Paradies

In order to provide the pictures for last week's post I went for a little walk.  A few months ago, as we drove by, I had noticed what looked like it was an old parking lot that had been abandoned and was being reclaimed by nature.  That alone I find pretty compelling.  As you'll see from the pictures below, it turned out to be a part of the railway system for the coal mining that hasn't been in use since at least the 1960s*.

What I found most compelling were the manmade structures with the trees growing up through and the contrast between the two worlds fighting to exist in the same space.

Along my path, I came across an older gentleman.  I tried to pass him at one point, because I walk faster than he does. It seemed to be disturbing him when I was walking behind him.  Further along the path, as I took this picture:

he caught up with me and moved up the walkway (aka the ramp designed to inspire mischief in adults):

Seriously - who wouldn't want to go soaring down this thing on a bicycle?  It doesn't even lead to traffic or anything dangerous.  Best part:  That's what it was designed for!! (I'm pretending that's true even though I'm sure I will soon be informed that there's some rule making RIDING down "Verboten")

When I finished taking a series of pictures, I moved ahead and found him waiting for me at the top of the last curve.  He called me over to the railing and pointed.  German wasn't either of our first languages, but he was insistent that I take this picture:

I happily agreed to and then showed him the result.  His face beamed and he excitedly explained how this was paradise.  It doesn't get better than this.  The water.  The trees.  I tried to tell him how I saw it and explain that's why I was outside taking pictures, but he was less impressed with the contrast of man vs. nature and mostly just content that we both had the opportunity to see this view.  I'm still kicking myself for not asking to take his picture but am glad to at least have his story and enthusiasm for Paradies!

Here are a few more photos I took that day.  I also want to point out that at no point did I leave the city.  That is one thing I love about this place.  Nature has claimed its corners. Partly due to remnants of war and partly by choice, man has allowed and fostered that presence within this proud city.  

*It could have been the 60s, or the 80s, or maybe the 70s ... my source on this is a little less certain than the first time I heard this explanation, however, in order to maintain truth in perception and storytelling I've decided not to research it, but simply let the story be as it began. 

Sights and Sounds

Hanging out in an old (mostly abandoned) mining town, I often come across neat little treasures of a time gone by.  Now that the weather has started to warm up a bit, the windows are open bringing in the sights and sounds of the town around me.

Yesterday, as I sat at my table writing, I heard what sounded like a shift change bell.  I thought that it was rather odd that the shifts change here at 2pm, but also thought it was nice that some of the local factories still use the old bells.  It creates a neat atmosphere of times gone by and still serves a functional purpose.

Today as I sat writing and heard the bells again, a friend of mine went running to the window, "Der Eiswagen!"  Apparently what I was hearing wasn't the end of a shift at all.  It was the ice cream truck.  A steady electronic bell sound, reminiscent of the bell signaling the end of a school day is played as the truck drives down the road.  The bell lacks any real festivity or lightness to it.  I thought perhaps that is mostly due to the sentiment that I have placed on the sounds of the ice cream trucks where I grew up.  I quickly located a YouTube video to demonstrate the jaunty Turkey in the Straw melody I was more accustomed to.

Apparently here, that's the kind of tune that is used to let the old men who recycle copper and other metals know that the collection truck is on its way!

Running, running, running ... Shiny thing!

Some of you may know that I run sometimes, but I'm not really much of a runner.  Of late, injury from over-zealous training has resulted in more interval training and fewer running miles, and therefore more photography.  I present to you, my motivation for running: 

Dusk along the trail - best part of my run = it's mostly unpaved.

Because it oddly feels like home even when I'm very far away.

Sometimes the cherry trees, daffodils and tulips (not pictured here) are in bloom.

Okay, maybe not, but "kopf kino" always helps.

Perspectives not Places - Not Safe for All Workplaces.

I am going to use this picture as a symbol of varying perspectives.  When I first came upon this statue I was traveling with someone who lives nearby and explained that this piece was supposed to portray femininity and the beauty of the female form.  I was astounded.  How in all humanity could this be feminine?  Try as I might, I just couldn't see what he was seeing.  I even asked ... but clearly created by a man, yes?  He didn't know and the author was not identified on or around the piece.  Insanity.  I just couldn't see how this could possibly be a representation of the female form.

The Statue As He Saw It

Although the greater theme of this blog is indeed travel, the not so often referred to blog title – Worlds Unseen and Lands Unknown – came from a journal that I had years ago.  I knew that my travel wouldn't fill the book, but I suspected that there would be so many new places and differing experiences to perceive, each its own little world to explore.  Really not so profound when you consider it, but also nice to reflect on periodically.  My writing tends to be most frequent when I'm traveling because that is the easiest time to perceive these differences and learn from them.  

Over the past three years I have had the privilege of working with some pretty amazing people in an environment which fostered growth, learning, quality improvement and integrity while striving for excellence.  I worked hard.  I knew I worked hard, just as those around me did.  We put in some pretty astounding hours and supported each other.  In fact, I remember in my initial interview my soon-to-be manager even said something along the lines of, "here we have a culture of yes.  If asked to take on extra work, people say yes.  If asked if a project or improvement is possible, the answer is yes.  If asked can we make things better, it might take some time but people are committed and we will get to 'yes'." I think she was saying more here than she intended.  It is in some ways the American work ethic.  Through hard work, commitment and a little know how all things are possible.  While I do value all of these things, it is only after taking a few weeks to do NOTHING, and a few months to selectively volunteer my skills that I've started to realize just how much I was missing.  The chronic stress and 60 hour weeks, while productive, were also subductive.  I'll have to leave it to my geology readers to make sure I'm using that correctly.  What I mean is, in a culture where people with the flu at most take 24 hours off from work, some amazing things can happen, but amazing things will also be missed.  By giving ourselves completely to work (whether it is our passion in life or not) we miss so much that just didn't happen to fall within the original perspective in which we approached life.  

I give you, The Statue As I Saw It: 

When there is no home, community is what counts.

Updates post 10/9/15 @ 12pm EDT:  Since this campaign is over, I wanted to provide an additional resource.  Here is an alternate fundraising campaign helping UNHCR : 
http://donate.unhcr.org/international/general/

9/17/15 @ 8am EST:  It's been a while since I posted anything here, and to be honest I've been a bit frustrated lately with the state of "world affairs".  A quick glance at most of my social media presence and you'll easily glean how frustrated and worried I am about the growing immigration crisis in Europe (Pssst, USA - this is a great opportunity to stop hate mongering, rebrand, and be lady liberty again).

This morning though I wanted to share two stories of hope and community.  It's always amazed me that the greatest wells of hope and positivity can often be found in the most dire of situations.  Funny how humanity works sometimes.

Every day, on my commute to and from my current day job, I listen to Funkhaus Europa, a German radio station which highlights the myriad of culture to be found across Europe, and honestly they brand out quite a bit further than that through their Public Radio International affiliation.  Last night on my way home the DJ smoothly transitioned into English (not unusual) and began discussing the refugee situation and calmly announced that FunkHause Europa will now serve an additional function as Refugee Radio.  As a public service they are now announcing logistical situations around Europe such as Hungarian border closings and landmine dangers in the adjusted route over Croatia.  These announcements are presented in both English and Arabic.  Two of the larger language groups spoken among these refugees.

Listening to the announcement on the second half of my walking commute I had to work hard not to cry and to remember to look for cars, not just pay attention to the broadcast.  I was so moved.  I am amazed and proud to be part of a humanity that creates spontaneous community and helps those among us who are in need.

To anyone out there who is currently walking across 2 continents and facing countless perils in the hopes of being able to survive another day, I am in awe and my heart is with you.  While I understand this may not always be the case, I hope you also feel the love from your international community, and know that you have brothers and sisters in humanity.

To anyone else out there who has a home, security, and knows where their next meal is coming from, I'm thrilled that that is the case for you as well.  It would be a sorry state of affairs if the world was split cleanly between refugees, and homeless humanitarians trying to protect refugees.  This next point is for you.

Last night I read a funny statement about a professional sports player.  It was poking a little fun, but it used the term Natty Daddies.  I had no idea what that even is, so I googled it, but before I could even press enter I found the Google Refugee and Migrant Response.  Far more important than any prof. sports joke, Google has put together a matching donation campaign. They will match the first €5 million donations 1:1.  While I haven't vetted the ins and outs of exact rations being donated to each of the 4 humanitarian orgs that will eventually receive donated funds, they are all reputable organizations that have current operations, and I would be happy to donate to any of them individually.  I trust them.  They are Doctors without Borders, International Rescue Committee, Save the Children, and UN High Commissioner for Refugees.

So while today's isn't a story with pretty pictures about international cuisine or a funny anecdote about ninjas riding donkeys, I hope you enjoy a few stories of hope, and community, and even consider joining me in donating to relief efforts.

Stay safe, be loved, and love your neighbors - near and far.

https://onetoday.google.com/page/refugeerelief?c=US&hl=en-US

Home is Where the Heart Is, and Family are Those We Care About.

I am mindful tonight of current events.  Between bombs on restaurants and attacks on field hospitals, my heart is broken and seething.  Mixed in with my grief, I also must acknowledge that I have found another home.  It is not a cabin in the woods, or an apartment with heat and hot water.  This one, like so many, is not a physical location, but an idea.  It’s home and it's family.  I am so stricken with the hate and the violence of a handful of people who wish to change their world by ending someone else’s. 

Despite their best efforts though, I can see a bright and vibrant love and compassion.  In response to events like the raid of La Taverna du Liban and the attack on a Red Cross infirmary in Euromaidan, a community united.  True, there are local reactions, but internationally the ex-pat community is also coming together to find their own, to mourn as one, and to support each other. 

As ex-pats past and present we may, at times, be outsiders in the towns where we were born, and we certainly have conflicting loyalties, opinions and traditions, but together we are a family.  Even if you are a cousin that I haven’t met yet, I will likely buy you dinner, share a laugh, and cry with you if that’s what you need. 

So as my heart is once again ripped asunder, I say to you, those who kidnap aide workers, shoot civilians, and bomb school children:  Shame on you.  Those are my siblings, my nieces, nephews, dayzas, babbas and ejes.  We will continue to love each other despite your best efforts.

Remont!

For anyone who has ever lived, visited, or worked in a country where Russian is prevalent you are undoubtedly familiar with the word "remont" ... or Ремонт or renovation/repair.  There are times when it feels like it is everywhere.  I'm certain the inside jokes attached to that word are endless.  Anyway, as advertisers here keep trying to tell me:  New Year, it's time for a New You!  Well, I'm actually pretty happy with the current me ... is that relevant? 

Point is, there is something I have been meaning to do for a while.  It's time to shed the old elephant skin (blog background, not actual epidermis) and make a new attempt at both aesthetics on this site as well as readability.  Just because it's pretty doesn't mean it can't be practical too. 

So tell me what you think.  I may periodically update the background until I figure out something particularly suitable.  Heck, I may even abandon google's graphics all together and venture out into my own photo shoot ... that sounds like server space though.  We'll see.

In the mean time, I'm going to do something else I've never done before.  I'm going to redirect you to another writer's work.  I don't usually do this in part because I don't read many blogs and in part because I don't really know the etiquette behind this.  You should understand this to mean that I've also not found anything topically relevant that I felt was truly worthy of connecting it to my small but treasured blogovel.  This post is different.  I've been asked many, many, many times how I can travel alone.  Isn't it lonely?  It must be soooooo difficult.  The answer:  Yes.  It is.  But that doesn't make it not worth doing, and it doesn't make it more difficult than travelling with someone else. 

I've mentioned here before how periodically I'll hit a wall.  I'll lock myself in a room and just decide not to go out for the day because after months of newness sometimes my brain just says "ENOUGH!" and needs a day to underwhelm.  I still choose that over not.  I choose to go.

Not to mention traveling with others is hard.  All those coping mechanisms I've nurtured would suddenly be worthless.  I would have to include someone else, which isn't really built into my mechanisms and those mechanisms don't really address any of the new phenomena I would need to cope with if there was an other, other.  Oy!

So much ado, all about nothing.  The piece that I'm talking about is called "I Travel to Feel Lonely ... On Purpose"  The use of ellipses alone almost won me over.  If you haven't yet noticed, I'm a fan.  While I don’t share some of her feelings of coupling envy or agree that solo travel is inevitably a byproduct of being single, I do think her understanding of how solo travel works is spot on.  At least for me.  One of the best solo vacations I took was a lay-over in London that lasted about 24 hours and consisted of going for a run in the rain, people watching, grabbing food at the only open café and taking pictures of things that created interesting patterns and textures.  It was amazing.  It wasn't what tourists are "supposed to do", but that's sort of the beauty of solo travel.

So please, read what Ms. Anna Davies has to say : 
http://www.refinery29.com/2014/01/60099/traveling-alone

and let me know what you think ...