I wanted to add a few other pictures that I couldn't fit into the last post. These are some examples of American influences in Bratislava, and I have put them in order of general cultural unhealthiness, with the least diabetes-inducing/tax-avoiding ones at the top. Of course, as this is only one person's opinion, you may arrange them in whatever order you like:
There are still, however, many things in Bratislava that are untouched by American influence, like this folk musician who serenaded us at lunch:
You may assume, from the woman's expression in the picture (who was one of the program directors), that the music was a bit screechy. But in fact it was very good, and his instrument sounded a lot like that aboriginal pipe thing that was featured so heavily in the outback scenes of "Crocodile Dundee 2-Now That's a Knife" or whatever it was called.
I would also be remiss if I didn't include a picture of the Ambassador's wife, who was nice enough to let us hang out at her house and hooked us up with a very nice dinner, including some little duck liver things on crackers, which I should really have taken a picture of...
So anyway, after a nice stay in Bratislava I hopped on the wrong train, and after many directional changes and attempted conversations in English with people who spoke no English, I finally ended up in Presov, my new home.
1 comment:
You have quite the penchant for international rail misadventures, so it would seem.
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