Czeching In...sorry, I had to.

I'm told the metros were put really deep in the ground so they could be used to escape nuclear attack.

Its almost 11 pm and the rocket fuel I mixed with the Absinthe before going out last night is still chugging  through my veins. This should be good time to write down my initial impression of Prague. I wrote alot down in my journal in the last two days. Its fun to see how your views change with time and experience.

When I got to the Prague airport two nights ago, I thought to myself, "this must be the end of the beaten path." I looked up at the arrivals screen and saw mostly cities I had never heard of or I knew only in name. Before I left the airport I changed my Euros into  Czech crowns. This was the first time I had ever come close to carrying a 1000 note in my wallet. It was roughly $60, I think.

 On the bus ride into the city the signs were legible but surely I would have pronounced them wrong.  The Czech alphabet is composed of 42 characters; the same as English except with a variety of different symbols above the letters.  Also on the bus ride I was reminded of something that doesn't exist in Holland: bumpy roads.  While grasping for comparisons to cities I had been to, San Francisco popped into my head. "Why?," I wondered. Finally it came to me, something else that doesn't exist in Holland: Hills! Outside the bus the buildings seemed austere and cold. This was my initial impression from the night I arrived. It would soon
change.

The next day, my host and I took a rainy walk towards the center of town. On the way, the first shock was a view over the river valley to the top of the "newer" side of the city. This party still has history going back about 700 years. The horizon had towers everywhere, of all different styles. The buildings we a wide array of colors, ages, and architectural styles. Even in the grey haze the bridges, the city, the trees and the river were breathtaking.

The fist destination of our walk was the cities oldest cathedral dating back to the 900s. We then went down the "gold street," across Charles Bridge and into the touristy city center. Amidst the crowd and memento shops, it seemed like any other large European city, luckily there is so much more to this city. We headed back to hotel for a nice "rest" of the day. At night I met up with an Aussie traveler I had met in the airport and we charged off to a five story club that is renown as the largest club in central Europe. It lived up to the hype.

Today is the day that I began to really wrap my head around the majesty of the city. It was somewhere along the tour of a more remote cathedral and cemetery of famous Czech figures that the city and its history came alive. This is a tease, but not intentionally. The jet fuel is running out, and typing this into my droid is really becoming a pain. So, the details of the historic vitality of this city will have to come later. Also, unfortunately good pictures of the scenery will have to wait until I can upload them back in Meppel.  I was worried that the stay here was going to be far too long, but this is a city that you could still be hungry for in a two or even three week stay. More to come, Good Night!

Filling in the Gaps

It’s been a long two weeks.  The two weeks ago Wednesday I headed for Spain for yet another once in a lifetime experience.  I went, as I said in my last two posts, to Pueblo Ingles and for a moment of sun and solitude in Valencia. I slept in ten hours last night and I think I am finally caught up on rest enough to mentally digest the whole experience.

Wednesday

On the plane I had a long conversation with a cool punk rock drummer… When I got to the bus stop I noticed what had to be the most stereotypical Spanish girl ever. She had a red carination in long black hair, red lipstick, and was waving a red fan. She wore a black blouse with lace low around her shoulders with black pants. I was happy to be in Spain.

On the bus I spoke with a Portuguese man about Portugal and his job as for Johnson and Johnson eyewear. I couldn’t stop looking at the girl. The final stop was at the train station where everybody got off. The girl made every effort to show that she wanted to talk so I finally asked some lame question about the train station. The rest of the day was spent touring the central park called the Retiro with her. I checked into the hostel and after I went out to dinner with the girl for Cuban food…oh my god! That night we danced salsa in the courtyard of the palace until 3 in the morning.

Thursday

In the morning I went for a run and a workout in an area that has all the par course stuff without all the running. For lunch I met the Anglo members of my program for paella and a flamenco show. 

When in Spain, do as the Spanish do. I spent the rest of the napping, talking, and making out, in the park with my new Spanish amorcita. That night it was all about Tapas and Beer! I called it an early night because the bus left for el Aldeaduero early the next day.

Friday to Friday

I talked and talked and talked my brains out. I met great new friends and ate and ate and ate. I swam in the pool and the river. I danced and drank and talked some more.

Friday night, completely worn thin, I tried to sleep on the bus back to Madrid but I couldn’t stop talking. I checked into my hostel with big plans of going out for the night again. But as soon as I sat on the bed it was game over.

Saturday

I toured more of Madrid and got into the Reina Sofia modern art museum for free. I met a girl from Uruguay while trying to figure out Surrealist works. I had fun talking pictures of people with the paintings.

 I headed for Valencia on the futuristic “AVE,” Spain’s high speed train. I walked to my hostel in Valencia, met up with a roommate from the Bahamas and we headed out for the night at 1. Valencia is a good place to party. We spent the whole night dancing with a group of girls from Venezuela, or I should say the tops of their heads.

Sunday

I got into my hostel at 8 in the morning. Lights out until 1 in the afternoon. I had planned to head to the beach but the energy wasn’t there. I took my camera for a walk to check out the romantic beauty of the city. I had not the energy to understand the classical beauty in the history and meaning in the city. I made dinner of lentils and rice out of the free food in the cupboard in the hostel kitchen and then it was bedtime.

I dont know what this is, but it looks cool.

 

Paella

Outside the Botanical Gardens of Valencia

Tapas with some Aussie Travelers

A Valencian Market. Dont touch

Monday 

Finally, I made it to the beach with, of all people, a gang of nine Dutch girls who had rented bikes and had an extra for me. Apparently riding bikes in Spain is a bit different than Holland.  We made it to the beach alive, barely, and the weather was perfect.

I struck up a conversation with a guy wearing an SF Giants who turned out to be a hockey player from Ottawa. Coincidentally he had also been living in Holland for a school term. We compared stories, shared plenty of laughs and enjoyed the unbelievable sights of the Mediterranean beach.

That night, to no one’s surprise, the Dutch girls drank me under the table and I headed to bed to catch my flight the next day.

Tuesday

I had not messed up my travel plans once in the whole time trip…yet. I made it to the Valencia airport with plenty of time to hear all about a 19 year old Aussie traveler’s crazy stories. We sat on the plane next to Frenchman who moved to Iceland originally for soccer but stayed there for a job with Adidas and the speed. I learned more than I ever had about soccer from this guy. I am slowly beginning to appreciate the sport.

A four hour layover in Paris’ Charles Degual airport was enough of those people for me. People of France: Sorry I am American, Give me a break!

Finally I made it to Amsterdam and I finally did it. Thanks to a train snafu, I got to spend the night in Amsterdam. I wore up on a bench overlooking a canal in the morning and finally made it back to Meppel.

What a crazy adventure it had been! I am happy to be back in Meppel where I can certainly appreciate the feeling of normalcy. The people are still welcoming and the quiet bedroom is soooo comfortable. It felt good to rest and be on the baseball field the last couple days. 

Good morning!

I had to rush this post because guess what, I’m off again. My host is taking me to Prague to visit the baseball clubs’ sister club in the Czech Republic. It’s hard for me to believe too. I am so excied. More news to come soon.

Fluency

The grass is dry but the sandy soil is still damp from the morning dew. The valley is awash with the buzzing and chirping of insects and accented by bird songs. From one of the walls of the valley I can hear the lazy echo of a goat’s call. I open my eyes and the reality seems more like a dream. Above me stands a huge cactus whose flowers are nearly ready to bloom. Behind the cactus the ground rises to a peak that won’t permit the sun to enter the valley until later in the morning. On this hill are the native plants and grasses of the dry Mediterranean climate that grow in on and around the large rounded granite boulders. On the opposite wall of this valley is Portugal. A great rock protrusion stands and watches over the valley. The bending layers of rock expose its age, but still it stand strong, enduring the tests of time. Below it are groves of olive trees and terraced grape vines. Below that is the Duero river that cut out this valley. The river is the reason I am here.

In the 1950s men reformed the lay of the land that took ages to create. A dam, that I would consider great if it weren’t for the rock formation above it, connects to an acre of electrical transformers and massive constructions of metal beams carry the power lines into Spain and evidence the ingenuity man. Below the electrical project is the town that was built to sustain the people who built it. The town is tucked into the quietest and greenest part of the valley. Above the futbol field in the center of town stands a church. As my tiny new friend Nieves told me, “In Spain, if there is no church, there is no town.”

I lie on the grass in front of one of the small white terra cotta houses that surround the church and complete the villa. Here is where the Spaniards and my fellow Anglos stay while at a program called Pueblo Ingles.

Pueblo Ingles is an English immersion program for Spanish professionals in the pursuit of fluency of the English language. For me it is a free week of delicious food, new friends and fun in this quiet paradise. While I sit in the grass I appreciate this bit of silence more than ever. While the program is “free” to me, it is actually provided in exchange for my conversation. I have been in constant conversation for about 12 hours a day, sometimes lead by activities, sometimes casually at breakfast, lunch and dinner and sometimes in one to one conversations with a Spaniard.

It is quite possible that I am learning as much as the Spaniards. 12 hours a day of conversation is not exactly natural for me. I am learning the art of conversation. I am learning about the region of Galicia in northern Spain from which this wonderful group of primary and secondary school teacher come from. And inevitably I am learning about life. Not being someone who is at all interested in conversation for the sake of conversation, I have had conversations ranging from parenting and values, the Spanish education System, the existence of absolute truths, the Spanish Revolution, the anatomy of the knee, the passive voice, introductions to baseball, South Africa, and even the purpose of life and of course food.

While exploring in my free time, a beautiful Australian girl and I found a granite island in the middle of river where the rushing wind and soft current of the deep river provides a space to bathe in sun and silence and reflect. As more and more of the world fills my head I am reminded of the truth that no man can do or understand it all. The Spanish, who are notorious for their ‘ability to enjoy life.' They have many ways of explaining this attitude to me. “Ju are jung, they tell me while explaining the world to me, “ju cang gwait.” This idea of patient flow is something that I cant help but to adopt while I stay here.

Life flows like the river. The flow of the river is a function of volume over time. One can attempt to control the flow or slow it down but inevitably the water must pass. I am learning that instead of controlling volume one must accept time. Lying on the warm rock, feeling my breath I could just experience the flow. The river brought us all their for the Spaniards find fluency of language.  I am discoveringd the fluency of life.

Another vague post. I am exhausted. When I get some rest and time I will fill in some more details of this trip and get many more pictures up.

The Hard Life

I am waiting to baord my flight to Spain right now. I already know what youre thinking, can you take a vacation from a vacation? I am off to Spain during a the "summer stop" during which no games are played. I will spend the majority of the time at "Pueblo Ingles" an english immersion program for Spaniards. It is a weee in a isolated hotel where Spaniards have to speak english with native speakers. For me it is a free week of three squares a day and sunshine while learning about another different culture. I am excited. e shall see how it turns out.

The weather has been nice so I have been doing more doing than writing. Hopefully I will get a chance to put down my experience at the World Port Tournament, an Egg Farm, more baseball games, and more Amsterdam. Hopefully I will get some bad weather when I get back so I can get it down. I also pray for rain this weekend because I had to skip a game to take advantage of the time period that was offered to me in Spain. Back in two weeks!

Fourth of July

To celebrate my homeland, here is a picture from brothers latest adventure in Louse Canyon in Eastern Oregon.         Photo by Tim Neville

To celebrate Independence Day I BBQ’ed chicken with the other American living in this quiet Dutch town. I spent the whole day acting as if I were in America. I walked tall pretending I was no longer a standout foreigner.  I did things as and as I pleased and it was very liberating.  It felt good to be home. However, as I could not find a single American beer or Chinese firecracker and I did not drive a car, by the end of the day I realized I was very far from home. So when I returned to my present home for the evening I decided to check in on news in the US. 

After checking out the headlines I discovered we are confronting two huge issues that will decide the path that our nation. The Farm Bill and Debt Ceiling are the major issues that I speak of. They reflect greater issues of national debt, food security, government responsibility and corporate interests that I find important and hope that you do too.  There issues have become more serious over the past 80 years stemming from a mix of firmly held yet paradoxically nebulous American qualities.  

Now the reason I write this post is because I have really had to confront those last two words, “American qualities.” Just about every day I am confronted with questions that start with: “Is it true that in America,” “Do Americans really,” “Why do Americans,” and so on. I am forced to consider, defend, and sometimes criticize what “American qualities” are. What is American? This experience has been especially enlightening. I have learned that it is a mix of a lot of good and a lot of bad. 

Because I am here I often face the outside perception of America which most often highlights the bad. I had an idea about our collective weaknesses before but looking from such a different vantage point, it has become very evident. Ignorance, arrogance, irresponsibility are the root characteristics that I cannot defend. I speculate that there is also another related cause. Our relative isolation and short history on such bountiful land have provided for us the false perception of entitlement to unlimited everything. 

As an effect, we have now become a more shortsighted, instant-gratification seeking, throw-away society than ever. Consumerism only serves to numb our senses to the problems we face. Never in history have people been capable of exploiting their own, land, people, resources, freedoms, and health at such a rate.  Yet the paradox is that what makes America great is our own downfall: We have the freedom to do these things. 

I have and will adamantly defend the rationale for the things that I believe make America truly great. We are truly blessed at birth with the inalienable rights of Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness and we are a very small portion of the world that can take these things for granted. But this is part of the problem. In taking these things for granted we have diluted their meanings, especially the meaning of liberty. The sands of time have faded our conception of liberty into only the idea that we can do whatever whenever. Herein lies the greatest problem we face. Yes, liberty is the freedom to do as we will without the influence of outside forces but it does not mean that we have the freedom to do as we will without the influence of forces that we in effect created. Liberty entails two inseparable components: the freedom to act counterbalanced by the equally great responsibility for the choices we make and the actions we take. If you build your house, you earned the benefit of living in it, but if you burn it down you earn an equally real consequence.

If we do not secure the responsibility for our choices, our actions, or inactions, other forces will! Gigantic consolidated businesses arising from a free-market unchecked by the people are eager to consume our freedom, our right to choose. The cold shackles of individual and national debts will smoothly seize our wrist if we continue to sit in our plush surroundings. If we do not wield our responsibility we will either ultimately submit to these forces or our government will take responsibility and decide our fate. But is the later alternative any more agreeable? In any event your very own volition is caged.

The only way we can defy these forces is to become as big, as strong, and as hungry as they are. Our size and strength is determined by our collective knowledge. Become aware and support education. Spread your vision of a strong, independent America. Challenge doubt, inaction and insubstantial comfort. Learn and be free. Set others free.

Our hunger is determined by our will for responsibility. We must take responsibility for the strengths and weaknesses of ourselves and of others. We must take responsibility of our perception in the world and in time. Accept the gift of responsibility for ourselves as we have accepted the gift of freedom. Save, conserve and consider.  Be aware of your freedoms and ask, is my use of freedom strengthening it or relinquishing it? Do what is good for the citizen and the state. 

The strength of America has always been the strength of its people. Endowed with freedom, the hardworking, enduring and dedicated people are capable of failure but more often great unity, innovation, and progress. We are Americans. We are America. We must honor the lives of those genuinely great people who created, fought for, and preserved our country and our rights. Honor them with awareness and respect them with responsibility.

If you made it to the end, thank you for reading this. As you may be able to tell, this means a great deal to me. Please be active. Whether you agree or disagree, don’t know or don’t understand, I sincerely hope you consider this, explore more, and if you are bold make this your conversations. If it made you think, I would love to hear your thoughts. Please leave a comment on this page or on my facebook page. I think this discussion needs to begin.