A security guard I met at my bank in Vienna found out I was going to Italy next week.
I still have no idea why he wants these in Italian, but he asked me if I could get the following DVDs for him:
Mangiato Vivo (Eaten Alive)
La Montagna dei Cannibals (The Mountain of Cannibals)
His name is Wolf.
Was at the famed Cafe Hawelka in Vienna.
Mr. and Mrs. Oblivious were sitting next to me, along with four little Obliviouses--all seated around a table the size of a pillbox, all under the age of 10, and all armed with cell phones.
Who knew digitized Mozart could sound so horrid on a ringtone, or that a cacophony of four ringtones at once, ad infinitum, would NOT make my head explode.
Before leaving, the eldest of the Oblivious children leaned back into my table to take a photo with his still-shrieking cell phone.
Visualizing various forms of carnage befalling the Obliviouses helped defuse the bomb ticking inside me-- like a soothing balm.
Was enjoying a coffee this morning at the cafe, Remi by my side. First day in awhile that was sunny.
Uncle Billy* comes up, all hugs and kisses and sweaty face. Of course his belt was completely undone, as was his fly. Nonono, not drunk, not a perv, just a good old fashioned flake.
*It's A Wonderful Life
In Austria it's pretty easy to order food at a restaurant, even if you don't know the language. If you learn schnitzel, kartoffel (potatoes), kraut and bier, that pretty much covers the whole of Austrian cuisine.
Not the same in, say, Romania.
On my first day in Timisoara, an editor took me to lunch, put a 25-page menu in front of me and said "What do you want?"
Hmmm... I don't know, what sorts of things do they have?"
Since not even I am cruel enough to make a perfect stranger explain every item on a menu, I interrupted him after he'd politely made his way through the soups and starters.
"I'll just have chicken and rice."
"Rice?"
"Yes, rice," I said. "You know, riza, reis, pilaf.... It's a grain. They grow a lot of it in China."
Ah ha, he nodded. Affirmatively. As if he knew what I meant.
Then he summoned the waitress and placed our orders.
About 15 minutes later, I had before me a plate of chicken and a heaping portion of pickles.
Remi is having nightmares still, no doubt reliving Sunday's trauma. Maybe in her dreams she's actually getting away from the two big dogs... anyhow, when she starts yelping and jerking in her sleep, I rest my hand on her and that seems to calm her.
She woke me this morning with lots of sloppy kisses, so I think the worst of it is over.
I've been going through old emails. Found this to my sister, Joellyn, written when I was in the Republic of Georgia in 2002.
Incidentally, the gas wasn't turned on for three more weeks.
Hi,
Just thought I'd give you a quick update.
A group of us went to the movies last night: a bootlegged "A Beautiful Mind."
The gas in Georgia has been turned off because the country didn't pay its bill. They get their gas from Russia and if they pay $2 million by noon today, we'll have gas tomorrow. Hard to tell if it will happen or not. Meanwhile, no electricity, and lots of the more trendy establishments have noisy generators eating up sidewalk space.
I heard a military advisor speak yesterday. Georgia claims to have a 20,000 member army, but this Georgian/American (the military advisor) says he's still looking for it. He was a good speaker and didn't mince words.
Apparently, the Georgian "army" is a ragtag team of would-be soldiers, none of whom have uniforms or are paid.
The US is sending up to 150 military experts here, at a cost of $60 million, to train the Georgians and it appears that it will be an uphill battle.
Some of the basic conditions set out by the Americans are:
Soldiers must be paid,
They must not steal equipment,
They must sign up for a 3-year commitment.
If we go through with training (depending on conditions being met), they will train the soldiers how to behave, a) as civilians, and b) as soldiers. Apparently, "soldiers" don't realize it is not appropriate to bring your AK-47 into church, McDonalds, etc.
On a related note, the coat check at the Sheraton used to be a gun check.
Write when you can. My mailbox gets awfully empty.
Love,
Patti.
The staples have to be in for two weeks, but Remi seems to be recovering from the bite wound. The word has traveled fast round this town, Tina the German Shepherd being demonized, to my secret delight.
We made our first trip to the Landman Cafe since the horror that was Sunday, and Remi was greeted with treats and cuddles.
No one exactly threw rocks at me, but she is clearly the favorite patron.
When I was in Macedonia, a British journalist told me that his 4-year-old daughter was in the grocery store with them the previous night.
She said she wanted some Cockporn, just like they had the other night.
It's a public holiday here. Like any good American, I honor all Austrian holidays.
I actually left Remi for a couple of hours and went to the movies in Bratislava (hey, a multiplex!). Saw Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Had to wipe the blood off the screen when I left.
When I first went to Bratislava about 10 years ago, an American friend and I went to the movies, and we met our Slovak friend (aptly named Slavo) at the ticket counter.
They forced assigned seats on everyone, which seemed ridiculous---a group of about 20 people, huddled like a football team in the middle, the rest of the house empty. Seemed ridulous until we realized we were competely reliant on our warm bodies banded together to fight against the teeth-chattering cold.
Then it was a fight for survival.
FAST FOWARD
A few years later I took some journalism students to see The Insider. When we got to the theater, we learned the film had been inexplicably transferred to another cinema, and any questions about it, such as, for example, WHY, were met with an indifferent shrug.
Since we were all there, and at least some movie was about to start, some students voted to stay and see it (Being John Malcovich). About 10 minutes before the film was to end, the projector was turned off and the house lights switched on.
Hey!! What's going on?!?!?! The movie hasn't ended yet!!!
The projectionist shouted back that he didn't care, he had a bus to catch.
Ohhh, he needs to catch the bus. Okayyyy, then. Apparently, this was viewed as a strong argument, and everyone dutifully filed out of the theater.
Remi was bitten by a German Shepherd this morning.
We were on the field and she was on the leash. Of course she was on the leash, because there were two big dogs there.
They, however, were not on the leash and the end result is, Remi was bitten.
It's the third (!) time. Twice by one dog (the second time I wasn't here, and Remi's caretaker ignored my warning to keep her away from Lara!), and now by the idiot German Shepherd.
She has never bitten. Will she start now? She used to be a little darling, playing joyfully with all the dogs. Now she is suspicious and on guard. I don't blame her.
Yesterday a former student (Moldova), who is planning a trip to India, wrote me that she needed "porker" money to get around on.
