Mr. Andrew's Wild Ride

Moving on....again

2006-09-29T18:46:00.000+03:00

So I've been putting off writing this blog entry, waiting for something spectacular to happen. The thing about life though, is that even where there are big changes, it's not always spectacular, it just...is. I think as people, we have a way a viewing life, whether it be traumatic, joyous, or mundane, that is pallatable to our senses. Or maybe I'm just weird. I figured this would be my last post because I have moved on, and the original purpose of starting the blog is finished. Not that I am swearing off online journaling forever, however, for now while I get settled in my new life, this blog does not seem to be a neccesary vehicle any longer. This is a good thing. It means that I am together with family and friends that missed me and that I missed for nearly a year. And what about the friends I made abroad? We're still in contact...it's good. The nameless masses, well we were never really that close, were we? ;) Take Care just the same, though.

So I've been out of Estonia for about 5 weeks, and home from Europe about a month. In that time, I've reconnected with family, and sat around on a couch thinking about my next move.
And then it happened. Spectacular? No. Unexpected? No. Fun and wild? Definatley. Trudee came down and we roadtripped 32 hours (in three days) from Kansas City (me from St. Louis) to Seattle. I only put down one picture...it's hard to take good ones from inside a car.
And now I'm here...well close to here. I'm looking for a place to live (other than the Aunt and Uncle's...who are being generous for the time being), and waiting to start work. I'm also exploring my new environment, and trying to make new friends. So this is it. Cool, huh? Thanks for reading and being a part of MY life these last 10 months or so. It was great. Peace.

My Nemisis

2006-09-14T00:23:00.000+03:00

My nemisis is with me everyday now. I can't avoid him...he follows me everywhere. When I feel ill, it's because of him. My paranoia is his fault. Any obssessive issues I've developed can be attributed to his presence. Our mutal existence one sided pain...for me. I am helpless against him, my natural resistances ineffective. It's like he's gotten into my head. No wait, he has.

Attending to the issue of my own self-preservation, I have resorted to hiding out in secluded corners of the house. I hope he never finds me. I am armed only with tissues and the defensive appendages nature has afforded me. I feel they are insufficient.

Alas, even my own body has turned against me. With every surface I grace, with every breath I inhale, I seal my own fate. Destiny's desigin is torture. Despite the humbling of my existence, no refuge has been secured. My only solace remains the infrequent departures from my perilous prison. Unfortunatley, the Gods of Wealth and Fortune have not smiled upon me as of late, therfore, I am chained, housebound, in my misery.

Would you like to see him? Do you want to feast your eyes upon the tormentor of all my waking hours? Are you willing to see what fiendish foe the Fates have conspired to send me? Take care, and beware your eyes may decieve you. Keep in mind the immortal words of Dante, "Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter". In this case, "Enter" simply means scrolling down just a little further...

Behold the Villain!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Allergies Suck!....Say hello to Shacky, one of our cats.

Home Again

2006-09-03T22:29:00.000+03:00

So today I have been officially home in the United States of America for one whole week (wave flags and sparklers here). It was an exhausting flight full of Canadian Green Peace workers, immigrants from Africa, Billy Bobs, June Bobs, Sally May Bobs, and me: a tall, skinny white guy easily mistaken for a college student carrying 55 kilos (about 100lbs.) of luggage and a book with a weird language (Estonia) on the cover. Guess who got asked the most questions? My particularly favorite instance was the wonderful worker at Canadian customs who held up our already extraordinarily slow-moving line by flirting with short blonde in front of me (who was wearing a wedding ring)...I doubt it was his wife, who then (the worker) proceeded to grill me about my immigration papers.

Having worked up a healthy sweat-sheen from hauling my luggage across Toronto's Airport, and shaking from the physical strain, I handed him my now crumpled, blue immigration form and passport. Although I am an Amercan citizen, my passport shows hardly any signs of being in America. In fact, over the last 10 months, my passport had been stamped 40 times, over half of which were to Estonia (only 1 to America). Let me just say, he did not like the looks of me. My story seemed to go by ok until he looked up my flight number...which did not appear on his screen. It seemed that I was trying to fly on a plane that did not exist. Eventually we found out I was simply in the wrong terminal, but for awhile, we (the worker and I ) were pretty sure we would have to speak to someone higher on the chain of command. 3 hours on a plane, and an equal number of hours of delays later and I was home...finally.

So what's it been like?

The first thought through my head as I waited in the Cleveland aiport was, "I'm freezing here!" The United States is, for the most part, an overly-airconditioned land. It's bizzare to think that it was colder inside the airport than the country I had come from only a few hundred miles from the Arctic Cirlce. The second thought was that Americans are sloppy. This isn't entirely true...unless you're in an airport. Since when did our countrymen decide that it was acceptable to wear pajamas on a plane? About every other person was wearing sweats, adidas pants, or fleece something-or-other on their body, and those silly-looking plastic, neon comfort sandals. Does it make the flight that more comfortable? Really?

Since then, I've been slowly readjusting to life in the US. I drive my car everywhere...despite the price of gas. I don't even know where the bus stops in my town are! I have been to a fast food restraunt 4 times (this is exaggerated by my need to re-culturalize), and I have watched more TV in the last week than the last 2 months in Europe combined. I bought new clothes that I probably don't need, as well as electronics. Oh...and I've only gone outside (not counting time inside the car) for maybe a total of 2.5 hours. I'd feel remorseful or guilty, but I'm too drained by my own slovenliness to feel such strong emotions.

Behind the scense, however, and this is the plus side to the story, I've been making preparations for my move across the country. This will commence in about 3 weeks when I will pack my life together again (after a short assessment of my assets, I realized I own very little) and move to Seattle! I am looking for jobs, apartments, travel routes, and taking care of school needs, family visits, and other odds and ends. So..all is not lost. I am in pursuit of destiny, the "American Dream", and new life, a new home, or at the very least, a clean place to rest my rump while I catch up on the next season of my favorite shows :D It's good to be back!

Picture: http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/pic/CORPOD/JS1262564~Statue-of-Liberty-and-American-Flag-Posters.jpg

What's in a Word?

2006-08-23T15:32:00.000+03:00

I've been thinking alot about the English Language lately. Now we first must make a distinction between "British" English, and American English. I speak the latter. In Europe, you must be clear on this distinction. Everyone here is taught the British method in school, however they watch American TV and movies, thus usually preferring to speak like me. I am currently at The Vocal Jazz and Pop Days in Soesterberg, The Netherlands (pronounces "Suess-ster-bergch"), where American English is envogue. All day long, conductors (Dutch by birth) comment on how something is pronounced the American way, how we must sing more like Americans, and how in American English, the word is actually spoken thusly... Apparently, this is the international impression of our English:

1. No final consonants, unless they can be sounded upon (such as "n" or "m"). This means "d's"and "t's" are out.
2. Should one happen upon at "t" in the middle of the words, this is pronounced as a "d", like "bottle".
3. All vowels must be bright and light.
4. There must be and extraordinary amount of vocal inflection (non-monotone) in every phrase.
5. Each spoken vowel contains a multitude of pronouncable dipthongs (such as our word "how"-prounced "ha-oh-oow" ). You must slide around between these to a great degree.

Now, here is a list of common requests by American choral directors:
1. More final consonants, no one can understand what you are saying, "lie" or "light". Don't hang onto sounded consonants...no extra humming, please.
2. Make your articulations crisp, even in the midst of the words. We must have good diction.
3. All vowels should be pure and rounded, like......of course the British!
4. Try not to constantly change the timbre of your voice, a good, even sound is preferred.
5. Do not sing the dipthong, make each vowel sound seperatley, putting emphasis on the first vowel and less on the following.

What's really happening here is cross-Atlantic flattery. We want to sound like them, and they like us. How bizarre. It's in the same vein by which marketing companies fool consumers by saying how something has been popular in Europe for years as a selling point. In Europe, however, (and this is true because I heard it with my own ears) things have been popular in The U.S. for years. I suppose there is a kind sentiment in this, mutual admiration, or slight geographic envy (grass is greener sort of thing), but why?

Vocally, both sides of the Atlantic end up with a hybrid version of what English actually is, some sort of sloppy, fake middle ground. In other facets of life, we have a romanticized view of a place containing people, who are, in fact, just like us...minus the obvious cultural difference (of course).

So, during my last week in Europe, I am constantly contemplating what it is to sounds "like and American". I find myself secretly re-pronouncing everything just to listen to myself talk...I think I will develop a complex from this. It is an odd thing to be "the foreign guy", "the native speaker". I have an accent, an American one...weird. Do European girls think it's sexy?

Picture: http://www.sturgeonbayschools.org/ELL/English%20Language%20Learner%20Resources_files/image002.gif

Hints and Tips

2006-08-11T14:28:00.000+03:00

I will be leaving Estonia soon, one week to be exact. As is such, I thought that it would be smart to impart my wisdom on all of you who are now thinking of visiting this wonderful country someday, or perhaps evening moving here! The following are a few observations, bits of information, that you may do with as you choose. Enjoy.

1. Bring your own movie collection, or be without the exceptional joy of Movie Night. There are no "Blockbusters" here; no "Family Video". What Estonians have is "Videoplanet". Hardly more than a mom-and-pop shop, it carries about 200 titles (total), 75 of which you can watch in english, about 100 that are on DVD. You have 2 options when using "Videoplanet". One, pay 150 EEK to become a member, renewing your membership every year or half year for 100 EEK, plus the price of rental. Now mind you, that the average person carries between 75-200 EEK on them at anytime (6-18 dollars); most people usually prefer to pay by debit card. Two, offer up a 300 EEK or more deposit, plus price of rental each time you plan on visiting. They only accept cash. I've only seen one branch with an ATM nearby. Four hours later you "may" begin to watch a movie similar to the one you set out for. I believe "Videoplanet" is the reason internet-movie pirating is rampant throughout Estonia.2. There are no KINKOs in Estonia. We have Printcoopia(s), but they offer a very very tiny selection of jobs. Basically they will duplicate anything...sometimes on colored paper. Unfortunatley, unlike the rest of the country, the workers at Printcoopia(s) do not speak English. This makes words like "collate", "double-sided", and "spiral-bound" sound like gobbledy-gook. Your best bet is to bring a previously prepared example of EXACTLY what you want. Then, cross your fingers and simply smile and be happy with what you recieve. At least it's cheap. My best advice is to make a friends with someone who knows how to say what you want. Oh, and if you must do it alone, be prepared to make several return trips. This one is at least a 2 day ordeal.

3. Get an ISIC card. Despite what the lovely people at Student Travel Agency and Student Universe told me, they still use them here!!! Not only do Estonian turist spots accept these cards, but so do bookstores, some food places, some clothing chains, pharmacies, and transportation. It's good to study and be involved with academia in Estonia.4. Get used to public transportation. Despite the amount of traffic you will see about you at all times, you will not know ANYONE who has a car...maybe one if you're lucky. They have trams, buses, and trolleys here. They all cost the same (again good to be a student), however, they all ride along with the myriad of cars to their sometimes less than convinient destinations. Thus, traffic problems affect EVERYONE. It's best to walk here if you can...everyone else does.

5. City-wide construction is a free-for-all. This is most heavily done during the summer (when it is dry and warm), however random holes and scaffolding may pop up without warning throughout the year. If there are notices, us foreigners never know(see number 7). Be prepared to walk in the street, sometimes for at least a quarter of your journey. Luckily, the street is oftentimes in better shape than the side-walk anyway.

6. Back to movies. Cinema visits should be a well-coordinated affair. Discuss far in advance. Remember, you must all purchase your movie tickets together as seats are assigned, and not up for questioning or bargaining. If you think you may at all have to go to the bathroom, do it before the movie starts as you will be locked in for the duration of the film. Should you have to leave, you will then be locked out, but the "very nice" door gaurds (if you can find them) will let you back in. Oh, and I recently discovered why Estonians always show up late, or at best, as the movie is starting. Should you arrive early, you must sit through a seemlessly never-ending cycle of the same 4 previews that you must still watch again after the lights dim. These previews also plan throughout the cinema complex as you buy tickets and food. Definatley visit the candyshop.

7. All Estonians know what is going on before you do. I believe they have a collective consciousness that transmits news and gossip as it occurs. You will never have anything of surprise or shock to tell them, do not even try, they already know. They will assume you know too.

8. Be sure to study up on important moments in Estonian history like, "When did Estonia win Eurovision?", "When did Estonia host Eurovision?", "How many times has Estonia been mentioned on The Simpsons?", "What musicians or actors have Estonian roots (this can date back at least 4 generations)?", "When and who has won Olympic medals for Estonia?", "What were the big concerts held in Tallinn for the last 5 years?" , "What did Americans say in response to the question, "where is Estonia?", on some show that happened in the US?". This is a point of departure. The wealth of true-Estonian history is boundless.9. Bring pants and shoes you do not care about. This only applies to visits during early autumn, winter, and spring. For the other 2 weeks or so, disregard. Your shoes (and the part of the pants that come in contact) will inevitably get ruined as a result of the snow, rain, and muck that develops and lingers here. This is why the shoe industry is so booming in Estonia, and how they can charge such high prices (the highest in the EU). Nevertheless, the sheer volume of white pants and shoes (for both men and women) remains astonishing. They do not have Labor Day, so it's ok to wear white whenever you want.

10. Be prepared to either develope upper-body and core strength, or change your dietary plans as grocery shopping happens one of two ways here. As you will not have a car, nor will anyone you know (of course), you must bag and lug your own food. This keeps the hunter/gatherer instinct alive within you. Your first choice is to either discover exactly how much food you can fit on your person without looking too ridiculous walking back to your apartment (and repeat every 3-4 days), or visit the store everyday as hunger arises. Some places offer to deliver your purchases for you should you spend more than 1000 EEK, though you must plan on spending this amount in advance. The stares and odd-looks you will incure while trying to amass this large quantity of food is hardly worth the convinience of home-delivery.
11. Finally, come with a good sense of humor and adventure. This is a wonderful, charming, unique, and amazing place with clever, kind, and curious (though not always about what you'd think) people. Have a good time! I did :D

Belligerent Baltics

2006-08-05T12:54:00.000+03:00

I recently concluded my travels outside of Estonia. Last on my list of "to dos" was a visit to the other two Baltic States, Latvia, and Lithuania. This 72hr trip prooved to be one of the most "interesting" journeys thus far. I believe that because I am so intimate with Estonia, I was surprised to find Latvia and Lithuania so different. As I went to Latvia first, lets start with it:

1. Having traveled with ease throughout Europe and Russia, I was shocked by the border guard at Riga Airport. My agent obviously did not want me in the country. She was very concerned that I was traveling alone, wanting to know "who I was staying with?", "what I was doing in Latvia?", "where was I staying?", "where did I plan on going while in Latvia?", and of course, "when would I be leaving?"

2.Coins actually are worth something here. Unlike Estonia, you can buy things with them, not just create little coin forts and money towers. Unfortunatley, you cannot exchange coins for other currency. Therefore, I had an obssessive desire to spend all of my coins before leaving. This was made nearly impossible by retailers who insisted on giving me five 20-cent coins rather than 1 Lat, or five 10-cent coins rather than a 50-cent piece. I had a very manic 36 hrs there.

3. My hostel had a bug infestation. Though advertised as having air-conditioning, the oweners decided that 78 and humid was perfect weather to leave the windows open for the night. The other 11 bodies (3 of which snored, and 5 of which decided bed time was between 3am and 5am) made it the perfect evening. I decided to sleep shirtless, only to find 12 hrs into the following day that my body was covered in small red, itchy bites.

4. Riga is not designed for pedestrians. I spent at least a quarter of my time back-tracking to crosswalks, or journeying far beyond my destination only to back-track after the crosswalk was found. Apparently in Riga, cars have the right-of-way. The rest of us should simply "walk around". I have to admit, though, that a few times I just closed my eyes and ran for it. I don't really recommend this...

After 36hrs in Riga, I hopped a plan to Vilnius, capital of Lithuania, the southernmost Baltic State. Now the simple thing to remember here is that everything is exactly the opposite from Latvia. Coins mean absolutely nothing, and you can walk anywhere, the middle of the street is the most preferred spot for both turists and locals alike. Here are a few observations during my 36hrs in Lithuania.

1. The border guard is even less friendly than in Latvia. My agent wanted to know, beyond the same questions from the kind woman in Riga, if I had medical insurance. "Welcome to Lithuania...we don't want you to be a burden to our economy and medical facilities". After saying, "yes", he wanted to see proof. Luckily, I was carrying old cards of my American health insurance. This, of course, was useless outside of the US, but a piece of plastic that said "Health Insurance" seemed to placate the gentleman.

2. Lithuanians are not quite sold yet on this whole "flying" thing. I think their major reservation is that with planes, you have to aquire a recent model every once in awhile. This is unlike their bus system where you're likely to find yourself in a vehicle of the Flinstones variety. It's hard to get the pedaling down when you don't know numbers in Lithuanian ;)

3. Floorplans for hostel-design is of no importance. My 6 person room (with only 2 snorers this time...and still no A.C., though it was advertised) was situated just between the common area (popular with late night parties and drunkery), and the girls shower area. We consequently got a lot of "through traffic" during the evening. The boys shower area was conveniently located in the basement, and you weren't allowed to flush anything except liquids down the toilet. This made for a very comfortable stay in Vilnius.

4. Everything you want to see is uphill in this city. One would think that eventually you must travel back downhill, but no...you just keep climbing all of the time. Also, my guide to Vilnius was very kind in printing a public transportation map of the city. I never could figure out, however, where the buses and trolleys actually stopped...or if they ever did. They were probably too busy dodging pedestrians to consider stopping, or even slowing down.

5. You must visit Trakai if you go to Vilnius. It's only 30minutes outside the city by bus, and well worth it. Take a morning off from the city, and spend 3 or 4 hours on this beautiful peninsular town. The scenery is world-class, and the atmosphere is extremely peaceful. If you go in the morning, however, bring your own breakfast. The local donuts were less than tasty.

Thus concluded my tour of the Baltics. There were only 5 people on the return flight, yet somehow I ended up seated next to a fat-hairy man. I moved. Latvia and Lithuania strike again! I got the message, and went home. After staying awake through the entire evening before my 6.55am flight, I was very happy to fall into my bed. The previous 72 hrs. were "interesting" to say the least. Luckily, I escaped relitavley unscathed, and wiser about the world. What doesn't kill you only leaves tiny red welts all over your body that you can itch. Though this only causes skin irritation, it physically reminds you that you're still alive.

The Evils of Public Transportation

2006-07-22T23:27:00.000+03:00

Hey there! I've been traveling and exploring so much that I've taken a departure from my original intention for writing this blog...to discuss my thoughts and observations about life here in Estonia. So in deference to myself, I will attempt to write in "pre-eurocultured" Andrew style. If you've become entranced by my travel photos, click back to the orgins of my online universe, my cyber-genisis...i was even funny sometimes :D

So lets talk about public transportation, buses in particular. It is a rule in Estonia that it takes aproximately 2.5 hrs to get anywhere by bus. In the case of traveling from Tallinn (NW corner) to Varska (SE corner), it actually takes about 5hrs. This of course, is 2T, T being time, also equal to 2.5, our basis of comparison. So really, it all comes back to the same thing. Oddly enough, the Estonians aren't lying. It really does take about 2.5 hrs (or T) to get anywhere in this country by bus...well anywhere worth going, unless it's to visit your Estonian grandmother, which I don't have so I digress.

At one point I decided that this was a conspiracy of the buss drivers. Because I had traveled this great country by car (see my road trip back in April) a few times (I have friends with cars too!), I knew how long it had taken to get to certain cities. Then again, my driver had a lead foot, and busses can only travel so fast. Really, it's like trying to fathom obese-people-sex...the science just makes your head hurt.

So resigning myself to 2.5hr long trips, I aquiesed to riding the bus to and from my appointed destinations. I figured I was helping the environment, and being savvy with my money at the same time...hooray! It's kind of an inverse relationship. The less money you spend, the more time it takes to get where you want to go. That's why walking is free. And crawling to places like churches and mosques gets you blessed. It takes 12 hours to get to Moscow by train, and I really don't remember paying much of anything for that, but 12 is not an easy multiple of T, so we'll just forget about it. Hitch-Hiking is also free, and you get to travel by car, but you also run the risk of being killed by the crazzies. Therefore, hitch-hiking doesn't count. These are the fundamental truths by which our existence is organized.

But this is not entirely so! A ferry trip to Helsinki, a mere 60 kilometers costs much more than it would to drive the same distance by bus. And trust me, sitting on a ferry for 3 hours or more is just about as exciting as sitting on a buss for 2.5hrs, there are just more drunk Finns. Therefore, I do not take ferries, they cheat. I came to the conclusion that when crossing bodies of water, it was most cost effective to purchase a plane ticket way in advance, thus finding good prices and reducing travel time substantially.

Now, if you havn't looked at the past few blogs, I've been traveling a lot! This is not always over bodie of water either. I cheat too, but it's okay. So I've gotten used to air travel. It's about 2.5 hours to Prague, and about the same to Berlin. When you fly to Stockholm, you arrive before you left because of the time change! If you fly to Helsinki, you barely have time to get into the air before you're decending again. After this pampering, it has become very difficult to sit on the bus for T time. When you know that in T, or 1/2T you could be in a different country, it makes the journey down the same-old highway and barns seem rather banal and quite longer than it used to.

This malcontentedness has made me really miss my car back in the US. I try to tell myself that by not driving I am saving the ozone. By riding the buss I am slowing the onset of global warming. By not continuing to purchase gas at high prices, I am decreasing the demand for the fossil fuel, thus eventually driving prices lower (There won't be peace in the mid-east for awhile folks, start thinking about going hybrid or something!). But what I really want is to put my foot on an accelorator and get to my destination already! Many would say this is because I'm young and impacient. I would say it's because I'm American...and young and impacient.

I do not know if there is a solution to this dilemma. So far, all I have come up with is a general refusal to travel by bus again. I think this is best.

Photo: http://www.anotherurl.com/travel/east_europe/images/bh_bus.jpg

A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words

2006-07-18T12:51:00.000+03:00

Well, you all know this old saying, and for this blog I plan to enact it's awesome power and relevance. Last week I went to Stockholm for two days. It was fun, it was interesting. The weather was actually perfect (about 68-72F, 21-22C and sunny). Nothing out of the ordinary happened, and all of my travels and connections ran smoothly. So...here are some pictures. That's really all I have to say about the trip. I'll even give you a list of what you're looking at. Enjoy!
1(L). The Royal Palace
2(R). Palacial Estate in the Ridderholm area of Gamla Stan (Old Town Stockholm)
3(R). View of the high rent district in the newer city.
4(L). St. Jacob's Church
5(R). An old parish church reconstructed in Skansen Open-air Museum.
6(L). An old Farmstead reconstructed in Skansen Open-air Museum.
7(R). A view of Gamla Stan (The Old Town) from my boat tour.
8(L). A view of a wealthy residence from my boat tour.

From Peaches to Prague, and everything in between

2006-07-11T15:41:00.000+03:00

I was unaware that Laura Branigan was an International Superstar. This is probably because I was born a year after her biggest hit single, "Gloria". I know this work of art as the song that played in my Aunt Cindy's car. Little did I know that it's worldwide popularity has demanded the song's words be sung in what I've counted up to now, 3 languages (English, Estonian, and Czech). I thought I would put a link to her video on this posting, but then decided I did not want something so trashy attatched to my sparklingly stellar narrative. I heard this familiar little diddy upon entering a grocery story in Prague, my latest adventure. This brings me to:

Peaches: Realizing that I neither wanted to visit the ATM again, nor had the energy to find one, I came to the conclusion that it would behoof me to simply purchase my lunch for the next day at a grocery across the street from where I happened to be standing at the time. I figured if I could manage a grocery store in Estonia, the Czech Republic couldn't be too much of a challenge. How wrong I was... After scowering the aisles for about 30 minutes trying to figure out where I could buy something other than bread, I came upon the dairy and produce section. I grabbed a yogurt, and started to check the apples. Then I noticed the juicy peaches looking up at me. Finding two small, but perfectly ripe specimens, I bagged them and looked to see what everyone else was doing. In some Estonian markest you must weigh your own produce and put a priced sticker on them. I did not see a scale or a single person doing this. Next, I found some water, a snicker's bar, and grabbed a croissant from "bread-land" and proceded to the check-out where I stood in line longer than anyone around me (this theme carries into future stories). Finally reaching the register, the woman scanned my items. She said something to me in Czech to which I replied something like, "eehhoohuu". She then confiscated my peaches. It was obviously not the answer she was looking for. Trying to hide my despondency, I gave her money slowly, trying to gesture towards the peaches. I suppose, realizing that I was obviously a moron, she refused to make further eye contact, took my money and the next person in line moved up. I never saw my peaches again...

Prague: Oh yeah...I went to Prague this weekend. It was...nice. No, it was beautiful. Let me explain: Uttering the motto, "I can sleep when I'm dead", I chose to go out with friends to a club the night before flying to Prague at 8am (getting to the bus to the airport at 6.20am). Two hours of sleep later, I hopped the plane and flew to Central Europe. For the first 7 hours of Saturday, I dragged myself through sunny, humid Prague in a slight malais. It was sorely disappointing. Nothing spectacular stood out. I went to the Eastern-Side Old Town. It was cool, but I live in a city which has one of the most spectacularly beautiful Old Towns in all of Europe (or at least I think). At about the time I decided I did not like Prague and wasn't quite sure what I would do for 2 more days, I turned the corner and saw the river, as well as the first photo in this post. I was a changed man. Suddenly I got my second wind, and started taking pictures like it was my job...which it is when I travel. In total, I took between 400 and 500 pictures. Thankfully I scaled them down to 180 which you can see if you want, and you know my e-mail! The next two days flew by, and I ended up absolutley loving my time in "The Paris of the East". I'll let you know how it compares if and when I ever get to Paris.

Petr: In English, this name is spelled Peter. In Estonian, it is Peeter; Czech Petr. I know at least one in each of these languages. This year, I can't escape this name and the people attatched to it.This was my host in Prague's name. For those of you that know the stories behind this name, it's just not fair. For those of you that don't, please don't ask. It's not worth the emotional energy it takes to tell.

Plane/Post-traumatic Stress Syndrome: I love to travel. There are no words to describe my love for this pastime. It is my greatest hobby, one I will continue to pursue until I no longer have the ability or means to do so. I hate planes though. I have such a loathsome repore with planes that I can feel when something bad is about to happen to me, like getting bags searched in Amsterdam, nearly missing the plane to London, nearly getting kicked off my flight home for Christmas, and the ever present, inevitabley choosing the longest line to stand in. On my flight back from Prague, I fell into this last trap 3 times. The first was checking in at the airport. Every teller-person was moving faster than the one I'd chosen. The second was going through customs. Trying to learn from my first mistake, I chose the shortest line. There were 4 lines, and each one around me was moving in lightning speed compared to mine. They have lines for "All passports", and "EU Citizens". The EU one moves really really fast which is why I'll never understand why there are French and British people in my line complaining about how slow it is! Move over!

And then I boarded the plane. After finding my seat, I had a feeling like something was missing. A flight-attendant then came back and asked a man behind me if he would switch with a mother and her infant who had be put into the Emergency Exit line. Of course, I was missing the neverending screams of an infant. Granted, had I been this infant, I'd have screamed the whole time too. Just in the aisle next to my seat, her dad decides to stand her up (I don't think she was more than 3 or 4 months...definatley not standing), and of course she falls down. Now she is this tiny thing staring up at strange legs, faces, and crammed into a dark plane aisle. Her mom then puts the baby into the plane seat while she sets stuff above. The baby of course falls onto the floor again, I think hitting her head on the way. That kid will someday develope an phobia of flight.

The third line disaster came at customs in Estonia. This time I tried to just randomly select a line. Wrong again! I was the LAST person to go through, though I was one of the first off the plane. But as you can see by the last picture, it was all worth it!!!!

Laulupidu!

2006-07-03T13:44:00.000+03:00

Yesterday, I attended the 50th Anniversary of The Baltic Students Song and Dance Festival in Tartu, Estonia. It was the 15th Festival of its kind since 1956. Lets have a quick History lesson, shall we?

Tartu held the first Student Song Festival in 1956, also in Tartu. Of course Lithuania and Latvia were invited, but other countries such as Moldovia, Ukraine, Belarus, and Russia took part as well. Nowadays, the festival is for the three Baltic States of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. The festival is rotated between the three countries. Next time, Lithuania will host. The Song Festival Tradition is crucial to Baltic history and culture, especially that of Estonia. Song Festivals have been tradition here for over 100 yrs, the first song festival being held in 1869 in Tartu. Festivals were held every couple of years, both nationally as well as internationally. Festivals today are held for Mixed Choirs, Men's Choirs, Children's Choirs, Dance, Student Choirs, as well as other arrangments.

Song Festivals were not only of cultural importance, but political importance as well. During the Soviet period, photos of song festivals depicted large communist banners, pictures of Stalin, and other Soviet propoganda. This propoganda had the effect of displaying happiness and prosperity of people under the yolk of Soviet oppression. During this period, repetoire consisted mainly of music in Russian, either by Russian composers, or Estonian's writing in Russian. As the Cold War thawed, however, Estonian national tunes as well as Western "Masterpieces" slowly crept into the mix. The culmination of the political power of Song Festivals occured in 1988, when Estonia had what is reffered to as their "Singing Revolution". During this Festival, hundreds of thousands of people gathered in Tallinn's Song Festival Grounds to make political statements and sing National songs in defiance of their oppressors.

Today, Song Festivals are a celebration of culture, a show of solidarity among the Baltic States and the International community, and a reminder of a dark history with bright hope for the future. Thus ends our quick history lesson :D

So, yesterday, I rode the bus to Tartu so that I could attend this important cultural event. Traditionally, a Song Festival is kicked off by the lighting of the Song Festival Flame (kind of like the Olympics...except there are no medals, no competition, no worldwide broadcasting...you get the idea). After the torch is lit, a procession occurs from the lighting grounds to the Song Festival Arena. In Tallinn, this takes over 3 hrs, in Tartu, less than 1 (thank god!). First in the parade was Latvia. Latvians, stereotypically, as well as geographically fall between their northern "icy and reserved" Estonian neighbors, and their "hot headed and ebulliant" southern Lithuanian neigbors. The Latvian presentation was the most "progromatic" with voice overs, new age music, and dominated by folk tunes.

Next came the Lithuanians. Unlike the Estonians and Latvians, only the Lithuanian dancers wore traditional costumes. The rest donned brightly colored t-shirts and bandanas. Much of the time they seemed to just be running through the streets in a big herd...a lot of youthful, vibrant energy. It kind of felt like watching a highschool choir festival. Their music was largely pop, jazz, and disco influenced, however the dancers kept largely to tradition.

Finally came the Estonians. Their procession was by far the most orderly and organized. I think they had fun making nicely formed squares and parade-like choreography. Their presentation was the most "progressive", incorporating folk tunes, but also arrangements by newer Estonian composers. They even let some of the University students choreograph a dance or two (I wish they hadn't though).

One of the Festival Highlights was Estonia's release of balloons during one of their pieces. The effect was very lovely, and I thankfully moved quick enough to catch it!

I then caught the last bus back to Tallinn, making it a VERY long, but enjoyable day. Below are three videos of the festival. The first is the opening hymn for Gaudeamus (the name of the festival). The second is a short clip of the dancers. Here you can see the traditional costumes better. The third and final video, is of the last group song and dance. This year, over 6,000 people participated, and at least that many came to watch. These things are huge! If you want to know more, contact me, or better yet, come to Estonia and go to your own festival!

Me and you; and you and Me

2006-06-28T13:08:00.000+03:00

Dear Reader, every so often I take a short break from updating this blog. It's not because I don't love you...I do, truly. It's because so many people love me! When I have visitors, and I've been fortunate to have so many, they become my world during their visit. The nameless masses that have perused my blog, I hold you dear, and might even think about you from time to time. My visitors, however are exceptionally special in that they would travel so far to see me. It warms my heart and has made this wonderful experience in Estonia even better.
You never know what's going to happen when you come to Estonia. They weather could be hot, cold, rainy, muggy. There could be snow on the ground, or dust in the dry air. If you're lukcy, the weather will be nearly perfect. But fortunatley for me, this isn't why my visitors came to Estonia.
They made the trip to see me! I will forever have special memories with these folks that spent a few days, or weeks with me in Eastern Europe. And we have the pictures to prove it!
So thanks again you guys! And thank you to those who read the blog as well. I love getting responses, e-mails, and kind remarks from all of you. Two months to go!

The Parental Unit

2006-06-14T09:37:00.000+03:00

For the last two weeks, Mom and Dad have been visiting me in Estonia. I am truly fortunate and blessed to have friends and family who love me enough to come and visit me nearly halfway around the world. Thank you.

I know that my parents had a great time, as do all of my visitors, however, they were not instore for my personal brand of big-city turism...Andrew Schmidt-Superturist. It's really more of a guide to life really ;) Here are a few ground rules:

1. You must walk everywhere. Only use public transportation for day trips and when you're too exhausted to walk another step. In the case of roadtrips, you must have a Mabel.
2. You must walk enough to be so exhausted you cannot take another step. This usually entails at least a good 5-8 hours of walking a day. In the case of raodtrips, see previous blog about my roadtrip.
3. Do you stop to eat?....NO! Eating is secondary to the turist experience. It is an afterthough usually thought of as a nuisance. The best case scenario is that there is a quick easy place to pick up food you can take with you on your walk.
4. You must see everything...and take a picture of it. Does this mean you have to go inside everywhere?....NO! After your 100th palace/castle and church many of them start to look the same anyway. I should probably go inside more often.
5. Follow the suvenier rule: You can buy one big item (preferably something that can be folded or light), or three smaller items (in my case, 2 postcards and a keychain).

Here are some highlights from the 2 weeks my parents spent with me. We spent 2 days in Tallinn, 1 in Narva, 3 in St. Petersburg, and 5 driving around Estonia. The other days were really travel days.

Eurovision: Corruption at its finest, or....WTF, Finland!?

2006-05-25T14:35:00.000+03:00

I'm sick today. I have a runny and stuffy nose, sore throat, and a hollow, heaving sort of cough. This means that you get a new post...see there's the silver lining. A week ago today, Eurovision mania began its countdown to insanity. For months now, Europe has been gearing up to see which country will win the coveted Song of the Year. As an American, I could care less. In fact, I'd never even heard of Eurovision before moving to Estonia. This year I decided to see how excited I could get in supporting Estonia with my friends in this contest. This is how the procedure works:

Sometime in late fall or winter, there is a country competition. International judges choose what song will best represent each country in the years Eurovision contest. Think of it like the qualifing heats for the Olympics...except that every country will be represented (well...not really; keep reading). Next, there are concerts and publicity for months. Out of nowhere, you go to a party and everyone knows all the words to the songs and drama behind each of the performers. Ok, then a week ago there was the semifinal competition. Twenty-three countries compete and the top ten are picked to appear in the final. You may be thinking, "but there are more than 23 countries in Europe". Well...the 10 lucky winners of the semifinal join The Big 4 (France, UK, Spain, and Germany), and the 9 top countries from the previous year (these 13 did not even have to go to the semifinals). Voters from around Europe then call in or SMS to vote for their favorites. Whoever recieves the most votes wins. Lets examine things a little more closely though:

1. The Big 4? These countries are notorious for how bad their entries are, France in particular. This year Germany had a country music theme, the UK tried their hand at rap, and I don't even remember what Spain did. They are, however, the biggest financial contributors; and lets face it, if audiences from these 4 places did not watch, ratings would plummet.
2. Israel and Turkey? Israel is not in Europe, and though Turkey is trying, I don't think they really are yet either... Though as a show of support from the European community, Turkey made it all the way to the finals with their platinum blonde amazon front-woman. Addmittedly, the song gets catchier every time you hear it. I'd be interested to see how Israel would fare in a MiddleEastvision song contest.
3. Where's Italy? Italy does not compete in Eurovision due to scandals and grudges from the past.
4. Serbia and Montenegro did not send a singer this year because the country could not agree on whether to send an entry from Serbia or Montenegro (who desperatley wants autonomy).
5. Voting-cest? Countries assign points 1-7, 8, 10, and 12 to their favorite countries. Realistically, point 1-7 don't make much difference. 8 points always goes to a neighbor, 10 goes to either another neighbor or to the country that had previously subjugated and occupied the voting country (Russia got a lot of 10 point assignments). 12 points is a toss up. It can either go to a neighbor state, or to Finland.

So how did it all end? Finland won with an overwhelming 292 points, followed by Russia who also broke 200 (see, the Cold War wasn't such a bust). I think third or fourth place went to The Former Yugolsavian Republic of Macedonia, but what kind of a country name is that? FYRM? And how did Estonia do? We didn't even make it to the finals. In fact, Estonia finished 18th out of the 23 countries in the semifinals.

In light of this travesty, lets see what went wrong. Below is the winning Finnish entry followed by the Estonian entry. Watch them each a couple of times so you can really appreciate the differences.

Finland

Estonia

Ok Estonia, here are a few things to think about for next years entry:
1. Definatley not enough pyrotechnics. If you're not constantly endagering the lives of your performers, you're setting too few things on fire.
2. Platform shoes are the key to a memorable frontman. Sandra, you're thigh-high white boots just don't cut this rug.
3. This is a two parter: A. You must have instruments. Bands are hot; they can just stand there and get away with it. Sandra...you can't. B. These instruments must also double as weapons. Intimidating the audience is a sure-fire way to get votes. Voting is a small price to pay to keep my soul from being harvested by demons and monsters.
4. Spontaneous appendage growth. The guy from Lordi has creepy demon wings growing from his back during the "build-up" portion preceeding the final choruses section. It would have been nice to see Sandra grow an extra head, or possibly a tail out of her enormous belt (belt is on loan from the Inspector Gadget estate)...she only aquired back-up dancers.
5. The magic gender ratio is 4 men to 1 creepy woman. Estonia had 5 women to 1 creepy man. Estonia, you got it backwards! But I have to ask both countries, "Where did you find these creepy token guys?" Estonia also had way to many Blondes. Mix it up, try adding some baldies or a mowhawk next time.
6. Finland, and this is why they deserved to win, was unique. Everyone knew Finland's group and song. It was completely memorable and exciting. I actually really like the Estonian entry and I think it deserved to get to at least the finals. Alas, there's always next year. Hopefully these tips will help get Estonia some points next year.

Below are links to some of my other favorite entries:

1.Belgium

2.Denmark

3.Russia

4.Romania

5.Sweden

Setumaa!!

2006-05-22T14:08:00.000+03:00

I spent this past weekend (May 19-21) in Varska which is in S.E. Estonia, also known as Setumaa. This secondary name is applied, because the largest consentration of Estonian "Setu" people live there. The Setu culture actually spreads into Russia, and unfortunatley, due to border placement, the Setu region is split in half, thus alienating Estonian Setus from their cultural capital of Petchory. Varska has become a surrogate capital in these times. I was invited by my friend Helena, to accompany her, her boyfriend Olivar, and Olivar's sister Elika to their mother's house about 3km outside of Varska. It was truly a unique weekend. Below are some pictorial highlights as well as three really cool videos from the weekend.This is the house we slept in. The property consists of three buildings, forest and field. Olivar's mother slept in the main house (which is only one room), where we ate and socialized. During the course of our stay, I helped fell some trees, mow the lawn, ready a field for strawberry planting, and BBQ our dinner. We actually slept on the top floor of the house pictured above because the bottom floor is a sauna. I had my first "traditional" sauna experience. In Estonian culture, men and women usually suana seperatley, if they don't, some type of clothing is worn inside. Olivar and I shared the sauna this weekend. First, he heated the stones in an oven. We then poured water over them to create steam. The steam can get so hot that it scorches your skin. This process forces presperation and opens up the skins pores. We then "beat ourselves" with birch branches that Oliver made that day. This exfoliates the skin and increases blood circulation (this is not for whimps---a true test of manhood). Once we could not tolerate the heat any longer, we ran outside and jumped into the creek behind the house. The other side of the creek is Russia, so we actually illegaly crossed the border a few times :) Your body is so hot that steam actually comes off of it once you leave the cold creek. Just picture me an my skinny white rear running from the small door on the left side around the back and diving head first into water about 40F!!! We then returned to the sauna and repeated the process. After the first time, we shampoed and soaped, then rinsing with cooler water and drying off. Combined with a few beers, this is quite the experience! Afterwards I felt clean, sufficiently exfoliated, and VERY tired. I slept like an Estonian baby.
This picture is of one of the trees in our yard. The flowers and grounds were breathtaking.
The night of our BBQ, I at my first tree. Spring is the only time in Estonia where you can enjoy this delicacy. Olivar and his mom cut down a small Juniper tree and we cut the bark off. The underside is soft and wet, you can then slice pieces of pulp off and eat them. It tastes like Christmas. This is the only way to really describe it.
Olivar's mother also makes her own blankets, rugs, and towels on a traditional Setu loom. The previous summer, Helena, Elika helped set up this loom. It is one of the few left in S.E. Estonia of its kind. This, I believe, is a 4-layer loom. Olivar's grandmother is a giant in the Setu culture. One of a handful of women who can operate an 8-layer loom, and sing most every song still in the Setu cannon. It is unfortunate that when her time comes to pass on, much of this culture may be lost. Thankfully, research in Setu music and culture has increased in the last 50yrs, thus preserving and catalogueing texts, tunes, recipies, and other Setu artifacts. Regrettably, most of this research is only done by Estonians, and therefore hard for non-estonian speakers to access. This problem will last only a short time I am sure.This is the breast plate worn by Olivar's mother when she takes part in the Setu Choir performances (she wears normal clothes the rest of the day :) These breast plates are one of the most unique features of Setu Culture. The engravings and other specific features deliniate many things about the family, history, and culture of the individual that wears them. Trudee, an other American fulbrighter studies these as part of her research in Estonia (she knows much more than I do). Many times, older Setu women give their breast plates to younger unmarried women. In the videos, you will see other parts of the Setu Women's costume. Each piece has its own significance, from the head bands to the fringe around skirt accessories. Traditionally, unmarried women can show their hair, and then widowed women and married women cannot. Below are three short videos I took. The second one is sideways because i do not know how to operate my camera :P E-mail me or send me a message if you want to know more!

1. This is a typical song where the first singer introduces the verse, and the rest of the choir joins in for the refrain, a sort of call and response, though you may hear how some women will jump in sooner than others, thus it not being a true resposory. The harmony is largely modal, with three lines: main melody, a lower line, and a higher line (usually sung by just one woman).

2. This is an individual song, about a woman named Anna's trip to watch sheep in the field and how she became scared. The woman singing is Olivar's grandmother.

3. This is a song and dance comparing rich Setu (on the left side) to poor Setu (on the right side), and which it is better to be. The women (and the audience) have a lot of fun with this one.

Andrew's Angels

2006-05-16T10:33:00.000+03:00

Last week (May 10-14), I traveled with my choir, Tallinna Kammerkoor, to "Mother Russia". Pictured above is my consort of merry men. Left to Right: Me, Mart (Baritone), Georg (Baritone), Gunnar (Bass), and Maxim (our host). We are gleefully perched on one of the highest points in Moscow, overlooking the city below. In front of us is one of the largest, and most reputable suvenier stands in all of the city. Here you can by CCCP (USSR) t-shirts, miniatures of St. Basil's Cathedral, old soviet junk, and nesting dolls featuring Bill Clinton, George W., and Osama Bin Ladin. My favorite is Bill Clinton, where inside there's Hillary, Monica, Paula, Gennifer, and then a Saxophone. The five of us had a hearty laugh over that one.

In Russia, the tradition goes that if there is not food left over after a meal, not enough was prepared. Needless to say, I felt like popping after every meal. Natasha, Maxim's wife, is a wonderful cook. We had about five hours between each banquet, there being about 4 a day. After awhile, I decided that I would eat only what was put on my plate...which was a lot. I had to try everything. Everything apparently goes really well with Vodka, Scotch, or Red Wine...not water. I slept like someone hit me over the head with a 2x4.

Amidst gluttonous eating, and general debauchery of all kinds, my choir actually sang twice. We did an ok job, but my favorite times were at the banquets after each concert. After a few rounds of whatever alcoholic beverage was envogue at the time, we started swapping songs between the choirs. I kept up for a few rounds, but then each choir switched to national tunes and hymns (they were practically performing my research). This usually lasted until the wee hours of the morning at which point we would drive back to our hosts and Natasha would cook us another meal. Below is my other favorite time: singing inside the Kremlin.

Our last day was absolutley beautiful. Fortunatley for us, this was the day we did most of our sightseeing and walking around. Some highlights are at the end of this posting. Enjoy! Let me know what you think. I can't wait to go back! Just in case the video doesn't work, here is a link to it: Tallinna Kammerkoor

No,... that's not a dead camel

2006-05-08T14:43:00.000+03:00

The weather in Estonia is exceptionally nice at the moment. Because of this and rampant boredom, I decided to take a solitary excursion to the Tallinn Zoo (Loomaaed). I always take my camera to zoos, botanical gardens, and naturey things to satisfy my secret desire to work for National Geographic, perhaps capturing life at its most beautiful, raw, or (insert favorite adjective here) time. Just today I finally got around to looking through my pictures from this trip. Given my special affinity towards animals with humps (see previous blog Love at Last), I was shocked and deeply disturbed to find the above image among my files...is that one dead?! Continuing to scroll through my pictures, however, I discovered that I had apparently visited the zoo during nap-time, observe:

1. sleeping pig-thing

2. Sleeping Tiger

3. As I remember, went to sleep shortly after I took it's picture (polar bear)4. Sleeping Birds...doesn't look like they would be flying off anywhere anyhow.
These American eagles bring me to the next hallmark of my zoo adventure. Aside from the occasional species from the Caucuses (very interesting in a...here's another beast of burden sort of way), you can also see the rare and exotic animals from the Western Hemisphere. Now, don't get too excited. Many of you have probably never seen these outside of captivity and nature documentaries. Behold!:

1. The fox2. A WolfNevertheless, my zoo journey prooved to be a welcome break from my laregly glutonous and slovenly schedule. So to you Eesti Loomaaed, I say "Bravo!" Thanks for the three hours of sun saturated flora and fauna from the far reaches of the globe. Not only did you make me feel closer to home, but the nap I took on the bus home afterwards was especially refreshing and inspired.

2185 Kilometers later...

2006-04-30T10:34:00.000+03:00

Important Statistics from Andrew and Trudee's Whirlwind Adventure around Estonia:
Number of Picnic Lunches: 7 (we made PBJs each day. Combined with fruit, juice and party cookies, we had a perfect meal once a day)
Number of Nights in Hostels: 6
Number of Hostles I'd visit again: 2
Number of Miles Driven: 1356mi (about the same distance from St.Louis to Salt Lake City)
Size of Estonia: Roughly the size of Vermont and New Hampshire combined...and some islands.
Number of perfect glares from old ladies:1 (she had been cultivating it for at least 90 yrs.)
Pounds of fish offered by local merchants: approx. 50lbs of nearly dead herring (if only we'd had a cooler, or no olfactory senses)
Number of priceless looks from little girls: 1 (practically untouched by the rigors of life)
Number of times we got the car stuck in the sand: 1 (a local hero we named "Tiit" saved us...We love you Tiit wherever you are)
Number of times the battery died: 1 (helped out by local punks in Viljandi)
Number of times Trudee blew her nose after getting sick in Narva (Day 2): countless
Number of times Andrew got locked in the bathroom: 1 (I got out...apparently)
Number of parking tickets: 1 (See previous blog about Falck...I hate them)
Where we lost the keys: between the slide and the swing (the most logical place to loose keys, obviously)
Number of times we pushed the car off of a ferry after the steering locked: 1
Number of amazing sunsets: 3 (on Saaremaa, the ferry to Saaremaa, and Parnu)
Number of islands visited: 3 (5 ferry rides)
Number of odd looks, pointings, and giggles recieved: countless (this happens when you have a neon green bilboard on the top of your car advertising a flight to Berlin...in Latvian)
Number of graves driven over: 1 (before we learned how to reverse the car)
Number of kilometers driven by Andrew: aproximatley 30 (thanks Trudee...she taught me how to drive a manual transmition...i'm really bad)
Number of Estonian songs Trudee and Andrew learned from the radio: 3
Number of times we got lost: Was there a point where we actually ever really knew where we were going? (we spent a lot of time on what might be loosely considered as roads)

This is Mabel. She was the third member of our rag-tag band of Estonia-Travelers. She's a foreigner too...from Latvia. We acquired her presence through a rental agency that cuts the price of your car in half if you agree to drive with a bilboard on top. There are sooo many people in Estonia thinking about flying to Berlin now. There would have been even more had we not gotten lost or almost lost in the middle of nowhere so many times. Notice how sandy Mabel is in this picture. This was taken before she got splashed with mud and driven through pine forests. For some reason, Mabel has this dillusional idea that she is an SUV all-terrain vehicle. Who were we (Trudee and I) to deny her this fantasy? Because of Mabel's fire, Trudee's lead foot, and my superb (though at times questionable) navigating talents, the three of us had the best (and the worst---see some of the above statistics) road trip ever! You really can't call any of it bad because luckily, the three of us are so easy going (well...Mabel can be bit fickle and testy at times) and flexible...there was A LOT of laughing. At this point, I can honestly say that I have seen more of Estonia than most Estonians have. It is a beautiful country full of exciting castles, majestic churches and cathedrals, peaceful beaches, gorgeous manor houses, lonely lighthouses, amazing sunsets, and a host of quirky yet wonderful things and places only found in this tiny country. Below are some of the highlights from the trip. Here is a link to Trudee's blog, her commentary is wonderful: http://www.trudeehill.blogspot.com/
If you want to see more pictures or learn about these ones, drop me a comment, or send me an e-mail. Enjoy!

I had a bad weekend...

2006-04-20T12:51:00.000+03:00

Today I'm going to try and show you the other side of my adventure. Though Estonia is wonderful, and Spring (Kevad) has finally arrived, life, at times, can still be difficult. Last weekend (april 14-16) was bad. My shakras were out of sync, my karma had gone awry, my luck was shot.

One of the most challenging things about living in Estonia is that simple, everyday tasks suddenly become monumental affairs. As an example, I decided that I wanted to print out two of my new compositions for choir, photocopy them and then get them bound to look professional. In the US, I could print at home, and do the rest at Kinkos in about half an hour. Not so in Estonia. I do not have a printer here, only one person I know does. I thought I would go to the music academy. The national music academy of estonia could surely help me. After asking around for about an hour, I discovred that no one at the school had the software capability to even read my music files, and because I am not technically a student, I can't use their printers anyway. I ended up loading the program onto my friends computer and she printed out my material (1.5 days). Next, there is a print-copy place very close to my apartment. It's quite large and professional looking...kind of like a Kinkos. Alas, the woman helping me did not speak enough english, nor I enough estonian to explain to her what I wanted. She ended up getting frustrated with me. I even brought an example of exactly what I wanted done. When there is a language barrier, sometimes there is also disintrest. Two days latter, I tried my luck at another place. Luckily the woman spoke better english and was willing to help. I did not get exactly what I was looking for though. My pieces now look like a sciene-fair report, but at least they're printed and bound.

So my weekend:
Friday 10am: Arrive at the Music Academy to see that its closed (I've learned that for the academy, when there is a holiday close by, you never know what the school hours will be)
10:15am: Go to Kaubamajja (department store) in search of a cable to connect my computer to my television so that I can host a movie night...they suggest I try another place, but sell me a cable that "should work".
10:30am: Arrive at new store...closed. Their larger branch is open though>
10:45am: Go to coffee shop to waste a little time on computer. Internet doesn't work
11:30am: Get internet working and find location for larger branch store.
12:00pm: Lunch Date. They have a fish entree and thus their breath smells of fish for rest of encounter
2:30pm: Arrive at larger branch store with fish-breath date. We had to take a 20minute buss ride to get there.
3:15pm: 4 electronics stores and 3 cables latter, I depart for home to try my luck at connecting the computer to TV.
4:oopm: In frustration, call John to come over and help. We can't get it to work.
4:45pm: John and I decided to get food in Old Town. I will go back to Kaubamajja to try one more thing
5:15pm: Run into "the ex" on the street. Barely recieve recognition of my existence...feel like poo. Reach Kaubamajja, buy 4th cord.
6:00pm: Have tried everything possible and nothing works. Out a bunch of money. Cancell movie night. Go to Trudees to be consoled.

Saturday:
12:00pm: At insistence of friend, we go to a differnt mall in search of the correct cables for movie night. Nothing works.
1:30pm-2:30pm: Trying to make alternate plans for evening. Decided to host a small party before going out to go dancing
2:30-7:oopm: About 500 plans evolve and deteriorate. Decide that I'm just staying home alone.
7:15pm: Accidently shave off half of my left eyebrow, while cutting my own hair.8:00pm: Get invited to watch movies at a friends apartment. The return of movie night! His computer connects quite well and easily to his TV.

Sunday:
12:30pm: Decide to go with friends to Estonian Open Air Museum.
1:05pm: Missed the only bus to the museum. Next one comes in 2.5hrs.
1:40pm: Make my way by alternate trolley route to pick up friends and continue on our way.
2:oopm: At the stop for the museum, Falck (transportation and other minor security officials in Estonia) pulls up in a big red van, and about 6 officers storm our car. Before I have time to get my "safety-ticket" out and punch it, I get taken by one of the officers, a particularly scowling and brudish woman named "Svetlana".
2:00-2:10pm: I am questioned extensivaley by Falck in the back of their red van.
2:11pm: The van starts to drive away with me still inside. Am I going to jail! The van stops.
2:15pm: I am finally released with a 120kr fine (played the stupid foreigner bit very well) that I can pay online when I get home.
2:35pm: Open Air Museum. End of the story

Berginia!

2006-04-13T15:03:00.000+03:00

Umm...for those of you wondering...that means Berlin and Virginia! Last week I flew to Berlin for 3 days to meet Virginia, my oldest friend in the world (since age 7). She then flew back to Estonia with me for 4 days. We had a wonderful time catching up on life, creating new memories, and exploring Europe. Making new friends is a fascinating and intense experience, however, there is nothing like reconnecting with an old buddy to give you a sense of history, depth of life, and sense of love. Being able to sit next to someone on the tram and not feel like you have to say something at each moment is a really cool feeling.

So Berlin...Germany was cool, cause I'm half-German by heritage (well..Prussian, technically). I've never been somewhere I physically fit in so well. Sorry mom, it looks like Dad's super-Schmidt genes won out this round. Berlin and Potsdam are both very clean and beautiful. Nothing too weird happend on the trip so I'll just post some of my favorite pictures and perhaps I'll have a more entertaining narrative next time :) Happy Spring!

P.S. It's FINALLY getting warmer and sunnier here in Estonia. I did not wear gloves, and I even took off my second layer today!
The Reichstag: Berlin's House of Government. Unfortunatley our meeting with Angela Merkel was cancelled ;)

(Left)Berlin's memorial to the slaughtered Jews in WWII. (Right) Inside the Reichstage Dome. Can you find me taking this picture in the glass?

Schloss Scharlottenburg (Altes Schloss). This was a royal residence back in the day.

Neues Palais in Potsdam. Also was a royal residence.

Cecilienhof Palais in Potsdam.

(Left) Brewery in Potsdam. (Right) Sony Center in Berlin.

If anyone would like so see the rest of the pictures, e-mail me. Take Care!

The worst week to visit Estonia...ever

2006-04-03T20:18:00.000+03:00

That's Aaron. He's my bestfriend from Northwestern University, currently living and studying in London, UK. Like a true friend, he decided to visit me in Tallinn for part of his spring break. We also wanted to participate in Eesti Muusik Paevad (estonian music days), a festival for new Estonian music running March 24-31st. Unfortunatley, it happend to be the worst week of weather we've had in Estonian since I arrived. Technically, spring (kevad) is here. This means that it only snows once or twice a week, and rains the other five. The sky is perpetually gray, and so is everything else. A nice slush, mud, ice, and dirt goulash currently covers every outdoor surface. "Aaron, would you like to take a picture?". Despite the weather, we had a great time exploring Tallinn and catching up...and the music was ok too. For good reason, I do not have any more pictures to show. In fact, cameras were of so little use during his visit that Aaron ended up leaving his behind by accident. A warning to all of you wanting to someday visit Estonia...don't come at the end of winter/early spring...you'll be disappointed.

I think I actually miss the snow...at least it gave a nice white, soft glow to everything ;) You'd think that after almost 5 months of winter, spring would be welcome. Lets hope its short and summer begins halfway through April. This is wishful thinking. At least it's getting warmer...that's what I tell myself. I'll let you know when the green comes!

Halfway Home

2006-04-02T22:14:00.000+03:00

It has come to my attention that the average American toiletry is meant to last approximatley two and one-half months. You may be asking, "Andrew...why on earth do you know this?". And I would reply: As of two days ago, I have officially been living in Estonia for 5 months. Halfway done!! Before moving here, I packed two of every toiletry I normally use into my suitcase. You do the math. So now, you maybe be wondering what I am using to brush my teeth or clean my face. It's all Estonian. It took five months, but I am fully immersed into the cleansing rituals of an Estonian...well the cleansing rituals of an American living in Estonia, using products found here that remind him of the ones he brought...hmm. This, however, is not the only milestone of my halfway point. At this crossroads in my adventure, I can honestly say that I have been finally accepted, for the most part, into the culture and society here. I will elaborate shortly, but first I would like to set up a slight contrast.

I recently watched a documentary on television about the Kombai people living in Papau-New Guinea. It was an hour length program that followed the story of a British man (presumably an anthropologist and not just some crazy guy) attempting to infiltrate the Kombai society. To begin the journey, local guides from a "civilized" area on the island take our hero into the dense jungle to meet the Kombai. They are greeted by three armed and hostile men. The scene is extremely intense, but after some calm negotiating (through gestures of course, the British man cannot speak Kombai) and an offer of tobacco, he is no longer considered a threat. During this discussion, the Kombai men refuse to even look at our man except for the ones with the bows, they have a deadly glare. Eventually, one community (3 men, 5 women, and a slew of children) agree to let him stay with them at their tree-house home. He stays with them for two weeks. Everyday, he participates in food gathering and hunting as well as other daily rituals. For the most part, our hero is trying to be as "Kombai" as possible. After a week they allow him to sleep up in the house with them instead of on the ground below. Next, he starts hunting without shoes as the other men have always done. Apparently they considered him more of a child because his body is soft and he is clumsy and unskilled in the ways of Kombai men. At one point, the community plays a practical joke on their visitor by convincing him to put worms in his ears to clean out the wax. Taking it all in stride, the British man continues to impress his hosts. These scored points earn him some communal smoking time, hand shakes, shared laughter and some dancing. The culmination of his cultural indoctrination and acceptance came in the last few days of his stay. The Kombai adorned our hero's head with a band, hung a necklace about his chest, and peirced his nose (a spike through the center). Real Kombai men undergo a ritual in which they invert their penis (part of it goes back inside the body), and wrap the remainder in a makeshift loin-cloth. Our brave man attempted this, but after almost passing out, decided to make do with just the loin-cloth. Nevertheless, upon the British man's departure the Kombai community threw him a large feast, centered around the killing of one of their prized domestic pigs (this is a great honor). He had been formaly accepted into the society and culture of his hosts. Many tears were shed upon our man's departure...but I digress.

No wait!...! It only took him two weeks! It's taken me five...and almost everyone here speaks English! I've even gone to sauna (see previous blog about Estonian Saunas). Well...I am not going to complain. Good things come to those who wait, and my five months have paid off. The presumedly "cold and reserved" Estonians have finally begun to open up (well at least most of them). I now have many conversations with my Estonian friends that go beyond "What are you doing here?", "Aren't you cold?", "How long will you be staying?", or "Why did you come to Estonia?". Our repore has progressed beyond naming our differences to discovering our similarities. I am also slowly but surely learning the language, which scores me some points with the natives.

Today I returned to Tallinn from a trip with my choir to Viljandi (S. Estonia). We competed in the National Chamber Choir Competition (and took first place in our division!). On this 2.5 day long excursion, I became much closer with people in the choir...even talking with some whom I hadn't yet spoken too (imagine being in a choir where some people don't even speak to you). A few even caught me by surprise empathizing that it must get overwhelming at times to be constantly surround by a language and culture you hardly know. At the dance the second night, I impressed some of the singers by jokingly sharing some stereotypical line-dancing steps I'd picked up in high school. This led to a "forced" public demonstration the following morning... infront of the entire choir. It was a little like, "watch the monkey dance...dance monkey dance". I suppose this is better than having worms in your ears :) After a somewhat humiliating display, amongst giggles and laughter, I took a grand bow upon which I recieved much applause and cheering. Like our British friend, I too had finally been accepted.

I cannot say that it's been easy. At times I want to throw in the towel. This experience is one of the most diffucult/challenging things I've ever endured (don't ask me to explain it in words), and at the same time one of the most rewarding. An uphill struggle everyday, I feel like at this half-way point I've been handed a walking stick to help me keep my balance. If at times this does not seem to be enough, I will try to remember that its too cold here to wear a loin-cloth, so at least I won't be asked to undergo the respective rituals... Here's to five more wonder-filled months!

Pics: http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.papua-adventures.com/images/
korowai-3.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.papua-adventures.com/
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Love at Last!!

2006-03-17T13:31:00.000+02:00

Between blizzards, deathly icicles, potential broken hips, and frostbite, Estonia in March has become an inhospitable environment. After brief consideration, my friend Trudee and I decided to flee the frozen tundra for friendlier lands. This meant traveling as far south as possible on a limited budget. Thanks to cheap internet-based services, cunning, patience, and a 5 hour game of "travel agents" played by Trudee and I, we booked an amazing trip to the Canary Islands. For those of you who don't know where these Islands are, take out your map and locate Africa. Then move to the west coast and find Morocco. To the west of Morocco are the small Canary Islands. Our island was Lanzarote. The actual trip was 2 nights in Madrid, and 5 in Costa Teguise, Lanzarote. It doesn't get much cooler than that.

We returned two days ago to Estonia where there is still ice and snow on the ground as well as fear of ice shards from above, but we are re-charged and willing to take the risk. In addition, March is over half-way through, and April has got to be better! Please!!!!

So to provide a contrast, the weather on Lanzarote averaged about 72 degrees while we were there, no precipitation of any kind, and sunny. We also happend to arrive the weekend of Costa Teguise's Carnival celebration = parade, parties, dancing...fun. We ate like pigs, lounged by the pool under the sun, and danced the night away...basically paradise...and I'm tan.

For a little geological background, the Canary Islands are a chain of volcanic islands, much like Hawaii. A local company offers tours of the island and the Timanfaya national park, Spains second most visited park. It takes you through lava fields, craters, geothermic areas, and best of all, a camel ride!

Brave adventurers that we are, Trudee and I could not pass up an opportunity to ride these beasts of burden. We named our camel "Mittens", and our neighbors behind us were riding "Bitsy". The camels form a chain of about 8 or 10 animals, 2 riders per camel. Each camel is chained to the rear of the one in front of it. About 1/3 of the way into our ride, I started to feel something against my back. Turning around, I realized that Bitsy had begun to burrow her nose into my back. We began going uphill, so Bitsy had to back off a bit, however, unlike the other camels, she started to breathe very heavily. I could feel her camel breath on my neck, and her inhilations practically pulled my skin back. If it weren't for the muzzle on her mouth, I'm sure I would have recieved a few camel kisses!

After mastering the hill, Bitsy returned to my backside, and we finished the ride in this tender embrace. When we returned to the bus, our guide informed us that Camels are very sensitive to smell, so if people had put on too much perfume or aftershave, it attracted the camels. I was wearing a tanktop, it was hot, and I was sweating off my deodorant. I think that Bitsy and I had something special though. I felt it, and I'm pretty sure she did too. I think she was sad to see me go. Camels have very good memories, so perhaps if I return to Lanzarote we will visit one another. I will never forget Bitsy and our little affair at the "Plains of Tranquility".

As I mentioned before, I am now back in Estonia. I cannot show off my tan to anyone as we still have to bundle up considerably to go outside, but in the privacy of my apartment, I can look upon my brownish skin and think fondly of my tropical tryst.

By the way, if anyone wants to see pictures of my vacation or any other photos of Estonia and Europe, shoot me an e-mail! Take Care and remember you never know where you're going to find love.

Death from Above

2006-03-04T17:28:00.000+02:00

In my last blog I mentioned that I've fallen because of slippery sidewalks three times now on my adventure in Eastern Europe. I previously thought that this was the most perilous part of living in a country where snow-maintenence is fairly non-existant...oh how wrong I was. Up until now, I have been looking down and watching my feet as I try to climb my way over the drifts of snow, skate down small hills sheeted with ice, and basically make it from point A to point B without fracturing my tailbone. I figured, it's good to be cautious, "watch you're where your walking". About four days ago, we had a 2 day long blizzard that dropped about a foot and a half of snow on Tallinn. Since then it has been warming up a bit, and the snow is melting, making the ice underneath quite slippery.

I recently learned, however, that the cause of most winter calamities is falling icicles from the rooftops above. Apparently some people have died due to being impaled by giant shards of ice as they plummet to the earth. As the temperature increases, the fear of being skewered by an icicle rises proportionatly. The kind Estonian people have taken to roping off particularly dangerous areas, or just placing blockades to prevent people from walking under these frozen nasties. Unfortunatley, this forces us all to walk in the middle of the road where we now must dodge traffic as it too slips and slides on the thawing snow and ice. Basically, going outside is like playing Russian Roulette.

Now, I must watch my feet for ice and drifts, the sky for falling knives of ice, and both ways at all time for cars. I'm starting to feel a little paranoid, and my neck is beginning to hurt. I might buy cleats...or maybe a helmet.

*Pics: http://www.physics.utoronto.ca/~smorris/edl/icicleripples/icicle_out2.jpg,

Gulliver's Travels

2006-02-23T22:50:00.000+02:00

This past tuesday evening (Feb. 21st), I returned from a three day trip to Finland. The best way to get to Finland from Tallin is by ferry. It only takes up to 3 hours and is really cheap. In the winter you sail through ice too! Basically the entire Gulf of Finland freezes over a little. I was sure that the water would freeze around us or we would hit an iceberg, but this did not happen and we safely arrived in Helsinki, where I discovered that I was perhaps one of maybe 100 tourists actually visiting Finland this time of year.

At first I intended to spend the entire time in Helsinki, however after completing my thourough tour of the city in 1 day only, I decided to take a trip on my final day to Turku. (For those of you that know me well and my "super tourist" abilities, seeing all of the sites of a european capital in one day is not an impossible thing for me to accomplish. Besides, it was a monday and all of the museums were closed). Turku is the Midieval capital of Finland, so there's a lot of history, a castle, and a 14th centruy cathedral....pretty cool stuff. Now the amazing thing about southern Finland is that it is an archapelago...lots of islands. In the winter, the shallow water between them freezes, and you can walk from island to island...like jesus, except the water is solid, and no one is fishing. I walked on a lake too.

Cool natural phenomena aside, Helsinki would have been nicer in warm weather I think because you can appreciate all of the islands and beauty mother-earth provides...and so on. In the winter, everything is white...including some of the buildings (very hard to take photographs of these). In Turku, however, I fell in love. Its a very quaint college-town with a river running through the center. On the eastern end is the grand catherdal and the western end Turku Castle. Commercial centers, parks, museums, an academy and boat-restraunts fill the center. There's also a train station...that's how I got there. In addition, they also had two H&M's, my favorite clothing store. Having not seen one in almost 8 months, I decided to go on a little shopping spree ;) One other place I decided to visit was Kasityolaismuseo (its missing some dots), the open-air museum. Here's the description in my guidebook: features traditional crafts people at work. I thought, "oh cool...maybe i will see some wood-working, glass-blowing, or weaving and perhaps buy a hand-made craft". Shortly, I will explain how wrong I was.

To give you an idea of the significance of the following events, I had exactly six hours to spend in Turku. I completed Helsinki in 8-9hrs, so I figured I could handle it. I started looking for the handicrafts museum about two hours into my day, and almost three hours later finished, leaving me about an hour to do a little less than half of the other things I planned. My map was wrong. It placed the museum on the correct street, but the wrong building. After finding the small, poorly marked street, I saw a building with the sign "museum" on it and an arrow. I decided to go inside this building....there were people living there. I got barked at by a dog, and stared at oddly by a woman baking in her kitchen. I wanted to see artisans at work, not walk through peoples houses.

So after exploring the entire street, I finally found a small sign pointing up a hill to the museum. Nary a single person was crafting there. It was the type of open-air museum where you view how life WAS when people made their own things....basically walking through peoples houses. There were no wood-workers, glass-blowers, or weavers to be found, just tiny little finnish women. I paid one for my ticket, still hoping that I would find someone widdling a piece of soap or something. Well...a tour had just started, but unfortunatley it was being given in Finnish. At this point, I realized that not only was I one of the few tourists in Finland, but probably the only native-english speaking one. So I decided to get a map of the grounds and explore on my own. This was not to be.

How the museum works, is there are courtyards. You enter the yard and go into a house, if its door is open, or there is a key in the closed door (not a lock...i was confused about this for awhile). You open the door, and look inside to see little furnishing and pottery wheels as they would have been back in the day. Every once in awhile, you opened a door and found a tiny, old Finnish woman...who is quite possibly the only person who would actually fit into these small homes and workshops. I have never hit my head on so many door frames. Well, after exiting the first courtyard, I was stopped by one of these Finnish Lilliputians who somehow new I was an English speaker. (Seriously, they are smaller than grandma ;) She took a liking to me for some reason. Perhaps it was because to her I seemed so freakisly tall. Maybe she thought I was cute, but I think it was probably because I was the only one not on the tour. She took me back into the same court yard and explained (in very very broken english) how the open doors and key/lock system worked.

It was very nice of her to be my personal tour guide, however, the woman meant business. She would not let me rush through anything. After showing me a courtyard, she would leave me to explore. If i returned to her too soon, she would make me go back and do it all over again until she was satisfied I that I looked at everything properly. Mom, you would be happy to know that I did not rush through a single part of it...I wasn't allowed. In fact, at one point I wanted to leave one of the tiny houses, and she grabbed my arm to show me a small 3-D painting on the wall. The picture changed depending on how you looked at it, and she took me to all 3 spots to view it. In retrospect, I appreciate her enthusiasm, but at the time I felt a little ridiculous. Well...even though it was not a very large museum, I spent quite a lot of time there seeing and learning how crafts WERE made. I didn't buy anything. At the end of my stay, I heartily thanked my pint-sized guide and returned to the world of normal-sized objects. About half an hour later, I slipped and fell on some ice and bruised my right rear-cheek... A statistical update:

Number of countries I've visited so far: 2
Number of times I've wiped out on the ice: 3
Number of countries where I've wiped out on the ice: 2
Number of people who have witnessed my wiping out on the ice: 2 (this is the luckiest part of all) I have been fortunate enough to only fall with close friends or alone :)

So now I am back in Estonia. Luckily, the ice is beginning to melt, and the people are proportionate to everyday surroundings. It's nice to be back.

Eesti Clap

2006-02-13T20:40:00.001+02:00

Now kids...today in health class we're going to discuss a very sensitive subject....okay I'll stop the gross play on words there. I am much more interested in the cultural phenomenon that is how Estonians shower affection on musical performers. Over the last three and a half months, I have attended quite a number of concerts, and never cease to be amazed at the level of gratuity shown by Estonian concert-goers. Three specific instances stick out in my mind, and I would like to share them with you all:

1. My friend John and I went to see the Moscow State Chamber Choir concert about three and a half weeks ago. Honestly, I was a little nervous about how an all-Russian concert would go over in a post-Soviet nation where memories are long and wounds run deep, especially when a very tall and sparkly Russian woman began talking to the audience in the way I always imagined Stalin or Lenin addressed the masses in Red Square. Behind her was quite possibly the most intimidating and serious-looking choir I had ever seen. You wouldn't want to meet these singers in a dark alley, not too mention that each woman's hair-cut was more severe and rigid than the next. Hurricane Katrina wouldn't have tossed a single strand out of place. The concert was breath-taking. At times, I noticed my mouth was dry because it had been hanging open in amazement at the excellence of each song. I nearly wept at one point, nevering even having a clue as to what they were saying/singing. There were no programs, but from what I could gather, the evening was made up of traditional Russian folk-tunes/hymn, national songs, as well as Classical Russian literature. After each number it was as though the audience applause couldn't possibly get any louder, yet it would. At the end of the concert, the hall suddenly began to shake. I realized that it was because the Estonians were now stomping their feet to accompany the roar of the applause. This lead to two curtain calls for the choir. As is customary, someone in the performance recieves flowers at the end of the concert: the conductor, pianist, everyone in a small ensemble. If the composer of a piece is present, they will receive a flower. Flower giving is a serious thing here. It only got more absurd from here. After the choir's second departure, the "slow clap" began, and everyone joined. Soon, the entire audience was clapping in unison, demanding an encore...and they were obliged. Apparently there weren't that many hard feelings towards the Russians, at least not that night.

2. Three days ago, I went to see Chanticleer, an all-male choral ensemble from San Fransisco. They were amazing, nearly flawless. Aside from their impeccable execution, it was really nice to hear peices I recognized, standard American repretoire, as well as many international pieces. After my concert with the Moscow State Chamber Choir, I was pretty sure I had seen the pinnacle of Estonian esteem. This evening, however, the audience did not even let Chanticleer leave for intermission without a second curtain call. I'm not even sure if you can encore the first half of a concert. I think that's actually just called...the second half. Well...this only minorly assuaged the Estonian enthusiasm. After the first piece of the second half, the concert-quakes began. With over 1/3 of the concert to go, the foot stomping had already begun. I was in for a long concert. In good, American fashion, Chanticleer ended the concert with an up-beat spiritual. It's like they were asking for an encore. Well, they got it...two of 'em. Before their first encore, they all recieved their customary flower, which they accepted very grasciously. They thanked the audiece for their wonderful time in Estonia and acknowledged them as one of the best audiences in the world. For their second encore they actually sang an Estonian piece. This sealed their fate. The audience was up on it's feet. Not that their Estonian was particularly good; I could hardly tell that they were even singing in Estonian, but I don't think many foreign choirs dare to attempt this. Well after some whooting and hollering, Chanticleer left the stage again, returned for a third curtain call, and I believe a fourth. Always leave them wanting more I guess is the plan as they declined a third encore, and thus the concert ended. Like the Cold War, Olympic Hockey, and landing a man on the moon, it looks like the Americans beat the Russians yet again ;)

3. Two nights ago, I went to a small vocal concert held in the Town Hall. The audience numbered about 35. The pianist accompanying the singer was fantastic, and the singer was good, but she had some flaws. This did not stop the small, but mighty audience. I guess one moral of the story is you can't beat the home team on their own field. Aside from two curtain calls before intermission, she recieved two more at the end, and ran out of encores to sing. What was most amazing however, was the sheer volume of foliage she and the pianist accumulated. I think my two friends and I were the only ones not to have brought something. Apparently we didn't get the memo. When thirty-five people bring you flowers, that's alot of plant. After singing and playing their hearts out, they amassed quite a garden. I honestly can't imagine concerts getting more ridiculous than these three, however I've been amazed each time at the level of gratitude shown by music-lovers here. I'm very excited to see what happens next!

*Pics: http://www.tituslabs.com/OAL%20Applause.jpg

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!!

2006-01-22T16:34:00.000+02:00

For those of you not following international news, I'll update you. In Moscow, over 50 people have died due to freezing weather. Most of these people live in areas that had power failures or heating-loss. In other areas, utility providers can't produce enough heat to adequetly alleviate this problem. Guess who lives about 8 hours from Moscow?........me, your's truly. Though we've been more fortunate than Moscow, and we have the balmy Gulf of Finland to help regulate temperatures, it's been absolutley freezing here for about a week. The coldest reading I saw was -17C feeling like -27C....that's about -17F. Even the Estonians won't go outside.

To those of you who have never experienced this meteorilogical phenomen, here's a short anecdote: I was walking from my apartment to the Music Academy. At my usual pace this is about a five minute walk, in the cold, I can cut it down to about 3:45. At about the halfway point, I started to feel something rigid inside my nose when I inhaled, like somebody had put a small stint up there. After careful self-evaluation, I discovered that it was my snot freezing as I inhaled the frigid air. When someone asks me how cold it gets here, my new answer will be, "cold enough that your snot freezes after about a minute and a half". The only plus side to this strange-new experience is that unlike normal cold temperatures, you're not constantly afflicted with the sniffles. I imagine that prolonged deep freezes really hurt kleenex sales.

The downside to this nostral novelty is that approximatley three minutes after one gets inside (the ratio is about two times as long as the freezing takes; y =2x), a spring thaw begins. You have to be adequatley prepared for this moment, because you will never cease to be amazed at the quantity of fluid now leaking from your face. The nose recieves attention first, of course, however then your shortly begin to realize that your cheeks are wet from the ice-crystals melting around your eyes and the corners of your mouth. My friends who wear glasses have learned to cope with temporary blindness for about 10minutes while their lenses de-frost, de-fog, and dry (drying them yourself will not work).

To cope with this climactic travesty, I bought my first scarf. It's very long and made of wool, and I wrap it around my face a few times. Fortunatley there are no Middle-Easterners here, so I do not have to worry about offending anyone. This method helps keep me warm, however I must remember not stay outside too long (10min or more), or the moisture from my breath on the inside of the scarf will begin to freeze and then I have to question the usefulness of my purchase.

To my extreme joy, it started snowing today. I never thought I'd be so happy to see snow accumulating on the ground. This means that it can only be "so-cold" outside....at least much warmer than it's been. It's not a blizzard, it's not freezing rain or hail, it's perfect: white, larger, puffy flakes falling almost straight down (and a little to the right). So not to worry, I'm safe and warm now. The forecast calls for a stabalization of temperature for a few weeks between 10-20F. Yay! A little over a month to go, and then the real spring thaw should begin. I can't wait. I hope you all are also safe and warm. Take Care.

Which One of These is Not Like the Other Ones!

2006-01-17T11:44:00.000+02:00

Todays article will feature the trip I took with my choir to a retreat at an old Estonian manor house in the country . Or as I like to call it, "You can't take this foreigner anywhere". Last weekend, my choir had its annual trip to Kohila, a small Estonian village about one hour outside of Tallinn. On this retreat, the focus is singing, polishing repretoire, and bonding as a choir. So, being the adventurous and good-natured person that I am, I agreed to go along. It was only for one night, and besides, the entire weekend only cost me about 9 dollars. This payed for three meals, and lodgings for the evening. I opted to pay to use a sleeping bag (we will discuss the problems associated with this decision later). My other choices were a matress, but I had to provide the sheets, or a bed with all linens provided. One night on the floor is manageable. I squared away the payments with the choir secretary before we left.

Because I have learned from past experiences that the choir members will tell me nothing unless I ask, I sent an e-mail to one of the members inquiring to know if we were taking a bus, where we should meet, and what time we were leaving (very trivial things that perhaps I should have already known). She said we were going by car...uh oh. I suddenly felt about twelve years old and about to be picked for dodgeball. You hope and pray that you aren't last, and stuck in the car with people who won't talk to you, or worse, don't know any english!

Saturday morning arrived, and armed with my pillow and backpack, I bravely marched to the departure point. Luckily, we were sent off in a predetermined fashion and I was fortunate to ride with two people I had talked to previously. Upon arrival, we unloaded the cars and went inside the old, but rennovated manor house (which now serves as a music school part of the year).....(I wondered why there were pianos everywhere). As we reached the top of the stairs, a curious thing began to happen. Everyone started taking a pair of shoes out of their bag. Immediatley I remember something a friend told me when I visited her apartment, "if this were a real Estonian home I would have slippers for you to wear while you stayed". Rookie-Foreigner mistake number 1: Remeber to bring a pair of slippers/flip-flops to old rennovated manor houses. Swallowing my embarrassment, I embraced the akwardness of the moment and donned my other pair of socks so that my feet wouldn't get cold...so much for clean ones the next day.

The next 4-5 hours were consumed with practice. We took a break for lunch and exploration of the town/house and then reconveened for 4-5 more hours of practice. Then, about 7pm, one of the workers from the manor entered our practice hall and opened a big door at the far end. Periodically people would go over and retreive sheets and bedding from the woman. I assumed that there was some order to this. First people who ordered matresses would get their things. Those who needed bed linens next, and us recieving sleeping bags at the end. Slowly, I watched people gather their things, one at a time of course, so as not to disturb the rehearsal. Finally, the worker reappeared, locked the door and began to leave. I got up and raced her down to get my sleeping bag, however she didn't speak any English, and apparently the words for "to sleep" and "bag" don't get the right meaning across. Nearby, however, one of the choir members saw our struggle and came to help me.

I explained that I was trying to ask about getting a sleeping bag, when he turned to me and said, "you mean you didn't bring yours?" Rookie-Foreigner Mistake No 2: Paying 30 kroons for the sleeping bag option apparently means that you are paying to sleep at the manor house, but that you will provide your own bag. Well...I think the worker had taken a liking to me during our disfunctional conversation and lead me back to the now locked room at the far end of the hall, opposite the rehearsing choir so that I could get a matress and a blanket. When she reached for a pillow, I semi-akwardly said (in estonia), "I have this". She appreciated me trying her language, smiled and ushered me out of the room.

Not long after this debauchle, rehearsal ended for the evening. Feeling slightly overwhelmed by my social mistakes, my removal from my comfort zone in Tallinn, surrounded by people who I don't really know too well, and exhausted from singing for 10 hours, I shut down. I pulled out my i-pod and for an hour and a half sat on some chairs and just listened to my music. Another person was also listening to her headphones and reading, so I did not look too out of place or anti-social.

At this point, another member asked the two of us (me and the girl with the headphones) if we wanted to come downstairs for the party and sauna later. My spirits had risen considerably, and I was getting bored so I said, "Okay" to the party, but "we'll see" to the sauna (see last entry for description of estonian sauna). I wasn't quite sure that I could take a physical beating in addition to the mental and emotional one I had received that day. Nor did I care to see some of the choir members naked...fortunatley only 3 or 4 people ended up going to sauna. The rest of us just socialized in an old cellar.

Granted, 80 percent of everything spoken was in Estonian, I did my fair share of social contributing to the party. When one lady got up the nerve to ask me the questions everyone was dying to know, the room quited down and all eyes went towards me. "What are you doing here?" "Why/how did you join this choir?" "Where are you from?" "Can you really sing those low notes?" I've been asked these questions about a million times up to this point (except for the one about the notes) so I had no problem answering. I even added a little humor which made the situation lighter. After this, the younger members sitting near me would periodically ask me a question and we would engage in short conversations in english. It was actually quite nice and I had a fairly decent time.

My crowning moments of the evening occured in quick succesion. About two hours into the party, two choir members came to join us and began the tradition of playing party games. Of course this wasn't explained to me, but neither did I expect it to be. After the third person spoke, I finally caught on to the game. It's the one where you say your name, something about yourself and then the person after you has to remember both as well as anything anyone has said before you. I was second to last in the line to go!

Needless to say, by the time the game had come to my turn, everyone became very quite again because they were very curious to see if I could remember anything or had understood what was happening. To the amazment and praise of all, I remembered everyone's name as well as a few details about 1/3 of the poeple. Everyone was very happy and now realized that I actually could understand what was going on most of the time, here and at rehearsal! The next game, I have to admit I couldn't quite figure out.

I understood that people were taking turns, and the last person to speak called on the next person. Someone eventually said, "ok Andrew's turn". I unashemedly professed that all I could gather was that it was important that I said something funny. This was thankfully the right thing to say, however, the point of the game is to say something in more detail about what you said in the first game about your self and the group had to determine if it was the truth or a lie. In the first game, I said (in Estonian) "My name is Andrew Schmidt, and I don't speak Estonian, but I know names". So, in away, my statement sort of fit. But, to play the game, I told a story about the orgin of my name and how it was the third choice of my parents after discovering the first two burdened me with horrible monograms. The story went over well, and we all returned to the party.

After a partially restful sleep on a nearly paper thin matress, the choir awoke, had breakfast, practiced for another 5 hours, and returned to Tallinn. I don't think I have ever walked up four flights of stairs faster than when I finally reached my apartment building. Home sweet home at last. I then realized, that indeed, or at least for now, Tallinn is my home, and I am very happy to be here. I don't think I'll be leaving it too soon.

Aren't You Cold?

2006-01-09T13:33:00.000+02:00

The answer is "No. I am fine, thanks". The question is probably the single most frequently heard phrase I hear. When I meet a new Estonian, which is usually every time I go somewhere, I am asked the same two questions: "What are you doing here?", and "Aren't You Cold". You might think that they are perhaps being funny because I am American and not used to the "frozen tundra" that is Estonia....at least this is what we're led to believe. This, however, is not so. I am asked this because I wear a small, blue, gortex jacket (it's now lined with a green hoodie). To the untrained eye, or those unfamiliar with such synthetic fibers as gortex, I suppose it looks like I am wearing nothing more than a windbreaker. Gortex, however, is a very well insulating and warm fabric designed to be worn in extremely cold places...i.e Estonia.

Nevertheless, should I meet someone on the street, or thereafter while dressing to go outside, I am inevitably querried on the matter of my coat. After I explain that I am not cold and infact quite comfortable, the following response is of three varieties: 1. I must be lying, but who would lie about coats....2. Something to the effect of "Ok..." (as in...well you've been properly warned, it's your own fault if you die of frostbite)...3. You must be insane.

Needless to say, many of my Estonian friends think I'm somewhat soft in the head. I have a few that continue to pursue the issue by asking me what I am going to do when it is -20C outside (I think this is about -2F). At an attempt to appease the masses, I have lined my coat with a green "hoodie"...this has failed. Estonians refuse to believe that my outerwear is sufficient for this climate. Honestly, I am beginning to question the validity of their concern. It is now well into January and still around 25F. February is rumored to be the coldest month, however average temperatures according to online sources say it will be between 20-30F....closer to 30. Between my other American friends and I, this ubiquitous question has become somewhat of a joke.

The crowning moment of this charade so far occured at a gathering I went to at a small cellar-pub in the Old Town. One of my American friends had just had an opening at an art gallery. She designs and creates amazing jewlery. A few evenings later, five of us gathered to celbrate her success again as well as bid farewell to another friend moving to Berlin. Now, you have to understand that upon entering any establishment where you might spend some time sitting around, one must relinquish their coat at the door. You then recieve a stub to claim it upon your departure (I will write a future blog about the tribulations of this endeavor). This being said, at the coat check of this pub I was refused service. I had removed my coat and hoodie and was holding it out to the coat-checker and he told me not to give it to him. Apparently my outwear is not even suitable enough to be recognized as sufficient for coat checking. Like a scarf, shawl, wrap, or sweater, I was forced to hold onto my jacket all night. At least I didn't have to fight to get it back at the end of the evening (again see future blog when we discuss the coatcheck).

Currently, I refuse to give into peer pressure and abide by social conventions concerning winter attire. I plan to defy the supposedly horrible Estonian winter and continue donning my coat and hoodie. Perhaps I'll even start a new fashion trend...perhaps not. Undoubtably, I will continue to remain "that wierd American boy who says he isn't cold".

Could I BE any Cheaper?

2006-01-07T12:30:00.000+02:00

I have now entered month three of my stay in Etonia, time for a general life update:

Physical: I am skinnier (if you can believe...small European portions), my asthma is gone, and I have a new trendy-euro haircut. I also have some back pain...

Emotional: I am happy, healthy, a little bored at times, and constantly searching for love...ha ha.

Behavioral: I now sleep late, go to bed late, and work sporadically. I am socially fullfillied, and even going on a few dates! I am even more frugal with my spending...

To give you some economic background, Estonia has the fastest growing economy of all the Baltic States. Nevertheless, when I want to convert dollars to money I use a factor of 13 (13 est.Kroons to 1 U.S.D). This is not the multiplication table that I'm most familiar with, but I have become pretty good at estimating the exchange. The long and short of it is that stuff is pretty cheap in Estonia. Groceries for 5 days (i can't physically carry more than this from the store to my apartment) is about 200kr (16-17 dollars), a loaf of break costs about 6kr (less than .5 dollars), drinks at a bar are about 30kr a drink (about 2.50dollars), a decent lunch out is about 45kr (4-5 dollars), you can go see a concert or movie for about 100kr (about 8 dollars), and for 200kr I can talk/message on my cellphone for over a month--- to anyone. Stuff like clothing and shoes are actually comprable to US prices, but I am not buying a new wardrobe.

I am, however, a savy consumer and find ways to get discounts whenever possible. I get student discounts everywhere I can, and I bought a members card to the grocery to get a 5iscount there. Now, I am used to even lower prices. I have recently realized that I get slightly annoyed if I pay more than 35kr for lunch, 75kr for a concert, or basically ever spend more than 100kr at a time. Like living in the capital city of any state/country, this becomes increasingly difficult. My biggest worry is that my penny pinching will follow me back home to the U.S.

Perhaps all of you in the US should alert the consumer industry that I will be returning and expecting some changes in pricing. No longer will going to the movies (a particularly favorite pastime of mine) be a 15-20 dollar affair (tickets and popcorn/drink). I should not have to pay a small fortune for groceries (any item priced over 2-3 dollars should be reviewed), and when I go out with my friends/family to a restraunt the sum of our outing should be no more than 45 dollars. I also expect all local and international calling to be more affordable as well...but then again if we all just get skype, we can talk for free to anyone in the world...

I am sure that I am in for a rude awakening when I once again reside in my own country....old allergens, new job and social prospects, schedules to keep, and goods priced to please the producer, not the consumer. Fortunatley, I have almost 8 full months to continue enjoying my stay. And for my sake, when I return, it might be okay to lie to me a little about how much I'll be spending...

*Pics: http://www.greatestcities.com/4246pic/343/CP9343.jpg/Money_of_Estonia.jpg

Tis The Season...

2005-12-30T19:38:00.000+02:00

I apoligize for not updating my blog for a few weeks. I got wrapped up in celebration the Holidays. I'd like to thank my family for five wonderful days at home. I love you all. And grandma, thanks for the silk underwear, they fit just fine. In seven days, I traveled for about 50 hours over 10,000 miles. To see a description of what this is like, check out another American-living in Estonia's blog at www.lettersfromestonia.blogspot.com (article "Champions of the Flight"). It is truly funny, yet accurate. I arrived back in Tallinn on Dec. 28th whereupon I walked out of the plane (Tallinn is one of those board the plane from the runway type places) into -11C/13F wintery wonderland, complete with a frigid windchill and falling snow....Welcome Back! Needless to say, I will be wearing my gift a lot.

Because I had been out of town, my refrigerator was empty ( I also needed liquid fabric softener), so I decided a trip to the grocery store was in order. Subsequently, I learned that you can have a cultural adventure just about anywhere, even a western safe-haven like the grocery store (see "To Queue or Not to Queue"). We folk living in Estonia don't have dryers, so we all use liquid fabric softener that goes in the wash. It's not as good as a Bounce sheet, but hey...they used to be communist. Despite their unfortunate past, Estonians now have more brands and types of liquid fabric softener to choose from than you shake a stick at (stick shaking will be discussed later). I use a brand called Lenore...it has English words on the bottle (maybe it is sponsored by Poe's lost love...forevermore). Lenore comes in your typical fragrances like Fresh, Rain, Lilac, and Moonflower. For folks into risk taking, multiculturalism, or without olfactory senses, they also have Amazon, and Flamenco. I never thought laundry could get so cosmopolitan.

Though smelling like a sweaty Spaniard is tempting, I have to say I was most intrigued by Amazon. Besides, I left my flared red shirt and tassled hat back in the U.S. Anyhow, you can't scratch-and-sniff the bottle, and the picture on the front portrays a mountain, a bird, and some foliage, so I'm wondering which part of the amazon are your clothes supposed to smell like? Is it the balminess of a Warrior Princess? The fear of being chased by an Anaconda? Perhaps the pheremones of a blodsucking bat or giant insect? Maybe it's what your clothes would smell like after washing them in the Amazon river...mmhmm. This leads me ask, "What do the Estonians know about the Amazon that I don't?" I decided to pursue a safer course and purchase Honey and Vanilla. Perhaps I will make a New Year's Resolution to be more globally minded when purchasing my household items.

Speaking of New Years, it's very close. I have had a few party invitations. One of them includes traveling to a small town outside of the capital for revelry, merrymaking, and sauna. But this is not the Sauna you're used to...it's Estonian. The traditional sauna involves sitting naked in a small wooden room heated by wood or stones. You pour water over the wood/stones to create moist steam. This can be done single-gender or coed. To get an even more authentic experience, one takes a birch rod and then beats the skin, increasing bloodflow, persperation, and exfoliation. For better results, give the rod to your friend. After about 10 minutes you run and jump into a frigid pool of water...rinse and repeat. For a more scientific/historical description type Estonian Sauna into Google :)

Let me just summarize by adding, nothing says "Happy New Year" like sitting naked in a very hot closet while having strangers swat you with a stick followed by a self-induced coronary...I wish you all a Happy Holiday! May your New Year's Eve bring you as much magic and mystery as I am sure mine will.

*Pics: http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.rukansalonki.fi/images/sauna.jpg
&imgrefurl=http://www.rukansalonki.fi/sauna.htm&h=168&w=250&sz=
23&tbnid=6Gq7bQ90o8j8uM:&tbnh=71&tbnw=106&hl=en&start=4&prev=
/images%3Fq%3Dfinland%2Bsauna%26svnum%3D10%26hl%3Den%26hs%3DfA0
%26lr%3D%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-US:official_s%26sa%3DG, http://www.southtravels.com/europe/estonia/radissonsastallinn/gifs/sauna.jpg

Do they really speak better English than I do?

2005-12-14T14:15:00.000+02:00

Hello reader. Today we'll be discussing language yet again, however, it will not be as difficult as Estonian or Chinese (see previous blog about Chinese). Today we'll stick to English, and it's many speakers. English is quickly becoming the most widely spoken language in the world---yay Westernization! Unlike most American's, Europeans begin their foreign language studies while very young. Therefore, they are competent in at least three or four different languages by the time they choose to go abroad, again unlike most American's who cannot understand the family of Mexican immigrants living next door. Apparently, like learning other academic subjects, acquiring a second language is done better by those outside of the U.S. In the same way that the Japanese (as well as many other countries) have surpassed Americans in math and science, students in other countries are now learning English more effectivaley. As was written in my guide book about the desk-clerks at one Estonian hotel, "they will speak better English than you do".........They will what! How did this happen?! At what point did we become second-rate speakers of our own native tongue?

I suppose to solve this potential travesty, we must examine certain aspects of the situation. First, where are they learning English? Most logically, they are learning it in school. We'll examine this later. Estonians also have access to American popular culture; television, movies, music...etc. Television language is very colloquial (except for Dawson's Creek, which I don't think they have), and I know that I speak better English than Britney, Justin, and Lil Bow Wow. Well, sometimes movies can be rather high-brow, but I cannot imagine them learning better English from Harry Potter or the Chronicles of Narnia....or are they?! Let's return to the teachers:

Supposing that there are very few native English speakers teaching in the Estonian school system, we must assume that accredited Estonian -English teachers are leading the classroom. They were probably taught by their teachers, and so on...So how did English come to Estonia? Who were the first English-speakers Estonians had contact with?.........The British! Geographically, they are the first point of contact. In fact, there is a memorial at the Estonian Maritime Museum to British naval officers who died while fighting alongside Estonians.

So Estonians have learned English from the British. Then one can defer by means of this theorem, a=b, and b=c, therefore a=c, that Estonian desk-clerks speak better English than I do because they learned it from the British. So we must infer that British-English is beleived to be superior to our American-English!...If you are a little outraged or concerned, post a response to my blog!

What is going on here?! Who decided this?! Where do I sent my letter of contempt?! Is this a conspiracy?!.........yes! Perhaps this is all a ploy by the British to reclaim America as part of the British-Commonwealth. They are still sore from when we finally kicked them back across the pond in 1783 (see Treaty of Paris, 1783). Lets examine how this might unfold.

Currently our Education system is under the yoke of Bush's No Child Left Behind Act. In this mandate, emphasis is placed on raising math and science scores in our public schools. Time and funding are taken away from other subjects like the arts, physical education, and social sciences so that we can better compete with the Japenese (as well as many other countries). Teachers are finding and importing new ways of teaching math and science in fear of loosing government funding or worse, their jobs. Imagine what will happen when the story breaks that we are behind in our English skills!

Soon, there will be government legislation (again infringing on State's rights to regulate and oversee their own educational policies) forcing schools to put added emphasis on learning the English language. Eventually, teachers will uncover the truth that it is a widespread belief that the British speak better than we speak, and they will begin instructing their classes in British-English. Then, all American students will start speaking with a British-accent.

After this, it is only a matter of time until every American will speak this way, thus wiping out all American dialects. We will no longer stand in "lines", but "queues" (see post about "lines" and "queues"). Girls will no longer be "totally hot", but " bloody fit", and we'll all watch the "Tele" with our "mates" after arriving home from a jaunty ride on the "tube". Once we have begun to speak British, we will start thinking this way as well. Someone will realize just how much we now have in common with our fore-fathers, and mother country. England will extend their tea and crumpet-filled hands of friendship, thus sealing our return to the commonwealth fold...

I implore that you all write your congressmen immediatley. Alert the media of this conspiracy, and for heaven's sake we must stop importing so many British movies and film stars! We are in a national state of emergency. I however, am grounded here in Estonian, therefore it is up to YOU to be like our Paul Revere and get notice to all that indeed it is both "two if by land", and "three if by sea"! I will stay here and continue to speak my American-English, knowing that all around me their lies a deep, dark secret of intrigue and deception.--Cheers!

*Pics: http://members.tripod.com/bobgreiner/1d12c330.jpg

Jessica Fletcher: "Murder She Wrote" or is there MORE to this story?

2005-12-09T11:54:00.000+02:00

So I am living in Tallinn, Estonia. I am here conducting research = the someone is paying me to hang out in Europe. I take two classes of which I am neither paying nor do the grades count. I sing in a choir twice a week, see friends, and sleep. I have no job. Oh, and I have a blog = I have plenty of free time. Currently it is December, the temperature outside is below freezing, and there is about 6 hours of light per day (see blog about daylight). Therefore I do what any patriotic, red-blooded American would do: I sit around the house in my most comfortable clothes and watch T.V.

Did I mention that I am living in Estonia. This means that the majority of programming consists of things I do not understand and old shows from the 80's. Occasionally there are more recent programs like "Dr. Phil" and "Queer Eye", as well as every american soap opera. Despite the shortage of "quality television", like any American, I have no problem wasting my time infront of the tube. Most recently, I can be found engrossed in one of Jessica Fletcher's crafty life-mysteries on one of our old favorites: "Murder She Wrote".

This show is broadcast every weekday at 3:30pm on one of the Estonian stations. I can even choose to enhance my language skills by reading the well-translated subtitles. Most importantly, the show stars one of Britain's greatest exports to America, Angela Lansbury. She is probably best known for her role as Mrs. Potts from Beauty in the Beast. If you are like me, which I'm sure you are, a great, big smile erupts on your face everytime you hear (or even think about) her sing "Beauty and the Beast"-- You know the part where the camera sweeps down from the chandelier onto Belle and the Beast dancing amidst a golden ballroom and an enchanting evening sky.

Naturally, finding her on my t.v. screen in Estonia seemed pleasing at first. Every episode, Jessica Fletcher (Lansbury's character) finds herself in a "Clue-like" situation full of murder, intrigue, and conspiracy. Within an hour's time, she helps solve the case and dispense justice to the evil-doers. After watching a few episodes, however, I have developed a few questions and concerns about the suspiciously questionable content of this series and of it's leading lady.

Let's examine the facts:
1. Jessica is the author of murder mysteries, a novelist from Maine.
2. When not working, she travels to visit friends around the country, all of whom find themselves in their own murder mystery.
3. She is always the first person to the scene of the crime.
4. Jessica is a widow, yet we do not know how her husband died.
5. She always seems to know what happened, who did it, why, and how.
6. She is extremely curious and oftentimes finds herself in dangerous situations, yet never comes under any harm.
7. She has no faith in our law enforcement personal as she inevitably decides they need her help solving the case.
8. She has no regard for the law. In the last episode I watched, she convinced the police sheriff to hold off on prossecuting a confessed murderer because the paperwork was too cumbersome. The murderer was an elderly friend who might have died before the trial began, and only Jessica had heard his confession. She told the sheriff that, "she would hardly remember any details of the confession by the time she was on the witness stand". I think this is called obstructing justice and withholding information, as well as harbouring murderers.
9. She has in at least two cases lied about being engaged in order to set-up someone else involved in the mystery.
10. She is never formally suspected of any of the crimes she "uncovers", yet she has an extensive file at the FBI. Is she working for them?!
11. She is friends with people involved with the mob, mafia, and people with childern or family members capable of commiting murder.
12. Someone is always being poisoned.

Eventhough my faith in Lansbury is shaken, I am more distraught by the judgement of our law enforcement agencies. They all know that she is an "amateur crime-solver". Noboy become an "amateur crime solver" without having been involved in a few crimes! What police officers, detectives, and FBI agents allow random novelists to assist them in homocides? You don't see Tom Clancy palling around with the FBI or CIA. Is it because she's an old lady? Does this make her harmless? Is it because she's British? The have a soft spot for the accent? Or is it because they too saw "Beauty and the Beast" and wouldn't mind being poured a cup o' tea from her spout? "In to the cupboard Chip, it's past your bedtime".

Well...I'll let the evidence stand and let posterity be the judge of this t.v. series and it's leading lady. Knowing that "Murder She Wrote" is being broadcast in syndication around the world, we must be aware of the message we are sending about our law enforcement systems as well as the potentially dangerous ex-pat novelists lurking in our midst. If you have any question or comments during this long winter, you know where to find me...in front of the television. I do ask that you not disturb me from 3:00pm-4:00pm because that is when my new favorite show is on.

*Pics: http://www.space-debris.com/spy_lansbury_murder.jpg, http://www.tailslate.net/lsgraphics/tvIMGS/rev/murdershewrote1.jpg

"To Queue or Not to Queue"

2005-12-06T17:27:00.000+02:00

In America, we stand in lines. We form lines at registers, to buy tickets, to recieve services, to return services. Pretty much any time we Americans want to do something somebody else is doing, there is a line involved. In british-type nations, this is called "queueing". We agree on the shared meaning of these two concepts, "lines" and "queues", much in the same way we agree on potatoe/potatoe and tomatoe/tomatoe (trust me there's a difference). I have not yet learned the Estonian word for "line" or "queue". I know that "to wait" is ootama, but I do not think there is a universal consenses on how this is done.

Upon traveling half way around the world, I expected to encounter some culture shock; however, the people are very nice, the food is good, hailing a cab is easy, and the weather is manageable. However, I never thought "waiting" for services could be so foreign.

In Estonia, it is customary to engage in what I call, "the wrap". In this procedure, one clumps to the side of wherever you are trying to wait. I have not yet discovered if it is correct to "wrap" to the right or left of the desired destination. I tend to pick the most dense side and hope for strength in numbers. You then play as though you're at the stock exchange and try to get your bid in before the person on the opposing side. Or at least it feels this way. There are a few establishments where "lines" do exist. You will always find a line at the grocery store. The design of the check-out system most easily facilitates the "line" or "queue" formation. Another place it is usually customary to find a line is McDonalds.

Yes, they have McDonalds here. There are, in fact, four in Tallinn, and a slew of others elsewhere in the country. The one I visit is the most popular. It sits right on the edge of Old Town, or Vanalinn, a extremely beautiful part of the city. It is so popular, in fact, that signs point you in the correct direction from as far away as 400m, then 200m, and 50m, so that you can be in full salvitory mode by the time you get there.Westernization has a strong, greasy foothold even here in the Baltics. Now I know you're thinking, "Doesn't going to McDonalds contradict the "experience local culture" and ya-da-ya-da axiom?" Well...yes, but I was going to order the McRoyal which I'd never seen or heard of, so it was still going to be a "foreign experience". I also saw Harry Potter last week.

With symbols of Western culture like these, you would think that Estonians would be familiar with such concepts as "the line" or "the queue". I even remember hearing and reading about soviet inforced bread lines and things like that. Apparently the Estonians missed this day of my seventh grade world history class. This is why I attribute my biggest dose of culture shock to my last visit to McDonalds.

Upon entering, I noticed three well formed lines leading up to the register. the end of the shortest behind a single man, a young couple, and an older woman (who was directly in front of me). After recieving his order, the young man departed, and everyone shifted forward one space as normal. At this point, the old woman faltered and broke "line formation". She threw out the entire rule book and began to "wrI decided to stand atap". Perhaps it was because she is older and has not been as "westernized" as Estonian youths. Perhaps she was being patriotic. I couldn't tell.

Next, however, I did the unthinkable; I panicked. I lost my cool inside McDonalds, the safe-haven of westerners. I do not know if it was because I was being stubborn, or just confused and bewildered, but I held position in "the line". The young couple, old woman, and I had created the never before used "triangle" formation. This is a globally unrecognized waiting pattern as far as I know. Well, after this travesty, things only got worse.

In walked a new group of customers. They had two well-intact "lines" to choose from, and a precariously formed "traingle". Of course they could not choose the "lines". Maybe they were thrill seekers or even anarchists. As they approached, I decided to fold in and join the old woman's "wrap" (remember strength in numbers). The newcomers must have been Estonian, because this did not bother them, and they proceeded to "wrap" themselves near the register. Eventually I recieved my food, and ate my McRoyal in peace, thus ending my dramatic excursion to McDonalds.

I suppose the moral of the story is "be flexible". Or maybe it could be, "when in Rome...". In this case, however, perhaps the moral is, "whether you wrap, queue, or line, it's always McDonald's time".

*Pics: http://www.williamsandclarkexpedition.com/food%20vendor%20line.jpg, http://www.warriorlibrarian.com/HUMOUR/TOUR/lineup.jpg

I know more Chinese than Estonians

2005-12-04T17:25:00.000+02:00

Unlike my last entry, there is no truth-streching involved in today's entry. I am "more than aquainted" with four Chinese people, and three Estonians. You are probably asking, "But Andrew, how can that be? Are you not, in fact, living in Estonia?" Well, yes I am indeed living in Estonia, but hear me out:

I take my classes at the Estonian Academy of Music, and for some reason (one which I will expand upon later) over thirty of their fourty or so foreign students this year are from China. Like me, they are taking classes taught in English; however, unlike me, they do not really speak English. This makes learning Estonian quite interesting.

My Estonian teacher Kersti oversees me, Zhu Fong Lin, Haung Lin, Li Huang (took me forever to figure out who was who) and Lili. Kersti and I are the causcasian minority. I think their are two other Chinese boys in the class, but apparently truancy is a global phenomenon. My hat goes off to Kersti, she has made an effort to learn a little Chinese to help this process (it is usually ineffective) (pic:http://php.louisville.edu/news/images/instory/academyestis.jpg)

Basically this is the flow of class: Kersti asks us to read a passage. She's gotten into the habit of starting with either Lili or I, because we know the most english and understand the directions. After reading the estonian passage, we are then supposed to translate into english. Inevitably there is a word the others do not know. Amidst rapid Chinese, and Kersti repeating the word over and over again, I sit in doubt that class will progress beyond this moment. At some point, there is consencus among the Chinese about the meaning of the english word, and I am asked "Please, you put into here". This familiar phrases alerts me that I must type the english word into their electronic dictionarys so that it may forever be defined as whatever they figured out. I am scared to know what they came up with for "porridge".

Then it is the next student's turn to read the same passage. Now, I admit that estonian pronunciation can be difficult, especially if you speak tonally. At these times however, I am ashamed to remember National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation/ The Griswald Christmas, specifically the scene in which the Chinese waiters sing Jingles bells to the family. Politically incorrect, yes; horribly entertaining, yes. The song Jingle Bells will be the topic of a future blog.

When it comes time for their english translation there are two options available. Either the student will remember the previous discusion about the unkown word and speak it triumphantly, or the previous process will repeat. I hope and pray for the former.

It has now been about ten minutes, and it is time for the third person to speak the original estonian sentence. As though just awaking from a coma, they have no clue what is going on, where we are, and what we are doing. The class erupts into Chinese, and the affair is sorted out. Kersti tries to help, but it is futile, and sometimes I think she is as confused as they are. The look on her face reminds me of the feeling you get when you loose your train of thought and forget what you were going to say.

It takes about twenty minutes for the five of us to finish one exercise. During this time, I have heard quite a bit of Chinese, a fair amount of English, and very little Estonian. My fear is that I will leave this course speaking Estonian with a Chinese accent.

So why are there so many Chinese in Estonia? Honestly, I have no clue, and I am not sure they would understand me if I asked...Lili might. Somebody told me that many countries allow Chinese students to study at their universities for free, or close to free. It is like a "get out of China free card". I am not sure of this response, nor do I care much for its sentiment. Whatever the reason, they, like me, are here for the long haul. So to them I say, "Welcome, Bienvenido (i can speak some spanish), and Tere Tulemast (Welcome in Estonian)". And that is all I have to say about that...

(Pics: http://www.terrapinn.com/2006/reiw_cn/Img/china_flag_lg.jpg, http://php.louisville.edu/news/images/instory/academyestis.jpg, http://www.psychiatry.emory.edu/PROGRAMS/GADrug/images/frustrated.jpg)

Why I ate breakfast at noon

2005-12-02T17:22:00.000+02:00

Well...it was more like 11:30, but noon sounds more dramatic. Today is friday and I do not have class, or much of anything to do. In fact, my plan was to stay up late last night and sleep in today. Unfortunatley, there were no movies on television, it was really really cold outside, and I can only sit at the computer for so long. Giving up at 11:30pm (that's last night, not to be confused with my breakfast), I got ready for bed, read a chapter in my book, and fell asleep. I suppose we can call the amount of light here "0", assuming that this is the least amount of light I observed over that last twelve hours. Keep reading to follow my train of thought...

Having established our left most end of the light continuim at "0", lets make the far right "10". We'll call it "10" because this is a number we are all comfortable with when dealing with number scales. I could have used "5" but it weakens my upcomming analogy. "100" also works, but I think after "10" people have a hard time conceptualizing degrees of difference, kind of like Americans have a hard time conceptualizing weather in terms of the celcius scale. What does "7C" feel like? Actually, we Americans use Farenheit which goes above "100" and below "0", but I don't think we really know the difference between "65F" and "66F". Nevertheless, this is a discussion for some other time. Most importantly it is bad for my analogy...so lets move on. To summarize, we are calling "0" the least amount of light I observed at 11:30pm Dec.1st 2005, and "10" the highest amount of light I could hypothetically observe on a bright day with the sun overhead (optimal visibility etc...).

Ok, so I woke up at about "0.5" light. I understand this number is not on the scale, though we never specified if I was using integers or not. Continuing on...So I decided that no one should be awake at "0.5" light and went back to sleep. At "1" light, I was no longer tired, but I decided to lay in bed in contempt of the darkness. "1" light decided to stick around, so I got up and went to the bathroom and turned on a few lights in my place. This artificially lighting makes it look like "8" light in my place, but it was still "1" outside. After turing on my computer, doing my daily check up on world news, and catching up on e-mail correspondence, I realized that I was very hungry. Realizing it was about "2" light outside I decided that eventhough it was probably still the middle of the night, I was going to eat breakfast, stay up, and just deal with my sleep schedule being off. After pouring myself a bowl of cereal and peeling an orange I looked at a clock. It was, in fact, 11:30am with "2" light outside.

After sorting through many mixed emotions, I decided that I was relieved to have not ruined my sleep schedule, and that Estonia is a dark dark country in the Winter. It is currently 12:35pm with about "4" light outside. I think this may be our peak for the day, perhaps we will climb to "5" light if the clouds break up.

Because I have a few errands to run, and I prefer to do them during the day (which we have estabilished seems like perpetual dawn), I must end this posting. I am living in a daily race again the sun. Thru Dec. 22 we will loose aproximatley 5min.of light a day. It's wild!

An American...in Tallinn

2005-12-02T13:20:00.000+02:00

Gene Kelley eat your heart out. For those of you that get the reference, congratualtions. For those of you that do not...I have nothing left to say to you, except "carry on" and "perhaps you should see more musicals". Even though there are no small Estonian children breaking into song and choreographed dance, like in Grande Paris, the Estonians would like you to believe there were. Estonians are feircely proud of their musical traditions, which is why I am here. That, and hoping that I too can have dream-like halucinations about trampy female dancers while I do bell kicks and tap routines (still following the reference hopefully).

*At this time I would like to apologize to any readers as well a my junior high grammar and spelling teachers, Mr. Tucci and Mrs. Albrecht respectivaley, for suffering my atrocious spelling mistakes and misuse of punctuation. If this does not bother you enough to push the back-arrow button on your browser, or type in a new URL, then read on, and thank you.

I graduated from Northwestern University, June 2005, spent a long summer traveling the states with family, packed up my two bags (totalling almost 60kilos---major fines) and moved halfway around the world to the small nation of Estonia. At little bit of background and explanation:

For some reason you are allowed to be nosey and presumptious when dealing with seniors in college. At no other time in someones life can people evasivley peruse your business like this time. Everybody wants to know your life history, plan, and dreams. Unfortunatley for these busibodys, very rarely do 21 year olds have much to say about any of these. Nevertheless, I carefully crafted a response to rattle off in case of ambush: "I don't know". Realizing this was not the most effective response, as well as a poor testament to my folks' parenting and my own education and social upbringing, I decided to go with, "I applied for this grant thing, but I won't know until May. So I am hoping for that". For some reason, this worked.

And lucky for me, I got the grant thing and here I am in Tallinn, Estonia for the next nine months (I have been here one month already). My official reason for being here is to conduct research into Estonian music education and observe how this education helps promote the Estonian choral tradition. The unofficial reason that I am here is because now when someone asks me, "What are you doing when you get back?", people ask this because they are masochistic, or simply interested, I answer, "I don't know". Yes, I am soulsearching, but back to the Estonians. Turns out, nearly 1/3 of the country sings in a choir, they have huge song festivals every year, and attribute part of their independce to their "Sing Revolution" of the 1980's. In this "revolution" nearly 300,000 people (understand that there are currently about 1.4million in estonia-60-70f which are ethnic Estonians) gathered at the Tallinn song festival grounds for a major singing extravaganza. It worked, they are no longer under the thumb of Russia. These are the facts that drew me here.

Currently, I am taking two classes at the Estonian Academy of Music, Eesti Muusikaakadeemia: Estonian I, and Estonian Music and Culture. I am also singing in the Tallinna Kamerkoor, also know as the Tallinn Chamber Choir, and finding other ways to conduct my research.

*Though I have always been bad at keeping a journal, I will try to stick to this blog-thing. I will post my developments and observation here about Estonia, music, and me (sounds like a nice book title). And for my friend Trudee who I know will read this today and hopefully be a faithful reader as I will be to her blog (smile): "I want to learn to cook, to laugh, and I want to Tap dance".