I really dig the fog we've been getting here recently.
Here is a photo of Hotel Kyjev taken from our kitchen window with Tuesday evening's fog, and below it, the same shot the next morning without the fog. Neat!
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Bratislava Apartment Hunt 2012!™ - Part 2
Our epic apartment hunting saga continues...
What's the point?: This place was damn near perfect. A beautiful, tastefully furnished apartment in a sweet historical building on Laurinska, which is a picturesque, pedestrianized street right smack in the middle of the historical center. The only real flaw was that the kitchen sink was kind of small, making it potentially difficult to wash large pots or baking dishes. But we could've lived with that. Besides, it had a dishwasher. Everything else about this apartment was perfect. Big beautiful windows, hardwood floors, a stylish looking kitchen with groovy red tiles, and super nice furniture, all for the same rent that we currently pay, including all utilities and even internet/cable. Wow!
So, when we told the realtor we'd take it, he revealed that someone else had already agreed to rent it, but hadn't signed the lease yet, but that in all likelihood it was a done deal. So, um, what in the hell were we doing there, then? Well, you never know, he said. Sigh... Seriously, only an imbecile would back out of renting a place like this.
Claustrophobic: Located in an old, medieval-era building on the corner of Laurinska and Ursulinska, across the street and a few doors down from the apartment mentioned above, and in the same building as the Oxford Bookshop, this apartment actually had a lot going for it. Nice and tasteful furniture, reasonably spacious, great hardwood floors, etc... This place had been previously used for short-term holiday rentals, but the owner wanted to switch to a long-term rental situation. But the deal-breaker? All of the windows of the 2nd floor flat looked out into the building's interior courtyard, which was really more of a glorified air shaft or light well, as it was far too small to really be considered a courtyard. That means when you looked out the window, all you could see was the wall across the way - which was at max 10 feet away - and right into someone else's apartment. Bummer.
Beds and hair everywhere: This next apartment was in the same building, owned by the same person, and had also been used as a rental for short-term stays. But it was much larger than the first - palatial, actually, and with rent to match, of course. But we thought we'd check it out anyway, since we were there. The windows actually had street views onto Ursulinska. But what made this apartment worth mentioning was a matted wad of long hair stuck to the bathroom counter and dirty q-tips on the floor. I mean, come on, would it really have put them out to tidy up the place and make it look more presentable?
Also off-putting was the fact that the apartment had beds everywhere. There were 2 or 3 single person beds stuck in every available corner of the living room, while the bedroom also had an extra bed along the far wall. Here's an idea: how about ditching all the crappy extra beds! Because I guarantee you, unless you're specifically trying to rent your flat to a large group of students, you're not going to attract any potential tenants with the vacation rental look.
Myopic landlord: We liked this place. It was located in one of our very favorite neighborhoods, near where Stefanikova and Palisady intersect, where there are several blocks lined with beautifully ornate 19th century facades. This apartment had a lot of nice, old-timey details (like intricate woodwork on the door jambs, massive beautiful solid wood doors), very high ceilings, and was fairly spacious, with a nice big kitchen and an airy living room. Although it was at quasi-ground level, the windows were probably about 7 feet off the ground, so it's not like people walking by could peak into the place. (Besides which, it was a pretty mellow street). And speaking of the windows, they were huge, old, and beautiful - and let in lots of natural light. Terezia had some reservations about the ground floor, but despite that, we decided we'd take it.
So, what went wrong this time? We actually saw this place back in October, and when we said that we couldn't take it until December 1 because of our current lease, the owner decided that was too long to wait, and opted to gamble on someone else being both interested and able to move in sooner. Of course, at the time of writing nearly a month later, this apartment is still available, and they've even decreased the rent by 50 euros. So stupid - had they agreed to let us take it in October, they could've locked us in at a higher rent. But now that the rent has gone down and Dec 1 is fast approaching, maybe we'll get in touch again.
Stay tuned for part 3 of Bratislava Apartment Hunt 2012!™
What's the point?: This place was damn near perfect. A beautiful, tastefully furnished apartment in a sweet historical building on Laurinska, which is a picturesque, pedestrianized street right smack in the middle of the historical center. The only real flaw was that the kitchen sink was kind of small, making it potentially difficult to wash large pots or baking dishes. But we could've lived with that. Besides, it had a dishwasher. Everything else about this apartment was perfect. Big beautiful windows, hardwood floors, a stylish looking kitchen with groovy red tiles, and super nice furniture, all for the same rent that we currently pay, including all utilities and even internet/cable. Wow!
So, when we told the realtor we'd take it, he revealed that someone else had already agreed to rent it, but hadn't signed the lease yet, but that in all likelihood it was a done deal. So, um, what in the hell were we doing there, then? Well, you never know, he said. Sigh... Seriously, only an imbecile would back out of renting a place like this.
Claustrophobic: Located in an old, medieval-era building on the corner of Laurinska and Ursulinska, across the street and a few doors down from the apartment mentioned above, and in the same building as the Oxford Bookshop, this apartment actually had a lot going for it. Nice and tasteful furniture, reasonably spacious, great hardwood floors, etc... This place had been previously used for short-term holiday rentals, but the owner wanted to switch to a long-term rental situation. But the deal-breaker? All of the windows of the 2nd floor flat looked out into the building's interior courtyard, which was really more of a glorified air shaft or light well, as it was far too small to really be considered a courtyard. That means when you looked out the window, all you could see was the wall across the way - which was at max 10 feet away - and right into someone else's apartment. Bummer.
 |
| The corner of Laurinska and Ursulinska. |
 |
| An aerial view of the building on Laurinska, where you can see the tiny "courtyard"/air shaft that I've circled in red. |
Beds and hair everywhere: This next apartment was in the same building, owned by the same person, and had also been used as a rental for short-term stays. But it was much larger than the first - palatial, actually, and with rent to match, of course. But we thought we'd check it out anyway, since we were there. The windows actually had street views onto Ursulinska. But what made this apartment worth mentioning was a matted wad of long hair stuck to the bathroom counter and dirty q-tips on the floor. I mean, come on, would it really have put them out to tidy up the place and make it look more presentable?
Also off-putting was the fact that the apartment had beds everywhere. There were 2 or 3 single person beds stuck in every available corner of the living room, while the bedroom also had an extra bed along the far wall. Here's an idea: how about ditching all the crappy extra beds! Because I guarantee you, unless you're specifically trying to rent your flat to a large group of students, you're not going to attract any potential tenants with the vacation rental look.
Myopic landlord: We liked this place. It was located in one of our very favorite neighborhoods, near where Stefanikova and Palisady intersect, where there are several blocks lined with beautifully ornate 19th century facades. This apartment had a lot of nice, old-timey details (like intricate woodwork on the door jambs, massive beautiful solid wood doors), very high ceilings, and was fairly spacious, with a nice big kitchen and an airy living room. Although it was at quasi-ground level, the windows were probably about 7 feet off the ground, so it's not like people walking by could peak into the place. (Besides which, it was a pretty mellow street). And speaking of the windows, they were huge, old, and beautiful - and let in lots of natural light. Terezia had some reservations about the ground floor, but despite that, we decided we'd take it.
So, what went wrong this time? We actually saw this place back in October, and when we said that we couldn't take it until December 1 because of our current lease, the owner decided that was too long to wait, and opted to gamble on someone else being both interested and able to move in sooner. Of course, at the time of writing nearly a month later, this apartment is still available, and they've even decreased the rent by 50 euros. So stupid - had they agreed to let us take it in October, they could've locked us in at a higher rent. But now that the rent has gone down and Dec 1 is fast approaching, maybe we'll get in touch again.
Stay tuned for part 3 of Bratislava Apartment Hunt 2012!™
Friday, November 9, 2012
Bratislava Apartment Hunt 2012!™ - Part 1
So, our lease is up at the end of November, and we decided that we want to find a better apartment. The place we're in now has never been ideal, but we chose it out of desperation because we really needed to get the hell out of Terezia's brother's house in Bernolakovo as quickly as possible.
Our apartment does have its advantages: it's centrally located and close to lots of shops and key tram/bus stops; it's spacious and happens to be situated in a solid, well-constructed late-1940s building; it's got a really nice kitchen; and the owner, who lives next door, is quite friendly.
But, it's also got a lot of negatives. First and foremost, the furniture is unrelentingly hideous. When my friend Jason and his brother Dan came to visit in May, they both laughed out loud for an awkwardly long period of time when they walked into the living room. The blue/green carpets are clean, but also threadbare and cringe-inducingly ugly. The bed, the apartment's pièce de résistance, is an uncomfortable and hysterical 1970s artifact, covered in white vinyl, complete with a crazy headboard that resembles the back seat of a 1970s pimp's Cadillac, with a mirror on top.
Other issues include these old, loud, quasi-homeless alcoholic guys who camp right outside the building on a patio in the rear and leave piles of garbage behind, which the building's maintenance person/janitor clearly couldn't be bothered to pick up. The loud din between 4:30 and 7:00 in the morning from Tesco's delivery trucks is another serious issue (I have to sleep with earplugs), as is the daily sound of men urinating on the wall at the base of the building. It's a distinct sound that cannot be mistaken for a garden hose, and we can hear it very clearly from up on the third floor!
So, we're looking for an apartment with nicer furniture (most apartments in this town seem to come furnished) so that we can feel more comfortable and more at home in the place, but also a place in an older and nicer building on a quieter street. But of course we still want to be centrally located in the Stare Mesto.
But, much like what we experienced this time last year when we looked at about 14 or so apartments in the Stare Mesto, each place seems to have at least one glaring, deal-breaking flaw. Here are some of our Bratislava Apartment Hunt 2012!™ experiences so far.
Bedroom is a closet: The first place we looked at was in an older building on Banskobystricka, and had a lovely, spacious, reconstructed kitchen with big windows that let in lots of light. From there you entered the living room, which had nice hardwood floors and more big, old fashioned windows that let in lots of light, with nice views over the large park across the street behind the presidential palace. But as soon as we walked into the bedroom, our hearts sank. The bedroom was so narrow that one side of the queen sized bed had to be pushed up against the wall, while there was scarcely about 2 feet of space between the wall and the other side of the bed. Making matters worse, you had to squeeze through this narrow path in order to reach the bathroom at the other end of the room. It really felt more like a glorified hallway.
Apparently, this apartment is having trouble renting (it's been online for a couple of months), and we suspect the crappy bedroom might have something to do with it. The realtor actually called us a week after we saw it to ask if we would reconsider (which has never happened to us before). When we told him why the bedroom wouldn't work for us, he actually said that we could move the bed so that the headboard was against the wall, which is hilarious because if you did that, you would have to literally climb over the bed to get to the other side of it (and to the bathroom!).
Here's the floor plan of the bedroom. That' s the doorway at the lower left side, the bed in the middle, the window and heater beneath it along the bottom, a large armoire at the upper right hand corner, and the door into the bathroom along the upper left. Just all around terrible feng shui!
50 Shades of Grey: This next place, in a large, attractive complex of old buildings between Tobrucka and Vajanskeho Nabrezie, had potential. It was on the fourth floor of an older, pre-WWII building and the owner had recently renovated the entire apartment. It was nice, but we weren't in love with it. One of the main issues was the owner apparently has a deep obsession with the color grey. The kitchen was kind of a grey monochrome, but the bathroom was tiled from floor to ceiling with every shade of grey in the spectrum. The tiles were completely random - there was no pattern or anything, like a jumbled up greyscale - which had kind of a nauseating effect.
What was funny about this place though was that at one point, when Terezia and I were taking a second look at the kitchen, the owner pulled the realtor into the other room and scolded him, saying, "You're doing a shitty job selling this apartment. I can tell they are not 100% sold on this place, and you need to go in there and convince them." I mean, what did he take us for, a couple of undiscerning, feeble-minded knuckleheads who can just be manipulated into signing a lease for any old place?
Bait and switch: The next apartment was located very close to 50 Shades above, but looked out over Medena. The photos were sweet - the place just oozed the kind of old architectural detail that we go totally gaga over, but was recently renovated with new hardwood floors and amenities. But when we met the realtor out front, he ushered us into an apartment that was not the one pictured or described on the website. It had identical furniture and appliances (all very tasteful and modern), but while the one on the website was a proper 65-square-meter one-bedroom flat with large widows overlooking the street, this was much smaller and felt more like a glorified studio apartment, with the kitchen and living room crammed into the same small space, a narrow, partial wall that barely separated the bedroom, and windows overlooking only the building's interior courtyard.
He then took us into the apartment next door, which was virtually identical, and still definitely not the one we saw in the ad online. At this point, I said to the realtor, "This feels very deceptive. Why aren't you showing us the apartment that was pictured in the ad on the website? If we had known you were going to show us these, we wouldn't have bothered responding." The realtor seemed totally shocked that I would say this, and he explained that they have seven units available in the building and that they use the photos of one of the nicer apartments to represent all of them, because they all have the same furniture, appliances, hardwood floors, etc. When we asked if the one on the website was available, he said it was, but the catch was that it was actually going for €1,000 per month (which was well out of our budget), despite the fact that it was advertised on the website for a good deal less, including all utilities.
But we checked it out anyway, and while it was definitely a nice place, the whole exchange left a bad taste in our mouths. The guy kept saying, "See, same furniture! Same appliances! Same bathroom!" as if to reassure me that there was nothing deceptive going on. Never mind that this flat was quite a bit bigger and nicer than the others. When we told the guy that we definitely couldn't afford it, he asked us our price limit, and when we told him, he said that he was pretty certain that the owner would come down to our range, but that we would have to take the apartment right then and there. "Can you take the place right now?" he asked. Well, no. You see, we're bound until the end of the month to this thing called a lease...
Dream apartment: Next we saw a place that we were told about by a friend of Terezia's named Katka. Katka and her husband run a bookstore in the center of town on Medena, and they seem to know everyone in Bratislava. A retired friend of hers looks after a few apartments, and one located on Heydukova recently became available. The rent Katka mentioned was right at the upper limit of our range, but she didn't know whether it also included utilities (it's common for apartments here to either include utilities in the rental price or list a set monthly fee for utilities that you pay the owner with the rent). The second we sit foot in this place, I knew immediately that the rent wasn't going to cover utilities.
Firstly, the building itself was quite old, with a beautifully ornate 19th-century facade. The apartment was massive - 100 square meters - and it had beautiful hardwood floors, high vaulted ceilings, and stylish modern furniture. We were in love. The apartment actually had two bedrooms and a super nice, modern kitchen. Katka's friend who showed us the place was this really nice older fellow who gave off a bohemian vibe (as in the lifestyle, not the Czech region) and had a good sense of humor. But I felt sad and defeated as we walked through the place because it was clear that the utilities would push the rent well out of our reach. What a tease!
Since most people's eyes will probably glaze over before they even finish the first paragraph of this post, I'll leave the next round of apartment rental fun for Part 2 of Bratislava Apartment Hunt 2012!™.
Our apartment does have its advantages: it's centrally located and close to lots of shops and key tram/bus stops; it's spacious and happens to be situated in a solid, well-constructed late-1940s building; it's got a really nice kitchen; and the owner, who lives next door, is quite friendly.
But, it's also got a lot of negatives. First and foremost, the furniture is unrelentingly hideous. When my friend Jason and his brother Dan came to visit in May, they both laughed out loud for an awkwardly long period of time when they walked into the living room. The blue/green carpets are clean, but also threadbare and cringe-inducingly ugly. The bed, the apartment's pièce de résistance, is an uncomfortable and hysterical 1970s artifact, covered in white vinyl, complete with a crazy headboard that resembles the back seat of a 1970s pimp's Cadillac, with a mirror on top.
Other issues include these old, loud, quasi-homeless alcoholic guys who camp right outside the building on a patio in the rear and leave piles of garbage behind, which the building's maintenance person/janitor clearly couldn't be bothered to pick up. The loud din between 4:30 and 7:00 in the morning from Tesco's delivery trucks is another serious issue (I have to sleep with earplugs), as is the daily sound of men urinating on the wall at the base of the building. It's a distinct sound that cannot be mistaken for a garden hose, and we can hear it very clearly from up on the third floor!
So, we're looking for an apartment with nicer furniture (most apartments in this town seem to come furnished) so that we can feel more comfortable and more at home in the place, but also a place in an older and nicer building on a quieter street. But of course we still want to be centrally located in the Stare Mesto.
But, much like what we experienced this time last year when we looked at about 14 or so apartments in the Stare Mesto, each place seems to have at least one glaring, deal-breaking flaw. Here are some of our Bratislava Apartment Hunt 2012!™ experiences so far.
Bedroom is a closet: The first place we looked at was in an older building on Banskobystricka, and had a lovely, spacious, reconstructed kitchen with big windows that let in lots of light. From there you entered the living room, which had nice hardwood floors and more big, old fashioned windows that let in lots of light, with nice views over the large park across the street behind the presidential palace. But as soon as we walked into the bedroom, our hearts sank. The bedroom was so narrow that one side of the queen sized bed had to be pushed up against the wall, while there was scarcely about 2 feet of space between the wall and the other side of the bed. Making matters worse, you had to squeeze through this narrow path in order to reach the bathroom at the other end of the room. It really felt more like a glorified hallway.
Apparently, this apartment is having trouble renting (it's been online for a couple of months), and we suspect the crappy bedroom might have something to do with it. The realtor actually called us a week after we saw it to ask if we would reconsider (which has never happened to us before). When we told him why the bedroom wouldn't work for us, he actually said that we could move the bed so that the headboard was against the wall, which is hilarious because if you did that, you would have to literally climb over the bed to get to the other side of it (and to the bathroom!).
50 Shades of Grey: This next place, in a large, attractive complex of old buildings between Tobrucka and Vajanskeho Nabrezie, had potential. It was on the fourth floor of an older, pre-WWII building and the owner had recently renovated the entire apartment. It was nice, but we weren't in love with it. One of the main issues was the owner apparently has a deep obsession with the color grey. The kitchen was kind of a grey monochrome, but the bathroom was tiled from floor to ceiling with every shade of grey in the spectrum. The tiles were completely random - there was no pattern or anything, like a jumbled up greyscale - which had kind of a nauseating effect.
What was funny about this place though was that at one point, when Terezia and I were taking a second look at the kitchen, the owner pulled the realtor into the other room and scolded him, saying, "You're doing a shitty job selling this apartment. I can tell they are not 100% sold on this place, and you need to go in there and convince them." I mean, what did he take us for, a couple of undiscerning, feeble-minded knuckleheads who can just be manipulated into signing a lease for any old place?
Bait and switch: The next apartment was located very close to 50 Shades above, but looked out over Medena. The photos were sweet - the place just oozed the kind of old architectural detail that we go totally gaga over, but was recently renovated with new hardwood floors and amenities. But when we met the realtor out front, he ushered us into an apartment that was not the one pictured or described on the website. It had identical furniture and appliances (all very tasteful and modern), but while the one on the website was a proper 65-square-meter one-bedroom flat with large widows overlooking the street, this was much smaller and felt more like a glorified studio apartment, with the kitchen and living room crammed into the same small space, a narrow, partial wall that barely separated the bedroom, and windows overlooking only the building's interior courtyard.
He then took us into the apartment next door, which was virtually identical, and still definitely not the one we saw in the ad online. At this point, I said to the realtor, "This feels very deceptive. Why aren't you showing us the apartment that was pictured in the ad on the website? If we had known you were going to show us these, we wouldn't have bothered responding." The realtor seemed totally shocked that I would say this, and he explained that they have seven units available in the building and that they use the photos of one of the nicer apartments to represent all of them, because they all have the same furniture, appliances, hardwood floors, etc. When we asked if the one on the website was available, he said it was, but the catch was that it was actually going for €1,000 per month (which was well out of our budget), despite the fact that it was advertised on the website for a good deal less, including all utilities.
But we checked it out anyway, and while it was definitely a nice place, the whole exchange left a bad taste in our mouths. The guy kept saying, "See, same furniture! Same appliances! Same bathroom!" as if to reassure me that there was nothing deceptive going on. Never mind that this flat was quite a bit bigger and nicer than the others. When we told the guy that we definitely couldn't afford it, he asked us our price limit, and when we told him, he said that he was pretty certain that the owner would come down to our range, but that we would have to take the apartment right then and there. "Can you take the place right now?" he asked. Well, no. You see, we're bound until the end of the month to this thing called a lease...
Dream apartment: Next we saw a place that we were told about by a friend of Terezia's named Katka. Katka and her husband run a bookstore in the center of town on Medena, and they seem to know everyone in Bratislava. A retired friend of hers looks after a few apartments, and one located on Heydukova recently became available. The rent Katka mentioned was right at the upper limit of our range, but she didn't know whether it also included utilities (it's common for apartments here to either include utilities in the rental price or list a set monthly fee for utilities that you pay the owner with the rent). The second we sit foot in this place, I knew immediately that the rent wasn't going to cover utilities.
Firstly, the building itself was quite old, with a beautifully ornate 19th-century facade. The apartment was massive - 100 square meters - and it had beautiful hardwood floors, high vaulted ceilings, and stylish modern furniture. We were in love. The apartment actually had two bedrooms and a super nice, modern kitchen. Katka's friend who showed us the place was this really nice older fellow who gave off a bohemian vibe (as in the lifestyle, not the Czech region) and had a good sense of humor. But I felt sad and defeated as we walked through the place because it was clear that the utilities would push the rent well out of our reach. What a tease!
Since most people's eyes will probably glaze over before they even finish the first paragraph of this post, I'll leave the next round of apartment rental fun for Part 2 of Bratislava Apartment Hunt 2012!™.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Miletička and mushrooms update!
So, in my post in September about Miletička, Bratislava's outdoor farmer's market, I lamented the lack of more exotic produce, like figs, medjool dates, and wild mushrooms. Well, apparently mushroom season arrived a bit late this year, as just this past weekend we finally saw countless vendors selling plump porcinis, meaty chanterelles, and some other varieties of wild mushrooms. (But sadly, no black trumpet chanterelles, which are a favorite of mine - not sure if they grow here). We bought some and made a tasty wild mushroom lasagna, one of my very favorite things to eat.
This is also nice because Terezia's parents and brother, who are avid mushroom hunters, say that in the region where they live, the mushroom season has been tragically sad, with nary a porcini to be found. This was due to a lack of rain in the area at the right time. Usually they bring home porcinis by the sackful and then dry them, and we get a year-long supply of 'em. Sadly, that's not going to happen this year. But other regions in Slovakia appeared to do quite well, judging by what we saw at Miletička. So, at least we won't be completely deprived of these forest-floor delicacies this year.
So, probably not a very earth-shattering post (unless you ask my taste buds), but I didn't want to misrepresent Miletička. I'm just happy we don't have to trek out to Vienna if we want to make something involving wild mushrooms.
This is also nice because Terezia's parents and brother, who are avid mushroom hunters, say that in the region where they live, the mushroom season has been tragically sad, with nary a porcini to be found. This was due to a lack of rain in the area at the right time. Usually they bring home porcinis by the sackful and then dry them, and we get a year-long supply of 'em. Sadly, that's not going to happen this year. But other regions in Slovakia appeared to do quite well, judging by what we saw at Miletička. So, at least we won't be completely deprived of these forest-floor delicacies this year.
So, probably not a very earth-shattering post (unless you ask my taste buds), but I didn't want to misrepresent Miletička. I'm just happy we don't have to trek out to Vienna if we want to make something involving wild mushrooms.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
The cultural spectacle that is Dajto Sexy Sport
This is already kind of old news in Slovakia, but it's so amusing and silly that I couldn't not bring it up. TV network Dajto recently decided to spice up the world of sports news by airing a new nightly show called Dajto Sexy Sport, on which said sports news is delivered by young women while they gradually take off their clothes, piece by piece in a kind of strip tease, until the end when they're completely topless and wearing nothing but underwear. Talk about pegging your demographic.
According to Wikipedia, Dajto, which launched just this past August, is the first channel in Slovakia to target "active, young" men. Its programming consists of various foreign and domestic shows and films that appeal to a predominantly young, male audience. No surprises there.
But this got me thinking, is Slovakia more tolerant of nudity than the US? While Slovakia is perhaps a bit more laid back with regard to the US in terms of its acceptance of nudity, I wouldn't want to give the impression that this place is some cool, progressive bastion of liberalness, because it's actually a pretty conservative country overall (and extremely catholic). And while nudity seems to be more prevalent in the media here, it doesn't usually seem to be presented in a particularly tasteful or enlightened way.
For example, in the uber popular trashy tabloid Nový čas one can find a pointless array of photos of topless women in various contexts and situations, which may explain why the tabloid seems to be just as popular with men as with women. As far as these things go, it's fairly benign, albeit cringe-enducingly sleazy. Nový čas also happens to be the best selling daily in the country by a fairly wide margin which, sadly, says a lot about the average Slovak's thirst for real news.
Rather than promote a more progressive or enlightened take on nudity, I think publications like Nový čas are just trying to see what they can get away with - whatever sells more copies or (in the case of Dajto) attracts more viewers. So, it's exploitative and sleazy, rather than enlightened. (And from what I gather, gender equality here is in some ways stuck in the 1950s).
Of course in the US, such material would be branded pornography and banned from being sold in places where kids under 18 could purchase or peruse it. You'd also have religious wingnuts flipping out, decrying the moral decline of society or whatever. Yes, America is far too uptight about nudity and sex, particularly when you consider its longstanding love-affair with violence.
However, here in Slovakia, minority parliamentary party OL'aNO recently announced its intention to pass a law that would ban mainstream publications like Nový čas from publishing nude photos. Given OL'aNO's minority in parliament, however, I'm not sure how much traction they'll get, but who knows. If such a law were to go through, would Slovaks be up in arms about it? Would OL'aNO still be getting their underwear in a knot if the photos were presented in an artistic non-sexist context, a la Man Ray?
Meanwhile, Slovak Culture Minister Marek Maďarič recently announced his incredibly delayed discovery of the garbage on prime time TV by singling out some of the popular reality shows as being responsible for the "barbarization" of the nation. What was funny about this is that even though these shows have been airing for years, he only just found out about them, demonstrating that he's really got his finger on the pulse of contemporary Slovak culture. However, he made no mention of Dajto Sexy Sport (that I'm aware of), but I wonder what he'll say several years down the road when he finally gets around to noticing it.
So, I'm hesitant to make any claim that Slovakia is significantly more progressive over nudity. I get the impression that while some people here may not approve of it (particularly older adults), they tend to shrug their shoulders and get on with their lives, rather than make a stink about it.
Ultimately, I think a lot of people in Slovakia have more pressing issues to deal with. The average national wage stands at around €800 per month, while the cost of goods is not less expensive in proportion with that. Compared to countries like Germany or Sweden, making ends meet in Slovakia is quite a bit more challenging, and in the grand scheme of things, women baring their breasts on TV or in popular gutter tabloids probably doesn't seem like that huge of a concern to many. And while it's nice to know that Slovakia seems to be a bit less uptight about nudity, that doesn't mean it's always handled tastefully.
The problem, however, is - surprise! surprise! - apparently the women are pretty lousy when it comes to actually delivering the news with any sort of authority or credibility. I obviously don't know Slovak well enough to tell the difference, but people who do assure me that these women come off like airheads. Professional news anchors or sports broadcasters they're obviously not. Instead, the execs at Dajto apparently picked several ladies from the local porn industry or their favorite strip clubs who were game enough to give it a try. Clearly, the content of the sports news is secondary.
According to Wikipedia, Dajto, which launched just this past August, is the first channel in Slovakia to target "active, young" men. Its programming consists of various foreign and domestic shows and films that appeal to a predominantly young, male audience. No surprises there.
But this got me thinking, is Slovakia more tolerant of nudity than the US? While Slovakia is perhaps a bit more laid back with regard to the US in terms of its acceptance of nudity, I wouldn't want to give the impression that this place is some cool, progressive bastion of liberalness, because it's actually a pretty conservative country overall (and extremely catholic). And while nudity seems to be more prevalent in the media here, it doesn't usually seem to be presented in a particularly tasteful or enlightened way.
For example, in the uber popular trashy tabloid Nový čas one can find a pointless array of photos of topless women in various contexts and situations, which may explain why the tabloid seems to be just as popular with men as with women. As far as these things go, it's fairly benign, albeit cringe-enducingly sleazy. Nový čas also happens to be the best selling daily in the country by a fairly wide margin which, sadly, says a lot about the average Slovak's thirst for real news.
Rather than promote a more progressive or enlightened take on nudity, I think publications like Nový čas are just trying to see what they can get away with - whatever sells more copies or (in the case of Dajto) attracts more viewers. So, it's exploitative and sleazy, rather than enlightened. (And from what I gather, gender equality here is in some ways stuck in the 1950s).
Of course in the US, such material would be branded pornography and banned from being sold in places where kids under 18 could purchase or peruse it. You'd also have religious wingnuts flipping out, decrying the moral decline of society or whatever. Yes, America is far too uptight about nudity and sex, particularly when you consider its longstanding love-affair with violence.
However, here in Slovakia, minority parliamentary party OL'aNO recently announced its intention to pass a law that would ban mainstream publications like Nový čas from publishing nude photos. Given OL'aNO's minority in parliament, however, I'm not sure how much traction they'll get, but who knows. If such a law were to go through, would Slovaks be up in arms about it? Would OL'aNO still be getting their underwear in a knot if the photos were presented in an artistic non-sexist context, a la Man Ray?
Meanwhile, Slovak Culture Minister Marek Maďarič recently announced his incredibly delayed discovery of the garbage on prime time TV by singling out some of the popular reality shows as being responsible for the "barbarization" of the nation. What was funny about this is that even though these shows have been airing for years, he only just found out about them, demonstrating that he's really got his finger on the pulse of contemporary Slovak culture. However, he made no mention of Dajto Sexy Sport (that I'm aware of), but I wonder what he'll say several years down the road when he finally gets around to noticing it.
So, I'm hesitant to make any claim that Slovakia is significantly more progressive over nudity. I get the impression that while some people here may not approve of it (particularly older adults), they tend to shrug their shoulders and get on with their lives, rather than make a stink about it.
Ultimately, I think a lot of people in Slovakia have more pressing issues to deal with. The average national wage stands at around €800 per month, while the cost of goods is not less expensive in proportion with that. Compared to countries like Germany or Sweden, making ends meet in Slovakia is quite a bit more challenging, and in the grand scheme of things, women baring their breasts on TV or in popular gutter tabloids probably doesn't seem like that huge of a concern to many. And while it's nice to know that Slovakia seems to be a bit less uptight about nudity, that doesn't mean it's always handled tastefully.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Differing attitudes towards body odor
Sometime last winter around the holidays during the epic four hour train ride from Podrecany back home to Bratislava, an elderly woman entered our enclosed six-seat cabin in Levice and asked if she could sit in the only available seat, which happened to be right next to me. I nodded yes, she sat down, but as soon as she unzipped her thick, down winter coat, a putrid, ungodly stench permeated the cabin and pummeled my nose. I looked across at Terezia, who crinkled her nose as she exchanged my glance with a knowing roll of her eyes.
A mild bit of BO this was not. Think of the most full blown, hasn't-showered-in-two-weeks, Berkeley, crusty gutter-punk armpit stench you could ever possibly imagine, and then multiply it by 10. I am not exaggerating - this woman's odor was a nauseating death-cloud of olfactory pestilence. And from Levice, we still had about two hours to go.
This was not an isolated incident. Here in Slovakia, I've encountered too many instances to count of BO powerful enough to trigger my gag reflexes. When I was a kid I always used to hear people joke about the French reeking of BO on the metro in Paris. But when I finally spent three weeks there a few years ago, I didn't smell a thing the entire time. Neither have I ever come across any particularly memorable odors on any of my trips to Italy.
Yet in Slovakia you'd be hard pressed to find a tram or bus without at least one person whose toxic stench fans out in a 5 foot radius.
But here's the thing I've noticed: in my experience, about 90% of the time, the body odor comes from people aged roughly 45 and up. Rarely does the stench emanate from people who are younger. In fact, if you're on the tram and surrounded by people in their 20s and 30s, you're more likely to encounter pungent clouds of cloying perfume and cologne. But if an older person gets on there's a bit more of a chance that he or she will come accompanied by an stench pungent enough to make the hardiest of plants wilt, and for which the perfumes and colognes of the younger generations are no match.
So, why is this? Terezia says that back in the days of communism it was normal for people to take about one bath per week. Back then, baths were seen as somewhat of a luxury, especially in small towns and villages, much like where she grew up, and it wasn't uncommon for people to stink as a result. Besides, hot water in many panelaks tended to be erratic, and who wants to subject themselves to a freezing cold shower? Simply put - during communism, BO was socially acceptable, or at least an unavoidable part of life.
This could explain why older people today who spent a significant portion of their lives under communism tend to be the sources of the offending odor, and why younger people who spent more of their adult lives in the post-communist world, after western goods and values flooded the landscape, are far less likely to smell.
Furthermore, pensions in Slovakia are criminally meager. It's not uncommon for retired people to have to live on as little as 300 euros per month. That means that buying deodorant (which costs about the same as it does in the US) is understandably not a high priority, while keeping one's water bill down by not showering every day, is.
So why do I care? Have I been conditioned by a society that says BO is bad? Maybe to some degree? Compared to most of the world, one can rightly argue that America has a freakish obsession with never smelling bad. Frankly, I can tolerate BO in light doses, unlike some people, and I can admire at least on principle how some people shun deodorant as a symbol of a decadent society that has completely lost touch with nature. BO is the natural human scent, after all (although showering regularly, even without ever using deodorant, does keep the BO in check).
I mean, I grew up around hippies, and everyone knows that hippies tend to be aloof about BO, if not enthusiastic. I've never considered myself a deodorant nazi, and I think it's good to not use anti-perspirants that clog your pores with evil chemicals. Sure, I use deodorant, but I absolutely refuse to wear anything scented. I hate men's cologne with a passion, and I go out of my way to buy deodorant, soaps, and hair products that say "unscented" on the packaging. The point is, while I'm normally not a source of any offending body odor, and while I'm not a fan of the smell, I don't go out of my way to make myself smell unnatural or cover anything up.
Ultimately, I suspect that much like the way some people secretly kind of like the smell of their own farts, other people kind of secretly revel in the stench of their own body odor. And we all know how unpleasant it is to be subjected to someone else's flatulence! I think the same can apply to BO.
So, what do you think? Did this woman on the train cross the line? Was it rude of her to subject everyone else in the cabin to her deathly odor? I'm inclined to say yes, if only because I've sat near plenty of other people on trains or trams here who at worst had detectable yet much milder BO, and it didn't phase me, or none at all. However, if we were in a much poorer country where all generations smelled strongly of BO, I suppose I'd have to say no.
Either way, it's interesting to live in a country where people aren't as uptight about the way they smell. On the other hand, some people really do smell awful!
A mild bit of BO this was not. Think of the most full blown, hasn't-showered-in-two-weeks, Berkeley, crusty gutter-punk armpit stench you could ever possibly imagine, and then multiply it by 10. I am not exaggerating - this woman's odor was a nauseating death-cloud of olfactory pestilence. And from Levice, we still had about two hours to go.
This was not an isolated incident. Here in Slovakia, I've encountered too many instances to count of BO powerful enough to trigger my gag reflexes. When I was a kid I always used to hear people joke about the French reeking of BO on the metro in Paris. But when I finally spent three weeks there a few years ago, I didn't smell a thing the entire time. Neither have I ever come across any particularly memorable odors on any of my trips to Italy.
Yet in Slovakia you'd be hard pressed to find a tram or bus without at least one person whose toxic stench fans out in a 5 foot radius.
But here's the thing I've noticed: in my experience, about 90% of the time, the body odor comes from people aged roughly 45 and up. Rarely does the stench emanate from people who are younger. In fact, if you're on the tram and surrounded by people in their 20s and 30s, you're more likely to encounter pungent clouds of cloying perfume and cologne. But if an older person gets on there's a bit more of a chance that he or she will come accompanied by an stench pungent enough to make the hardiest of plants wilt, and for which the perfumes and colognes of the younger generations are no match.
So, why is this? Terezia says that back in the days of communism it was normal for people to take about one bath per week. Back then, baths were seen as somewhat of a luxury, especially in small towns and villages, much like where she grew up, and it wasn't uncommon for people to stink as a result. Besides, hot water in many panelaks tended to be erratic, and who wants to subject themselves to a freezing cold shower? Simply put - during communism, BO was socially acceptable, or at least an unavoidable part of life.
This could explain why older people today who spent a significant portion of their lives under communism tend to be the sources of the offending odor, and why younger people who spent more of their adult lives in the post-communist world, after western goods and values flooded the landscape, are far less likely to smell.
Furthermore, pensions in Slovakia are criminally meager. It's not uncommon for retired people to have to live on as little as 300 euros per month. That means that buying deodorant (which costs about the same as it does in the US) is understandably not a high priority, while keeping one's water bill down by not showering every day, is.
So why do I care? Have I been conditioned by a society that says BO is bad? Maybe to some degree? Compared to most of the world, one can rightly argue that America has a freakish obsession with never smelling bad. Frankly, I can tolerate BO in light doses, unlike some people, and I can admire at least on principle how some people shun deodorant as a symbol of a decadent society that has completely lost touch with nature. BO is the natural human scent, after all (although showering regularly, even without ever using deodorant, does keep the BO in check).
I mean, I grew up around hippies, and everyone knows that hippies tend to be aloof about BO, if not enthusiastic. I've never considered myself a deodorant nazi, and I think it's good to not use anti-perspirants that clog your pores with evil chemicals. Sure, I use deodorant, but I absolutely refuse to wear anything scented. I hate men's cologne with a passion, and I go out of my way to buy deodorant, soaps, and hair products that say "unscented" on the packaging. The point is, while I'm normally not a source of any offending body odor, and while I'm not a fan of the smell, I don't go out of my way to make myself smell unnatural or cover anything up.
Ultimately, I suspect that much like the way some people secretly kind of like the smell of their own farts, other people kind of secretly revel in the stench of their own body odor. And we all know how unpleasant it is to be subjected to someone else's flatulence! I think the same can apply to BO.
So, what do you think? Did this woman on the train cross the line? Was it rude of her to subject everyone else in the cabin to her deathly odor? I'm inclined to say yes, if only because I've sat near plenty of other people on trains or trams here who at worst had detectable yet much milder BO, and it didn't phase me, or none at all. However, if we were in a much poorer country where all generations smelled strongly of BO, I suppose I'd have to say no.
Either way, it's interesting to live in a country where people aren't as uptight about the way they smell. On the other hand, some people really do smell awful!
Monday, October 8, 2012
The new Spectacular Slovakia is out!
As mentioned in this post, I had the chance to write six (well, five and a half) articles for this year's (2012/2013) issue of Spectacular Slovakia. The magazine is out now, and we had a groovy launch party a couple weeks ago to celebrate.
I don't believe much of the content is available on-line (nor will it be for sometime), but you can at least check out the table of contents and some sample pages, or order a copy, if you feel so compelled.
What caught the attention of the people behind the magazine (and what compelled them to contact me for this project) was this blog post that I wrote back in January, about how in the 1960s the communist regime bulldozed nearly all of old Jewish quarter and a large chunk of buildings adjacent to it to clear the way for the UFO (SNP) Bridge and the connecting freeway. I also wrote a sequel to that post that discusses other areas or structures that were demolished by the communists, and Spectacular folks liked the before and after photos I included in both posts. I took the mad, wordy, and pedantic ramblings of these posts and reworked and condensed them into a ~1500 word article on the subject, which will hopefully give future travelers a little insight into why the historical center is as small as it is (compared to other European cities), and why it seems to get cut off so abruptly at certain points.
I also did an obligatory but incredibly fun article on Bratislava's historical center and main attractions, as well as three shorter pieces about where to find traditional Slovak culture in Bratislava, Bratislava's swankier side, and things to do and see around Bratislava's outskirts. Basically, they entrusted me with writing all of the pieces on Bratislava for this issue. There is also a short sidebar piece on miestny rozhlas, which is a condensed, new-and-improved version of this blog post.
The other articles were written by Slovak journalism students from a local university, which is great because it gives them the chance to write interesting and fun articles in English, and also allows them to show off their country to a foreign audience. Another good chunk of the articles were written by an American couple who I have never met, but who are clearly enthusiastic about Slovakia. Finally, a renowned British photographer named Chris Steele-Perkins, came to Slovakia to do a photo-essay for the issue. (He first made his name in the early 70s by delving into the culture of English teds, or teddy boys, and taking photos of them, and I got to see a lecture he did for the journalism students who contributed to the magazine this year).
At any rate, it was an immensely awesome experience to write these pieces, and it's equally awesome to have been published in what is a unique and worthwhile travel guide. I'm hugely indebted to the folks at the Spectator for giving me this chance, and I hope I'll get the chance to contribute something in the next issue.
 |
| The new Spectacular Slovakia tastes good too! |
I don't believe much of the content is available on-line (nor will it be for sometime), but you can at least check out the table of contents and some sample pages, or order a copy, if you feel so compelled.
What caught the attention of the people behind the magazine (and what compelled them to contact me for this project) was this blog post that I wrote back in January, about how in the 1960s the communist regime bulldozed nearly all of old Jewish quarter and a large chunk of buildings adjacent to it to clear the way for the UFO (SNP) Bridge and the connecting freeway. I also wrote a sequel to that post that discusses other areas or structures that were demolished by the communists, and Spectacular folks liked the before and after photos I included in both posts. I took the mad, wordy, and pedantic ramblings of these posts and reworked and condensed them into a ~1500 word article on the subject, which will hopefully give future travelers a little insight into why the historical center is as small as it is (compared to other European cities), and why it seems to get cut off so abruptly at certain points.
I also did an obligatory but incredibly fun article on Bratislava's historical center and main attractions, as well as three shorter pieces about where to find traditional Slovak culture in Bratislava, Bratislava's swankier side, and things to do and see around Bratislava's outskirts. Basically, they entrusted me with writing all of the pieces on Bratislava for this issue. There is also a short sidebar piece on miestny rozhlas, which is a condensed, new-and-improved version of this blog post.
The other articles were written by Slovak journalism students from a local university, which is great because it gives them the chance to write interesting and fun articles in English, and also allows them to show off their country to a foreign audience. Another good chunk of the articles were written by an American couple who I have never met, but who are clearly enthusiastic about Slovakia. Finally, a renowned British photographer named Chris Steele-Perkins, came to Slovakia to do a photo-essay for the issue. (He first made his name in the early 70s by delving into the culture of English teds, or teddy boys, and taking photos of them, and I got to see a lecture he did for the journalism students who contributed to the magazine this year).
At any rate, it was an immensely awesome experience to write these pieces, and it's equally awesome to have been published in what is a unique and worthwhile travel guide. I'm hugely indebted to the folks at the Spectator for giving me this chance, and I hope I'll get the chance to contribute something in the next issue.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
One Year in Slovakia!
One year ago today, Terezia and I arrived in Slovakia, frazzled and jet-lagged, but ready to begin what would be an exciting, frustrating, fun, vexing, fascinating, and challenging year. It's kind of hard to believe that we lasted a year, which was our goal. We pessimistically figured that we'd come here for a year, not find jobs (or at least not particularly satisfying jobs), then go back to the US with our heads hanging in defeat. I'm happy to report that that's not the case.
At any rate, I thought I'd run through a quick summary of what this year entailed, because it's nice to contemplate what we managed to accomplish in the land of hruškovica and pivo.
After a brief and somewhat unproductive first week that served as our introduction to Slovak-style bureaucracy, we took off for Italy for 3.5 weeks, where we had a consistently fabulous vacation, knowing full well that it could be the last 3.5 week vacation we'd be able to take for a long time.
When we returned, we dove headfirst into the murky sea of Slovak bureaucracy in an effort to register our marriage in Slovakia and get my residency permit. It seemed insurmountable initially, and the entire process was stressful as hell, especially when waking up at the crack of dawn to wait for hours at the charming Alien Police only to be told that it would be next to impossible to get my residency before my three month EU travel visa expired. But by Xmas, we'd worked it out, and miraculously, I was granted residency literally days before I was supposed to have flown back to the US.
Finding a place to live proved daunting, as just about every available apartment in our price range in the center of town was significantly flawed in one way or another. But we were so desperate to get out of Bernolakovo and into our own place that we settled on an apartment, which, while not ideal, is at least very centrally located and has a decent kitchen in which Terezia can work her culinary magic. (But we'll be keeping an eye out for a better place before our lease is up in December).
Then came the job-hunt, which was the most frustrating challenge of all. Countless resumes were sent into what seemed like a black hole. Even though we have experience up the wazoo, and we both speak fluent English, recruiters just weren't biting. I had an interview for an English teaching position at Empire, a language school with extremely dubious methodology that didn't give two shits about my Cambridge CELTA qualification. They wanted to hire me, but I turned them down! Any other schools who published job listings during this period seemed similarly sketchy.
Being jobless for 7+ months was particularly demoralizing for Terezia, who felt unwanted in her own country, despite having so much to offer. I should admit, however, that I didn't mind it so much myself, and I tried to take advantage of (and revel in) the time off as much as possible. 10 years at a dead end desk job will do that to you. Money was tight, but I was free!!!
By spring morale was low, and we were even seriously toying with the idea of moving to Prague.
But when Terezia spotted a job listing for a chef for the US embassy in late April, I had a really good feeling about it. Terezia was up against a gazillion candidates, but I knew she had something that doubtlessly most of her presumably Slovak competition lacked - loads of professional experience (and passion for) cooking NON-Slovak food. Having dined and worked as a chef all over the SF Bay Area, Terezia knows exactly what the discerning palettes of those demanding and well-traveled gourmands look for in food, and she can deliver it. She can cook food that's fresh and healthy without making compromises in the flavor department, and that's clearly what endeared her to the ambassador and his family. (I mean, I'm not trying to insult the culinary traditions of an entire culture, but when you look at what you're eating on a day-to-day basis, would you rather be weighed down every afternoon by a pile of Bryndzové Halušky, or nourished by a perfectly cooked, excellently seasoned and moist salmon fillet? Would you rather be punched in the gut by a mound of fried cheese, or pleasantly sated by roasted chicken thighs slathered in fresh, homemade basil pesto? Would you rather have a fresh salad with seasonal ingredients, or well... no salad at all? You get the picture).
As for me, well, during winter, when I was busily writing blog posts about our short travel excursions, and epic lunatic rantings about Bratislava's intriguingly bizarre urban fabric, Terezia sent the blog's url to the editor-in-chief at the Slovak Spectator (a local English language newspaper), completely unbeknownst to me. They took a gander at the blog and apparently dug what they saw, as they soon contacted me and arranged a meeting at which they asked if I'd be interested in writing some articles about Bratislava for their upcoming issue of Spectacular Slovakia, a nice and in-depth Slovak travel magazine/guide (written in English) that they publish once a year. To say that I was elated would be an understatement.
(By the way, the new magazine is out - look for another post on that soon).
Long story short, they were impressed enough with my articles to ask if I'd consider taking a position at the paper as an assistant editor, since one of theirs was leaving in July. I'm hugely appreciative that they decided to give this total weirdo from California a chance to take a stab at something I have always wanted to do. Of course, being a good journalistic editor is quite a different kettle of fish from merely being a decent writer, and I suppose the jury is still out on just how good of a job I'm doing. It's quite challenging, but immensely gratifying, and I'm learning and absorbing new things every week, something I'm not sure I can say about some of my previous jobs.
I also had a fun-filled month and a half becoming intimately familiar with Slovakia's health system due to a particularly horrible back blowout! And, we got to take part last December in a zabijacka! How many people can say that?!
And finally, we did get to travel a bit, but not nearly enough. We have taken a few trips to Prague, a city that I find to be utterly awe-inspiring and drool-inducing, and Budapest, a city that has a lot to offer and seems totally alive and livable, as well as nearby Vienna, which I find to be a wee bit bland visually, but still appealing culturally. Sadly, we still have not made it to the Croatian coast (I'm dying to see Rovinj, Split, and Dubrovnik), or Krakow, a small city whose gorgeous medieval architecture beckons. And of course, we still desperately need to see Košice, Slovensky raj, and Orava in Slovakia! Hopefully next year.
So, I'm not exactly sure where things are headed, but life here has taken a positive and intriguing turn, and we're both curious to see where we'll go from here! Also, a thousand thanks to all of our friends and family who gave us lots of help and encouragement!
At any rate, I thought I'd run through a quick summary of what this year entailed, because it's nice to contemplate what we managed to accomplish in the land of hruškovica and pivo.
After a brief and somewhat unproductive first week that served as our introduction to Slovak-style bureaucracy, we took off for Italy for 3.5 weeks, where we had a consistently fabulous vacation, knowing full well that it could be the last 3.5 week vacation we'd be able to take for a long time.
 |
| Siena, Italy! |
When we returned, we dove headfirst into the murky sea of Slovak bureaucracy in an effort to register our marriage in Slovakia and get my residency permit. It seemed insurmountable initially, and the entire process was stressful as hell, especially when waking up at the crack of dawn to wait for hours at the charming Alien Police only to be told that it would be next to impossible to get my residency before my three month EU travel visa expired. But by Xmas, we'd worked it out, and miraculously, I was granted residency literally days before I was supposed to have flown back to the US.
 |
| Bratislava's lovely Alien Police, where we spent countless hours in line having oodles of life-affirming fun. |
Finding a place to live proved daunting, as just about every available apartment in our price range in the center of town was significantly flawed in one way or another. But we were so desperate to get out of Bernolakovo and into our own place that we settled on an apartment, which, while not ideal, is at least very centrally located and has a decent kitchen in which Terezia can work her culinary magic. (But we'll be keeping an eye out for a better place before our lease is up in December).
Then came the job-hunt, which was the most frustrating challenge of all. Countless resumes were sent into what seemed like a black hole. Even though we have experience up the wazoo, and we both speak fluent English, recruiters just weren't biting. I had an interview for an English teaching position at Empire, a language school with extremely dubious methodology that didn't give two shits about my Cambridge CELTA qualification. They wanted to hire me, but I turned them down! Any other schools who published job listings during this period seemed similarly sketchy.
Being jobless for 7+ months was particularly demoralizing for Terezia, who felt unwanted in her own country, despite having so much to offer. I should admit, however, that I didn't mind it so much myself, and I tried to take advantage of (and revel in) the time off as much as possible. 10 years at a dead end desk job will do that to you. Money was tight, but I was free!!!
By spring morale was low, and we were even seriously toying with the idea of moving to Prague.
But when Terezia spotted a job listing for a chef for the US embassy in late April, I had a really good feeling about it. Terezia was up against a gazillion candidates, but I knew she had something that doubtlessly most of her presumably Slovak competition lacked - loads of professional experience (and passion for) cooking NON-Slovak food. Having dined and worked as a chef all over the SF Bay Area, Terezia knows exactly what the discerning palettes of those demanding and well-traveled gourmands look for in food, and she can deliver it. She can cook food that's fresh and healthy without making compromises in the flavor department, and that's clearly what endeared her to the ambassador and his family. (I mean, I'm not trying to insult the culinary traditions of an entire culture, but when you look at what you're eating on a day-to-day basis, would you rather be weighed down every afternoon by a pile of Bryndzové Halušky, or nourished by a perfectly cooked, excellently seasoned and moist salmon fillet? Would you rather be punched in the gut by a mound of fried cheese, or pleasantly sated by roasted chicken thighs slathered in fresh, homemade basil pesto? Would you rather have a fresh salad with seasonal ingredients, or well... no salad at all? You get the picture).
As for me, well, during winter, when I was busily writing blog posts about our short travel excursions, and epic lunatic rantings about Bratislava's intriguingly bizarre urban fabric, Terezia sent the blog's url to the editor-in-chief at the Slovak Spectator (a local English language newspaper), completely unbeknownst to me. They took a gander at the blog and apparently dug what they saw, as they soon contacted me and arranged a meeting at which they asked if I'd be interested in writing some articles about Bratislava for their upcoming issue of Spectacular Slovakia, a nice and in-depth Slovak travel magazine/guide (written in English) that they publish once a year. To say that I was elated would be an understatement.
(By the way, the new magazine is out - look for another post on that soon).
Long story short, they were impressed enough with my articles to ask if I'd consider taking a position at the paper as an assistant editor, since one of theirs was leaving in July. I'm hugely appreciative that they decided to give this total weirdo from California a chance to take a stab at something I have always wanted to do. Of course, being a good journalistic editor is quite a different kettle of fish from merely being a decent writer, and I suppose the jury is still out on just how good of a job I'm doing. It's quite challenging, but immensely gratifying, and I'm learning and absorbing new things every week, something I'm not sure I can say about some of my previous jobs.
I also had a fun-filled month and a half becoming intimately familiar with Slovakia's health system due to a particularly horrible back blowout! And, we got to take part last December in a zabijacka! How many people can say that?!
And finally, we did get to travel a bit, but not nearly enough. We have taken a few trips to Prague, a city that I find to be utterly awe-inspiring and drool-inducing, and Budapest, a city that has a lot to offer and seems totally alive and livable, as well as nearby Vienna, which I find to be a wee bit bland visually, but still appealing culturally. Sadly, we still have not made it to the Croatian coast (I'm dying to see Rovinj, Split, and Dubrovnik), or Krakow, a small city whose gorgeous medieval architecture beckons. And of course, we still desperately need to see Košice, Slovensky raj, and Orava in Slovakia! Hopefully next year.
 |
| Budapest! |
So, I'm not exactly sure where things are headed, but life here has taken a positive and intriguing turn, and we're both curious to see where we'll go from here! Also, a thousand thanks to all of our friends and family who gave us lots of help and encouragement!
Sunday, September 16, 2012
More Danube Bike Trail: Riding into Austria
I had this goal of getting Terezia to ride with me to Hainburg so that we could stop at one of the cafes along the river and have a beer, and then complain about how expensive the beer is compared to Slovakia. And that's exactly what we did!
Terezia borrowed her mom's clunky single-speed cruiser and we took a leisurely ride out to Hainburg on an amazingly gorgeous early September Sunday afternoon. Terezia's brother Tony insisted that she wouldn't be able to make it to Hainburg on that bike, but c'mon - the thing may not be ideal, but it has two wheels, two pedals, and it's not broken, so of course Terezia and the bike handled the ~22 mile trip just fine. So take that, Tony!
From the Stare Mesto, you cross the Novy Most (now called SNP Bridge) and pick up the path in Petrzalka, which starts off straight as an arrow.
After a few miles you hit the Austrian border and the old border patrol check point, which thanks to the EU Schengen Area open borders agreement, is completely uneventful, save for a pub on the Slovak side.
After passing the check point, if you look off to your right you can see Bratislava's Karlova ves district in the distance, which is a dense cluster of panelaks nestled on a hill on the opposite side of the Danube (from Austria). It's like Petrzalka but with a view! I swear, when Karlova ves and Petrzalka were being built back in the days of communism, Austrians on the other side of the border must have been scratching their heads.
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| The panelak insanity that is Bratislava's Karlova ves borough, as seen from Austria. |
The path continues on, running parallel to a highway that is moderately busy with cars, most of which seem to have Slovak plates. A good number of Slovaks work in Austria because the pay is generally better, and some of these people may be commuting to work depending on the time of day, while others are probably going shopping.
Eventually you hit the tiny village of Wolfsthal, which is pretty unremarkable, given that a two-lane highway runs through it. Unfortunately, the bike path temporarily fizzles out at the start of the village and you have to join the cars on the highway through the center of the village for about half a mile. But given that most of the traffic consists of Slovaks who are probably paranoid about the potential complications and penalties of clipping a cyclist in a foreign country, most cars give you a wide berth when passing you. Then the bike trail picks back up and all is tranquil again.
After Wolfsthal, the path becomes a bit more scenic, and at certain points you can see Bratislava's Devin castle ruins off in the distance.
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| Be sure to click this one to enlarge: off on the horizon, that light brown smudge at center-left is Devin castle. |
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| Signage along the bike path in Austria. |
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| Hainburg's hilltop castle ruins. |
Once you reach Hainburg, you ride through the town and eventually (finally) reconnect with the Danube. The town is nice, quaint, and looks awfully similar to a lot of Slovak villages in terms of the architecture and layout. The center of town still has one of its medieval gates and its fun to see busses barely clear it when driving through. Walking through Hainburg for the first time, however, it dawned on me that the town was definitely compromised by having a fairly busy highway run through the center of it.
The shore along the Danube is pleasantly scenic and mellow. It's also kind of isolated from the village because it's cut off by a thick wall on top of which there are train tracks and a little station. The wall itself seems to be there to prevent the town from getting flooded, something that's happened numerous times throughout its history.
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| An old postcard of Hainburg, as seen from across the Danube. |
At any rate, we got to the little outdoor cafe overlooking the Danube, and interestingly, all the people around us were speaking Slovak, and even the waitress was speaking limited, broken Slovak to the clientele. Hainburg is clearly a popular weekend destination for Bratislavans.
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| A nice cold beer to make us totally dehydrated for the ride back to Bratislava! |
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| The Danube Bike Trail goes through Hainburg before crossing the white bridge in this photo across the Danube. |
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| Today a thick wall with train tracks on top separates Hainburg from its shore along the Danube, presumably because of a long history of flooding. |
I had a goal of, at some point, riding all the way to Vienna and taking the train back to Bratislava. It's totally doable, and it's an easy, flat ride. However, after passing through Hainburg and crossing the bridge over to the north side of the Danube, the path suddenly transforms from well paved to tightly packed gravel. Not ideal, but just barely ridable enough for a road bike. But after a little ways further down, the path devolves into dirt. I don't know how long it continues as a dirt trail, but needless to say, I really didn't want to take my road bike through it. I was kind of surprised, actually, because I have this stereotype of Austrians being really on top of things, and that the path would therefore be nicely paved all the way to Vienna. Not so, apparently. *Shakes fist at Austrians for not living up to stereotype.* But it's entirely possible that it only carries on as a dirt path for a 1/4 or 1/2 mile, so who knows?
At any rate, the ride back to Bratislava is kind of fun, as at various points you start catching glimpses of its funky and distinctive landmarks off in the distance.
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| Heading back to Bratislava. |
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| Sorry for this heinously blurry photo (my camera takes crappy photos when you zoom in beyond a certain point), but this is what you see of Bratislava from the Austrian border. |
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| The Bratislava castle and St. Martin's cathedral suddenly appear through the foliage along the path. |
Of course, once you're in Bratislava, the lovely UFO-shaped SNP Bridge is there to greet you and subdue you with laser beams.
Not a challenging ride by any means, but kind of fun, and good for those mornings when I don't have lots of time but want to get a ride in. Next will be getting to and riding up the bike path along the Morava River, and/or crossing the new "Chuck Norris" cycle/pedestrian bridge that crosses the Morava near Devin into Austria.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
The Danube Bike Trail
So, in late June I got an old Peugeot road bike that I bought fairly cheaply from some guy on Bazos.sk, which is kind of like the Slovak craigslist. I'm truly a sucker for those vintage, classic frames, and these old Peugeots are pretty sturdy and reliable. But I also wanted something that wasn't particularly special so that I wouldn't cry if something bad happened to it. I've dated the bike to 1980-81, and it was an entry-level model, nothing fancy. I had the brake and shifting cables replaced, and it needs a bit more work - could use a new crankset (I'd like to switch it to a triple), and maybe a new front derailleur, and at some point down the road some new wheels might be in order. But this bike fits well, it's a good solid frame, and it offers a pleasantly smooth ride. And this thing is fast!
So, given that most of Bratislava's streets resemble the pockmarked and pitted face of an acned teen, and as such are probably more conducive to the thicker tires of a hybrid or mountain bike (not to mention, Bratislava in general is not particularly bike friendly, i.e., no bike lanes, tight narrow roads, etc.), what the hell am I doing with a road bike, you might ask?
Well, there are bike paths along the Danube, going in both directions, and (at some points) on both sides of the river. Known as the Danube Bike Trail (or Dunajská cyklistická cesta in Slovak), it's actually part of a long bike path that runs along the Danube (obviously), which starts in Passau, Germany, goes through Austria and Vienna, and eventually meanders down the river to Budapest. For the most part, the paths are well paved and smooth, free of potholes, broken glass, and crazy Slovak drivers, and are generally quite flat. I've been riding the trail in either direction 3-4 times per week.
My friend Wade and his son rode from Budapest to Vienna a couple of years ago, and while I don't intend to make that kind of trek anytime soon (at least not with my bike in its current state), I do ride these paths as often as I can.
For the southeasterly path, I cross the Danube and head down the right bank. The path goes from Petržalka down through Čunovo and past the Danubiana modern art museum, and continues on down the river, well into Hungary. I usually get about 20-25 miles (maybe somewhere halfway between the Danubiana and the dam that crosses the river to Gabčíkovo) before turning around and heading back. My goal is to make it all the way to the dam by Gabčíkovo, cross the river into said town, and head back up the path on the left bank. But that would be about 80 miles round trip, and I'm not quite there yet, stamina-wise.
At any rate, the south/eastward path is well maintained and super smooth. Locals seem to love the stretch that goes from Petržalka to Čunovo, along which there are actually two parallel paths that run on both sides of a canal. The scenery does get a bit samey and slightly tedious at times, but there are stretches where it's fairly nice. The biggest challenge is the damn headwind. Often times, the wind blows downstream, so I'll fly down the path only to turn around and find myself having to downshift because I'm riding right into a formidable wind the whole way back. I suppose the headwind kind of makes up for the lack of hills?
Between Petržalka and Čunovo there are several outdoor pubs located roughly every few miles, and on hot weekend afternoons they're usually pretty bustling, not to mention a bit tempting.
Cyclists have to contend with a good number of in-line skaters, especially on weekends. They tend to sway side to side as they're cruising along, sometimes taking up the entire width of the path, seemingly oblivious to the fact that there are cyclists trying to pass them on their left. On hot days you typically see the female skaters totally oiled up and basically wearing nothing but bikinis and the men wearing only shorts. Some of them really haul ass, pretty much always without elbow and knee pads. I'd sure hate to see one of them eat it.
At one point you pass a small, picturesque lake that's on the outskirts of a village called Rusovce, which on hot days is swarming with people. But I've noticed that on weekday mornings one of the lake's shores is sometimes taken over by a clan of nudists who are, of course, all in their 60s and pretty out of shape.
Once you reach Čunovo, the path veers left and you cross a lengthy modern dam that passes over a section of the Danube that is so wide that it almost resembles a lake. The dam doesn't cross the entire river, but it takes you to a peninsula, the northern tip of which is home to the Danubiana modern art musuem. It's a nice gallery that hosts exhibitions of contemporary modern art and has a cool, offbeat outdoor sculpture garden (and strangely, at the time of writing, the impossibly clueless and/or totally callous lunkheads who run the museum still have the Asma al-Assad page up on their website. What the hell?).
After passing the Danubiana, the path looks like this (below) for miles and miles (and miles), and you practically have the road to yourself. The scenery becomes mind numbingly repetitive, and I kind of suspect it more or less stays that way until you get down to the picturesque area in the north of Hungary known as the Danube Bend, which begins after you pass the Hungarian border town Esztergom. But that is probably about 100 miles away.
Getting to Gabčíkovo would be nice, although someday I'd like to try to make it all the way down to Komárno, a town straddling the Danube (and the Slovak-Hungarian border) apparently named for its healthy mosquito population, but which is known for its massive historical military fortification. It's pretty far, though (maybe 60-ish miles from Bratislava) so I can picture myself having to take the train back.
Next up: riding the Danube bike trail into Austria!
Well, there are bike paths along the Danube, going in both directions, and (at some points) on both sides of the river. Known as the Danube Bike Trail (or Dunajská cyklistická cesta in Slovak), it's actually part of a long bike path that runs along the Danube (obviously), which starts in Passau, Germany, goes through Austria and Vienna, and eventually meanders down the river to Budapest. For the most part, the paths are well paved and smooth, free of potholes, broken glass, and crazy Slovak drivers, and are generally quite flat. I've been riding the trail in either direction 3-4 times per week.
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| The part of the Danube bike trail that goes from Vienna to Budapest. |
My friend Wade and his son rode from Budapest to Vienna a couple of years ago, and while I don't intend to make that kind of trek anytime soon (at least not with my bike in its current state), I do ride these paths as often as I can.
For the southeasterly path, I cross the Danube and head down the right bank. The path goes from Petržalka down through Čunovo and past the Danubiana modern art museum, and continues on down the river, well into Hungary. I usually get about 20-25 miles (maybe somewhere halfway between the Danubiana and the dam that crosses the river to Gabčíkovo) before turning around and heading back. My goal is to make it all the way to the dam by Gabčíkovo, cross the river into said town, and head back up the path on the left bank. But that would be about 80 miles round trip, and I'm not quite there yet, stamina-wise.
At any rate, the south/eastward path is well maintained and super smooth. Locals seem to love the stretch that goes from Petržalka to Čunovo, along which there are actually two parallel paths that run on both sides of a canal. The scenery does get a bit samey and slightly tedious at times, but there are stretches where it's fairly nice. The biggest challenge is the damn headwind. Often times, the wind blows downstream, so I'll fly down the path only to turn around and find myself having to downshift because I'm riding right into a formidable wind the whole way back. I suppose the headwind kind of makes up for the lack of hills?
Between Petržalka and Čunovo there are several outdoor pubs located roughly every few miles, and on hot weekend afternoons they're usually pretty bustling, not to mention a bit tempting.
Cyclists have to contend with a good number of in-line skaters, especially on weekends. They tend to sway side to side as they're cruising along, sometimes taking up the entire width of the path, seemingly oblivious to the fact that there are cyclists trying to pass them on their left. On hot days you typically see the female skaters totally oiled up and basically wearing nothing but bikinis and the men wearing only shorts. Some of them really haul ass, pretty much always without elbow and knee pads. I'd sure hate to see one of them eat it.
At one point you pass a small, picturesque lake that's on the outskirts of a village called Rusovce, which on hot days is swarming with people. But I've noticed that on weekday mornings one of the lake's shores is sometimes taken over by a clan of nudists who are, of course, all in their 60s and pretty out of shape.
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| On really hot weekend afternoons, this lake is teeming with people. The day I took this photo obviously wasn't one of those days. |
Once you reach Čunovo, the path veers left and you cross a lengthy modern dam that passes over a section of the Danube that is so wide that it almost resembles a lake. The dam doesn't cross the entire river, but it takes you to a peninsula, the northern tip of which is home to the Danubiana modern art musuem. It's a nice gallery that hosts exhibitions of contemporary modern art and has a cool, offbeat outdoor sculpture garden (and strangely, at the time of writing, the impossibly clueless and/or totally callous lunkheads who run the museum still have the Asma al-Assad page up on their website. What the hell?).
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| The Danubiana, lovers of both modern art and the wives of brutal, murderous dictators. |
After passing the Danubiana, the path looks like this (below) for miles and miles (and miles), and you practically have the road to yourself. The scenery becomes mind numbingly repetitive, and I kind of suspect it more or less stays that way until you get down to the picturesque area in the north of Hungary known as the Danube Bend, which begins after you pass the Hungarian border town Esztergom. But that is probably about 100 miles away.
Getting to Gabčíkovo would be nice, although someday I'd like to try to make it all the way down to Komárno, a town straddling the Danube (and the Slovak-Hungarian border) apparently named for its healthy mosquito population, but which is known for its massive historical military fortification. It's pretty far, though (maybe 60-ish miles from Bratislava) so I can picture myself having to take the train back.
Next up: riding the Danube bike trail into Austria!
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Miletička!
So, as promised in last month's Naschmarkt post, here is a post devoted to Miletička, Bratislava's (semi) outdoor produce market. It's a wonderfully funky place, with a lot of that endearing Bratislava/Eastern Bloc brand of grittiness (complete with a canopy that blends old sheets of corrugated steel and canvas tarps). Finding the produce may initially be tricky for some, as it's literally ringed by hordes of vendor stalls selling worthless garbage, funeral flowers, and cheap designer knock-off handbags and tacky clothing. When it's not the dead of winter, the place is a madhouse, particularly on Saturday mornings when it appears half the town is there getting its produce. We try to make it out there when we have time.
Obviously, Miletička is the place to get fresh locally grown produce. All of the basics are covered, depending on what's in season. Terezia's manager, a Slovak-Hungarian from Nitra, actually knows some of the vendors and even haggled with them in Hungarian when she went there with him to do some shopping for the ambassador.
Right now in September you can find mountains of sublimely tasty peaches and nectarines, heaps of nice looking grapes, fresh herbs, colorful assortments of melons and squash, piles of tomatoes, and more plums than anyone could possibly know what to do with (Slovaks love their slivovice).
You've also got people like this guy below, who sells sauerkraut in a variety of ways, including stuffed into bell peppers, as well as vendors selling products like paprika and honey.
Miletička can also boast of a good butcher shop, a bakery, as well as a stand that sells some nice looking poultry, including duck and goose. There are a slew of smallish Slovak pubs at one end, as well as a small Chinese joint with a menu that's quite heavy on the fried entrees (fried food figures prominently in the Slovak diet), as well as a langoš stand - langoš being fried dough slathered in garlic paste, cheese, and sour cream (see this post for more on langoš).
However, I do think it's too bad that Miletička is so far away from the historical center, because an increasing number of tourists really dig these kinds of markets, as they offer an authentic slice of local flavor and culture. Aside from Vienna's central Naschmarkt, Florence has both the Mercato Centrale and the non-touristy Mercato Saint Ambrogio in its historical center, to name just a few examples. Not that Miletička really needs more people cramming into its already crowded aisles on a busy Saturday morning, but it would really enhance the overall Bratislava experience from a tourist's perspective.
Getting to Miletička from the center of town requires hopping on the #9 tram and taking it out toward the Ruzinov district for about 10-12 minutes. It's far away from the charming historical center, in a grey and characterless corner of town that no tourist would ever have any reason to venture into.
How about opening up a second farmers' market in the Stara Trznica (old market)? It's a beautiful historical building by SNP square that housed exactly this kind of market during the first half of the 20th century, and which, frustratingly, sits empty and shuttered the vast majority of the time. The city apparently tried to host a market here several years ago, but I'm shocked and puzzled that they apparently weren't able to sustain it.
But at the time of writing this, there was one thing missing from Miletička's dizzying and colorful array of produce - figs!!! Despite the fact that fig season is in full swing this time of year (mid-September), I did not see one single fig. And I really scoured the place, even venturing all the way to the cramped corner at the rear that newbies probably don't realize exists.
And yet, right "next door", in Vienna, there is practically an explosion of figs at the Naschmarkt. What the hell?
As mentioned in my Naschmarkt post, figs are my favorite fruit, so I go totally cuckoo whenever fig season rolls around. Who would've thought that Jeff would move to a place where there are no figs?
There is a similar issue here with medjool dates which, when in season, I can find in abundance at Naschmarkt, but in Bratislava it's as if they don't even exist. Miletička also seems to lack the more interesting varieties of wild mushrooms (another passion of mine), like porcinis and chanterelles, both of which can be found easily at Naschmarkt, and the former of which I know grows in abundance in Slovakia because Terezia's parents go hunting for them every year.
But the fact that I have to hop over the border to Austria to find these things is truly vexing. Again, what the hell?
Why can't we seem to find figs in Slovakia? What do Slovaks have against figs? Is the Slovak palette simply not interested in them? Are figs too expensive? Are growers of dates and figs reluctant to penetrate the Slovak/Mileticka market? I can't imagine that geography or weather would make a difference, given that Bratislava and Vienna are so close and share the same climate. Fig trees, although right at home in Mediterranean climates, can and do flourish in regions with colder winters, so they could conceivably grow in parts of Slovakia. There's no real reason why they should be such an alien fruit here.
Terezia thinks that Slovaks just aren't into in figs. She recalls that you couldn't find them at all where she grew up (except occasionally only the boring dry pre-packaged ones), even after communism, and she has no recollection of anyone even talking about them. She never even had the chance to try them until she came to California.
Vienna is only an hour away, yet in some ways it feels like a world away in terms of the variety of produce and other foodstuffs that is available there. The iron curtain may be long gone, but there seems to be a culinary wall that's not been entirely knocked down yet.
But, at least Naschmarkt isn't too far away, and Miletička is still a great place for your more basic produce, so I shouldn't complain! I'm happy it exists, figs or no figs!
Obviously, Miletička is the place to get fresh locally grown produce. All of the basics are covered, depending on what's in season. Terezia's manager, a Slovak-Hungarian from Nitra, actually knows some of the vendors and even haggled with them in Hungarian when she went there with him to do some shopping for the ambassador.
Right now in September you can find mountains of sublimely tasty peaches and nectarines, heaps of nice looking grapes, fresh herbs, colorful assortments of melons and squash, piles of tomatoes, and more plums than anyone could possibly know what to do with (Slovaks love their slivovice).
You've also got people like this guy below, who sells sauerkraut in a variety of ways, including stuffed into bell peppers, as well as vendors selling products like paprika and honey.
Miletička can also boast of a good butcher shop, a bakery, as well as a stand that sells some nice looking poultry, including duck and goose. There are a slew of smallish Slovak pubs at one end, as well as a small Chinese joint with a menu that's quite heavy on the fried entrees (fried food figures prominently in the Slovak diet), as well as a langoš stand - langoš being fried dough slathered in garlic paste, cheese, and sour cream (see this post for more on langoš).
However, I do think it's too bad that Miletička is so far away from the historical center, because an increasing number of tourists really dig these kinds of markets, as they offer an authentic slice of local flavor and culture. Aside from Vienna's central Naschmarkt, Florence has both the Mercato Centrale and the non-touristy Mercato Saint Ambrogio in its historical center, to name just a few examples. Not that Miletička really needs more people cramming into its already crowded aisles on a busy Saturday morning, but it would really enhance the overall Bratislava experience from a tourist's perspective.
Getting to Miletička from the center of town requires hopping on the #9 tram and taking it out toward the Ruzinov district for about 10-12 minutes. It's far away from the charming historical center, in a grey and characterless corner of town that no tourist would ever have any reason to venture into.
How about opening up a second farmers' market in the Stara Trznica (old market)? It's a beautiful historical building by SNP square that housed exactly this kind of market during the first half of the 20th century, and which, frustratingly, sits empty and shuttered the vast majority of the time. The city apparently tried to host a market here several years ago, but I'm shocked and puzzled that they apparently weren't able to sustain it.
But at the time of writing this, there was one thing missing from Miletička's dizzying and colorful array of produce - figs!!! Despite the fact that fig season is in full swing this time of year (mid-September), I did not see one single fig. And I really scoured the place, even venturing all the way to the cramped corner at the rear that newbies probably don't realize exists.
And yet, right "next door", in Vienna, there is practically an explosion of figs at the Naschmarkt. What the hell?
As mentioned in my Naschmarkt post, figs are my favorite fruit, so I go totally cuckoo whenever fig season rolls around. Who would've thought that Jeff would move to a place where there are no figs?
There is a similar issue here with medjool dates which, when in season, I can find in abundance at Naschmarkt, but in Bratislava it's as if they don't even exist. Miletička also seems to lack the more interesting varieties of wild mushrooms (another passion of mine), like porcinis and chanterelles, both of which can be found easily at Naschmarkt, and the former of which I know grows in abundance in Slovakia because Terezia's parents go hunting for them every year.
But the fact that I have to hop over the border to Austria to find these things is truly vexing. Again, what the hell?
Why can't we seem to find figs in Slovakia? What do Slovaks have against figs? Is the Slovak palette simply not interested in them? Are figs too expensive? Are growers of dates and figs reluctant to penetrate the Slovak/Mileticka market? I can't imagine that geography or weather would make a difference, given that Bratislava and Vienna are so close and share the same climate. Fig trees, although right at home in Mediterranean climates, can and do flourish in regions with colder winters, so they could conceivably grow in parts of Slovakia. There's no real reason why they should be such an alien fruit here.
Terezia thinks that Slovaks just aren't into in figs. She recalls that you couldn't find them at all where she grew up (except occasionally only the boring dry pre-packaged ones), even after communism, and she has no recollection of anyone even talking about them. She never even had the chance to try them until she came to California.
Vienna is only an hour away, yet in some ways it feels like a world away in terms of the variety of produce and other foodstuffs that is available there. The iron curtain may be long gone, but there seems to be a culinary wall that's not been entirely knocked down yet.
But, at least Naschmarkt isn't too far away, and Miletička is still a great place for your more basic produce, so I shouldn't complain! I'm happy it exists, figs or no figs!
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Jeff's New Job
So, I've been tight-lipped about this, but to answer the lingering question my remaining 2.5 readers are all asking, yes, I have finally landed a job. At the end of July, I started working as an assistant editor for the Slovak Spectator, an English language newspaper (which publishes both in print and online) based in Bratislava. The Spectator provides news to expats, foreigners, as well as Slovak university students, an increasing number of whom are learning English. To say that I'm excited about this opportunity would be a gross understatement.
But wait, wasn't I supposed to teach?
Although I came to Slovakia fully equipped with a Cambridge CELTA to teach English, I have never been entirely thrilled about teaching, and felt somewhat ambivalent about my experiences teaching in the past. More importantly, there simply haven't been any English teaching job openings in Bratislava at schools that use CELTA methodology. All the schools that posted job listings, including one for which I interviewed, were - what are considered in the world of teaching English - "cowboy" schools, which are usually slightly sketchy operations set up by people trying to market their own extremely dubious and unproven teaching methods. The schools that do use CELTA methodology, like International House, simply had no job openings. At least in Bratislava, finding a good teaching position was proving to be impossible. (The Cambridge CELTA is one of the most reputable TEFL certifications out there. Schools that hire CELTA qualified teachers tend to be better quality, more legit institutions).
But this job with the Spectator feels like the perfect situation for me, and is preferable to teaching. It's both a pleasure and a fun and engaging challenge to edit the articles submitted by the paper's Slovak reporters. I'm also learning a lot about Slovakia, both politically and culturally, and the staff has been nothing but friendly, helpful, and accommodating. This is an incredible opportunity, and I hope it lasts!
Somewhat related to this is something else that I've been tight-lipped about: back in March I was asked by the Slovak Spectator to contribute several articles to their annual travel magazine, Spectacular Slovakia. The magazine is a really well put together publication that covers practically every corner of the country - a necessity given how most popular travel books only scratch Slovakia's surface. After reading some of my blog posts, the Spectator folks asked if I would be willing to write several pieces on Bratislava, to which I happily agreed. This was another amazing opportunity that allowed me to do something I love (and that I'm actually kind of good at). I believe the issue with my articles should be out by the end of the year. Here is the website, where you can check out articles from previous issues.
Things are going well with Terezia's chef gig for the US ambassador too, which is obviously a good thing. She's been there for just about three months now. She has also cooked a few times for the vice ambassador, and his family loved her cooking as well, which is clearly no surprise.
At any rate, it took a while, but things are finally appearing to come together for us here. After submitting countless resumes to mostly non-responsive employers, we were beginning to grow disillusioned, especially with unemployment here hovering at just under 14%. But now the pity party can end and we can get on with our lives, which of course makes both of us immensely happy.
But wait, wasn't I supposed to teach?
Although I came to Slovakia fully equipped with a Cambridge CELTA to teach English, I have never been entirely thrilled about teaching, and felt somewhat ambivalent about my experiences teaching in the past. More importantly, there simply haven't been any English teaching job openings in Bratislava at schools that use CELTA methodology. All the schools that posted job listings, including one for which I interviewed, were - what are considered in the world of teaching English - "cowboy" schools, which are usually slightly sketchy operations set up by people trying to market their own extremely dubious and unproven teaching methods. The schools that do use CELTA methodology, like International House, simply had no job openings. At least in Bratislava, finding a good teaching position was proving to be impossible. (The Cambridge CELTA is one of the most reputable TEFL certifications out there. Schools that hire CELTA qualified teachers tend to be better quality, more legit institutions).
But this job with the Spectator feels like the perfect situation for me, and is preferable to teaching. It's both a pleasure and a fun and engaging challenge to edit the articles submitted by the paper's Slovak reporters. I'm also learning a lot about Slovakia, both politically and culturally, and the staff has been nothing but friendly, helpful, and accommodating. This is an incredible opportunity, and I hope it lasts!
Somewhat related to this is something else that I've been tight-lipped about: back in March I was asked by the Slovak Spectator to contribute several articles to their annual travel magazine, Spectacular Slovakia. The magazine is a really well put together publication that covers practically every corner of the country - a necessity given how most popular travel books only scratch Slovakia's surface. After reading some of my blog posts, the Spectator folks asked if I would be willing to write several pieces on Bratislava, to which I happily agreed. This was another amazing opportunity that allowed me to do something I love (and that I'm actually kind of good at). I believe the issue with my articles should be out by the end of the year. Here is the website, where you can check out articles from previous issues.
Things are going well with Terezia's chef gig for the US ambassador too, which is obviously a good thing. She's been there for just about three months now. She has also cooked a few times for the vice ambassador, and his family loved her cooking as well, which is clearly no surprise.
At any rate, it took a while, but things are finally appearing to come together for us here. After submitting countless resumes to mostly non-responsive employers, we were beginning to grow disillusioned, especially with unemployment here hovering at just under 14%. But now the pity party can end and we can get on with our lives, which of course makes both of us immensely happy.
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