ms Rotterdam safe and sound with a room and food. Just wanted to get that out of the way before I tell you of my trip to Copenhagen so there will not be any worrying throughout your reading. Are you intrigued now? I hope so.

The train ride started on Aug 7 at 5 PM but I would like to recap what I did on the day of Aug 7th. That was the day we made that grueling hike through some seaside mountain range on an Italian nature preserve. It pushed me to limits I was not away I had. That being said, I showered and changed and hoped on a train at 5 pm heading to, well heading to a lot of places before arriving in Copenhagen. Here is a breakdown of the stops I had to make on my way.

Seaside village that has some name but I could not tell you what, other than it is 2 stops from Carlo’s town and three stops from where I needed to transfer. (45 minute train ride)
Transfer at Genoa Piazza Principal to a train to Milano wait time is 3 hours train ride is 2 hours.
In Milano take a commuter train to Verona (3 hours) Arrive in Verona at 10:30 PM leave at 1 am
Verona to Munich from 1 AM to 6:30 am.
Munich to Hamburg from noon to 6 pm
Hamburg to Copenhagen from 7 pm to 12:11 AM.
After all was said and done I had traveled by train for pretty much 31 hours straight. The first part of the trip did not bode well. As I arrived in Genoa I went to the information station and asked how I can get on a train to Milano. They told me to go to track number 14 and the train would leave in a few minutes. On the train to Milano I immediately noticed something was wrong. All the seats were in cabins and they all had numbers assigned to them. I knew this was a train that required a reservation. I wish the ladies at the information desk had told me this. At this point it was too late to go back to the station and buy a reservation. I had read in my Eurail guide book that you can always purchase a reservation from the conductor on the train. The down side is the cost increases when you have to go through a conductor. As I did not have a choice I went in search of the guy. I found him all the way in the front of the train. I asked him where I should sit if I did not have a ticket. I think this guy must be the only train conductor I have met on my entire trip that does not know a word of English. I know it is very ethnocentric of me to assume he would know English however as an official representative of an international rail system where a great many customers are tourists that speak only English as a common language I do have a higher expectation that the conductor would know some English. As luck would have it not only did he not know English but he took this as an opportunity to educate me in the use of the Italian railway system. He spent the next 25 minutes balling me out and drawing pictures in the air explaining that I needed a reservation on certain trains and not on others when using a Eurail pass. All of this I of course already knew but I sat there patiently until he got to the part where I had to pay. He must have tired of berating me when he eventually came up with a price. It was 5 Euros for the reservation and 8 Euros for the privilege of his chastising me. All together 13 Euros; bummer for me I guess but, at least I was on my way out of this nightmare train place.

I arrived in Milano with enough time to grab a bite to eat across the street and get ready for my next trip in several hours. I did attempt one more time to find a more direct route to Copenhagen. I received similar hospitality at the ticket window. One thing the rude dude said that I loved, when I asked if there was a more direct route was, “if you want direct take a plane this is the train station”. I returned the favor of his kindness by interrupting him in mid sentence with “whatever, moron I’m outta here” I said this as I turned and walked away. He never did get my name I was careful about this because I had a feeling it would turn out as it did. Maybe this was a self fulfilling prophecy; I guess I will never know.

When I arrived in Verona I was just in time to watch the cleaning staff close everything in the train station. This includes the doors to get outside the station. If you wanted to leave you had to walk down the tracks for several hundred yards and go through a broken section of fence. This did not matter much to me as I needed to be inside the station to catch my next train at 1 am into Muchien (Munich). The one problem I had was I really needed a restroom. Thankfully I was able to rely upon my experience on my bicycling trip. Those of you who have read the lessons learned in http://www.bike4d.org know that “the world is my toilet”. I did have a nice conversation with a jewel exporter from India. The guy was totally nice to me. He was waiting for a ride from a friend back home. His train decided to skip his stop so he was stuck 30km from where he should have been and was forced to wait for his ride. After he left the train was no long in coming.

At this point it was 1 in the morning and I was exhausted. You may also remember that I was not able to get a sleeping car on this train, nor was I able to get first class. The only seat available to me was a second class seat in some cabin. I was not looking forward to this. I have learned to look at the doors on the trains as they approach to catch what coach number is assigned to each one. That way I know if I need to race to the left or the right to get on the correct coach. This time I did not see my train number so I showed my ticket to one of the workers. He told me to head all the way to the right. This was not a long train stop so I really had to hurry. As I reached the end of the train NONE of them had my number on the door. ARG!! I ran bag and all back towards the front. They blew the whistle for all aboard and after double checking that the marquee confirmed this was the correct train, I hopped on. Now I was stuck in a very HOT very crowded train with a huge pack on. I reached a traffic jam in the hall way and just stopped. It seemed that everyone was comfortable just sitting or standing in the aisles and there was no way to get past. I struck up a conversation with a guy in front of me after he said something in English. Turns out he was from Richmond, VA and was in the military for only a few more months. He is currently stationed some place in Germany. Another train lady passed me by and I had to actually block her path to have her respond to my requests for assistance.

We danced back and forth for a while before she realized she would have to acknowledge me before I would let her pass. Then she looked up. I showed her my ticket and she pointed forward through the masses. Questioning I looked at her, then the mass of people, then at my bag. She gestured that I could not stay there and actually shoved me forward a little through the people, well more like into the people. Thankfully I was friends with the Army dude in front of me and he stopped me before I toppled over any other people.

I decided to take some action here because I really wanted to put my pack away and sit down. I dropped my heavy pack and put my smaller back pack on my back. I then hefted the larger one above the heads of the crowd and took a deep breath. In my loud most American voice I could muster I started saying “excuse me”, “Coming through”, and “move now! Thanks”. The crowd either parted or I forced them into the wall and made my way past. I think I perhaps did not represent my country very well but I did get past the throng of people and into my train car. I made it to my cabin and I think I must have been in with some sort of reptiles.

These guys kept the windows closed tightly and the curtains drawn so that the room was a sauna. I tried napping and I could hardly breathe in there let alone fall asleep. I stepped out into the cool hallway and noticed several other people sleeping in the corridor. In the words of Ronald Weasly I thought this was “brilliant”. I laid my bag down as a pillow and fell fast asleep. My next waking moment was of the conductor asking for tickets. I showed mine and fell asleep again. At some point we must have crossed into Germany because the next thing I remember was some guy kicking my bag yelling at me in German. I was annoyed and probably looked worse. I glanced back and said “WHAT?” He yelled more in German and I rolled over and closed my eyes. Not a good way to make friends by the way. He kicked my bag again and I propped myself on my elbow and said “What do you?” The guy was dressed in wrinkled pants and a t-shirt with another unbuttoned short overtop with a flower print on it. The only thing about him that looked semi official was his two way radio. He switched to English and said “Police give me your passport”. I grinned because I am not an idiot and replied “yeah sure, whatever man” and started to pick up my bag and move away from him. He repeated himself in English again and I backed away further. Then he opened the cabin next to me and said it in German and produced some green card. The occupants in the cabin all responded immediately with their passports. Oops. Turns out the guy really was a cop, my bad. He ordered me again to produce a passport (he kind of reminded me of the Nazi guys in the concentration camps in the movies) this time I replied for fear of getting locked away and sent to some unknown jail. He radioed in my name; this was different than anyone else he had spoken to. Then he asks in a not so polite manner if in my country people slept on the floors of trains as I was. Trying to be diplomatic I restrained myself from say “no in my country we make sure people have seats in air conditioned and comfortable cabins so they don’t need to sleep on the floor”. Again I did not say that. Instead I explained that my cabin was very hot and I was very tired and that was my only option for sleep. To which he replied “well then perhaps you had better stay in your own country and not travel in mine. I hope you leave Germany very soon” He handed back my passport and I partially saluted him as Nazis do as I walked past I mumbled “hey man in case you forgot, you lost the war”. I returned to my cabin before he cold respond, thankful to not be in jail and pissed off at the poorly dressed cop. The remainder of the trip to Munich was uneventful.

In Munich I was too tired to really do anything but sit for my 6 hour layover. I found a nice coffee shop attached to the train station and plugged into power to charge up and edit video. Most of the video you are seeing pop up here now was edited in that coffee shop in Munich, some was even filmed there.

My trip from Munich to Hamburg was pleasantly uneventful. I was able to rest and relax and really not do much of anything for 6 hours. After Hamburg I switched trains and headed to Copenhagen. The train I got on was so small and quaint. It was only three cars long and had a funny stub nosed front. The first class section was only half of the first car. Of course I grabbed a seat in first class because that is what my Eurail pass includes.

One of my neighbors on the train was a transplant from southern England and a pretty nice guy. The other was a native of Copenhagen but he spoke English fluently. We did not talk too much but rather exchanged courtesies over the tea and milk. I spent some time studying the travel book I have on Copenhagen, not because I wanted to visit the city but to find out where the cruise ships might be docked. This was the first city I have been to where I had no place to stay and no idea where I was supposed to go.

This is the city where I needed to hop on the cruise ship to start my interpreting work for twelve days. I knew the name of the ship I needed to be on and the date. That was about it. My friends on the train gave me directions on where the cruise ships should be docked. Basically they told me to leave the station turn left and keep walking for about an hour. They were not very confident but it was the only thing I had to go off of. So I hefted my rather large pack and headed off to the left. I passed through a pretty happening part of town with lots of lights and plenty of drunken people. I really longed to go and join in the revelry but I was on my way to an assignment and I would not miss the boat in the morning.

I walked for about an hour and at this point I was in a part of town that seemed to be utterly asleep. Keep in mind I arrived in Copenhagen at 12:11 in the morning. That is pretty much rock solid in the middle of the night. It was now 1 AM and I was hopefully closer to the cruise ships but I could not even see water. I had noticed the number 26 bus along the route I was walking. This at least allowed me safe passage back to the city I the morning when the busses opened. I felt pretty lost and lone and I was prepared to text home and get directions when I discovered my phone battery had died. My backup battery was not working and there was not a plug to be found anywhere.

At this point I felt pretty helpless and I was not sure what to do. I had been traveling for 31 hours and I had not slept in about 48 hours. I was exhausted, alone, and I had no way to contact anyone. I sat down on a rock at a corner and tried to contain my emotions. I did have the sense of mind to hit an ATM up on my way out of the bar district so at least I had some local currency. I was thankful for this when a taxi pulled up out of nowhere. The guy knew a little English and I had the Danish word for cruise ships on an index card. Unfortunately I also had the name of a local harbor on there as well. The taxi driver just stopped listening to me and took me to the harbor name on the card. The place was completely closed but at least I could see water and there was a tourist information store right there. I paid him and he left me in the middle of nowhere at 1:30 in the morning.

I had nothing to do now but just wait for the sun to come up because I had no watch to tell the time with. I found a corner at the bottom of some stairs that afforded me some protection from the wind. I curled up and fell into a fitful sleep on the street. I froze my but off and did everything short of using my sleeping bag to keep warm. It may have been the worst night’s sleep I have ever had in my life.

Finally the sun came up the stupid tourist shop never opened but my friend Bus number 26 was right there in front of me. I gave up and decided to take the bus back into town and ask people where the stupid ships come in. The driver was nice enough to tell me where the central station stop was (the second time we passed it he told me, it was a rather long bus ride). I found a tourist info center that was open. I explained I needed to get to my ship and they gave me directions.

Guess which buss I hopped on, that right the number 26. Turns out when I took that cab I was pretty close to the cruise terminal. I only had to walk another 15 minutes or so until I reached to correct place. I saw my ship and I was relieved to not have missed it. I was also very much looking forward to sleeping in a real bed and taking a long, long, long hot shower. I made it on board and met up with my team interpreter Roy.

One last thing before I finish up here. Roy had sent me an email about Copenhagen. I had not been able to get online for many days at this point so I had not received the email. Turns out he had arrived in Copenhagen a few days earlier. He had a very comfortable hotel room right next to the train station. He very graciously invited me to stay in the room since he knew I was arriving at midnight. Hmm bummer for me but it is something to laugh over I guess.

This is a video message for Sara Kauntz feel free to look for yourself

This is a Message for Sarah Kauntz so if you see her tell her to watch it.

This is a test of how many signs I can remember in Italian Sign Language

Here is it folks almost everything i know about Italian Sign Language. I actually remember a few moe signs but I did not have the motivation to include them here after the video was done. Maybe later.

Includes some Italian Sign Language; A very difficult Hike in Italy with some beautiful vistas

Here I m hiking with my new found friends in Italy. Some of the video is in ILS and some in ASL. See if you can understand.

Want to see some Italian Sign Language

Here I am meeting some new friends they are signing in Italian Sign Langauge but my intro is in ASL



Transcript (by Heather):
Dana: Hello, I'm here tonight with friends of Carlo's. We are at Lele (boy) and Ethel's (girl) house, they are dating. Anyway, all night--other people too, Chris, Charlo, etc, many people here. They will introduce themselves, but they won't use ASL, they will use Italian Sign Language. Anyway, we all sat at the table and ate focaccia, and a round thing, not quite pizza, but pizzita?, it's a small square thing with toppings, it was delicious. We also had beer and chatted. We also had, not ice cream, but gelato. We'll have everyone introduce themselves, but the names will be in Italian Sign Language, so you'll have to figure it out for yourselves. The fingerspelling is similar to ASL, you will be able to recognize some letters.
Guy in red shirt: (Italian Sign Language)
Girl in red and white striped shirt: (Italian Sign Language)
Girl in black shirt: (Italian Sign Language)
Girl in pink shirt: (Italian Sign Language)
Guy in white shirt: (Italian Sign Language)
Dana: Ok, you finally met them all, and it's back to ASL again. Anyway, I'm finished videotaping, and I'm going back to partying, chatting, and having fun. See you later.
Oops, I forgot one person, the cameraman, Carlo. Stupid me, ready to say hello to Carlo?
Carlo: You don't have to videotape me! Hello, my name is Carlo, nice to meet you. I hope to meet you soon. Come on over to Italy and have fun here!
Dana: Now we're finished, bye.

Ok here it is me facing down a charging Bull... No Fear No Fear No Fear... Did i just pee myself?

Here I am facing a charging bull. I Hope you appreciate me getting this footage for you.

Dude I totally learned some Italian Sign Language

Carlo arranged for me to meet some of his friends (all deaf) and eat some traditional Foccacia bread and pizziata. We hitched a ride with one of his friends and headed down the coast to a beautiful little seaside village where a couple lived.

We spent the evening chatting and getting to know each other. Carlo is fluent in ASL so until this point I had not been exposed to ILS at all. This was sort of a crash course for me. In the car ride there I learned a few words and the alphabet. As the evening progressed we were better able to communicate with each other. This is a phenomena that as far as I know is unique to sign language users. You can meet a group and you can establish a communication base including some signs and some gestures that allow you to have a full and meaningful conversation. I have a theory that this processes is quickened if the sign languages have a familial relations such as ASL, LSF (French), ILS (Italian), and Russian Sign Language. Perhaps the process may take a bit longer if one were to communicate with a person from Japan or Korea, but I do not yet know.

I had a wonderful time laughing and joking and just getting to know all the people there. I have some video footage of the evening so you will get a chance to see ILS and meet each person in the group. At some point in the evening we decided to bring all my stuff to this house where I would spend the night. The next morning four of us would go for what turned out to be a grueling hike through the Italian seaside mountains to a private beach resort.

After a great night’s sleep and an invigorating shower we headed out their front door and straight up the longest outdoor staircase I have ever seen. We hiked for about 5 hours. And I have plenty of pictures for you to enjoy. At one point near the end of the trek we had to climb a very steep hill with many switch backs. I was forced to admit I was in the worst shape of the group as I struggled to keep up. Keep up I did and I only fell once skinning my knee.

As we reached the end of the journey we were at a seaside resort that because of the nature preserve laws in this area was accessible only by boat or hiking. We rounded the final set of stairs and randomly ran into a deaf couple that the group knew. We chatted with them a bit then headed down to the beach for a swim. There was limited space to spread out on the small beach. As we were laying down our towels, another group of deaf people recognized Carlo and invited us to take their spot on the beach. Seems Genoa is a popular place for deaf people to just materialize. We swam, we laughed, we relaxed, and we for darn sure took the boat home; I was exhausted. The group I was with totally took care of me. They would not let me spend a dime and always made sure I had everything I needed. It was a marvelous and welcoming experience.

I had the opportunity to learn a few words in ILS and to film them introducing themselves. I will of course post that for your viewing enjoyment. As I am heading for the cruise ship now I may spend the money and get 24 hours of internet service just to upload the video footage I have. I think you will really enjoy it and I hope it makes you feels like you are on this journey with me.

If you ever decide to visit Italy I highly recommend it. Just make sure you know Carlo because he has made this part of my Europe trip the best and most memorable buy far. Thank you Carlo, and everyone who made my visit a wonderful one to Italy.

Visit Italy if only to meet Carlo he is an awesome guide

I am amazed at the wealth of knowledge Carlo has about his home town. Both current and historical data that I will never be able to do justice to. I will attempt to include as much as I can here without making this sound like a history lecture because as my friend Roy knows I am not a history buff in the least.

Carlo is a friend I met in Russia. We were both there working with the Gallaudet University Discovery program. After texting back and forth several times we were able to arrange my visit with him in his home town of Genoa, Italy. His summer vacation began the day I arrived, this was very convenient for both of us I believe. Carlo works with the government to help develop a deaf education program for art and personal development of Italy’s deaf youth. He also teaches Italian Sign Language and runs an exchange program with deaf people from other countries; this is an intense 6 week full immersion program to learn Italian Sign Language. Needless to say he is very skilled at introducing others to his language and culture in a manner that is both enjoyable and informative.

Perhaps in the future I will be able to convince Carlo to offer a program to allow Interpreters from around the world to have a full emersion program in ILS. Only time will tell. For now the program is exclusive to deaf people ad a cultural exchange program.

I learned how the EU had a convention there in 2001 and the heart of his city was fenced off to allow only official business. In addition the EU paid to have the area cleaned and beautified to allow the dignitaries to see Genoa in its full glory. This area is still very good condition after the restoration. He showed me a church that has only one tower. The second tower was destroyed during WWII when the allied forces bombed the church with a direct hit. The only reason the church remains today is because the bomb failed to explode. If you visit the church you can see and touch the actually ordinance on display. The Church looks unique with its single tower on the left hand side, almost as if it had a mammactomy.

I learned also of the History of Italian monarchy and how that affects its current architecture. In the past Italy was not a single country but rather independent regains each with their own rule. Genoa was no different with the several Dukes each jockeying for position as the controlling power in their region. In Genoa and perhaps other places in Italy the Ducal power could be judged by the size of the Duke’s…(no wait a minute here I don’t know what you are thinking here in relation to Italian men but just stop there. This is a true story and a history lesson so get your mind out of the gutter and look to the sky) The power can be measured by the size of the tower on top of his residence. They would play games with each other and knock down their neighbors towers to show their dominance. To this day there are only two towers left still standing. One of which belonged to the D’oria family, who was widely regarded as the ruling and most respected family.

When Genoa became a major hub for trade and travel the city began to fear invasion. It was Duke D’oria who secretly approached the Spaniards and made a deal with them which enabled Genoa to defend itself against would be invaders. You can still see the early warning system they established with forts on top of the tallest peaks looking out into the harbor and Mediterranean sea.
At the apex of the harbor the town boast having the first bank in Europe. An honor also boasted by Rome. This debate may never be resolved. Carlo Explained how the area was run down and not very safe only a few years ago. Turns out the USA wanted to hold a festival in Genoa as this was the origin of Christopher Columbus. Just a sort of thank you for our countries discovery kind of thing. In exchange for allowing us to have a festival in Genoa we paid to renovate the entire harbor area. It rather resembles many other boardwalk renovations I have seen in America with one exception. It just so happens a world class architect and designer was born and raised in Genoa (sorry I forgot his name). Because Genoa is his home town he donated his considerable talents to the harbor renovation. It is truly a work of art there and worth seeing. Two more things then I am done with the history stuff.

Genoa has a reputation for being cheap or frugal with their money expenditures. Carlo explained this after I asked why many of the buildings instead of having mason work decorating the front were mearly flat buildings with little or no stone work at all. This is in contrast to most other places I have seen in Europe. However the art work on the buildings gives a façade of masonry. This is artwork that would put Hollywood to shame. I attempted to capture some of this on film but the art is so well done that on film the masonry appears real. I guess it makes upkeep easy as you can just slap on another coat of paint instead of ordering new bricks.

Finally the bathrooms in Genoa are a great story. You can stop reading now if this stuff grosses you out. Seems the original designs in Genoa did not include toilet facilities at all. Not sure what they did before but, someone came up with a good idea of adding a shack to the outside of the wall suspended above the ground at whatever floor you lived on. This shack would have a seat with a hole in it that was open to the alley below. You would do your business and everything would fall hopefully to the dumpster thing below. You would urinate into a cistern and empty that separately. It was common practice to yell “PISS” from your window before dumping the cistern into the street below. This would allow passersby to scatter so as not to receive a golden shower. In later years pipes and tubes have been attached to allow for a more directed flow of human waste. Only the older un-renovated buildings still have those awkward shacks attached to the outside of the buildings (with modern pluming of course). Carlo at one time lived in such a place. How cool is that to know the history of the room you are taking a dump in.

That concluded the tour of the city. It was marvelous and beautiful while very educational. I have may pictures you will be able to see here as well as video footage just waiting to be uploaded.

Italy like a swift kick in the butt...get it cause it is shaped like a boot.

Don’t be disheartened by my introduction to Italy I had a wonderful time and I will go into some detail about that after I am done ranting and raving here. Do read on through or skip the part if you like where I describe some of the uncomfortable experiences I have had. In the end I will speak of my wonderful visit with Carlo and I highly recommend visiting Italy and meeting my friend Carlo.

Now, to get this off my chest I will describe the trains in Italy (or at least northern Italy where I have been). Do not take them. If you do decide to travel by train, then expect the worst customer service you have ever experienced. I was yelled at (fists pounding on the table yelling). I was ignored. Overall I was treated with mild to moderate distain by every train official I had the displeasure of dealing with.

You may remember the issues I had with getting to Copenhagen from Italy. Really the Issue was getting the stupid people at the train office to pull their heads out of their neither regions and learn to sell tickets! I was told I could resolve this matter in Italy. First thing I did in Italy was to go to the train station ticket office and attempt to purchase a ticket to Copenhagen. The first person I talked to heard the word Copenhagen and she simple replied “Milano” (a 2 hour train ride away). I attempted to continue to ask her and she turned her back on me and turned off the mic into her station. Carlo was with me at this point and he attempted to resolve the matter with the next guy over. He actually received the same treatment. “Milano” seemed to be the only word they knew in any language. I resolved myself to a wasted 4 – 8 hours on a train to get to Milano and back in order to purchase my train tickets. Needless to say I was not pleased but I did not have a choice. I spent the rest of the day with Carlo but I will get into that later for now let’s stay on topic with buying tickets to Copenhagen.

The next morning I woke up ate some breakfast and headed to the train station. Carlo had written down some schedules for me so I knew when and where I need to go. This was helpful. I made my way to Milano without difficulty, they never even asked for my ticket. The scenery here deserves an aside to describe what you may see from a train window in Italy.

The trains have graffiti all over them. I am not sure why these do not get cleaned up but they remain painted and tagged by less than skillful artists. Those that are not tagged are just old looking and not very well maintained. The view from the windows does not offer much in the way of compensation. If you are lucky enough to get a glimpse of the beach through the jungle of buildings, you are greeted by row upon row of umbrellas and Cafés. It seems that to get a place on the beach here you must pay for access to the café private beach. Most of the time you are looking at towering buildings that seem to have deferred maintenance from WWII. Where the walls are not pealing or crumbling they are covered in more of that graffiti evident on the trains. The interiors of the trains lack any semblance of care as the seats are torn and broken and the toilettes rarely work at all.

After that pleasant train ride to Milano (Sarcasm) I approached the ticket window and attempted to negotiate my journey to Copenhagen. The line (there is always a line in Milano, if the line dwindles then one or two people go on break to build it up again) took about 45 minutes to get through. As I reached the front my spirits were raised as I was next in line and a new clerk was coming on duty. I was pleased he would be fresh and willing to help (my mistake for setting my hopes so high). It only took about three minutes for me to explain that the speaker was not turned on and I could not hear a word he was saying. I can only assume he thought I could not understand him when in fact I could not hear him at all. Nor could I read the lips of an Italian speaking broken English with an accent. By the time he blasted my ear by simultaneously turning on the mic and screaming at me, he was in a foul mood. Twice during our conversation he actually slammed his fists onto the table causing the keyboard to jump an inch or two from the surface. This fast slamming was done in conjunction with several swear words and many names I cannot interpret but the meaning was all too clear.

He did end up selling me enough tickets to get me to Copenhagen on time for my cruise. I have several transfers and quite a few long layovers in inconvenient places and times. At least I know I will make it there, so long as I am able to stay awake for 48 hours straight and still catch my transfers. I am typing this in the middle of this marathon so I may not be totally coherent.

On my way back to Carlo’s town I bought a ticket to get a reserved seat and a quicker train. The cost was minimal. Normally as you leave a train station only one train leaves at a time. The trains are listed b time and by the terminal station on that trip. If you know one or the other it is not a problem finding the correct track for your train. I happen to get the one exception. There were two trains leaving at the same time from opposite sides of the station, and I did not know the terminal station for the train I was on. Like any travel savvy individual I sought out the information booth at the train tracks to ask for direction. The man there of course spoke only one language. He seemed to understand by my gestures that I needed to know what track my train was on. He just kept repeating one word like it was supposed to have special meaning for me and make it all clear. He kept saying Latviona. I told him several times I did not understand what that meant ( in Italian). Finally I resorted to the hateful thing of just standing there and holding up the entire line until he took the time to actually help me. He wrote down the number 16 on my ticket. This number corresponded to the other track leaving at 16:00. I thanked him and went on my way.

At one point on one of my train rides I had my feet up on the seat in front of me. The conductor walked up behind me and did not say a word he simply snapped a handkerchief against my bare ankles as he walked by. He did not even slow down as I moved my feet to massage the stinging sensation in my ankles.
One last incident on the train worth mentioning here then I will be done. On the way back to Milan o while I was leaving Carlo’s town I went in and asked information what train I needed to take to get to Milano. I asked if I needed a ticket and she said no and directed me to the proper train. As I boarded the train I immediately noticed something was wrong. All the seats were in cabins with assigned cabin and seat numbers. I went and asked the conductor what I should do. It seems that Italy it the only country in the European Union to hire monolingual employees. The guy only knew Italian and seemed non paused with talking incessantly to me even after I told him I did not understand. Eventually I was able to buy a seat from him for three times the normal fair and I had to listen to him chastise me for getting on the train without a ticket.

I think Carlo was very concerned my trip to Italy would be a disappointment or marred somehow by these negative experiences. In examining the things that happened to me in Italy the only negative experiences I had were in relation to dealing with train employees. I guess if the train cannot or will not maintain their equipment then the employee experiences must not be much better. These incidents only served to heighten the joy of visiting with Carlo and his friends.
More on that in the next post

New text or SMS number to contact me

Here is the new sms number this SIM is from Italy. My one from the UK ran out of money. You can call text or ... nope that is it you can cal or text me.

011 39 366 322 7871

This only works some of the time on the ship so send me a message and I will reply when i can

In the north of Europe they still use smoke signals

seems internet is a priviledge here that is hard to come by. I have a ton of stuff on my laptop that I cannot seem to get to you all on the interent. as soon as i gt a wifi connection or something I will upload it to the blog here. I am in a small country here called Estonia. Have you heard of it. I have not. after touring it all day on a guided tour there really is not much to the city Tallinn. If you have never been here, i reccomend continuing on with that trend. if you have been here then you know why there is no need to return.

They are fiercly proud of thier language and have passed laws to preseve their language. of course these laws only apply when they are not being occupied by some other country which seems to more the standard here rather than the exception. seems every other decade the country is either sold or concoured by someone else.

Enough of that. I will try to get online with my laptop and post some awesome videos and excellent pictures. Until then I am on a cruise ship for a while and each port of call I will make an attempt to get to a cafe and get my laptop online!!

I fianlly had my camera with me in Biarritz Check these out

I had Lunch here my final day In Biarritz. It was super yummy!!! Cute little outside Cafe as well.

This isa typical street heading down to the beach. Most of the streets here look similar to this in style. but not all roads lead to the beach here. Only the roads i travel on :)

Check out thses things at the beach. Pretty cool you can rent shade there.

This is the artist i was telling you about. I went and talked to him. He says he has been traveling around doing his art for 10 years now. He travels to a beach and builds something. Then he babysits the art for several days and lives off the money he collects. He was a totally cool guy. Smelled a bit, but hey he lives on beaches around the world. He showed me his portfolio and this one here does not do him justice. he does some amazing things. that is him laying down against the wall on the right.

Biarritz is a Beautiful city, Want to see it with me?

here is some video footage of my time in Biarritz

Paris (not Hilton) caught on film

My self guided tour of Paris

Meeting Sophie and Jean Philipe in Paris

This is the video footage I got before meeting them as well as some footage of the happy family.

Video Message about Frankfurt

Not much to see here since I never really had my camera with me while I was out and about.

Luxemburg is an absolutly beautiful city; see for yourself

This is me walking arround Luxemburg. Pretty cool city with a moat and everything.

Don't worry I did not need stiches

I was considering making stuff up for today because my day was so uneventful. In fact everyone I have spoken to today (almost) I have told a different story to. For you my faithful readers I will tell the truth because it is so much more interesting the things that happen in the world without effort (if anyone asks I was surfing all day and I am exhausted). So let’s begin near the end (thanks Quinton). Using my first aid kit, I removed the piece of glass from my foot. I have patched myself up and I can walk fairly normally. I expect a full recovery in an hour.

I was planning on going surfing today all day. Matt will be so disappointed to hear I was maybe 50 meters from some of the most beautiful waves and never even touched the water (sorry dude try not to cry mate). To be honest I really enjoyed the time sitting and contemplating the meaning of life (Monty Python just did not do it for me). Even my bus ride there ended up eventful but really only at the end of the day did the eventfulness come to fruition.

As I exited the bus I heard two young girls (maybe 18-19) talking in English asking where the beach was. I was feeling energetic and had just jumped to the top of a rather tall planter behind them on my way to the very beach they were looking for. I offered to lead them there. As they looked up at my wild hair blowing in the wind, standing on a planter, they declined with haste. I pegged them as two girls in college in a big city who both grew up in a small town (I was right by the way). They were obviously skeptical of strangers willing to help, yet they still had that wide eyed innocence about them. Good for them I thought, I may not have trusted me either, after looking in a mirror, I was a bit scary. We will come back to them later, several times actually.

I went to the beach and sat on a retaining wall scoping the sets and the rip tide. An artist was setting up a sculpture on the beach. He started with a strange circle separate from the mound he was to carve. On this circle he tightly placed a green cloth. This formed a sort of loose trampoline in the center of a small sand mound. At first I had no idea what this was for. The meaning became all to obvious at his sculpture progressed. He spent a lot of time pouring water into his mound to prepare it. Maybe 2 full hours of preparation time before the actual carving began. This methodic work got me to thinking about the drive of artists.

I think perhaps artist do not create because they want to, but maybe they do it because they have to. It is the creation of art that completes their purpose in life. As I watched him work very hard it was a face of resignation mixed with delight he wore permanently on each trek to the water. He seemed to work with a methodical maniacalism that can be seen in someone who accepts their purpose in life and has learned to enjoy the process. He seemed to be creating his art because deep in his soul he was driven to create not because it was a choice he made early in life to become an artist.

As his art began to take shape, of course he drew an audience. It was at this point the purpose of the green cloth became apparent. As the audience watched and enjoyed his work they showed their appreciation by donating to his work. The money was thrown on the green cloth. That is a pretty cool idea. I will have to try that one when I get home. Now all I need is to be born with the drive to create some sort of beach art. Hmm I think I may have missed that boat.

After watching the artist work for about 45 minutes I saw the two girls walk up the beach with their rather large packs still attached to them and sweat dripping from them as if they had just gone for a long run. I felt badly for them but at least they made it. Luckily they did not see me. I think if they had they might have kept walking and not been able to relax. They did set up a little area there and hunker down for a day in the sand.

Later in the afternoon I decided to go to the internet café and chat with Heather. Unfortunately my math skills were not up to par as I called her at 5:30 in the morning. After realizing my mistake I sent a message saying I would return in an hour after she was awake. I was famished at this point and wanted to eat. Turns out Biarritz is closed on Sunday unless you are very close to the beach. I was still walking bare foot at this point, which turns out to have been a big mistake. As I crossed the street I stepped on a perfectly shaped piece of glass. I say perfectly shaped because it was just the shape to enter my foot and not come out no matter how hard I tried.

As I sat there on the side walk wishing a pharmacy was open trying to luck the glass from my foot I felt sort of silly. I must say I do not enjoy bleeding al over the street of a strange city. With a medium sized piece of glass in your foot the blood seems to flow rather well, in case you are wondering. I had limited supplies with me at this point so there was not much I could do. I had to just accept the fact that I was going to have a piece of glass in my foot for the rest of the day until I could return to my first aide kit. I used my black spandex shirt to apply pressure to the hole. This kind of does not tickle, applying pressure to a piece of glass embedded in your foot. Of course I put my sandals on now. I had to walk sort of clawed foot to hold the hole closed. All in all it was not to terrible bad. I gave up looking for food and just headed back to the internet café. I spent some time sitting there contemplating my stupidity.

The thing with going bare foot is you have to build up to it. You have to walk around at home in safe place for a bit to build up the toughness of your feet. At this point you are ready to tackle glass and other obstacles without much worry. I think I jumped the gun here going shoeless so quickly. The pain is worth the reward though. With no shoes I feel free and liberated.

I completed my internet time and hobbled back to the bus station that would return me to within a mile of my hostel. I scoped a place open still serving food. I thought I would be safe with pizza. My pizza had olives with pits still in them and a raw egg right in the middles. That was interesting but not too terribly bad. I also had my first taste of wine there. It tasted a lot like wine to me not super exciting. Now I headed back to the bus stop and I saw the most amusing thing as I got comfortable along the wall.

Guess who was sitting next to me on the wall? That’s right those two girls were right there. Oh man I was so afraid they were going to think I was stalking them. I swear I was not. I figured at this point a conversation had to be started. I opened with “so did you two ever find your beach” like any good lawyer will tell you never ask a question you do not already know the answer to. I decided if they were honest I would continue if they lied I would leave them be. We ended up having a wonderful conversation. They are both from Newport Beach, CA which is very close to where I live. One of the girls grew up in a small town outside of San Diego, literally a 10 minute bike ride from my house. We talked of the our neighborhoods and our new neighborhoods. They are on the same train I am taking but they are leaving tonight I leave tomorrow night. As I exited the bus we said good bye and they waved energetically at me through the window. I hope in their travels they will have many more wonderful experiences. Perhaps I will run into them on the beach back in SoCal. I never did ask their names and it really does not matter as they are just friends for a moment. C’est La Vive.

Yes, I actually played tag with a raging bull. He is it.

Finally, I get to the mountains. Do not read this without reading the previous 3 posts, it will ruin the surprise. Now I am going to ruin it for you so read on if you are all caught up. We took the bus to a town called Bayonne. After that we were to catch a train to the mountain base and go for a walkabout. As I was on the bus, I noticed a bunch of guys dressed in white and red. Remember the stories about Pamplona, Spain and the running of the bulls? They were dressed like that. I thought it was odd that the French would still be celebrating that festival held in Spain a while ago. As I arrived in Bayonne, I realized that something else was going on here. Everyone was dressed in red and white (for some odd reason I was even wearing a white shirt and white hat). The streets were blocked off and the bus had to stop at a staging area (not the normal stop). After asking for directions, I quickly made my way to the train station while marveling at the entire town in party mode.

I arrived at the train and went to buy the ticket. I missed the noon train by 1 minute. Trains here are almost always on time. The next train was at 14:37 (2:37 pm) leaving only 2 hours of hiking before the return trip. I decided to stay and party.

Turns out this was the French version of running with the bulls. Instead of the stupid running part they just fast forward to the actually dangerous part where they release the raging bulls into a contained area with a bunch of morons trying to slap the bull and yank a horn. If you could see me now I am totally pointing at myself. I thought with age and maturity I would grow out of stuff like this. Turns out I was wrong.

After I figured out what was about to happen, this took a while as “raging bulls” and “tag” are outside of my French vocabulary expertise, I texted my friend Matt and told him what I was doing and where I was. I asked him to notify Heather if I did not contact him later that evening. He reply with a typical male jealousy remark and assured me she would be notified.

Then the bulls came out and as everyone ran away I just stood there and got up close and personal. I actually did watch a few people do their thing and I understood the process. Someone distracts the bull (someone more experienced than me or drunk) and then everyone else runs in and says “Howdy” to the bull. I watched a bunch of guys get pummeled and walked on it was awesome. I have pictures and I have video.

For the sake of my dedicated readers, I actually stood in front of a charging bull and did not move while filming it. Unfortunately, while I am actively peeing my pants, my camera aiming ability is not very adept. I will edit and post it later so keep an eye out for that, you will get enough of the shot I believe to understand where I was and what I was doing. I was not injured in any way and I had a blast.

I once had a woman tell me that while I was growing up she would not allow her children to play with me. Her reasoning was that she saw what I was doing and she was afraid her children would try to do the same thing, and they would die. She also told me she was amazed I am still alive. Frankly, I agree with you Chris, but hey I am still living life and loving it!!!

Lates mates, I’m hittin’ the surf all day tmw.

Dude, I am totally stoked to be here.

This must be about my second day in Biarritz, I think. I will blend it in with my fourth day because that way I can put off talking about the mountains a bit longer. Did you forget the cliff hanger? I am happy to remind you.

I headed to beach on foot armed only with a couple of credit cards in my zippered pocket. No bag or anything else to distract me from the ocean. Chelsea walked with me. Made it to the beach and I barely contained my giddy little yelp as I saw the first wave. Oh by golly that place is swell. I spent the next four hours just playing in the surf and walking around scoping the spots for the next time I would be at the ocean.

On the very long walk home I did regret not having my camera so you to could enjoy the simple beauty of this city. I bought some sandals along the way so I did not look like a kook in shoes. I stopped off at a local store and refilled my belly with yogurt, banana, and bread. Yummy! I asked for directions in French and the guy gave me really complex directions with several turns and street names. I totally understood him. Go me. Funny, the whole way back I kept passing these bus stops for the number 2 bus. In fact, all the way back to the last turn to the hostel, I passed those bus stops and the bus passed me several times. Guess which bus I took back to the beach the next time I went. If you guessed number 2 bus, you sir or madam would be absolutely, positively, most undeniably (I really like dragging this on here) wrong.

Today I went to the train station to get my ticket to see Carlo in Italy on Tuesday. I spent several hours at the ticket window trying to get a ticket from Carlo’s place to Copenhagen where I need to be Aug 9th. Turns out there are no seats on any trains that he is allowed to sell me. Something about him having limited access to trains because he is in a small town. I will resolve it in Milano in Italy when I get there.

I asked the tourist office at the train station and she said to take the beach bus. It stops at all the major beaches in the area. I bought myself a 5pass ticket and headed off. The next four hours at the beach involve renting a surfboard and surfing, surfing, surfing, surfing, surfing, etc. It is all a blur now but I remember the smile slowly creep across my face as I stood on my first wave. Then it seems that kind of thing really can get stuck there if you do it enough. As I type right now about my session today I am still smiling. If you have never surfed, get a board and do it. The joy will drill deep into your soul and sustain you though any imaginable difficult time.

Funny thing about having sandals with me all day, I reverted back to my San Diego days and I never once put them on. I did carry them with me all day though just in case I felt like wearing them. HEHE I love it. I am a bit burnt but nothing major. I had plenty of sun block and it seems to have worked well for me. Tomorrow I am out at a different spot and more surfing all day longgggggggggggg

Don’t bug me I am totally stoked.

Some things I have learned traveling. I guess this is more tips and tidbits.

I have traveled to 5 different countries on this voyage. I have attempted to talk to people and make friends. I have had a problem just communicating with many people. With those I have been able to communicate with there is an underlying theme in the conversation. In my experience, people do not like Americans (by that I mean from the US).

Statements like this are normally followed by some explanation that those who travel outside of the US seem pretty cool. Translated; they do not like us for what we do to the rest of the world, but on a personal level some of us are ok. The problem is, those of us they actually meet are fairly open-minded; those of us that live and die in the states are not so open-minded. Don’t get me wrong here, I Love the United States of America. I love the opportunities and the freedom I have there. I love the technology and the consistency I can receive anywhere in the US. Even BFE USA is still close to help when needed.

I have a theory that I tell anyone who will listen to me. I have used it in my life many many times and it has never failed me in my own self analysis and personal discovery. My theory is this “If you think everyone around you has a problem; it is probably not they who have the problem.” The USA is there for sure. We sit in our comfortable little country doing our thing and working hard to earn more money so we can go get in more debt and buy more stuff. That way we can waste more products, burn more gas, and do our part in destroying the Earth and our relationships with those that we share the Earth with. I am by no means a tree hugger. If you get a chance, read my description of my relationship with nature at http://www.myspace.com/danaarazi. it is an eye opening experience and unique perspective. It just really bothers me as I travel from country to country and people hear me talk or ask where I come from then proceed to tell me why my country is so messed up and why the world hates them. The worst part is everything they say we have done, we have actually done it.

Some people will claim to be Canadian to avoid this discrimination. I choose to announce that I am American and then spend the night listening to their perspective. Here is an example you may or may not like, but this sort of thing happens to me all the time. I wanted to play Ping Pong (table tennis) here in Biarritz. There were a bunch of people playing and every time I asked they were either “right in the middle of a serious game” or said someone else had the table after them. Then as one guy said goodbye to his playing partner, I asked if the guy still there would like to pay a game with me. He said no he was done playing for the night. I gave up and walked away. As I left I heard him talk to another guy there in French.
French dude “do you want to play a game”
Guy “yeah but wait till that American goes away”
French dude “Yeah he wanted to play with us too”
Guy “I know they think they can just take over anywhere. I just want to relax”
Let’s get one thing out of the way first here, I was stoked and happy as hell I understood them!!!!! Then after that I thought about what they had said and this is what the world thinks of us. Yes there are exceptions and not everyone thinks that exact thing. My point is that is the general response I get as an American. It is time for us to pull our heads out of the sand or whatever other dark place we have stuck them and start learning about the world around us.

At some point we were a well-liked and respected country. Not the fat cats we have grown to become, both physically and figuratively. I have seen many streets in Europe named after our presidents. For example in this little beach town in southern France, there is a John F. Kennedy Street. How cool is that?

Your mission, whether or not you choose to accept it, is this: go talk to your grandparents and ask them what made America so great in their day and how we can achieve that again in the near future. Do not assume you are correct because the rest of America agrees with.
Ahh! Can someone give me a hand as I step down from this soapbox now and get back to my blogging, thanks.