Living in Slovakia

I'm Cashed

2006-05-20T05:41:00.000-07:00

I am at the end of my blogging rope, which neatly coincides with my departure from Slovakia. After this weekend I will be embarking on a multi-country, credit score-destroying trip for much of June, which should take me to the Primavera Festival and the Trevi Fountain . Maybe I'll even get to meet this guy.

All of this is exciting, but it's hard to leave my new home. I'll miss some things a little, and I'll miss some things a lot.

Things I will Miss a Lot:

The People-
Everyone here in Slovakia has been very welcoming, and I have made many life-long friends who I would bail out of prison, in most countries. I don't want to turn this into an acceptance speech, so rest assured that if I know you, and you lived in Slovakia for any amount of time in the last year, you are one of these friends. Thanks for being so friendly. And I'm very lucky that the friend I would miss the most won't be missing at all.

Another group of people I'm really going to miss are my students. They put up with my lightning-fast slur-mumble, and didn't even groan when I assigned over a hundred pages of reading for one week (although there was some in-mouth vomiting). They're super-smart, ultra-nice, and just all-around excellent. These are just some of my favorite students, there are many others:

I'll miss them a ton, but hopefully they'll keep in touch, maybe with news of their occupying the administration office. That would be cool.

Slavka-
The department secretary, a life-saver, she would go out of her way to speak in little English phrases in order to help me out. She was also an almost limitless supplier of tape, which came in handy. A real trooper, I hope that some day she gets her own department, where people will get tape for her:

Halusky-
So creamy. A friend when you need one. And the little pieces of burnt bacon! I am choking back tears as I write this:

I also must give a "shout-out" to the one thing that really made all of this possible, my camera. I planned on taking a picture of my camera and putting it here, but it proved to be difficult due to our universe's current, and arguably unfair, rules of physics. Nevertheless, you can imagine my camera as a plastic, trustworthy and Japanese companion which went everywhere with me and never let me down. It has many buttons that I don't understand, but that's OK, because we have our whole lives together. God bless you, Sony HSC.

Apart from all of the whining, I enjoyed making this blog, and I now have a photo-diary of my time here. It also gave me a good reason to take pictures of my food, which makes everyone in the restaurant uncomfortable, which I enjoy. Therefore, I plan on possibly continuing this activity, on a different continent and at a different site. I think I will focus solely on things I eat, which means I will probably never actually post anything. But who knows.

For those of you who read this, thanks, it made my year. If you are traveling to the SK, and have any questions, this site will not help you, but feel free to e-mail me. Take care of yourselves, and each other. And your pets.

Dovidenia,
ML

Summer Comes to Presov

2006-05-18T15:00:00.000-07:00

After almost eight months of snow, wind, rain, snow, rain, and unpleasantness, the summer has finally arrived. Today it is sunny and mild, which I've been told only lasts for a couple of days before it becomes unbearably hot and humid, so I should be outside right now, but I have a duty to you, the reader (AKA Grandma).

The big symbol of summer's arrival in the east is the opening of the outdoor cafes on the main street:

These cafes are pretty cool, and people just basically sit in them and drink beer from lunchtime until they pass out and are unceremoniously dumped onto the street. I don't know if this ever happens, but it certainly adds to the narrative theme I am trying to fabricate here.

If I had to choose a favorite outdoor cafe, or "terrace" as the locals say, I would go with this one:

This place is really no different than the others except for the fact that its name clearly suggests that it serves some type of food, perhaps even steak, but when you go there during lunch they tell you that they don't serve food, while a group of people eat steak right in front of you. So basically, they offer superior service.

Another seasonal event is the graduation of the high school ("gymnazium") students. When their classes come to an end, before their big exams, they get into suits and dresses and walk around the city center, banging on cowbells and asking people on the street for money. It basically looks like this:

Also, the kids go into different stores and try to get the owners to give them cash. If the store forks it over, they become something like the financial patron saint of the class, and get to put these nifty signs in the window:

I don't actually know if this is what happens, I just pieced a theory together from the observations I made while eating ice cream. If someone wants to write in with a comment correcting my facts and telling me that I'm a lazy internet user, please don't, as it will cripple my e-self esteem.

And of course people are eating lots of ice cream. People of all ages, sexes, races and political orientations eat ice cream here all day, every day, all the time:

I realize that this last lady is clearly not eating ice cream, but I'm trying to illustrate a point, so back up off my proverbial e-grill.

I've eaten more ice cream here than I have in the last ten years, and I don't even like ice cream. Pretend that you lived in a society where everyone walking down the street, at all times, is holding an ice cream cone. First, you don't want to be the only one not holding a cone, which would expose you to public scorn (and a possible trip to the Shame Cage). Also, when everyone is eating ice cream, and most people don't seem to be suffering from morbid obesity, you start to believe that you too can eat ice cream every day, all day, and not end up in the ground at the age of 38.

I've fallen victim to this line of thinking, and am therefore getting very tired of ice cream. I've considered inventing a fake ice cream cone which I could carry on the street, but that would be dishonesty, which is not my policy.

And there are people! People are now everywhere, all the time, in the center. It's like Grand Central Station, but with ice cream and in Slovak. Here's people pictures:

There was even a person who looked exactly like David Cross of "Mr. Show" fame, which was exciting:

And of course, someone kicked in the telephone booth again. 2 Wycked!:

So, typically, once the weather finally starts getting nice, and the fun really begins, I have to leave. I've only got about another week here before I'm basically gone for good, so I will try to post one more thingy, chock-full of sentimentality, with some of it even possibly being sincere. And after that, I will have blogged myself to death, and can rest. Enjoy the weather!

Animals of the Balkans

2006-05-16T15:07:00.000-07:00

I thought it would be prudent to take most of the animal pictures and put them in a separate post. This way, you can have a concentrated dose of Balkan critters:

Serbian Horse- Serbia

Dog with Firm Buttocks- Belgrade

Stank Cat- Dubrovnik

Cat Who Wouldn't Just Let People Eat Their Food- Mostar

Small Bird Under the Table When I Was Eating a Salad Due to the Fact that I was Suffering from Indigestion Due to some Questionable Mussels the Previous Evening- Road to Split

Brown Dog from Split- Split

Brown Dog from Split and Enemy/Potential Mate- Split

Plastic Horse Who Is In Fact a Ride: Split

Dead Food- Split

A Slug- Plitvice Lakes National Park

Albino Dog- Dubrovnik

Buddy and Buddy- Dubrovnik

Predator- Dubrovnik

Prey- Dubrovnik

And that pretty much was my Spring Break, Balkans style. If anyone tells you the Balkans are not safe, or no fun, that's bullcrap, so be sure to go before you're dead.

Hungarian is Hard

2006-05-16T15:02:00.000-07:00

We spent some time in Pecs, Hungary, and Budapest on the way home. It was great, I love Hungary, but I would like to focus here on how intimidating the Hungarian language is.

Below are some examples of the Hungarian language that I ran into. They are by no means the most insane, but were instead chosen for the fact that they are typical of an average Hungarian statement (I think). As a fun exercise, when you find the time, go down this list and attempt to say the sentences you see. Then pretend that you are very hungry, or about to be thrown into a Hungarian prison, and try harder:

Now for fun, check out this excellent BBC site which can teach you some basic phrases in Hungarian, along with providing in-depth and really cool lessons in Spanish, French, German and Italian.

I don't really have anything else to say about Hungary, ever, except that I really like it. If you ever go, be sure to take me with you.

Croatia Part II- Zagreb and a Bunch of Waterfalls

2006-05-16T14:46:00.000-07:00

And then we went to the capital of Croatia, Zagreb.

Zagreb

Zagreb isn't known for being beautiful like the coastal cities of Dubrovnik and Split, but it really isn't Zagreb's fault, as it isn't on a coast.

I think it definitely has its charms, with a very nice city center. However, we didn't stay in the city center, but on the outskirts at the Hotel Omladinski:

The place is a student dorm, with the usual hung-over students aimlessly wandering the halls wearing flip-flops with socks. I can't say I really enjoyed it, but we didn't stay long, as the city center beckoned.

So here is the center:

It's basically a large square with a bunch of outdoor cafes and shops. It was very busy the day we were there, and the weather was nice. The central feature of the square is this statue of an important person on a horse:

This statue is the work of a master, who took the time to render a beautiful and anatomically honest piece of work for the people:

Another statue was the "Old Lady with Cheese on Head", which is placed outside the market where the old ladies sell cheese. I assume this was intentional:

As I had been awake at this point for almost an hour and a half, I started feeling hungry with the kind of hunger that your average Corny Bar (a bar of sugared corn, husks removed) cannot satisfy:

But what to eat? At this point I can recommend the local Zagreb tourist guide book, "Zagreb in your Pocket", which you can pick up for free almost anywhere (well, almost anywhere in Zagreb). This little guide revolutionized the genre by both not taking itself too seriously, and by actually being funny. For instance, check out this review of the Maharadža Indian restaurant, where we ended up:

Maharadža is a place that brings us tears of joy every time we re-discover it, for it's so dam good it feels like the first time every time! With an impressive array of Indian options including a number of superb curries, the cooks know how to satisfy your tummy bored with same old crap. It's well spiced and will have you sweating in no time. The interior gets you into relax mode immediately.

I found this advice to be on the nose. I also liked the review of McDonald's, with it's ode to the fry:

The tram was crowded and a generous scent of unfiltered human body odour pervaded into every crevice. Just then some jerk with a golden-arched to-go bag entered the car. The smell of pure fry immediately overwhelmed the stench and quickly had everyone in the car salivating to the floor-boards. That, dear friends, is the freakish and almost terrifying power of the McDonald's french fry.

So here is the Maharadža:

For those keeping score, I had the chicken:

And off we were, walking around the town for the rest of the afternoon. I saw this guy in the square:

I walked through a nice park:

In which the homeless were being harassed by the fuzz:

I saw an old jeep:

I learned a local law:

And I found a good name for a band:

Zagreb was fun, go if you are within a 20-mile radius. Next, it was waterfall time!

Plitvice Lakes National Park

Plitvice Lakes National Park is an extremely popular tourist destination, where you get the opportunity to walk around a beautiful environment filled with ducks and waterfalls, and then if you are lucky, you can take pictures of the ducks and the waterfalls:

The trail we took is supposed to take about four hours, but we got it done in five, mainly due to the fact that we got stuck behind a gigantic tour group of retired French people:

Some of my French companions didn't realize that the group was their people (and could speak French), and perhaps due to some cultural attitudes towards such a group, made disparaging and audible comments about their speed.

Then, when the aforementioned companions realized that they had been heard, and were in danger of being beaten by very sensible shoes, they suggested that we run away. We did, but the tour group caught up to us at the boat ride across the lake. Thankfully the retirees were merciful, and only scowled at us, which we deserved:

And then it was back to Hungary, headed towards home. This vacation was quickly coming to an end, and a sad return to my 7-hour work week was looming large...

Croatia Part I- Dubrovnik and Split

2006-05-12T16:38:00.000-07:00

Dubrovnik, Croatia

So then we were in Croatia. I thought the bold headings might be helpful, telling these Croatian-beach-castle-fortress-towns apart can be tricky. First we went to the southern town of Dubrovnik, which is really more like a big castle than a town, albeit one filled with all of the tourist fripperies you can cram into a castle. It was also super pretty. Here are some pictures of our "walk around the ramparts". I don't know why I used quotation marks:

We spent two whole days in Dubrovnik, and had a bucket of fun. We also had many cappucinos. The cappucinos in Croatia were the best I ever had, but I haven't had that many, so take it with a grain of doubt. They exude frothiness, which may be a bad quality for a person (and a potential indicator of rabies), but is ideal for a cappucino:

V-1, who had spent considerable time in D-Town, was our super-tour guide, and was nice enough to work without pay. Here, she took us to a secret, secluded area underneath the town, which was supposedly the home to hundreds of stray cats.

I suggested we go there and photograph the cats, for science. We were disappointed to find that there were no cats around at all. A local man later told us that there had been a veritable stray cat genocide in the last year. Which I guess explains why we couldn't find any of those cats. Well, we did find these, by the dumpster:

And here is the street the dumpster was on, so you can have some perspective:

And on this same street was this red car with the red white power bumper sticker. Maybe the owner of the car just believes that the color white exudes the qualities of being "innocent, pure, optimistic, indecisive":

But they're probably just racist. Boring!

Do you like strong emotions? Then Sexy Night is for you:

Dubrovnik was unfortunately not spared from the horrors of the Balkan War, and underwent a nasty siege . If you like, you can buy an expensive DVD which will tell you more:

Here is the main fountain at the entrance to the Old City. You can drink the water out of this fountain, like the fountain in Rome (I have never been to Rome). It is supposed to be delicious, and it was, with a nice bouquet of sea animals and rust:

We decided to take a boat to a beach which was a half-hour away. We didn't take the glass-bottom boat, but I include this picture for those who would receive pleasure from such innuendo:

Instead we took this boat. It was just us and a bunch of Italian families. Remember that Italy is just across the sea from Croatia, in case you ever find yourself on Hollywood Squares, which I think has, sadly, been cancelled:

We dipped our feet into the harsh but forgiving Adriatic Sea, and I wrote a poem about it. Actually, that was the poem:

And this kid kept following us, who I believe is a member of the Obavještajna agencija:

And then we split. For Split. Go ahead and vomit.

Split, Croatia

Split is yet another devastatingly beautiful coastal city, filled with incredible history, frothy cappucinos and more European tourists than most people would probably be able to stand without descending into occasional muttered stereotyping, which I of course did not participate in.

It is home to Diocletian's Palace, built in 3rd Century A.D. and still looking great. According to my shockingly worthless "Rough Guide to Europe", which I hope you never purchase, it is #3 on the list of 25 things that you just have to see in Europe during your two week visit to all 30 countries. For some perspective, if my memory serves, French cheese was #9. Here's the Palace:

The city is small but very nice. We took a stroll, and some pictures:

The local ads ran the gamut from disgusting to genital-centric. Here's one which is also popular at drugstores ("Lekarens") in Slovakia. I'm as unlikely to buy a product named "Vichy" as I am to name my kid Adolf, and this poster doesn't help their cause much either:

And I wouldn't buy this bag, because if it has a hole in it for someone's penis then things will clearly fall out of it. I can't believe I'm not in advertising:

This owner of this store was smart enough to realize that people often want cigarettes, foot powder and a doll to mutilate, and don't want to have to go to a bunch of different stores:

As this region is the Dalmatian Coast, numerous knick-knacks are available. This shirt allows you to both tell someone that you have been to such a beautiful and overly-expensive tourist region, and that their Mom sucks:

This was my only purchase, of course in a "Large". I was planning on having it be the prize for some contest for the regular reader, but some things are hard to give away:

And then we went to other places in Croatia. It will take me forever to finish this Spring Break thing, but then again I don't have any responsibilities whatsoever, so why not.

My Trip to Slovenia

2006-05-08T16:15:00.000-07:00

I was invited by some colleagues on my program to travel to Slovenia last weekend, and I gladly accepted. As my overpriced and underwhelming "Rough Guide to Europe" puts it

Slovenia is the most stable, prosperous and welcoming of all Europe's erstwhile Communist countries. The landscape is as varied as it is beautiful: along the Austrian border the Julian Alps provide stunning mountain scenery; further south, the brittle karst scenery is riddled with spectacular caves. Slovenia's capital, Ljubljana, is a vital, youthful place, manageably small and cluttered with Baroque and Hapsburg buildings.

Sounds pretty nice, huh? My journey started out well enough, with a six-hour train ride to Bratislava to meet the gang for the trip across the border. Everything was going swimmingly until I was about two hours away from B'lava, when it dawned on me that perhaps I should have brought my passport.

On realizing this, I uttered this word very loudly towards the lady sitting next to me.

I don't know what I was thinking, perhaps it was the fact that Slovakia and Slovenia are almost the same word, and therefore I wouldn't need a passport. The people on the program were very sympathetic, and even took it upon themselves to concoct a series of increasingly more illegal schemes to smuggle me across Austria and into Slovenia. In the end, it didn't seem worth it, and I decided to just spend the day in Bratislava and then head home.

The benefit of this is that I was able to take some nice pictures of Slovak advertisements. Here is one for the "Hot-Cat", which is like a hot dog but has hot mustard instead of ketchup and is made from cat instead of pig:

Here is a woman making a baby out of dough, which I think is supposed to make us hungry. It succeeded, at least with me:

This woman is offering to simulate oral sex on a banana, in an attempt to dislodge her friend from his T-Mobile phone. The message: T-Mobile is addictive:

Last but not clearly not least is this ad for a Czech religious group, the "Universe People":

In case this isn't already common sense to you, the billboard clearly illustrates the structure of our world, neatly proving the connection between the founder of the group Ashtar Sheeran, J. Christ, and Ptaah, the cosmic squadron commander.

The website is superb, offering a number of highly convincing videos showing previous visits to our planet by Ptaah and his people. Also, there is an audio section that offers some great tunes which you can sing in the shower or have played at your wedding/funeral. Have a look, and enjoy your enlightment.

I Love My Landlord

2006-05-08T15:38:00.000-07:00

My landlord, Valerie, is the nicest landlord in the world. Not only does she do my laundry (for a modest fee) and clean my place (for an additional modest fee), but she also works hard to make me feel at home in this gigantic 1970's Soviet-style concrete slab.

For instance, soon after I moved in, she put this on the wall across the hall from my front door:

Some people have speculated that it is meant to signal to the other tenants that "The American lives on this floor, do not anger him or he will shoot you in the face with his chest-high gun." However, I think she put it there as a way to say to me "Have a nice day, American cowboy person, and please don't shoot me!" every time I leave my apartment.

Valerie will often change the plants in the apartment, which doesn't really do much for me because I didn't even notice there were any plants in the apartment until a couple of months ago when they all started to die. She also changes the magnets on the fridge, and rotates in a series of pictures of Key West. All of her efforts really make the place more pleasant, which is a significant factor in her being my all-time favorite landlord.

But the coup de grâce, the thing that put her over the top, was when I noticed that she had put this on the big potted plant in the living room:

I don't know how long it's been there, but after closer inspection I knew exactly what it was:

God I miss Alf.

Great Moments in Education

2006-05-04T06:27:00.000-07:00

In my Conversational English "class" I require that each of my students give a 5-10 minute presentation, using only a note card, about some facet of U.S. culture that interests them.

I love my 3rd-years, along with all of my students, and they seem to be the most energetic group even though their class starts at 6:30. However, most of their presentation topics have been incredibly banal (in fairness, I didn't say that the topics had to interest me). So far I have heard about Coca-Cola (did you know Fanta was made by Nazis?), Mickey Mouse, Walt Disney (who was presented as a saint, ask me sometime about the "dude ranch" story), Elvis, "Friends", Madonna, the amazing coincidences between the $20 bill and 9/11 and Mount Rushmore. One girl did talk about Japanese comic books, which was thought-provoking, but now that I think about it had nothing to do with the U.S.

Yesterday, one of my 3rd-year students gave the most notable presentation yet. For almost forty minutes she discussed "Sex and the City". Her way of presenting the topic was by going through each character that had any role whatsoever and telling us everything that had happened to them during the six seasons the show aired. It was hypnotic, and I almost chewed clear through my pen without realizing it. The money quote had to be about Miranda, which I offer you verbatim, "After Steve suffered through the loss of testicle, she showed her sensitivity by preparing him a night of sexual pleasures."

I'm gonna miss this job.

Soon, Croatia pictures, if I can get my darn internet working!

Bosnia

2006-05-02T18:00:00.000-07:00

After Serbia, we went to Bosnia, another former piece of old Yugoslavia. I loved Bosnia in a major way. It really has more natural beauty than almost any country I have been to, and I've been to like 10 of them. It reminded me of Tennessee, if Tennessee was a Muslim country.

Bosnia is the first "Muslim" country I have ever been to, and it was very interesting. But not particularly "foreign" in any way. If you took West Virginia, changed the churches to mosques, got rid of the banjos and the baseball caps and threw a few veils on random women, you would have Bosnia.

To enter Bosnia we crossed a very old bridge. The border guard on the Bosnian side was very nice, and to celebrate we decided to have some lunch.

We ate at a place overlooking the river. I ordered this local Bosnian beer:

This was one of the worst beers I've ever had, and I can't really remember why. I would recommend the "Sarajevsko" beer if you're in the area, but otherwise you could maybe partake in some juice.

I also ordered the "mixed grill". Does anyone actually care what I ate? I'm just going to pretend that you do:

It was very meaty, but you might notice on the upper-left part of the plate (to the left of the lettuce)(click to zoom-in!) a piece of liver. I bit into this without thinking, and almost hacked it onto the four guys sitting at the table in front of me who looked to be clearly involved in local leg-breaking. I hate liver, but I realize that it's very healthy, so please don't let me influence you kids out there. Eat that liver!

After the pit-stop it was back in the car, for the three-hour drive to Sarajevo. Here's some pics from the road, which give a hint of the massive amounts of prettiness in Bosnia:

There was also quite a bit of unfortunate un-prettiness, much of it due to recent history:

The E.U. is working to fix this, or so this sign said:

We finally drove into Sarajevo at night. Sarajevo is set into the mountains, nicely laid out and stunningly beautiful. It hosted the 1984 Winter Olympics, and was where Franz Ferdinand (the guy, not the band) was assassinated, which sparked WW1 (which, historians agree, sucked). Sarajevo is more recently famous for having been under siege during the Balkan war, which I implore you to read about here. According to one of my fellow travelers, it's a miracle that Sarajevo still exists, and I'm glad it does because it's one of my favorite cities.

We stayed in a nice hostel owned by a local Bosniak (this is the actual nickname). Here is a bad shot of the room:

In the morning he made us Turkish coffee. I like Turkish coffee, but it's an acquired taste. I personally acquired it when I worked at a middle-eastern restaurant in college, where the owner and most of the kitchen staff claimed to be ex-PLO members. Those were the days:

Sarajevo is a vibrant town, with lots of tourists. Here's some pictures of the old city:

This seems like as good a place as any to continue my analysis of Balkan advertisements. Bosnia had some real winners. For instance:

Code Cigarettes: There were hundreds of ads for Code cigarettes around Bosnia, with most of them being a variation on the one below. It's sorta hard to see here, but this guy appears to be staring at his fingers. In a different ad, which I sadly was unable to get a picture of, he can be clearly seen sniffing the very same fingers. For some reason, this made me want to buy cigarettes:

ADSL Internet: This is a picture of a turtle windsurfing on concrete while checking his watch. After spending about eight minutes staring at the poster and concentrating, I realized the hidden message: ADSL Internet is fast, like a turtle windsurfing on a highway:

Club Bill Gates: Go figure.

Hot Pink: The girl from the ad in Belgrade appeared again, this time shilling things that are hot pink. I admire this woman, as she has clearly been slathered with hundreds of tablespoons of butter in order to get that "slathered with sexiness" look:

Of course we had to have lunch, so we went with a local delicacy, Burek:

As Wikipedia will tell you, if you clicked the link, Burek is "a dish originating in Turkish cuisine, but very popular in many countries in the Balkan region (especially in Republic of Macedonia, Croatia, Serbia and Montenegro and Bosnia and Herzegovina), probably spread during the Ottoman Empire." It was tasty, like a meat baklava, if you need a point of reference. You can order it by the kilo, which we did. But only one kilo.

Finally we decided to take off for our next destination, Mostar. On the way out of town you can see many hastily made and extremely full graveyards, which are a sad reminder of the incredible devastation that occurred in the area so recently. Sorry to be a bummer:

On the way to Mostar, we stopped at the gas station where I decided to use the little boy's room. This gave me a great opportunity to take a picture of the following, commonly known as a " Turkish Toilet":

As I was traveling with Europeans, my criticisms of the Turkish Toilet were met with hostility. They claimed that the Turkish Toilet was more sanitary, as you had nothing to sit on, and that it was also more natural. I countered with the facts that A. I couldn't get any reading done and B. I am not a dog. A mild culture war ensued, and a stalemate was reached, and I waited until we got to the next toilet. Here's some insightful articles on European toilet issues, if you find yourself with a wealth of free time.

I also bought some "Snips" which tasted like peanut cheese-puffs. We composed a song about Snips, which is just the Chipsy song with the word "Snips" substituted for "Chipsy":

That afternoon we got to Mostar and took a walk around the city. It was the sight of heavy fighting between the Bosnians and the Croatians, and is still occupied by NATO forces. Here's some buildings that were shot up, to use poor English:

Mostar is most known for it's Old Bridge, which was completely destroyed during the war and then rebuilt:

The bridge and the area around it are a UNESCO World Heritage site, unlike my apartment here in Slovakia:

From what I have heard the people on the two sides of the bridge are still very pissed, and the NATO forces may have to stay for quite some time because if they leave the violence will break out again. Remind you of anywhere? I saw this on the Bosnian side of the bridge:

Here are some shots of Mostar, it really is comely (needed a synonym of beautiful, got this from the online dictionary, hope you liked it!):

We stopped on the Croatian side at a cafe, and I had an Orangina. I love Orangina, which is hard to find in the U.S. I wanted to link this to an Orangina fan site, but I couldn't find one after searching for 2 seconds. That makes me sad, this drink deserves more credit:

While we were enjoying our beverages, this youngster stood on the bridge, preparing to jump. During the summer many people jump from the bridge into the river, but the water must have been cold in April, and the guy eventually seemed to chicken out. I don't blame him:

In summation, Bosnia is great, with some of the best natural scenery in all of Europe. Check it out if you are in the neighborhood. After this, we were onto Croatia and the sea. I sure needed some fish...

Serbia (but not Montenegro)

2006-04-26T18:00:00.000-07:00

After driving through Hungary and spending a night on the border, we woke up early (11:00) and headed into Serbia. Here's the border:

To answer that age old question "Where did Yugoslavia go, it had such a cool name": Serbia and Montenegro.

Unbeknownst to me and everyone else in the car, the country of Serbia and Montenegro is in fact the remains of the nation of Yugoslavia, which ran into some tough times in the mid-90's. Here's a refresher for you all on the events of the Civil Wars, which could aptly be described as a "massive bummer". Serbia officially stopped using the name Yugoslavia a few years ago, but their web addresses all end in .yu, so there you go (hidden pun).

Once we got over the border we headed to our destination for the night, the capital city of Belgrade .

The roads were pretty good, with a collection of interesting vehicles:

One thing that was notable was the quality of Serbian (and Balkan, frankly) (hell, all of Eastern Europe) driving. I don't know if it relates to some type of deep-seated death wish that drivers in this region share, but I tell you people right now that the drivers around here are crazy. They have no problem with passing on blind curves, and I've seen 18-wheelers try to do this, notice another 18-wheeler coming in the opposite direction, and then have to swerve back into their lane at the last second while almost killing whoever now occupied their space. On mountain roads. This photo is a great illustration of Serbian highway fun, note that this is a two lane highway with only one lane each way:

The drivers here drive like I did in high school, and those of you who knew me in high school realize what a damning criticism this actually is.

As we entered Belgrade we saw this building, which for some reason I thought was just fascinating:

Belgrade, and Serbia in general, is very nice, with a mix of old and very old with some new thrown in. Let me take you on a tour of Belgrade without you having to leave your computer screen or put on pants.

First of all, we stayed at the TIS Hostel Belgrade, which I highly recommend to people planning to stay in a Belgrade hostel.

We started the day by walking down the main street towards the big church and the castle, which are must-haves for any European city worth its salt. Here's some pictures of people on the street:

On the way we came across some great advertisements. I think my obsession with European ads is eclipsing my obsession with small animals, which is itself frightening in its force. Here are some excellent ads I saw:

The Burger Ad: This guy is awesome. And sprouts on a burger? Awesome. Go America!

Ooops!!!/Tota!!y Sexy: Both of these ads are gems on their own, so to find them together was sublime. I think the one on the left should be the new ad campaign for the Plan-B pill. The girl from the "Tota!!y Sexy" poster would pop up again in my trip, stay tuned!!!

Chipsy, the bee-hive shaped chip/person: Chipsy is a Serbian brand of potato chips, and you can find them in a huge number of flavors, including a tasty tzatziki. I don't have a picture handy, but Chipsy has a logo which we all fell in love with, a happy bee-hive-shaped thing with white gloves. Behold the Chipsy!

We got so into Chipsy Mania that we even composed a song entitled "Chipsy". The chorus goes something like:

Chipsy, Chipsy
You're so Gold and Happy
Don't leave me for another potato
And stop being so salty

It's coming along. We also wrote a song called "Socks and Shoes", which begins thusly:

Have you heard the news?
Socks and Shoes.

Bit of a work in progress. Look for the album to "drop" soon.

This next ad will illustrate an important point about Serbia, which is that most of the writing is in the Cyrillic alphabet. You may remember these letters from watching "Rocky 4", but let me refresh your memory with this frightening ad about who knows what:

Soon thereafter we arrived at the very nice Tashmajdan park which is in front of the aforementioned and mandatory big church, St. Mark's Cathedral (thanks to Srdjan for the info). In the park we witnessed the first of approximately 7,000 stands devoted to selling honey:

We also walked around the cathedral, which is beautiful. You'll have to trust me, because the only picture I got of it is of a nice little girl asking this dude for change:

The next stop on the march to the castle was the capitol building. Serbia has a beautiful capitol building, as you can plainly see here:

It is also, to the best of my knowledge (I haven't googled this), the only capitol to have large statues of men seemingly having sex with horses, and vice-versa, in front of the building. But don't quote me on this. I'm also not the first person to have remarked on this issue:

Next, it was lunch at some seafood place with life preservers all over the wall. I had some pasta, and someone else had a t-bone:

Finally, full of sustenance, we knew it was castle time. A very nice park surrounds the grounds, and because the weather was great it seemed like much of Belgrade was out enjoying the sun. I took a few photos of a genre I could grow to love, "Children on Weapons":

Here's a couple pictures of the castle grounds, which in all seriousness are great (the grounds, not the pictures):

What was really nice was the view you could get from the cliffs on the edge of the park. These pictures don't do it justice at all, it really is a great scene and if you are in Belgrade you must check it out:

Then this dog played with this ball, which kept me mesmerized for over ten minutes:

That night we hit the town. Belgrade has many nice cafes, bars, and whatnot:

In an underground passage, I saw this guy selling rabbits. When I took a picture of it he called me a nasty name. My feelings, however, we unharmed:

The next morning we headed out of town, which is when I saw the following things, which I would rank as the "most interesting things I saw in Belgrade". These buildings had been destroyed by the NATO bombing. I was told the second building is the remains of the Chinese Embassy (remember when we "accidentally" bombed it?), but who even knows. I know I don't.

Serbia was great, and I was bummed to leave. More people should visit. However, we had to move on to Bosnia, which is a whole different story... (suspense, I hope)

Balkan Spring Break

2006-04-25T14:00:00.000-07:00

I went to the Balkans for Spring Break. While I was there, I took many pictures. This time there was less food and more cats, not sure why, perhaps I am maturing.

Here's a map of the route we took:

It should be clear why I was held back a year in kindergarten (art deficency/social skills)(maybe that wasn't actually clear from the map).

We set out on a Thursday with nothing but our wits, a Renault, too much luggage and about fifty maps:

There was the driver/car-owner J.C., the spunky and snippy V2, and the must have member of the group, V1:

And I was there, but you already knew that.

On a 1-10 fun scale, with 10 being just way too much fun, I put this trip at a 14. I plan on writing about each of the places we went, because I have some free time, because I plan on basically just showing movies for the last four weeks of class (I'm hoping the extended version of "Apocalypse Now" takes two weeks). I must also note that many of these pictures (the good ones) were in fact taken by V1, who has the magic eye and actual creative ability. I hope you enjoy it as much as I hope you enjoy it.

HANDY LINKS:

1. Serbia
2. Bosnia
3. Croatia Part I
4. Croatia Part II
5. Hungary
6. Animals

Hi From The Road

2006-04-20T01:43:00.000-07:00

I am currently in Zagreb, Croatia, at a youth hostel waiting for three very nice French people to take their showers.

Last night I went to a party at the Zagreb university dorms. The party was being thrown by a local student who won 200 euros on the Croatian version of ˝The Weakest Link˝. I drank a lot of Fanta.

And the Balkans are rad. I have to go now to eat my complimentary continental breakfast, which is juice.

Return to Budapest

2006-04-10T02:00:00.000-07:00

It's great living in East Slovakia, especially now that the weather is warming, the birds are singing, and the old ladies are peeling off a couple layers of babushkas. Sometimes, however, you just have to get out and go somewhere big, somewhere where you can get Indian food with meat in it and not be stared at for having red hair. From where I am, the cheapest and the closest place to go is Budapest, so last weekend me and the Vi headed south for some urban fun.

I've already been to Budapest a couple of times, and written about it here, but this time I took more pictures of water and less of food.

Why water? Because last week, due to the melting snows in the mountains, the Danube flooded and severely dampened large parts of the Czech Republic, Slovakia and Hungary. I took these pictures of the Budapest waterfront, if you look close you can see the street signs for the road that used to run next to the river, and now runs in the river:

It's election season in Hungary, I think the Socialists vs. the non-Socialists, and there are huge poorly-airbrushed posters all over town for the different candidates. Would you rather vote for this guy:

or Dr. Szabo Zoltan?

Although looks can be deceiving, I would guess that if you don't vote for Dr. Zoltan he will personally come to your house and break your kid's fingers.

We stayed in a very nice hostel with a balcony. If you stood on the balcony and took pictures they would look like this:

It was also the first legitimately warm and sunny day of the year in Central Europe, so we went up to the castle in Buda and put our feet on the grass. It was very refreshing. These are feet:

By the castle they sell tons of touristy frippery. I was at first drawn to the Queen, Rolling Stones and Britney Spears Russian nesting dolls that were available:

But after a quick look around I found the much more enticing Bill Clinton, Saddam Hussein, Bin Laden and "Matrix" ones, which probably have more long-term collectability:

Later we ended up in a nice restaurant, looking for a cold beverage:

We ordered, and when the drinks hadn't arrived twenty minutes later I became curious, and went to see what was what. It ended up that our waiter was busy out front putting pieces of fruit on someone's windshield. That's Hungarian service for you:

And most importantly, Liza is coming to town:

So that's Budapest in a nutshell, or as Hungarians say, in a dióhéjban.

Tomorrow is the start of Easter break at school, which lasts a week and a half. I'll be headed by car to the beaches of Croatia, through Bosnia and Serbia. The CIA seems to recommend the trip, as long as I don't spend too much time wandering around in orchards. If I run into any unexploded ordnance, landmines, or localized political violence I will do my best to get a picture of it, and if I don't make it back than my regular readers can split my CD collection (I'm looking at you, Grandmas!). Happy Bunny Day!

Vyprazany Dinosaur

2006-04-07T15:20:00.000-07:00

I went to the new Italian restaurant in town last night, and discovered that the owner/chef was actually Italian, from Sicily. He offered fried dinosaur with french fries on the kids menu:

If you're interested, I had the lasagna. It was saucy.

Maybe I'm in a bit of a rut, blog-wise.

Prudie

2006-04-05T17:11:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been more acutely aware of my limitations not only as a human being but as an English teacher, and have resorted to an unorthodox tactic to try to get my students to talk to me. I have been, almost weekly, assigning them the "Dear Prudence" advice column from Slate.com.

Prudence (or "Prudie", to her circle of fans at the home) tackles the tough issues of the day, such as the following, which was a student favorite (to the extent that they have a favorite):

Dear Prudie,
I have a fiance who has an anxiety problem for which he takes medication. He wants to bring his guitar with him on our honeymoon because he said since he can't bring his piano (he's a classically trained pianist), he needs some instrument to play. He said that he needs the guitar or else he will feel anxious, because he would not have any instrument to practice. It irks me to no end that if he doesn't have an instrument and he's sharing company with me, that's what he's focusing on even though we're watching TV or at dinner, etc. When we have gone away for a weekend and he has not brought his guitar, he drinks instead. He does not get drunk, but he does drink enough over time that the alcohol keeps him from "performing." Is it selfish to want to have my honeymoon with just my husband and not have him leaving to go to another room to practice for a couple hours? I want undivided attention! Yet, I don't want to have him drinking and not able to perform, nor yearning to play an instrument while he is with me. Shouldn't I be enough, at least for our honeymoon?

—Feeling Not Important Enough

Here's Prudie's advice, a little harsh in my opinion:

Dear Enough,
You sound like more than enough for any occasion. What do you want your fiance to do—spend the honeymoon looking deep into your eyes, contemplating the loathing he finds there? From your description, you are about to marry a man you can't stand, who is coping the best he can with an anxiety disorder for which you have no sympathy. You can't even bring yourself to say you enjoy his music. Break off the engagement, and let him find a music lover with more heart.

—Prudie

Damn.

The students and I shared a deep conviction that we just didn't care, but nonetheless I had to press them on issues of drinking, compromise and "performance", in order to fill the hour and a half. Did I tell you that classes here are an hour and a half?

Sometimes in Conversational English class things deteriorate to the point that I just open up the floor to any questions they might have about anything, as if I was the Delphic Oracle. Their questions are generally good, and I almost never have an answer. For example:

1. Q: Why is there a high school in Colorado that doesn't have any windows?
A: Have you been to Colorado? Yes? Did you like it?

2. Q: Why do Americans order three hamburgers and a large fry at McDonald's and then order a diet coke?
A: (Long pause) Because the burgers and fries are fattening?

3: Q: Why do Texans not ride their bikes everywhere if it is so warm there?
A: Do you like Texas? Have you ever eaten chili?

4: Q: Why does America think it can tell every other country what to do?
A: Why do you think?

You see my general strategy, which can tack on an additional 20 minutes to the class. Throw in about fifteen 30-second long uncomfortable silences, and you've got some grade-A English instruction going on.

So anyway, if you know of any interesting articles on the internet that I could use to spark some vigorous discussion, please send them my way. I will gladly split my salary with you, although potatoes do have some difficulty getting through customs.

Sorry I don't have any other pictures.

Burgers!

2006-04-03T18:27:00.000-07:00

Alas, burgers. If you're tired of these posts always being about dogs and food, let me suggest that you stop here and perhaps wait until next week’s post.

Last weekend was the long-promised burger cookout. I don’t remember the last time people had so much fun at a party, and I’ve been to literally tens of parties in over three countries.

The gathering was graciously hosted by the indispensable Virka, who in addition to being preternaturally attuned to the rhythms of the charcoal grill was also kind enough to have rented an apartment with a balcony, therefore allowing this whole thing to go down:

Slovaks are not really into BBQ'ing (perhaps for good reason), and they're really not into burgers, as their main exposure to the patties has been at the overpriced Mc'D's. I thought that if I gave them something thick, juicy, and slathered in BBQ sauce, I could sway them to our side.

The first thing I needed was a grill, which I scored on the cheap from the local supermarketstore:

They didn't have any lighter fluid, but the salesperson sold me on the "Firebrand Gel", which seemed to come from a government napalm-decommissioning program:

The next ingredient, which is crucial to my family's burger recipe, is the meat. I found these in the back of the cooler at the local food emporium:

This is in fact ground beef, in the sense that it is part of a cow which has been ground up. One minor difference between Slovak and American ground beef is that Slovaks are hearty enough that it isn't necessary to remove the little chips of bone that you inevitably find in a cow. This can be a shock during your first bite of the burger, but it's nothing an oral surgeon can't fix. The verdict on the meat:

Also, in a fit of jingoism, I proposed putting these nifty flags in the burgers, mostly because Mom bought them for me, and it's a burger. I was swiftly overruled by basically everyone at the gathering, which may have something to do with current U.S. foreign policy:

And don't forget the BBQ sauce, which I had to smuggle in my pants through E.U. customs. I am not a big K.C. Masterpiece fan, but the locals just loved it:

Some other important things to note which I didn't get a picture of:

1. I couldn't find any hamburger buns, because the one store in town that has them was sold out, so I had to use slices of dark rye bread.

2. Using a BBQ on the balcony of a Slovak high-rise is not "prohibited", but seems to break numerous social norms, because the Slovaks in attendance were shocked that the neighbors never busted down the door while brandishing a blade.

3. My "Ranch Dressing Theory", which draws heavily from Francis Fukuyama's essay "The End of History", seemed to be proven true. The theory is that people of all cultures, no matter what their tastes in cuisine, would love ranch dressing if they just had a chance to try it. I brought two packets of the mix from the states, and after a cup of mayo and milk the stuff was served. As of today I have received three separate e-mails asking me how this magical sauce is made.

I am sensitive to people's needs, so there was a salad for the vegetarians:

So who showed up? Well, the Germans were nice enough to arrive first:

There was J.C. from FR, whom I believe had two burgers:

My favorite dog in the city, Lucky, also appeared, looking for raw meat:

Check the snout!

My neighbor's friend M arrived, and promptly did a very Slovak thing by insisting on doing all of the dishes, in the middle of the party:

Fun was had, that's for sure:

Later in the night I offered to make chocolate chip cookies, because I thought it would be another possible thing to stick my little flags in. They don't sell chocolate chips here, so I made some myself:

While I was out on the balcony making sure that the Firebrand Gel hadn't ignited the side of the building, someone, or perhaps many someones, ate the faux-chocolate chips, bringing that chapter of the fun to an end. However, cornflake cookies were quickly suggested, and we all got to work. The first batch was a little burnt:

But then we got the hang of it:

No one liked the cookies but me, and I was accused of being either insincere or out of touch with my own taste buds. Still, I enjoyed them, and can send you the recipe if you're curious.

I need to stop writing about food, I feel like I am typecasting myself.

And I have no idea what else to take pictures of.

Apropos of Nothing

2006-03-29T15:39:00.000-08:00

I am a bit of a collector/connoisseur of spam e-mail, and received a real humdinger today.

It was from "Dorothy", and had the following subject line: Erections are still possible Curt.

Who's Curt?

As for Slovakia news, Spring has sprung!

P.S.

Out of curiosity, does anyone ever look at the links?

Banksa B

2006-03-27T17:10:00.000-08:00

Last weekend I headed to the town of Banská Bystrica in Central Slovakia, in the Hron River Valley which is high in the mountains , according to the city website. Here is a picture of mountains to emphasize this point:

I made this grueling three and a half hour journey to attend the birthday gathering of a member of the program, Michael S. Here's him:

The party was superb. Little toasts were served:

There was also an incredible spread of crackers, cheese, olives, some vegetables and a mangled pineapple. I ate about 14 deviled eggs, because I assumed it would be quite some time until my next helping:

The whole gang was there, and now they are here:

Also in attendance was this young lady, an incredible opera singer and in my opinion the future queen of the United States:

To culturally enhance the gathering my closest friends from Gaul attended, and were nice enough to either enjoy or pretend to enjoy the hor's douvres, thereby granting them the coveted French seal of cuisine approval:

I would be lying if I said I didn't have fun, and exaggerating if I said it was the greatest party I've ever been to. Some of us chipped in and got Michael this gift, which according to the lady at the shop bestows good fortune upon its owner:

It was a hoot and a half, but soon we were all off to bed to prepare for a big day of sightseeing in Banska B.

Saturday!

Now in the light of day we were able to get a good look at Michael's surroundings, thanks to the light. We immediately noticed the ski jump in his backyard:

Not only that, but this house down the street clearly qualifies for most funky in the E.U. Did this person paint a large, 3-D cigarette on the front of their house? Yes they did:

A bit down the road we came to the Museum of the Slovak National Uprising:

If you are too busy to read the above link, I will summarize. The Nazis (from Germany) took over Czechoslovakia, and some people in Banska B thought they were jerks. Some of them got guns and were like "get out of my face", and then many of them were shot by Nazis, thereby proving that the Nazis were jerks. For more information please click on the above link.

Enough history! Do you like Massive Attack? Enough to go see them in Bratislava?

Finally we entered the beautiful square of Banska B, which I have to admit is perhaps even more beautiful than my beloved P-town.

One of the first things we saw in the square was this, which sparked a furious debate on the following topic: Do birds have penises?

After typing the query "Do birds have penises" into Google, I had my answer.

Banska B was one of the most fiercely pro-communist cities in Slovakia, so I was told, and this monument might be evidence of that. Fill in your own splenetic remark, and win a prize!:

Next it was off to the really nice cemetery behind the church, which was being visited by a steady stream of locals. Here's some pics:

I was delighted to see that the local Banska B'ites liked N.W.A. so much that they felt the need to declare it on the wall of their cemetery. I personally prefer Eazy-E, but don't tell Ice Cube I said that. He'd be pissed:

Side note: In Europe they have lots of Capri Sun, such as this German version I found in the snow:

Do we still have Capri Sun in the U.S.? Do you remember Shasta? This person does.

After walking around for almost twenty minutes, not including about ten minutes of just kinda standing there, I was famished. So we headed off to eat at the local Red Lobster:

Much to my chagrin, this was not the Red Lobster we know, love and have occasionally received trichinosis at, but a local version. This meant that I would not be receiving any of the world-famous and insanely delicious Red Lobster Cheese Garlic Biscuits, although I guess I could make them myself. Instead I ordered the giant halusky with pork, which went down like a dream, to mix metaphors:

After all this walking and eating, we were bushed and eventually hit the hay.

Sunday!!!

The next morning we were treated to an extremely excellent and American breakfast of chocolate chip covered pancakes, courtesy of two very kind folks, Michael D.R. and Susan D.R. (AKA Suzy Q). Wait, I forgot to tell you about the 4 hour game of Uno I was involved in. I don't want to get off track, here are the pancakes:

The D.R.'s home, which they are renting for the year, is very nice, and furnished with great stuff like these Russian nesting dolls and an antique reel-to-reel which must be worth a fortune:

A great weekend was had by all, and I am still full.

It looks like this coming weekend will be the date of the much anticipated "Hamburger Party" which I have been promising the locals for months. I know where to get the meat, the buns, the grill and the charcoal, and I have been hoarding BBQ sauce under my bed. Will it all come together in the end? Tune in next week and see! If you care!

More Presov Restaurant Reviews

2006-03-22T20:18:00.000-08:00

For your benefit this last week I spent an inordinate amount of time in local restaurants, instead of staying home and eating my now regular meal of bread, string cheese and perhaps an apple. Consider this the Zagat's of Presov, at least until the actual Presov Zagat's is released.

Fiezda Restaurant

Fiezda is located directly across the street from school, and is akin to "The Max" from "Saved by the Bell". Opinions on the Fiezda vary, with proposals to go there for lunch eliciting everything from shouts of joy and high-fiving all the way to whimpering and shrieks of terror. I personally think it is O.K., but I generally eat bread and string cheese (see above), so I guess my opinion is perhaps compromised.

Food: The menu at Fiezda changes regularly, I think, or it is also possible that I forget what is on the menu and am constantly surprised. It leans toward standard Slovak fare, with three different preparations of Vyprazany Syr, as seen here:

If I had a gun to my head and had to recommend something, I would go with the chicken thingy which comes with a pile of coleslaw. I never liked coleslaw, and I don't now, but I tend to eat this particular coleslaw and not feel particularly unhappy about it for some reason.

I wouldn't recommend the fish, even though I have never had it at Fiezda. Someone told me that Slovakia is as far away from the sea as you can get in Europe. I don't have the facts on this, but I tend to believe it, especially after an unfortunate incident I had eating fish at the school cafeteria, the details of which should be available in the forthcoming edition of The European Journal of Gastroenterology.

Rating: "Abandon (some) hope, ye who enter here"

Beverages: Fiezda offers a range of coffees, beers and soft drinks. Many people come here just to drink, which makes quite a bit of sense. Here you can also find the most popular Slovak drink, in regular and citrus flavors, Kofola:

Kofola is hugely popular with the kids, who prefer it to Coke and Pepsi, which many Slovaks find to be too sweet. I often have debates about Kofola with my students, which I think tastes like a combination of corn syrup, paprika and battery acid that has been vomited upon. I hesitate to criticize the Kofola for fear of my safety, but it just isn't for me. However, if you've got to drink it go with the citrus, and get it from the tap.

Rating: 9/2 (out of 3)

Ambiance: The Fiezda is separated into the smoking and non-smoking rooms. When I eat alone I go to the non-smoking room, where I am generally by myself and am free to eat and contemplate things such as why my ATM card refuses to work in peace. If I am with another person, however, that person is inevitably European, so it is off to the smoking room.

When I read the greatly bearded C. Everett Koop's 1984 statement that smoking "is a voluntary act: one does not have to smoke if one does not want to," I immediately knew that he had never eaten at Fiezda in the smoking room. I'm trying to say that it is very smokey, albeit in a clever roundabout way. I have failed. Here is a picture:

I've actually grown used to the smoke, and have learned to live with my new emphysema. The smoking room is actually made cool by the fact that it holds the "babyfoot" table, which is foosball to you American folks:

I don't know why, but I've always had trouble calling it babyfoot like the Europeans. I think this is due to a joke I heard in grad school about a baby's arm, but I'm not sure, I'm not a psychologist.

Rating: Malignant!

Value: Not even all that cheap, with some hot fried cheese running you about 2.50. I view my trips to Fiezda as a bit of a luxury, but you can score some "American potatoes" for a buck.

Rating: 8 (out of whatever)

Service: I like one of the waiters, who dresses like Mr. Belevedere's long lost son, but the waitress is somewhat surly. Then again, most waitresses here are somewhat surly, so I guess I shouldn't complain.

Rating: Just give me the fried cheese

If this restaurant were an animal, it would be: A hamster, with a social disease.

La Cucaracha

Widely considered to be the best pizza place in town, it has two convenient locations on the main street and is named after a cockroach. Here are some pictures of the front door:

Food: The food here is generally good, although I've only had the pizza. There are some eye-catching menu items such as Argentinean something-or-other(my translation), but the pizza is the reason to go.
Like many Slovak pizza places, the Cuc offers a number of non-traditional toppings such as vajcia (egg), hrášok (peas) and morský koktejl (something about a shark). They also go pretty heavy on the corn, which I have grown to appreciate. But avoid "The Diablo", it is a real fireball.

Rating: Mouth-Pleasing

Ambiance: Depends on the Cucaracha you choose. One is upstairs in a smoke filled room with a number of pool tables and is lit like the timeout room at Abu Ghraib. The other is downstairs in what looks like a well-lit fallout shelter with wooden benches. Can't go wrong either way.

Rating: Sophie's Choice

Service: I don't remember anything particularly negative, and the Cucaracha stands out by giving those of us whose Slovak is a bit non-existant the ability to order online for home delivery. This is much appreciated. And that is also the rating, "much appreciated". This ratings conceit is becoming a bit much.

If this restaurant were an animal, it would be: A cockroach on PCP, making pizzas.

The Irish Pub

In the interest of full disclosure, I know in passing the three sisters who jointly run this fine establishment. Therefore I am somewhat biased, but you probably wouldn't trust my opinions anyway, so whatever.

The I.P. is quite a swanky establishment, and is one of only two places in town that offer Guinness. It's also where the dregs of the English-speaking world, like me, often meet, so it's a good place to run into a native speaker.

Here are some pictures of the I.P., along with pictures of the heads of the French people whom I generally go there with:

Food: I have been to the Irish Pub about five times, and have always had the same thing, so I will tell you about the aforementioned thing. It is called "The Paddy" and is essentially a piece of corn on the cob and some ribs. I think this is the only place to get ribs in town, and it reminds me of the Lenexa BBQ Battle, so I get the ribs for sentimental reasons.

The ribs are good, but they have a bit of a problem (always something). The ribs are not so much seasoned as caked in salt, to the point that I honestly get slightly chapped lips after eating them. I once even got a headache after eating the ribs, which I attributed to dehydration from the salt (and not the beers). Why do I keep eating them? Well, I like salt, although I don't like it nearly as much as Slovaks, who must win the Hypertension competition at the Cardiac Arrest Olympics quadrennially. Can you believe I just used the word quadrennially? I actually had to look it up.

They also have chicken wings, which you can order by the piece a la Hooters (not that I have ever eaten there)(but I did work there)(in the back)(not a euphemism). They look tasty, and I may give them a whirl on my next trip.

Rating: Salt Lick!

Value: One of the priciest places in town, but on the whole it's worth it, with food prepared with fancy artistic garnishes of parsley and whatnot. Good for that special night out with that special person who especially likes salt.

Rating: Cough it up

Ambiance: Nice wood paneling, a warm fireplace, and a long bar covered with Guinness mementos. If you drink enough you can make yourself believe you are at an Irish bar in any other European country, besides Ireland.

Rating: I don't know, I can't really quantify this

Service: The three sisters are always working the place in shifts, and are very friendly to us foreigners. I think part of the reason is that my friend J.C. (no relation), who I often meet at the I.P., is extremely close to the family, and is even the godfather of one of their kids. Nothing gets you good service like knowing the guy who gets good service, so good service is gotten by me. I'm tired of the ratings.

If this restaurant were an animal, it would be: Delicious

Cafe Gramola

I've never been in, I just liked the sign.

At this point in the post I would like to proposition you. Me and one of the great French filmakers of our time, the Vi, are working on making a movie, and we want you to be in it! All you need is a crappy digital camera that has a video function, and someoene to hold it for you. If you're interested in being rich, famous, and ridiculed daily on VH1 please e-mail me at Velvetwinter@gmail.com. Later Taters!

Budapest

2006-03-16T17:15:00.000-08:00

So I went to Budapest in like November, put these pictures on the site out of order and then never got the time or energy to write about my trip. I don't feel like it now, either, so I'll just write a few words for each photo and that will be that.

I took pictures of Italian people getting their picture taken:

This is the parliament Building. The parliament building is the best:

This is the inner courtyard of the hostel I stayed in. Wow!

This is my bed in the hostel.

This is an example of the Hungarian language, one of the hardest to learn in the world. Nasty!

This is a Canadian guy we hung out with. Can you believe it?

This is a Phil Collins poster. Do you know that A-Ha is one of the biggest bands in this region("Take on Me"), and that they have a greatest hits album with 18 songs? What the dilly?

These are pictures of the heavily guarded American Embassy. You never know when someone might attack the Embassy with paprika, Hungary is a dangerous place. At least it doesn't make us seem paranoid:

Another picture of the parliament. Gyönyörű!

Brown dog:

Hungarian VIP:

Bridge between Buda and Pest:

The town where we crossed the Slovak-Hungarian Border:

The flag of a certain country. You guess:

The parliament building, for the seventh time:

Now I'm exhausted. I'm working on some more local restaurant reviews, as that seems to be the only thing my two regular readers are interested in. And besides, it gives me a good reason to go to the other three places in town.

DeutschLand Part II

2006-03-15T17:52:00.000-08:00

Hello again! Before I continue recounting my fantastical adventures in Germany, I wanted to tell you about my trip last Monday to a Gymnazium in Kosice. A Gymnazium is like an American high school, and one of my colleagues asked me to talk for a bit to her friend's 4th year conversational English classes.

The 4th year of Gymnazium is their last year, and these kids have senioritis like nobody's business. I thought the visit was a wash until I received this e-mail:

My name is ____. You were on our lesson on Monday and you made me thinking about improving my speaking abilities. I've learnt English for nearly 14 years. I know english grammar quite well In my opinion but I can't speak fluently because all words I know are mixed in a second and I can't find the right one... So thanks for your coming. I hope we'll meet again. I heard that americans are selfish and stupid and so on, but all American people I've met were friendly and as we say "v pohode"(it means O.K.) . You too.

Slovak-American relations improving one e-mail at a time. Isn't it beautiful?

So back to Berlin...

Tuesday

Tuesday was a big day for me, because the conference had organized a guided tour of the Reichstag, which required me to wake up at 10(!).

The Reichstag is the seat of the German Parliament, sort of like our Capitol building if you're into forced comparisons. The history of the Reichstag is fascinating, here's a link to the popularly held belief that the Reichstag was burned by the Nazis in an attempt to take over the government. That does seem a bit like something they might do, although we really shouldn't judge.

Here's "The Stag" from the outside, as we wait in the freezing cold to enter:

I went with my friend Michael, the tour guide from the day before, who was also lucky enough to have scored a ticket for the tour. We noticed that "The Doppelganger" was there, someone who looks exactly like a guy from our program, Chuck. Here is Chuck:

And here is the Doppelganger:

2 Freaky!

Inside the Reichstag we were allowed to sit in the gallery, and we were given a lecture on its history by a very serious German guide. I also got a free pin, so I see the whole thing as a success. Here is the main chamber:

On the wall you can see the symbol of the German Federation, a big eagle. The guide made a joke about how Germans call it the "Fat Hen". Well, to be more precise, he gave us this information in the form of a joke. Without smiling.

Here is where the new Prime Minister of Germany, Angela Merkel, gives her fiery speeches denouncing things:

I would like to be a bit hypercritical for the moment and note that in my opinion, for such a wealthy and industrialized Federal Republic, the seats that the representatives have to sit on look really uncomfortable. And they're purple.

The last part of the tour took us to the roof, which is a dome designed by a very famous architect whose name I apologize escapes me. It is very shiny, as you can see, and tourists can walk to the top of the dome and see across all of Berlin (unless the top of the dome is covered in snow)(which it was)(what can you do?):

What an interesting tour! And it was like you were there, isn't this blogging thing amazing?

We then headed to lunch, and on the way I saw this cool dog. This is your dog picture for the month:

And now here's my obligatory story and picture of a meal I had. We decided to go to a vegetarian Thai place because Michael is a vegetarian, and I don't generally care what I eat as long as I can digest it (for example, no grass). We both ordered the pad thai, and we asked for it to be spicy, because when you ask for something to be spicy in Europe it is never actually spicy but you can make yourself feel like if you really wanted something spicy it would be available to you and you wouldn't have to fly all the way to Morocco and deal with all that business just to get something spicy. So of course, the food came and nearly burned off both of our faces:

You might look at the picture and have your eyes drawn to the bright red pepper, and think this was the problem. It wasn't, it was the fact that the whole thing had been doused with a sauce that was a combination of gasoline, black Chinese peppers from hell and gunpowder. We both lost the ability to speak, as we were drawn deep into our minds in order to avoid the pain, much like POWs forced to endure genital electrocution, I assume. I don't know for sure. That food was hot!

It was that we were forced by the heat to drink German beer, which is great. I didn't think I liked German beer, but after having German beer in Germany, I can say that I like it very much, and that it is "the bomb"(slang for the kids).

The Thai waiter laughed at us, which made me mad, and I will not be going back to that place again. That'll show them.

On the stroll back to the hotel I took these pictures of Berlin which illustrate, to the extent that poorly shot pictures can, how fast Berlin is growing:

We also saw some remnants of Berlin's past:

And then there was this, the funniest thing I saw in Berlin. It will give you a chance to test your translation skills:

Finally, in front of the hotel, I saw a guy with a hot dog stand on his back. Which I took a picture of:

It was a great day of sightseeing, in which many sights were seen. But I had to get to bed early because the next morning I was traveling to Hannover.

Wednesday

So I got up early and took a bullet train to Hannover to meet up with my old buddy C.S., who those of you who were involved in the Lenexa independent/garage/more specifically my parent's garage music scene circa 1995 will surely recognize as the bass player and chief lyricist of the band W.T., a combination orchestral/reggae/lawncare/swearing group that garnered much critical acclaim from people who were not overly critical. And here he is:

In his hand you can see his reason for being in Hannover, as he is a sales manager for a company that sells many types of GPS gadgets. The one he is holding is handheld (is that redundant?) and can be used to find restaurants and whatnot in whatever city you are in (except maybe Ulaan Battor)(Did I spell that right? If so, good for me).

This company sent C.S. to Hannover because it is the site of the largest electronics show in the world, CeBIT. Hannover goes crazy for CeBIT:

I had the pleasure of going to the thing the day before it opened to watch the different companies set up their booths. The convention is inside 30+ gigantic hangers, organized according to the type of product. Here's some pics:

This was an absolute orgy of electronics, if you'll pardon my language. I saw over ten different booths which seemed to specialize in AA batteries. It was all a bit overwhelming, so we headed into town to check out "the scene".

Someone had told me that Hannover was the most boring town in Germany, and I disagree, although I've only been to two towns in Germany, so who cares what I think?
Here are my most interesting pictures of Hannover:

It was a great time, and it is always a pleasure to run into C.S. on any continent. On that note, this post (the whole post!) is dedicated to the newest addition to the C.S. family, G.S., who at the age of only 9 months has learned to crawl. It took me until I was six!

Not Particularly Slovak Related

2006-03-11T16:27:00.000-08:00

Coincidence?

I'm a little bored at work.

DeutschLand Part I

2006-03-10T20:40:00.000-08:00

So last week I went to Germany to attend a conference thingy. It was a lot of fun, and I ate a lot of sausage. I took so many pictures that I have to put them into multiple posts, so here's part 1. If you want me to send you the whole kit and caboodle, e-mail me and I will send you a link.

Sunday

I took a train to Budapest and then took an EasyJet flight to Berlin. I made this Indiana Jones-style map of my trip:

Pretty nice, huh?

That night we got a free dinner at the hotel, where I loaded up on the French cheese. The German director of the program gave us an opening speech peppered with German humor, which is actually so sophisticated that very few people realize that a joke is being told. Then it was off to bed as I had a big tour of Berlin the next day...

Monday

One of my friends on the program, M.S., used to live in Berlin and volunteered to give some of us a tour. Here he is, ready to roll:

We started off at our hotel, which was located at the Alexanderplatz. Many things in Germany are a platz. I made it my mission to see as many platzes in Berlin as I could before I left:

The Alexanderplatz is in what used to be East Berlin, and is where they built one of the city's major symbols, the TV tower. It is much bigger than this picture suggests, and kind of chews up the scenery:

Next we were off to an area that supposedly used to be kind of like the Colonial Williamsburg of East Berlin, where old fashioned German architecture is presented in a theme-parky kind of way. I don't remember what it was called. It did have this nice church:

It also has a number of touristy antique shops. At one of these I found what might be the greatest item in all of Berlin, but the 140 Euro price tag was a bit too steep:

We moved along until we arrived at the sight of a very big church and a very famous museum, the names of both which I have forgotten. I have a good excuse for this, however, because this is where we ran into hundreds of Nazi soldiers:

Surprised? I guess I was a little bit too, because I figured that large gatherings of Nazi soldiers were at least frowned upon by the German government. It ends up that these were not actual Nazi soldiers from the 40's, but were instead actors who were shooting a scene for a new movie, which I assume deals with Nazis.

While I enjoyed being magically thrust back into past, with the rare opportunity to live through a fascinating period of history, I'm sure I didn't have half as much fun as the group of Neo-Nazis who were taking pictures of themselves in front of gigantic swastikas in central Berlin. I guess everyone needs a hobby.

And speaking of that big church, it was quite nice:

Then we stopped at the memorial to victims of violence:

If you think this is unfunny, and you only visit this site to be enriched by my asinine jokes about potatoes, I recommend you skip to the end because we are entering a humor and sarcasm free zone.

Here are some pictures I took at our next stop, the Holocaust Memorial. It really started to snow, which you can see in the pictures. It's a very interesting structure, and pretty powerful:

Right down the street is the remains of an SS bunker where they used to torture dissidents, which also is on a site that the Berlin wall passed through. They turned the site into an outdoor exhibit about the Holocaust and the Nuremberg trials:

One of the exhibits was about the different badges that the Nazis made people in concentration camps wear. They just didn't like anybody!

I have quite a few more pictures of these sites if you're interested. And now something to lighten the mood:

Next was the Brandenburg Gate, which made a big impression on me by being much smaller than I expected:

We had some lunch, which I somehow forgot to take a picture of, and then headed to Checkpoint Charlie. Here are the pictures of Checkpoint Charlie. (It may seem like I am phoning this in, and I am, but I am rushing to get to out the door to dinner, so please understand my lack of spelling/grammar/humor).

Following this (still awake?) we took the train to what was West Berlin, and visited this church which had been bombed in WW2. They left the roof unrepaired, perhaps to show the world what a church looks like when you drop a bomb on the roof. I always wondered:

Next to the old church they built a funky new church, which is the boxy looking thing in the foreground of the last picture covered in scaffolding. Inside they have something I can only describe as "Electric Jesus":

Of course we were hungry after this, so we stopped for German style coffee and cake. I had the "nougat" cake, mainly because I thought it would sound funny on this blog. It ends up that it doesn't:

That night we went to the "Opening Ceremonies" of the conference, which was opened by this opera signer and trumpet player:

They were very good, and must have been better than the opening ceremony of the Tourino games, which I heard on the Daily Show played 80's pop hits while the different nations entered the stadium. That's a little tacky, even for my taste.

Afterwards there was a nice cocktail thingy, where we received wine and snacks. In this picture you can see wine, snacks, and Megan, a teacher from the Czech program.

I mention Megan, and her friend Jesse, because they along with the help of their Czech colleague Karla discovered my blog even when I tried my best to keep it hidden from prying googlers. I guess it wasn't too hidden, and anyway now I can link you to their blogs, which are much better done than mine. Here is Megan , Jesse , and Karla’s blogs, focusing (in reverse order) on modern art, music and urinary tract infections, check them out. And here is Jesse, eating Indian food:

Come back next time for more action packed fun, including a man with a sausage cart on his back!

Trip to Levoca

2006-03-02T20:55:00.000-08:00

Last Tuesday the school had a bit of a complete water failure problem, which resulted in some sanitation issues and an evacuation for the day. The bright side of this was that I was invited by a colleague to take a trip to Levoca, a beautiful ancient walled city about an hour west of Presov. This is the gripping story of my journey.

Noon: We left Presov at about noon. I was a bit hungry, even though I had eaten a banana dipped in nutella and some crackers. We headed west out of town on the road to Poprad, a city high in the Tatras mountains. I chewed some gum. I brought about ten packs of Orbit Spearmint gum with me from the U.S., and am now about to run out, so each piece takes on added significance.

12:12: We pass this sign, advertising the upcoming Fugees reunion tour stop in Bratislava. Didn't know the Fugees had broken up? You are not alone:

12:35: I don't feel as hungry, as I've been occupied with constantly taking pictures out the window of snow and billboards. I am annoying the other passengers, but try to pass this off as an eccentricity. They seem to want to yell at me, but perhaps lack the gumption.

12:37: We drive past the very impressive Spišský hrad, or Spiš Castle in English. I strongly encourage you to click on the link and learn about this place, it is a gigantic castle that just kind of straddles the road to Poprad, and which used to guard the pass to the Saris region where I live from mean people brandishing swords and sticks. I really wanted to check it out, but no one wanted to stop, so instead I can only offer these pictures from the car:

This English translation from the website offers a succinct raison d'être:

The Spiš castle has a wonderful location and its architecture is worth of your time and effort.

12:48: Arrival! We entered the city through a gate in the wall, and parked in the square.

Levoca is a city that dates all the way back to the 11th Century. It's pretty incredible, with a high wall surrounding the entire place and a very nice cathedral. Here's a picture of the wall:

This next photo masterfully juxtaposes the history and majesty of the wall with good old-fashioned contemporary toilet talk:

When you arrive in the square you will first come upon this statue of one of Slovakia's most famous national heroes, Ľudovít Štúr.

Štúr, an early Slovak nationalist, is best remembered for basically founding what has become the modern Slovak language that I attempt and fail to speak today. For the record, I was told this by my guide, and did not just copy it from Wikipedia. Here are some pictures of the backstreets of Levoca, with one in which you can see my guide and his girlfriend (if you know who he is) (I have not received permission to expose his identity on the internets):

12:51: Still hungry, could go for a halusky. We get our first glimpse of the cathedral, a must have for any Slovak town worth its salt. Levoca's cathedral is very nice, and is decorated with some funky art:

12:52: Next we came across the town hall, and next to that the domed evangelical church. They were quite nice:

12:54: I chewed more gum to stave off starvation. I considered buying this, even in the face of disapproval from my fellow travelers:

I also saw this political poster, advocating the candidacy of P. Pavelko. I can't really read Slovak, but in the ad he seems to claim to be a millionaire. Good for him!

And what do you know, Levoca has it's own Cage of Shame. Remember our first Cage of Shame together? Those were the salad days:

12:58: Lunch!

We hit the Janus Restaurancia which was conveniently located in an alley behind the drugstore. I deftly ordered a local specialty, Spiš Pierogies and homemade sausage:

1:10: Finished!

The verdict?

1:25: After a tough day of sightseeing, we headed towards the car. On the way my guide pointed this out, the Marianska hora:

The Marianska hora is a famous place of pilgrimage for Catholics, and was visited by Pope John Paul II in 1995. It is also up on a hill.

2:25: Back in Presov for a nap. Exhausted.

On Sunday I am headed to Germany for the first time, to go to a teacher's thingy in Berlin. Also, if all goes well, I will be meeting Clint S, a former member of W.T., who is in the country on business. I'll be sure to bring my camera, have a neat weekend.

Presov Neighborhood Guide

2006-02-22T11:49:00.000-08:00

Many people assume that Presov is a dull industrial town, lacking pizzazz with row after row of the same grey apartment buildings and factories. In fact, Presov is made up of a patchwork of diverse neighborhoods, each with their own character, similar to Philadelphia.

Here are some of the neighborhoods that make up this vibrant town:

Downtown: The fancy part of town, with the glitter and glitz, the Soho, Picadilly or Nob Hill of Presov, take your pick. This is where the international cuisine is located (one Chinese restaurant), along with the fancy Turkish clothiers and overpriced pizza. If you're up for a big Saturday night, whether watching some theatre or hitting the discoteque with underage Slovak village girls, this is where you are headed. And don't forget to visit the big cathedral for your weekly dose of religion!

Sidlisko III: "Sidlisko" means the same thing as the British "Housing Estate", which as far as I can tell means "vaguely depressing collection of large apartment buildings". Sidlisko III is widely considered to be the nicest of the Sidliskos, with its tree-lined street and general lack of rabid animals. It is soon to be the location of Presov's first Western fast food restaurant (either McD's or B.K., I have heard both), and is also home of a winner from "Slovakia Chooses it's Own Superstar". Her apartment has already been converted into a shrine, and is visited by literally tens of pilgrims a week.

I went to Sidlisko III once, because I fell asleep on the bus. I found it to be too opulent for my tastes. Who needs grass? Still, check it out, as I have heard there is an underground disco that offers spinning classes during the day.

Sidlisko II: I considered making some things up about Sidlisko II, because I have never been there. In fact, even though it is supposedly the second largest neighborhood in Presov, I've never even met someone from there. To be honest, I'm not even sure where it is, and there's not too many places for a large neighborhood to hide around here. Let's just assume it's a nice place, with good zmrzlina.

Solivar: Solivar is on a hill overlooking Presov, and has a nice mixture of 70's apartment buildings and beautiful homes which are reputedly owned by members of the Mafia. It also has not one but two bowling alleys.

Quick digression: I am not a strong bowler by any means, having once rolled a 32 at the age of 26 while trying very hard. Here in Slovakia bowling is a new sport, with the first alley opening in Presov two years ago. Therefore I was excited to be invited by my 17 year-old neighbor to go bowling with him and his friends, as I expected to be viewed as a bowling God. I rolled what I believe to be a personal best, a 117, and I believe that I would have become a Presov legend if my neighbor didn't break 150 in his first game ever. What can you do?

Anyway, Solivar is also home to (supposedly, and I am too lazy to fact check this) one of only two operating opal mines in the world. I still haven't found this mine, but when I do I assume that I will take numerous poorly-focused pictures of it for your pleasure. In short, visit Solivar for its many attractions, it is the Disney World of Presov.

Sibirska: Sibirska, as its name suggests, is a neighborhood which is situated as far away from civilization as possible without actually being in Poland. Many of my colleagues live there, as the school went out of their way to find them the cheapest apartments in town, and they often talk of "going to Sibirska" the way I assume Solzhenitsyn talked of going to Siberia. So I never finished that book, but whatever.

Sibirska is home to some of the only sleddable hills in Presov, and is conveniently located close to my neighborhood. Check it out, but take the bus.

Sekcov/Opal: This is my hood, Sekcov, which is actually Sidlisko I. When I tell people I live in Sekcov, they look at me like I am lucky to be alive. And perhaps I am.

Sekcov, and particularly its sub-neighborhood Opal, which I live in, have a reputation for having the most "aggressive" people in Presov. I believe it. I once saw an old lady hit a skater kid with her bag. I also once saw a drunk man yell at a dog, who barked back, with no apparent winner in the debate. This is enough to make most people clear out, but I stand by my people, and tough it out in Sekcov.

I took a bunch of pictures of Sekcov, to show how we live around these parts. Let me take you on a little tour...

The Drugstore:

Every neighborhood has a drug store, or a Lekaren if you will. I've only been in one a couple times, but this was enough to realize that there is seemingly no rhyme or reason as to what requires a prescription and what doesn't. When I tried to get an Excedrin substitute, the lady seemed to think I needed a doctor's note, and I'm pretty sure that I saw sunblock kept behind the counter. On the other hand, I once saw a lady in a babushka walk out with a large bag of PCP (OK, I am lying for your entertainment, even though it is against my principles. You are welcome). I can tell you that eyedrops are more expensive here that in the States, so be sure to bring your own, and a Slovak-English dictionary to translate "itch".

The Church:

As I've mentioned before in this bloggy-thing, religion is central to most people's lives here in Slovakia. During the Communist regime going to church was allowed, but was also the quickest way to get you in the doghouse with the local government, who determined where you went to school and whether you had a job that was pleasant. Now that everyone is free to go, it seems that everyone does, and the church is often so full that people spill out onto the sidewalk. Here is the local church next to my apartment, I have nothing smarmy to say about it:

Opal:

Opal is really just a square filled with shops, where people from the neighborhood can get most of what they need. Supposedly this square can be treacherous at night, when drunken people spill out of the pub, looking for someone to raise their voice at (the Slovak version of violence). I've never seen this, but if I do, I will try to get a picture. Here is Opal Center:

Allow me to show you all that Opal has to offer:

The Gymnasium:

I was quite excited when I saw that there was a gymnasium next to my apartment, as I figured it would be useful to counteract the massive amount of pierogies I was sure to eat. For those of you who speak German, you already probably know that a Gymnasium, around these parts, is a school for kids up to about 17 years old. I assume that when I walked into the gymnasium in the middle of a warm September day, wearing running shorts and my "Fireballs" t-shirt and brandishing my budget Slovak dictionary, the staff immediately pegged me as "The American Pedophile". At least that would explain their looks of terror.

The ATM:

Also known as a bankomat, this is where I get my cash. You can see the current Slovak Koruna/U.S. Dollar exchange rate here, if you're really hard up for something to do.

The Butcher Shop (Maso Udeniny):

In each neighborhood you also have a number of butcher shops, each which are stocked with 78 types of salami, a piece of a pig's ass and possibly a live chicken. What they don't seem to have, to my great consternation, is ground beef. I have been promising many people a "hamburger party" in the coming weeks, due to my acquisition of K.C. Masterpiece BBQ sauce back home and subsequent discovery of decent buns at the mini-Tesco on Hlavne Street. The fly in the ointment is the lack of beef at the butchers, and my inability to find a good translation of the word "ground" or impress on the nice lady at the shop my desire for "the kind of meat that McDonald's uses". I may have to go to Hungary to get it, but I will, because like St. Patrick bringing the gospel to Ireland I will make these people some burgers cooked on a charcoal grill.

As a fun way to better understand my situation, get a partner and play charades with the clue being "ground beef".

Dueling Potravinies:

A Potraviny is a smallish grocery store, akin to a large bodega, in which you can buy staple foods and perhaps some strange Ukrainian candy. In Opal you have your choice of two, the Milk Agro and the CBA, both of which have their devotees. I tend not to admit favoring one or the other in conversation with the locals, because deep seated prejudices can flare to the surface, and you can quickly find yourself being spoken to loudly.

First we have the Milk Agro:

Although the Milk Agro is smaller than CBA, they have fresher bread and a never-ending supply of Saris Tmave dark beer. They also have cooler-looking grocery bags which are less likely to break. They do not have much of a selection of produce, but as you will see this is not always a bad thing...

The CBA has a couple things going for it, a larger store and more stuff. The downside to keeping so much stuff around, I assume, is that it is harder to keep track of it, especially to be sure that your food is not being infested with vermin. At the risk of a libel suit, I will recall my first visit to CBA, where I came upon the produce section which consisted of random pieces of fruit lying on the ground, some clearly around since the Meciar Government (Slovak joke), emanating a most un-fruit like smell. This was a bit of a turn-off even for me, someone who follows the five-hour rule when eating food that has fell on the floor. I assume it was just a bad day.

In CBA's favor, however, they have some great frozen pierogies, and I once saw Mountain Dew on the shelf.

Verdict: Milk Agro!

The Posta:

Here is my local branch of the Post Office, Posta #8. In Slovakia the Post Office does it all, you can buy almost anything from boxes and lotto tickets to phone cards. You can bring in your envelope and they will weigh it and stamp it for you, and you can also pay your bills. It is extremely convenient, and the employees almost never fly off the handle and blow each other away.

The Homemade Wine Place:

As you might expect, the homemade wine place usually serves up to six different types of homemade wine out of wooden casks set into the wall and is a staple of each neighborhood. The wine from my local place is quite good, and two bucks will get you some "German-style" red wine in a relatively cleaned out two-liter plastic bottle which used to hold Slovak Cola. I would recommend pairing it with meat, cheese and potatoes. And maybe bread.

The Absolutely Fantastic Bistro Pizzeria:

The Bistro Pizzeria, the local Opal pizza joint, has in my opinion the best pizza in town, hands down. Here people each order their own pizzas, and tend to finish them, even though size-wise they are comparable to a Papa John's large. Each pizza at the Bistro comes with at least two heads of garlic and enough grease to kick-start even the most stubborn or aged digestive system. I say without pause that this stuff is awesome, go with the olive pizza, which is in fact topped with capers.

The inside looks like a typical "Ye Old Pizza Place" in anytown-USA, with numerous neon beer signs and a T.V. which blasts the local Team Handball matches (Go HC Tatran!!!). Your waitress, invariably named Flo-ka, strikes the perfect balance between worldly, surly, and confused by your attempts to order in English. Run, don't walk, or call for take-out.

Expresso Fama:

I don't know if this is a coffee place or a slot-machine bar, I have never been, but I had to get rid of this picture.

This Place:

It appears to sell wooden versions of the Burger King crowns, perhaps in anticipation of the newly opening Burger King (or perhaps McDonald's) in town. Let me know if you want me to send you one, it'll give me a reason to go inside.

In Summation: Sekcov is the best neighborhood ever.

Pictures of Frozen Water

2006-02-17T14:40:00.000-08:00

I know there have been some big snowstorms in the U.S. recently, but don't count Slovakia out of the "worst weather in the world" competition. It has been snowing hard here for a solid week, and by my estimation we have received close to 400 inches in the last 15 minutes. I am in a constant state of dampness.

I took these pictures of my snowy neighborhood, and I figured I would dump them on you:

Tonight I am going to buy a sled and some schnapps, and hit the hills in the dark, Lenexa-style. Wish me luck, and luckily there is a hospital across the street.

Slovakia plays the U.S. in hockey on Saturday, you should check it out. I am conflicted. I hope they both win because they are both winners, as are all of you.

Po-Land

2006-02-15T16:14:00.000-08:00

So last weekend I went to Krakow, Poland, which I had heard was really nice and pretty and whatnot. Poland is actually less than 100 kilometers from where I live, and I have been meaning to go for quite some time.

Some quick info about Poland: It is much bigger than Slovakia, with eight times more people, and it is colder. It has been jerked around by its neighbors quite a bit, and it has also jerked itself around from time to time. This is what I remember from college, I hope it is accurate.

Krakow is in Southern Poland, close to the Slovak border. You would think that this would make it easy to reach from my location in Northern Slovakia. You would be extremely wrong.

On this journey I was joined by the irreplaceable travel guide/food critic/semi-speaker of several Slavic languages, Vi. Here she is on the train from hell:

Although Krakow is less than a three-hour drive from Presov, there is no bus service, only the train. In addition, only one train a day goes to Krakow, on the Bucharest-Krakow line. This train leaves Presov every night at 11:59, and takes six hours to get to Krakow. Here's the schedule.

Normally, a night train ride over the snowy Tatras mountains would be nice. There are little benches in the train cars, and you can use your coat as a pillow. The problem, however, stems from the train's heating system, which I'm sure was designed by Soviet political prisoners in the 30's.

In each car there is a crank which is supposed to control the temperature. In fact this only can cause the temperature to go from "hot" to "hellish", and is best left untouched. Instead, a traveler must devise their own climate control system, which for me involved waking up every ten minutes in a puddle of my own sweat and opening the window as wide as it could go. Next, I would fall back asleep until the snow whipping through the window into the car piled so high onto my sleeping face that I started to suffocate. At this point, I would close the window and repeat. If you do happen to go into shock and pass out, finally allowing you to sleep, you will still be awoken repeatedly by the ticket agents/drunken backpackers/angry Polish border guards every twenty minutes.

While this might seem exciting to some, I thought it was a real drag, and by the time we reached the station in Krakow I experienced the unique sensation of suffering from both dehydration and hypothermia at the same time.

Nevertheless, it was nice to be in Krakow, which is a beautiful city. We only had a day and a half, so I wasn't able to make it to fun nearby places such as the concentration camps, but I plan on going back in April. Krakow is pretty much just a square, albeit a very nice one, and an impressive palace. We mostly just hung around the center, here are some pictures:

It's been snowing forever around these parts, which gave everything a winter-wonderland kind of feel:

Because it was so cold, we tried to do mostly indoor things. We visited the Theatre Museum, watched "Proof" at the movie theatre, which was good, and saw this modern art exhibition, "Identity":

I also saw a cool dog:

I admit this entry sucks, I didn't get many decent pictures and spent most of the time in Poland either freezing or exhausted. One interesting thing about the Polish language is that it seems almost the same as Slovak, only with a lot more Z's. One interesting thing about Krakow is that many stores sell Cherry Coke.

Here in Presov the snow is really piling up and I am preparing for the beginning of the spring semester next week. I have been assigned to teach a class called "Contemporary USA" to 4th year students, although they haven't told me what the class is supposed to be about. If anyone has ideas about what to teach, let me know, or even better you can come and do a guest lecture on the topic of your choice.
Catch you later.

Velké Bílovice

2006-02-10T16:00:00.000-08:00

Hello! This last week I was staying in a town called Velké Bílovice, a little village 40km from the Slovak border in the Czech Republic. This was my first time back to the Czech Republic, not counting the Prague airport (great creampuffs), since I visited in 2000. It is still cold, but fun, and I took a bunch of pictures.

First, a little info about the Czech Republic. It has about twice the population of Slovakia, a much stronger economy, and is know for being more socially progressive. It is also the home of Prague, which everyone thinks is just great.

I went to Velké Bílovice to attend a conference for my program, in which the participants from Slovakia and the Czech Republic meet up and discuss their experiences. We stayed at a nice little place called the Hotel Akademie.

Here's some random pics of the town:

When we first arrived, we were paired up two to a room. I got put with my friend Michael, who is a teacher in Banska Bystricia in Slovakia. He probably wouldn't want everyone to know this, but he has a retainer and reads books about dragons. Here is proof:

At first the Slovak and Czech groups stayed separate, due to the fact that no matter how many years ago you graduated from high school the default human instinct is to make cliques. At least that is my amateur sociological perspective, and I did take a sociology course in high school where we watched "Clockwork Orange". Soon however we started to mingle:

Each of us had to give a 15 minute presentation on what we've been doing in our host countries. Before these began our coordinator Nora gave a talk. Nora is the most helpful person in the world, and I would give her my kidneys. Nora has our back, and if you hurt one of our feelings, she will come to your home and cut you. We love Nora:

First up for the presentations was Mikey D, who is a chemistry professor in a small town in Slovakia. He gave his presentation on an overhead, which gave me flashbacks to Mr. Coulter's trig class:

I personally enjoyed his talk, but it was a bit over my head. Perhaps it is more up your alley:

Next was Richard M, an engineering professor from Chicago who teaches a half-hour south of me in Kosice. He is very nice, and runs something like three marathons a year. We couldn't find him at lunch because he was out running fifteen miles in a blizzard. Here is the man/legend himself:

From the Czech side came Kylowna, a high school teacher from L.A. who now teaches at a little school in Northern Czech Republic. Her presentation was about her incredibly original idea of documenting her experiences by making a blog with Blogger and sharing tons of pictures with her friends back home. Her site is really well done, with great photos, and you should definitely check it out here. Later in the week, she whipped me in a game of darts. This is Kylowna during her talk:

Perhaps the low point of the conference was when this guy gave his talk. He rambled on about a Supreme Court case dealing with flag burning, kept putting his hands in his pockets, and wrote illegibly on the board behind him. He was later complimented on his speaking skills by a woman who said "you should be on those commercials for used car lots!" Thankfully his talk was only ten minutes long:

But it was not all work and no play. We were served some pretty good lunches at the hotel, such as this meat (pork?) with potatoes and Czech salsa, I think:

The hotel also offered recreational activities for all ages and levels of hyperactivity:

Maybe the coolest part of our trip was our visit to a town called Cejkovice, where there is a wine cellar created by the Knights Templar in the 13th Century. They were supposedly the precursors to today's Masons, and some believe that they still exist, running the world through their secret shadowy underground lair. You can learn more about them from many sources such as the Da Vinci Code, Foucault's Pendulum and your local mental health institution.

The wine cellar was great, here are some photos:

The ceiling of the cellar is covered with mold, and the smell is a bit overwhelming at first. There is a tradition of sticking a coin into the ceiling and making a wish. I wished that it didn't smell so bad:

After a short tour the owners gave us a wine tasting. This went on for quite a while, and by the time we got back on the bus many people were in bad shape:

The next morning a few conference attendees were unable to make it to the presentations, such as this person. They missed a great talk on early 20th century Czech animation:

All in all it was a nice trip, and I got to meet a bunch of great people from the other side of old Czechslovakia. I hope to visit a bunch of them in Prague when the weather improves.

Speaking of bad weather, tonight I am taking the overnight train across the mountains to Krakow, Poland, where it is currently very, very cold. I'll get a bunch of pictures, and I'll put them here ASAP. Hope all is well, I will leave you with this:

Presov Restaurant Reviews

2006-02-02T16:02:00.000-08:00

In an attempt to provide future Presov tourists with some useful information, here's some reviews of restaurants around town. I'm not a professional food critic, but I am a prolific complainer, which I think qualifies me to pass a little judgment.

RYCHLA STRAVOVANE FAST FOOD

This place is great if you are low on time and cash, and have a cast-iron stomach. It is the closest thing to fast food that Presov has, and in my opinion is quite convenient. Here's some pics from the time I ran into Mishka there. First, you choose your selection from the board of daily specials, and give this nice lady your money:

Next, you take your receipt to the steam table, where they set you up with your meal. You can take all the napkins you want, which is great for people like me:

Finally, you find yourself a seat and wolf down your food. Eastern European restaurants, particularly "fast food" style "cafeterias" like this one are interesting because strangers sit together at the tables. I once had an old man sit next to me who proceeded to go at his soup like a jet-ski engine, while occasionally cursing at no one in particular which would cause bread crumbs to fly from his mouth into my halusky. Memories!

Food: Hit or miss. The halusky is tasty, and dare I say even creamy, while the "breaded meatball" made me apprehensive due to my complete inability to even guess what the meat could be. The sauerkraut and sausage soup is good, although it is so greasy that it will(did) permanently stain your(my) clothes.

My suggestion? Go with the chicken and rice, nice and easy. Rating: 2 goats (out of 3)

Ambiance: A nice family feel, if your family was a bunch of random ladies with babushkas. Rating: "Homey"

Service: I was never cursed at once, nor did I have any soup thrown in my face. Rating: 5 stars (out of 7)

Value: You can get soup, a large piece of breaded chicken, some nice steamed, unidentified vegetables and a drink for about two bucks. That is a good deal. Rating: "For the thrifty"

Free Bread? I'm afraid not

Adjective: Musty

GOVINDA VEGETARIAN RESTAURANT

I read about Govinda in my trusty Czech Republic/Slovak Republic tour book (which devotes about 10% of the pages to Slovakia), and I was surprised and perhaps a bit skeptical about a vegetarian Indian restaurant in the heart of East Slovakia. When I first went and found out that it was run by Hare Krishnas, I was double skeptical. However, this place is the bomb, so good that I actually considered converting (Krishna Krishna!!). In the end I declined because I couldn't bear not being able to wear jeans, but I admit that I am a frequent visitor for lunch.

This nice lady was nice enough to pose with the food, and allowed me to take some pictures of the place:

I've been told by the locals that people are often prostetilyzed to by the staff, but of course this isn't a problem for me as I still can't speak or understand Slovak for squat.

Food: Govinda is only open for lunch, but is open until 5, so if you're a Midwesterner like me you can sneak in before they close and get an early dinner (I know, it's pathetic).
Each day there is a special menu, where they offer soup, rice, a vegetable, a main dish and some little samosas. One day it was shaved carrots, a chick-pea red cabbage mix, yellow pea samosas and tomato chutney. Here is a poorly lit picture:

I never considered myself a vegetable person, but this stuff is consistently great. The main dish often has some type of pumpkin, and I hate pumpkin, but I love this pumpkin. That has to mean something. Rating: "Culinary Enlightenment"

Ambiance: After you hear the Hare Krishna song enough, it starts to grow on you, like watching "My Super Sweet 16" on MTV. A lot of people dig the song for the music, but as with Dylan's work I prefer the lyrics. Rating: 3 tambourines (out of 3.5)

Service: Always friendly, which is not surprising from a group of people who believe that the goal of life is to " re-awaken our original pure love for God, Krishna." And if you want, you can take up a tambourine with the hand you're not eating with and go to town. Rating: 16 smiles

Value: The daily menu is always 75 koruna, which is about two bucks. An absolute steal. Rating: "immorally cheap"

Free Bread? No, but you can have all the samosas you want. And I want them.

Adjective: Ethereal

AZTEC MEXICAN RESTAURANT

If you like food than this probably isn't the place for you. I love Mexican food, and like to think that I grew up in a region of the U.S. that has the best Mexican food in the world outside of New Mexico. But I'm not a Mexican food snob, I just want some beans, some meat, some reasonable cheese and a tortilla. I do not want pita bread filled with ketchup and hepatitis C, I could get that at Chi-Chi's. But I digress.

When I learned that there was actually a Mexican restaurant in Presov I was ecstatic, and begged the locals to go with me. I should have paid more attention to their increasingly desperate attempts to brush me off, citing "homework", "allergies" or "bad knees". I eventually convinced an American who was visiting to go, and we blindly set off for the other side of town.

Here are some pictures of the restaurant, which I took from across the street. Why from across the street? Because I have such deep psychic scars from this place that I didn't even want to cross the street. This place makes the UPenn Indian food truck seem like child's play.

The first red flag should have been that we were the only people there on a Friday night. The second was the complimentary bag of corn-nuts which had been placed on each table, next to the gigantic bottles of Slovak ketchup. When my companion suggested that we run like hell, I made a passionate argument about the need to try new things, and to give other cultures a chance to prove their Mexican cuisine skills. If I could take back one moment in my life, this would probably be it.

After finishing our corn-nuts (which offered our GI systems a nice preview of what was to come), we were served our meals. I was having a bit of beef withdrawal, so I opted for the "Mexican Steak", medium-rare (I can hear the groans). The steak itself looked pretty good, but I was surprised to see it absolutely slathered in what must have been a full bottle of the "Mexican Sauce", which I soon realized was ketchup mixed with black pepper. It also came with a side of some type of bean that I had never seen before, which were the size of cockroaches.

I can't really blame the restaurant, because I voluntarily ate most of this meal. When I think back, which I try not to do, about which part of the meal soon thereafter cause the immediate and total shutdown of all the organs below my lungs, I am unsure. Perhaps it was the effect of eating an entire bottle of ketchup on a stomach filled with corn-nuts. Perhaps it was the steak, which was not so much "medium-rare" as "squirming uncomfortably on the plate". Regardless, it did offer me my first chance to tell a cab driver to "step on it", which surely didn't have as much of a communicative effect as seeing me, frenzied and sweating, in the rear view mirror.

I really don't want to get much more into details, but I was able to salvage the remaining shreds of my dignity that I didn't lose in the Havana Airport men's restroom (for another day). Anyway, I should probably finish this review, although it pains me.

Food: Don't. Rating: 1000 tears (out of 1000)

Recommended Dish: Water.

Ambiance: A couple sombreros and a large inflatable Corona bottle crammed into a dungeon. Now that I think about it, I kinda liked it. Rating: "5th of May"

Service: I remember a lady, and then I remember sweating. She allowed me to order the food, and then did nothing to prevent me from eating it. Rating: "Shame on you"

Value: Actually one of the most expensive restaurants in the city, maybe because they import their water from Mexico. Inexplicable. Rating: "No you di'int!"

Free Bread? No, but the corn-nuts were a nice touch.

One Sentence Review: Upside-down Pompeii

I am working on a pictorial of all the women here who have dyed their hair fire-engine red. Till then, toodles!

Le Fromage

2006-01-27T04:09:00.000-08:00

I went to France last week, where I ate a lot and got cultured. I discovered Camembert cheese, which is très tasty, and I also found out that the French language is the same as English, except that you don't pronounce the last three letters of words, and speak in a French accent.

Above you can see the new logo of France which depicts Marianne, the "personification of liberty and reason." Interestingly enough, each year the mayors of France vote for a French Woman who is to be the model of Marianne. My personal favorite former winner is Sophie Marceau, who was excellent in Lost & Found with David Spade.

This gave me an idea for our official logo:

I didn't take many pictures, and the ones I did take wern't very good. Here is the cream of the crap:

I think next week I will write about Slovak supermarkets. I may be running out of things to photograph. There are always cats...

The Ukraine (is cold)

2006-01-19T17:05:00.000-08:00

Last weekend I tagged along with my Russian friend Mishka to the Ukraine, where he was going to meet some old friends. We visited two border towns, Uzhgorod and Mukacheve, for those of you who are up on your Ukrainian geography.

The Ukrainian border is a 90 minute bus ride from Presov, and then it takes about an hour to get through customs. Uzhgorod is the first major city across the border. When you cross into the Ukraine, you see a very large statute, which used to symbolize your entry into the Soviet Union. It's pretty intimidating now, I can't imagine what it was like 20 years ago:

The Ukraine is very big, very beautiful, and at least last weekend, very cold. Here is some info about The Ukraine

Ukrainian politics are particularly interesting these days, as far as I understand them, due to the aftermath of the Orange Revolution of 2004 where the people challenged the election of the typical old communist guy (I know, I don't really know what I'm talking about) and instead elected Viktor Yushchenko, who as you may remember supposedly had his face burned off by Putin's agents (supposedly Putin's agents, not supposedly had his face burned off. His face is definitely burned off , that seems to be established).

Since the revolution, some people have been happy with the new government, but many are not. I heard that the President's approval ratings are currently around 30% (remind you of anyone?), and his former Prime Minister, the frankly fairly photogenic Yulia Tymoshenko, has a good chance of beating him in this year's election. Everywhere I went, the billboards were covered with Tymoshenko's ads:

I was actually thinking of putting my hair in a bun like that.

Enough politics, what about the food and animals?

When we arrived at the bus station in Uzhgorod, I was quickly hustled into a van headed for the yearly wine festival in Mukacheve, a town a few kilometers south of Uzhgorod. Here is a handy map to keep things straight.

When we got to Mukacheve the partying was in full swing. Here's some pics:

Here we met up with our tour guides/translators, the very nice folks here:

We waited in great anticipation for some kind of prize giveway, which did not disappoint. I will let the pictures speak for themselves:

Some dude actually won that pig, and a few minutes later someone won a goat. If I would have won the goat I would have gone crazy like the people who win the Publisher's Clearing House or get their ride pimped, but this guy took it pretty well. I should have got a picture.

Our next stop was to visit a cultural club of sorts, where local Rusyns meet. As the article notes, Rusyns are a distinct ethnic group with their own language who live mainly in Western Ukraine and Northeast Slovakia (I think this is right, I got this info from Mishka, who doesn't speak that much English). Mishka wanted to check this out because he is a scholar of sorts of Rusyn history.

Mishka had clearly been here before, because he was greeted warmly, and we were all invited inside:

There I met these very nice Rusyn folks, who all started calling me Mikhail (like Gorbachev):

The very nice ladies insisted, quite strongly, that we eat various things off of this table (click on the picture to zoom in), and drink vodka in celebration:

It has been my experience over here in Eastern Europe that when you're a guest, you're given alcohol. The thing is that most Americans, myself very much included, are not used to drinking the large amount of hard alcohol that is common here. It got to the point where I was basically trying to figure out how to pour some of the vodka into my pocket, because I just didn't think I could go on. But as soon as it began, it was over, and we exchanged our goodbyes and headed back into the cold. Those ladies were awesome, as you can clearly see from the pictures.

After this, our hosts wanted us to see Mukacheve castle, which is on the outskirts of town. Here's some photos:

It was a very nice castle, with the usual torture chamber and gift shop. The coolest part of the castle, in my opinion, is this statute, which I like to call "The Finger King":

Seriously, how awesome is this?

I couldn't help myself, and had to ask for a volunteer. I assume it is good luck:

So after all this forced vodka drinking and castle looking, we were up for some food. A Slovak member of the group ordered the Ukraninan burger, and seemed to quite enjoy it:

I myself was happy with a package of bacon flavored Fan Nuts™ and a nice Ukranian beer.

You may have noticed that Ukranian is writen in the cyrilic alphabet, like Russian. The funny thing about cyrilic, and I guess any small alphabet, is that it really isn't that hard to learn, and by the end of the weekend and with the guides' help I was able to start sounding things out. It makes me want to go back and watch "Rocky 4" again.

On the way back across the border, we had to pass E.U. customs. This took about three hours because they had to make sure that no one had more than the allowable two bottles of Ukrainian liquor/ carton of Kazakh cigarettes stuffed down the front of their pants. But soon we were home, and it was a great trip.

One last thing, if you will allow. I have always had a perhaps unhealthy interest in truly awful restrooms. This may have stemmed from watching "Trainspotting", or from visiting the splendor that is the Trenton train station men's room (next to the Roy Rogers), who knows, but I am fascinated. Other people seem to share this interest, if these sites are to be believed.

So anyway, I was just about to hop on the bus when I decided to stop into the Uzhgorod bus station "restroom" to "do some business" (#1)(I'm not crazy!). Thank god I did, because otherwise I wouldn't have gotten a shot of this gem, one-handed of course:

Hope all is well, and remember to wash your hands!

Vyprazany Syr Day

2006-01-13T18:14:00.000-08:00

When I'm at school, which is most days of the week, I usually eat lunch in the school cafeteria, which is called the "canteen". I think I’m the only teacher in the department who regularly eats there, and when I tell my students about it they laugh at me, or are horrified. I'm more of an "eat to live" person, and I'll eat almost anything, so I don't mind.

The process you have to go through to get your meal at a Slovak school cafeteria, even if you’re a fluent speaker of Slovak, can only be described as herculian, or a major pain in the ass.

First, you must go to the frowning lady in the little window behind the snack bar. There, you give her 100 koruna (about three bucks), and she gives you one of these little metal things:

These are very important. Do you remember in college, perhaps at Mrs. E's cafeteria in Lawrence, KS, when you used to "borrow” (forever) the silverware? That just doesn’t happen here, thanks to the ingenious system that's been devised. When you enter the cafeteria, if you have your little metal thing, you hand it to a lady who controls the silverware. In return, she allows you to not have to eat with your hands. When you have finished, you drop your soiled silverware into a little bucket, and you get your little metal thing back. Bear in mind that this little metal thing is little, and I often lose it in my office, which can make eating a plate of goulash a real nightmare.

Anyway, if you've completed this you are ready for step 2: Choosing your meal. The Slovak cafeteria system is not a fan of waste. Unlike your high school cafeteria which would make a surplus of chicken nuggets which would then have to be thrown out or given to the local dogs, here the cafeterias have developed another shrewd system which saves money, and makes my life miserable.

The day before you wish to eat lunch, you have to go to the cafeteria and choose your meal for the following afternoon. If you want to eat lunch on Monday, you have to be at the school on Friday (which I almost never am).

You make your choice, stamp your ticket and put in into the locked box. Here's what the lunch-choosing station looks like:

One of the obvious tricks to choosing a good lunch is understanding what the menu says. At the beginning of the year, the department secretary was nice enough to translate some of the items for me, so that I could make an educated decision. I started feeling like this was a burden on her, so I stopped asking, and just started picking the first item of the day. Here's a sample menu:

So for instance, if I was going to eat this particular Monday, I would be served the husarska rolada. What is that? I honestly don't know. For some reason, many food words don’t appear in my budget Slovak-English dictionary, and there are menu items that even the students or teachers can’t translate, or have never heard of. Basically, this makes every meal a crap-shoot, in more ways that one.

When you arrive in the cafeteria, you get in the line that corresponds with the menu item that you chose for the day. There are few more disquieting feelings than when you have chosen the first menu item, let's say "A", and find yourself to be the only person in the "A" line. It makes it worse when the students in the other lines look at you with a combination of sympathy and disgust. This actually happened when I ordered the "shark's head". Which I didn't finish.

Anywho, this all relates to one of the most controversial lunch items in the cafeteria's arsenal, the "vyprazany syr", which translates as fried cheese. Vyprazany syr is a very popular dish in Slovakia, and usually consists of a piece of heavily fried edam cheese, slathered in tartar sauce, with a side of french fries. If you are a vegetarian in Slovakia who is attempting to stay alive, you are probably very familiar with the V.S. I myself enjoy it from time to time, but try not to make a habit of it.

The crazy thing about vyprazany syr is that even though most students I have spoken to claim to hate it, when it is on the menu (“Vyprazany Syr Day”, about once every three weeks), almost every single person in the cafeteria is eating it. Young and old, stout and thin, no one can resist. I get it, too, but mainly because I actually know what it is, as opposed to many of the other menu items. Witness the line for the vyprazany syr:

On the day that I snuck my camera into the cafeteria, vprazany syr day, the line was out the door. Incredible! One of the lecturers from the German department told me a great story about going into the cafeteria on V.S. Day wearing a new sweater from her grandmother, which then smelled like grease for weeks, due to the heavy grease atmosphere that cooking hundreds of portions of fried cheese in a small space tends to cause. So what does it look like?

On this day, the V.S. was served with some boiled potatoes, and the usual tartar sauce. You may have noticed the soup on my plate, which deserves a quick digression. Slovaks love soup and eat soup before every meal. There are a few soups that the cafeteria rotates through, such as cabbage, carrot, something red (beets?) and a pasta soup. I never was a big fan of soup before I came here, and now I can honestly say that I hate soup. Not because Slovak soup is bad, but because I am so tired of seeing it every day. If you go to a restaurant, you are supposed to order soup. If you don't, the server will sometimes just stand there until you do, probably because they cannot imagine eating a meal without soup. But to soup I say, no thank you. You also can take all the bread you want (I think, although I never tried to just grab an armful, so who knows).

In the Slovak cafeteria, there are no napkins. Paper is expensive, and people here don't seem to spill their food (or soup) anyway. Personally, I usually leave the cafeteria in need of being hosed down, which is another reason why I now avoid the soup. Diners also don't generally drink anything with their meal, even when the cafeteria sometimes offers a free small cup of kool-aid-like drink from a cooler. I don't know why.

When you have finished your food, you take your tray to this little window and drop off your plate. It is all very orderly, and it reminds me of elementary school:

The cafeteria is great because it's a bargain, a student meal ticket is only 23SKK, which is about 75 cents. How I got the student tickets is a great story of intrigue, deception and hard alcohol, but I should probably save it for another day, because my fingers are beat. I would link you to a vyprazany syr recipe, but I assume you just take some cheese and fry it. Give it a try.

Tomorrow I am headed to the Ukraine, and next week to Western Europe. I'll try to get some pictures of the Louvre, just to prove that all that stuff in the Da Vinci Code is totally true. Dovidenia!

Caption Contest III

2006-01-09T03:05:00.000-08:00

Congratulations to Bret K., of KS, who won the last caption contest and received a complimentary Slovak hockey puck and a bar of Czech chocolate. He squealed with delight like a Publisher's Clearing House winner.

Could you be next?

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Happy New Year

2006-01-03T14:38:00.000-08:00

Welcome to the Year of Marble...

X-Mas

2005-12-18T16:47:00.000-08:00

The Christmas season is in full swing here in East Slovakia. We are lucky to have escaped the carnage of the "War on Christmas" being waged in the U.S., due to the fact that everyone here is affiliated with a Christmas loving religion. There is one very nice synagogue in Prešov, but it is only used as a museum of Slovak Jewry. If you don't know why it's tough to find a nice Hanukah display around these parts, you probably shouldn't have slept through so many history classes in high school.

The city has been decorated with tons of lights, and it's really nice at night. Here's some pics:

During December Slovakia has many Christmas markets, which are opened up in the town squares:

At the markets you can buy crafts for the kids, and many traditional homemade foods. There are also stands which sell hot wine, so people hang around chatting and enjoying themselves:

At school, we had the department Christmas party, which was fun. My boss Dr. Hrehovcik (with the glasses)(pronounced "ray-how-chik") gave a nice toast, and then we all enjoyed wine and snacks in the library:

One of the professors, Margarita, made these excellent pastries. I don't know what was in them, but they were the bomb.

The major difference between the Slovak and the U.S. Christmas is that Santa Claus doesn't bring the presents. Jesus does. I was a little confused, because I figured Jesus would have better things to do than give kids BB guns on his birthday, but that's the way it works here. Santa actually has a separate holiday on December 6th, St. Nicholas day, when kids put boots outside the house at night, which are filled with candy by Santa in the morning.

One commenter asked for a picture of my shower, so here it is as a Christmas present:

The bars above the tub aren't removable, and are about five inches too low, so whenever I take a shower I get a sore neck. Great water pressure, though.

I hope you all get what you want for the holidays. This is the only thing on my wish list:

Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!

Slovenský Raj

2005-12-18T16:18:00.000-08:00

School ended last week, so I had the chance to take in some nature around Prešov. One major local attraction, for good reason, is the national park called the "Slovenský Raj", the "Slovak Paradise". It's only a couple hours by bus, to the West, and is quite beautiful this time of year.

I took a few pictures, but others have done much better. Check out these links for info and some great pictures of the park.

I went to "The Raj" with my trusty travel companion/bodyguard Vi, who brought a large stick to fight off any Anti-American bears or other animals with teeth:

We first had to have lunch, so we stopped at the Lesnica restaurant by the trailhead.

Because this blog is really about food, I will tell you about my lunch. Although I was drawn to something called "The Rabbi's Knees" on the English version of the menu, I went with the garlic soup and halusky. It was tasty, although I still have garlic emanating from awkward places.

It had recently snowed, which made everything very winter-like. And icy. I only fell once, towards the end, although I landed on my phone. Bummer.

Here's a view up the trail. We basically went uphill for an hour and a half, and then turned around and came back.

At the beginning of the trail there were some houses, and this snowman was in a backyard. I suggested that we kick it, but was overruled:

There were some great views from higher up the trail, which my pictures do not do justice:

When we got to the top of the trail, we could see across the valley to where the High Tatras mountains are. It was an incredible view, because the snowy peaks blended with the clouds below it, creating a kind of sci-fi/fantasy view that would usually be complimented with a unicorn. This is my best attempt to get it on film:

After that, and breaking my phone with my ass, it was back to Prešov for some hot cocoa. You should have been there!

Interesting Tidbit

2005-12-14T03:30:00.000-08:00

This line through the road, which runs in front of the best pizza place in Presov, La Cuckracha ("The Cockroach" in Spanish), marks the 49th Parallel. The 49th Parallel also forms the border between Canada and the United States, from Washington to Minnesota. No wonder it's so damn cold here.

The Dogs of Europe

2005-12-12T21:09:00.000-08:00

When I went to Europe the first time, hundreds of years ago, I took 13 rolls of regular, pre-digital film. After coming home and developing them, I realized that I had almost three full rolls of dog pictures. Now that I am older and more in touch with my feelings, I have learned to accept this compulsion, hence all these pictures of dogs.

In order to make this more interesting, try to guess which dogs are Slovak, Spanish, Austrian and Hungarian. Also, one of these is not a dog. Look closely.

I will be back home among the wheat over the holiday break, if anyone is in the neighborhood. Pictures of the Presov Christmas Market to come!

Vienna

2005-12-06T20:21:00.000-08:00

I've wrestled with the question of whether I should post stories and photos of trips outside Slovakia on this site, as you, the reader, likely clicked on this to get info on the Slovak way of life. In the end, I decided that I don't care, and what else am I going to do with all of these pictures?

Vienna is sort of Slovakian, because it's only about a 45 minute drive from Bratislava. During the Cold War, Vienna was a buffer zone between the East and West, where all kinds of James Bondian stuff occurred. Now, it seems to be all about the Schnitzel. More about that in a minute.

Consider this your photo tour of Vienna. Right this way...

I went to Vienna at the end of October, I think. It seems like a long time ago. For you fans of euphemisms and innuendo, Vienna is commonly known in these parts by its German name "Wien".

I went with some people from the program, who are always a hoot. Standing next to me in this picture (assuming you know who "me" is) is Peter from Bratislava, who was allegedly an excellent pro water-polo player in Vienna a few years back. I see no reason to doubt him.

Viennese people on the whole seem friendly, which isn't obvious from this picture:

There were, however, some disturbing reminders of times that the Viennese forgot to be nice, such as this monument to the "Victims of National Socialism":

There was also this political poster, which basically says that non-German speakers shouldn't be welcomed in Austria.

But enough politics. What about the big buildings?

If there's one thing we've all seen a lot of in Europe, it is big cathedrals. And Vienna has about the biggest cathedral I have ever seen.
I didn't realize that it was tacky to take flash photography in a church, so here is a view of the inside. It was incredible, and incredibly big.

We soon came upon this big palace in the center of the city:

At this point I would like to admit that yes I am ignorant when it comes to remebering the names of important places. I want to remember, but when you see so much in a day it starts to blend together. I will try to improve.

In front of the palace there were some incredible sculptures. I refer to these two as "The Scared Man" and "Women Where's My Dinner?!"

Speaking of dinner, we had a very nice meal at a place called "Centimeter", where you can actually buy food, like sausage, by the meter. Here's us with a meter of beer:

Instead of ordering a meter of anything, I went with the local favorite, the Weinerschnitzel, which as you can see is named after Vienna. I always thought a Wienerschnitzel was a hot dog, because when I would visit relatives in New Mexico they had a fast food place named "Weinerschnitzel" which just served hot dogs. Very confusing:

In order to further the educational purpose of this blog, here is a wienerschnitzel recipe from Wolfgang Puck, which I'm sure is authentic.

Boy was I stuffed, but probably not as much as these people who ordered the restaurant's signature "Food in a Wheelbarrow":

Jane, our group's vegetarian, ordered this. It is tough to be a vegetarian in Central Europe:

Next we went to the giant open-air market, where the eating continued. It sells all kinds of interesting food, such as this assortment of olives:

We were guided around by these two nice Viennese people, friends of one of the group from school. The girl is holding a coconut drink, which comes in a carved coconut:

I had my first "Sacher Torte", the famous cake shown below. It was pretty good, not as sweet as I am used to. I unfortunately never got to try Vienna's other famous dessert, the "Mozart Balls".

Everyone was enjoying the market, especially this guy:

I also saw a couple ads for some shows, which I bet would have been rad:

After all this eating we took the subway to the former imperial winter palace. It was very impressive:

I really liked Vienna, it is a beautiful city. I even thought it was my favorite Central European city, but then I went to Budapest. That's for another day.

I recently found out that I get over two months off from school, which doesn't begin again until the end of February. I'm thinking of just getting on a train and going somewhere picturesque, so that I can take more pictures for you all to see. Any suggestions?

Caption Contest 2

2005-12-01T06:04:00.000-08:00

I think KatForce5 won the first caption contest, the prize will be forthcoming.

Now it's your turn to shine!

#1

#2

#3

#4

#5

#6

#7

P.S.
If you have any comments/questions/concerns about the blog/halusky/goats, you can e-mail me at velvetwinter[at]gmail.com. No Viagra spam please, some of us are beyond assistance.

Laters!

Thanksgiving

2005-11-24T15:18:00.000-08:00

To spread the joys of Thanksgiving to the people of Slovakia, I had some locals over on Tuesday, and as you can see, I actually cooked some food. My Mom is an excellent cook (hey mom!), but I didn't get any of her culinary genes, so it was a Russian Roulette meal.

Although I cooked by myself, no one got sick from the food, which was the main goal. I really liked Belascio's beer-butt turkey recipe, but I couldn't find any beer cans, and I though that using a bottle might take away from the flavor.

First, I whipped up some of Mom's green been casserole, Slovak style, with frozen beans and corn:

I also made some roasted garlic mashed potatoes, which ended up being the crowd favorite. Here's the recipe:

But what about the bird, you ask? I couldn't figure out the Slovak word for turkey, and I was too lazy to try to cook one in my gas stove. Instead I went to the Tesco, where they had some delicious rotisserie chickens pre-cooked. Not very traditional, but I was the only one who knew:

For dessert I whipped up my patented canned peaches and strawberries in a light syrup. Surprsingly, canned strawberries are pretty good:

It was a good time because many people showed up ready for some chow. There was Virginie and Mishka, who came dressed for the occasion in a traditional Russian shirt:

Also, my neighbors Toby and Lukas showed up, and brought some excellent reggae music to enhance the mood:

My friend Vlado, from Presov, came with his very nice girlfriend, and was kind enough to pretend to punch the camera:

Soon we all sat down for dinner, and I made everyone say something they were thankful for, like having legs:

At one point, Mishka rose to give a toast in Russian. If the translation was correct, he said that I was a great man for getting the chicken from Tesco. I was touched:

After dinner some followed the tradition of passing out on the couch:

It was a perfect Thanksgiving, except that all of you were absent. Perhaps you will come for Presov Thanksgiving 2006? Have a great holiday!

United Nations of Fun

2005-11-20T20:03:00.000-08:00

In the interest of full disclosure, everything I write about generally happened about a month ago. For instance, the party I had at my apartment, the topic of this entry, happened sometime in early October. For all you know, I could be married to a goat right now.

So, at the school we have a bunch of different language departments, including French, German, English and Spanish. One night I thought it would be fun to invite some of the (English speaking) lecturers over to my place for a typical American "party".

The first people in attendance were the French lecturer Virginie, the German lecturer Christine, and Petra the Slovak girl who teaches Spanish, shown below from left to right:

Hot on their heels was Juraj, my friend from the American Studies department, and Mario, the Spanish teacher from Madrid.

Last but not least was Mishka from Moscow, who took some excellent pictures of the get-together, which for some reason I am unable to post:

I didn't know what people wanted to eat or drink, so I bought an assortment of "hard beverages" and some cheese and crackers:

I soon learned, however, that the customs for drinking are much different here than they are in the U.S. For instance, the men brought their own drink, plum brandy, which is called Slivovica. Slivovica and juniper brandy, Borovička, are extremely popular here, and are often homemade. Some of the better homemade versions supposedly are close to 180 proof. Here's some info on these drinks.

I also learned that men are generally not supposed to drink wine, but that didn't stop the Spanish guy. It was a real evening of discovery, where we appreciated the differences between our cultures, and enjoyed some cheap French cheese.

I'm thinking of having some locals over on Wednesday for a Thanksgiving dinner thingy, but I'm an awful cook. Also, I don't know where I can get any turkey, much less a tofurkey or a turduken. Any suggestions for easy T-day recipes would be greatly appreciated, and remember, if it's not authentic, no one here will know.

Happy Students' Day

2005-11-17T00:52:00.000-08:00

Today is the Day of Students in Slovakia, which celebrates the Velvet Revolution of 1989, when Czechoslovakia freed itself from the Soviet Union. Here is some interesting info on today's holiday.

The weather here has turned very cold, and Presov is known for being particularly windy. If you're interested to see just how cold it is, here's a link to the daily forecast. I need to get some long underwear.

Today I received another excellent e-mail from a student. I don't know what precipitated this question:

Dear (_____),

will you please explain to me what "break the balls" means? There is no chance to find this phrase in the dictionaries.

Thanks,

(____)

PS: Have a happy Student's Day. :o)

I think she means "bust your balls", but I'm not sure. I'm afraid I may have said this in class, otherwise she could have heard this watching a Czech translation of "Pulp Fiction". Who knows.

I recently went to Vienna and Budapest, where I took a lot of pictures which I would like to show you all. I'll work on it this week, but here is a preview:

And still no clear winner for the Caption Contest, entries will be accepted for one more week. Good luck!

School

2005-11-09T21:20:00.000-08:00

It may seem that all I do is eat things and take pictures here in Slovakia, but in fact I also work as a teacher at the University of Presov, where I eat things, take pictures and teach:

I am a "lecturer" in the English and American Studies department, where I teach both American Studies and Conversational English classes. The students are great, and the faculty is very nice. They even gave me my own office:

Well, it's almost my own office, except for the couple days a month when Professor Svoboda drops in from the Czech Republic. It even has a sink:

My students are very bright, but initially they had trouble understanding me, because I spoke too fast. How do I know I was speaking too fast? Because during the second week of classes I received this e-mail:

Hi, (M.L.).

Let me introduce myself :-) My name is (name removed for purposes of confidentiality) and I am your student at US Institutions. In my homework there is a reaction to the Am Government.

My personal message for you: I would like you to speak a bit slowly. I have difficulty understanding you. Your rapid casual speech makes me unhappy.
Thanks, (name removed, again for purposes of confidentiality. You don't know them anyway, so whatever)

Just how unhappy can rapid casual speech make a class of Slovak students? Let me show you. Here is a picture of my "Institutions of the United States" class before I was informed of my speech problem:

But with more formal speech, at a slower pace, this happened:

Case closed on that one.

In my classes I've been given the freedom to teach whatever I come up with, within the scope of the course description. In some courses, such as "Institutions of the United States", this has allowed me to basically teach U.S. law. Here are some of the issues we cover, and materials we use:

You might be wondering why I would try to teach U.S. law to Slovak college students. They were actually wondering the same thing. However, it has worked out well as they seem to like discussing controversial legal issues in the U.S. that they hear about in the news.

On the other hand, I was asked to teach a class called "Introduction to American Studies for Freshman", without being given any guidelines as to what to discuss. Due to this, the class topics are sometimes a bit broad or unfocused. It also doesn't help that my last American History class was in high school. Here are some of the weekly lectures that I have given, which can be summed up pretty easily by a sentence or two:

Week 2: Slavery and Native Americans- We're so sorry. Really sorry.
Week 5: Women's Suffrage and the Civil Rights Movement- Everyone's free! But not really!
Week 7: The 60's and Vietnam: Everyone was so angry!
Week 10: American Culture: Britney Spears!

The majority of students live at home with their families, in towns close to Presov, and they commute to school each day. A few students live in the dorms next to the school, which are very similar to my college dorm, Oliver Hall:

For those of you who are O.H. alumni (I'm looking at you, Rebne), you know this is not a compliment.

Occasionally after classes I will go across the street to one of the school bars, where the lecturers and students hang out. I prefer the Teacher's Cafe:

When the students are in their final year, they write their name in chalk on the sidewalk:

I really like my job, and have quite a bit more to say about it. I plan on doing a photo-exposé on the cafeteria, but first I have to slip my camera past the lunch ladies. Wish me luck!

Make Your Own Caption Contest

2005-11-06T13:05:00.000-08:00

Winner gets a prize, I don't know what.

Cribs: Slovakia

2005-11-02T09:42:00.000-08:00

For those of you who are interested in what the typical East Slovakian apartment looks like, this is your lucky day. The school set me up with a sweet pad, which is rented to me by a very nice lady named Valerie. Let me take you on the tour!

First, there is the hallway, or the foyer, or whatever you want to call it. It is where I hang my coats, so I call it the coat-chamber, to make it sound fancy:

Please note the sunflowers, official state flower of the great state of Kansas!

Next, to your left, you will find the kitchen. Valerie stocked it with everything an excellent chef like myself would need, like a spaghetti strainer. I cook at home quite a bit, and have developed some creative dishes. My personal favorite is the Tuesday special macaroni and frozen vegetables with olive oil, served with a dusting of salt. Bon Appetite!

Next, the bedroom. If this was a real episode of Cribs™, I would point to the bed and tell you "this is where the magic is made/checks are cashed/business is transacted", or something to that effect. For me, this is where "the sleeping gets done" if you catch my drift, and if not I mean that I just sleep there:

An interesting feature of Slovakian apartments is that the toilet is not in the "bathroom", but instead has its own little space. Here's mine. I like to keep the seat up, just because I can:

Next is the living room, which is really big with two very comfy couches. They both have pull-out beds, for visitors and what-not:

I have a TV, which has basic Slovak cable. I watch a lot of MTV Europe, which is a little heavy on the t.A.T.u. and Green Day, but they play repeats of "Pimp My Ride" in English, which helps. Even better are the almost daily showings of the Slovak version of "American Idol", which translates roughly as "Slovakia Chooses Its Next Superstar!". There are also three different versions of the show "Big Brother", which play at the same time. I am not joking.

Valerie is, without question, an excellent decorator, and she has a healthy obsession with Florida:

My favorite part of the apartment, however, is this. I call him Lobo. Valerie was quick to assure me that he does not have fleas:

It really is a great place, way too big for just me, but I won't complain. The best way to really get to know this apartment is to come visit, so come on over and check it out (but bring your own towel).

Tour of Prešov

2005-11-01T21:58:00.000-08:00

Happy All Saints Day! Slovakia is a strongly Catholic country, and the whole country shuts down today. Many people attend mass and go to the cemetery to light candles at the graves of family members. I considered taking a picture of this, but it seemed a little tacky, and a lot offensive.

Anyway, Prešov!

Prešov is a really cool town, not too big or too small, with lots to do.

It is built around a central square, which is on the main street, Hlavna street (Slovak for main, but you probably got that on your own). Here is a picture from the city's official website:

In the center of the square is a giant cathedral, the Uniate Cathedral Temple of St. John the Baptist.

Due to it's central location, it's a great place to meet friends (assuming you have friends) before hitting the Prešov nightlife. I would like to write more about the social scene here, but I'll save it for a different post, as I don't want to run out of material before Christmas.

Here are some more pictures of the main street:

Across from the cathedral is a small triangular park, with many benches on which Slovak teens vie for the title of Most Gratuitous Public Displays of Affection in the EU. Slovakia is generally considered a conservative country, and Prešov is no different, but I've seen things occur in the park in broad daylight that could throw out the back of even the stoutest youngsters. Maybe I'm just being puritanical. And what does this park look like, you ask?

In the center of the park, there is a monument of the former regime.

I think the history of Soviet influence here is fascinating, and the people have a lot of great stories about the city before the Velvet Revolution. I hope to get enough info to be able to write something worthwhile about it, but first I need to learn how to write in a worthwhile manner, which I guess just takes practice.

Speaking of the Velvet Revolution, you may have been wondering (or not) why the name of this blog is "VelvetWinter". There are two reasons.

First, the "Velvet Revolution"" refers to Czechoslovakia’s bloodless revolution against the Communist government in 1989, spearheaded by Václav Havel, an artist and proponent of non-violent resistance. "The Velvet Divorce"" is the term used for Czechoslovakia’s peaceful dissolution into the Czech and Slovak Republics in 1993. Isn't this informative? I remember once hearing that the reason it was a "Velvet" revolution was because Havel was a big fan of the U.S. band "The Velvet Underground"" , fronted by Lou Reed in the late 60's. However, after further web research this appears to be an urban legend.

The second reason is that "VelvetDivorce" and "VelvetRevolution" were unavailable, along with "PierogiParty2005". So VelvetWinter it was.

One last piece of crucial information is that Prešov residents, and Slovakians in general, love their ice cream.

You can get ice cream at many sidewalk stands, and also at little shops that only sell sweets. Some of these places advertise their ice cream as "Croatian", which to me seems very similar to Italian gelato, and tastes just as good. 5 Slovak Koruna (5 SK), which is about 15 cents, will get you a scoop, and it is a faux paus to order only one, so most people get three or four different flavors. Interestingly, in Slovakia ice cream is eaten year-round, at home and in the streets, which is also true through much of Central and Eastern Europe.

I will spend my last paragraph begging for comments, such as "More Food Pictures!" or "Up Yours!". It is nice to hear from the people back home, so if you get the chance make up a fake name and really cut loose. However, be sure to watch the salty language, like "tits". Oops.

Missed Opportunity

2005-10-26T08:27:00.000-07:00

The show was here in Prešov on September 6th, so I just missed it. It received at least one rave review.

Luckily for me, other opportunities are popping up all the time...

Prešov!

2005-10-20T11:51:00.000-07:00

The city I live in, Prešov, is in the Northeastern part of Slovakia. It is four hours from Budapest, six hours from Krakow, eight hours from Vienna and a two hour bus-ride to the Ukrainiann border. It is a great city, with very friendly people, and I have been really enjoyed being here for the last month.

To begin to understand what makes Prešov tick, I will refer you to their official web-site...

Do not be frightened by the man's moustache when you click on the link. Moustaches in Slovakia, unlike in the U.S., are harmless and even fashionable in some regions.

Another important thing to know about Prešov is how to pronounce it. It is pronounced "Presh-ov", because in Slovak, the language spoken in Slovakia, the letter š sounds like "sh". Slovak is a very interesting language, somewhat similar to Russian, Ukrainian and Serbian, and very similar to Czech, or so I have been told. It would make my life much easier here if I spoke Russian, Polish, German, Czech or Slovak, which are all spoken in various parts of the country, but I don't, as far as I know.

I would like to write more about how challenging it is to communicate, but I can tell that you are getting antsy and want to see some pictures. So OK. Here is the street I live on:

And here is my building:

And finally, the front door!

In Slovak, the name of the type of neighborhood I live in, which in England they call a housing estate, is a Sidlisko. My Grandfather's name was Sidney L****w. While this may be just a coincidence, it would be nice to think that Gramps is looking out for me, protecting me from malicious, flu-infected chickens.

Also, there are three Sidliskos in Prešov, and mine is called Sidlisko Secow, which is pronounced "sex-show". Early in my stay someone asked me if I lived in Secow, but I couldn't really understand the question and ended up telling most of an embarrassingssing story about my visit to Amsterdam in college before someone kindly stopped me.

I have many more pictures to show, and stories to tell, but this blogging thing is exhausting. For now, I would just like to share a couple of jokes that I have been told. The first was from a Frenchwoman, and it is about Belgians, who I guess are the butt of many French jokes. Here goes:

Why did the Belgian go to sleep with a full glass of water and an empty glass next to his bed?
-Because he wasn't sure if we was going to be thirsty in the middle of the night.

You know in Annie Hall, when Woody Allen sums up the whole movie with the joke about the guy whose brother thinks he is a chicken? A guy here told me a classic Slovak joke recently, which I think sums up my experience here so far:

Q: What kind of soup will be served today?
A: Bean soup!

I hope everyone is doing well at home, and I will write more soon.

A Little More Bratislava

2005-10-20T10:57:00.000-07:00

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.

Emily

2005-10-20T10:35:00.000-07:00

As many of the people reading this know, our friend Emily passed away last weekend. She was one of the kindest people I've ever met, and she was always looking out for us law students during our most difficult times. She was also a true connoisseur of condiments. I wish I had something more than a stupid blog to dedicate to her memory, but for now it will have to do. She deserves quite a bit more.

Here's a picture of us when she taught me how to ski, and one of her with a Kazakh celebrity. She was that rare person who you know you will never forget, even when she is gone.

If you would like, feel free to post a comment with a memory of Emily that you have, or anything else. For instance, she always made fun of me because I liked the movie "Solaris" staring George Clooney and the woman with the gigantic eyes. She also told me that she knew of a guy named Soupdick Poonjesticle, but I never received proof. I wish we could watch Solaris together again.

Bratislava Continued

2005-10-08T09:09:00.000-07:00

We spent the next day checking out Bratislava. The old part of the city, which the Germans called Pressburg, has many historical attractions, and is quite beautiful. Of course, while I went through that part of the city, I didn’t have my camera, so I will refer you to this...

One thing I really regret not getting a picture of is the “Cage of Shame”, where women who had done things that they should have been ashamed of were put in order to maximize their shaming. Here is a picture of a typical Cage of Shame.

I couldn't find a picture of the Cage of Shame in Bratislava. Shame on you, Internets!

There are many nice parts of Bratislava that I actually did take pictures of, here is a small selection.

Later, we went to the Museum of Folk Costumes, which was very interesting. Each small region has their distinctive folk costumes, which were illustrated by this poster:

Afterwards, we went out for an authentic Slovakian meal (for tourists).
Here, I had my first experience with halusky, the Slovak national dish. It is basically squiggly potato pasta, tossed in a (non-pasteurized) sheep’s cheese cream sauce, and topped with bacon.

Although it looked like it had already been eaten, it was great, and tasted a lot like Kraft Mac and Cheese (for the stove, not the Velveeta version for the microwave) topped with bacon. Which, if you think about it, is a great idea. Here is a link to the recipe, try it at home.

I also had a goulash quesadilla, but it really didn’t do anything for me.

After that, I went to the train station, and hopped onto what I thought was the train to Presov, my new home for a year. Did I make it? Well, obviously, but I’m trying to add a little suspense as a literary device…

2005-10-06T09:22:00.000-07:00

So I've never had a blog before. I know blogs are mostly for angsty teenage girls who want to talk about the mall, but this is much easier than sending out group e-mails, and it benefits you because you won't have to receive group e-mails you don't want. So here goes nothing.

When I arrived in Bratislava, the capital of Slovakia, they put me up in an nice hotel. I sort of made a mess, but I was experiencing culture shock.

Speaking of culture, to understand Slovakian culture you need to understand Slovakia itself. For that, here is a handy link to some great info on Slovakia.

While I was there, I got to meet the other people on the program. They were all very nice, and looked like this:

If you're wondering why we are so dressed up, it is because we were visiting the home of the American Ambassador. Here is some info on him.

We had a very nice meal of little quiches, and the Ambassador gave a speech about current events. Here's a pic:

I got the chance to speak with the Ambassador about ice hockey, which was a lot of fun. He was a True American.

The next day we had the opportunity to check out the city. I put a bunch of pictures here but the thingy ate them. More soon, when my battery isn't dead...