Hallstatt

Life preserver in our shuttle boat

The town of Hallstatt is one of Austria's most beautiful towns, and is a UNESCO world heritage site.  It is also closed for most of the months of October and November, due to little tourist traffic.  Of course, Rachel (my friend and fellow Fulbrighter) and I had no idea that this was the case when we made plans to visit one Wednesday that we both had off.  Hallstatt is one of the oldest settlements in Europe, as we learned in the history museum.  The Celts settled there long ago; it was a Roman trade stop, and essential to the salt trade and therefore the wealth of Austria as a whole.  The mountains around Hallstatt are full of salt.  They are also gigantic, making salt mining difficult and dangerous.  Apparently the Celts used to march pigs up the mountains and slaughter them in the salt mines so they could cure the meat right then and there.

Rachel and I took an early-ish train through the mountains, which took much longer than it should have but was thankfully a beautiful ride.  The train stops at the "station" (a tiny building with no bathroom, no ticket booth, and no platforms) where you can either wander along the tracks for miles or hop on the ferry boat to get to the town across the lake.  It's incredibly isolated and incredibly beautiful.  We were basically the only people in the town, which has only one main road and buildings built straight up the mountain and down to the water's edge.  There's a plaque that describes how the majority of the residents die of drowning or landslides (or falling, I can't quite remember), and it's easy to see why.  The highlight of our day was definitely the town's museum, where you can pay seven Euro to see excellent - and slightly laughable - exhibits about the history, nature, and art of Hallstatt.  We particularly loved the exhibit of human excrement on the wall.

Here you can read what Rick Steves has to say about Hallstatt.  I'd say it's definitely worth a visit, though it's probably a better destination in warmer months when the stores are actually open.

The Austrian flag

Rachel, my companion for the day

The beautiful buildings of Hallstatt, built right up the mountain and right down to the water's edge.

Hallstatt main square

Time travel, on the steps to the Hallstatt museum

The DOOR OF HISTORY.

Human excrement on display.

Yeah, I don't know either.

Hallstatt scenery

The ferry boat

Reverse Culture Shock

I am, as always, incredibly behind on my blog.  Blog-wise, I'm still in fall of year two; in real life I have completed my second year and have returned home to figure out the next step.  I am slowly coming to terms with the fact that I am now officially back in the US for the foreseeable future.  This means, among other things, answering plenty of well-meaning questions like "so what are your next plans?" and "when (if ever) will you be going back?"  These questions are often followed by "what's it like being back?" and "how is it different in Europe?"

Truthfully, the second set of questions cannot be answered in a blog entry or an extended conversation.  It would take a lifetime to explain how it's different, and another for me to put words to what it's like being back.  Naturally, it's nice being home.  But there are some things I will miss.  I will miss the mountains, the people I have come to know and love, the ease of travel, and the sense of adventure in the most mundane things like attempting to find molasses in a grocery store (which I did, thank you very much).  But I think I will miss the pace of life the most.

Last year when I got home over the summer, I remember looking around in Chicago O'Hare at everyone stressing in the security line, checking cell phones and making work calls.  I remember being shocked.

Today I read this article called "The 'Busy' Trap," which depicts the sentiment I want to express better than I can.  In German there are two words for busy that essentially mean "industrious" (fleissig) versus "occupied" (beschäftigt).  We Americans like to be occupied; we find things to fill our day and rush from one thing to the next to check each off our list.  In Salzburg I rarely ever felt the need to do this.  I was often industrious, but I was rarely ever occupied solely for the sake of doing something.  When I was occupied, it was with things that I enjoyed like hiking or spending time with friends, or even just sitting by the river.  I'm not sure I've ever read so many books in my entire life.

Like I said, I can't really answer what it's like to be back without writing a novel.  But read the article.  It portrays much of what I'm feeling and coming to terms with in this re-acclimation phase.

Gee, you look tired today

Though I have now lived here for almost two years, there are some things that I am not yet used to.  Many of these have to do with manners - Austrians and Americans have a different idea of what is polite.

 Let me start by saying that I in no way mean to offend anyone.  These are my observations, and they are generalizations.  They are things I have witnessed and had to come to terms with while here. 

The reason for this post is that yesterday I was told by multiple people that I looked tired.  I must have looked really awful; however I feel that at home, the people you work with would generally refrain from coming up to you and commenting on how tired your eyes look.  That's the job of your close friends and relatives.  But here, it seems that it's just a way of making small talk.

Austrians and Americans do have a different idea of what constitutes acceptable small talk.  Americans will ask "how are you?" as a way of being polite; Austrians will give you an honest answer.  A fine example is this excerpt from an actual conversation with a teacher:
"How are you today?"
"Fine, thanks! You?"
"Actually not too good, I've got a bad case of diarrhea."
 ".............."
My poor American mind didn't (and still does not) know what to do with so much information.  I would generally say that my stomach is "off" or upset or something.  Bowel movements are, again, restricted to conversations with your close friends and relatives (and even then it's a little much sometimes).

One thing I only recently mastered was the fact that, here in Salzburg, it is essential to greet the room when you walk in.  In the teachers' lounge you need to say hello.  This is perhaps not that different from home.  However, what is different is that you do the same when walking into a store.  I have finally committed to saying "Grüß Gott!" when I enter a store, and saying goodbye when I leave.

What I have not yet mastered, however, is doing the same when I enter and leave the locker room at the gym.  Fully clothed, I have no problems with greeting everyone.  Greeting a room full of half naked women that I have never met is a different story.  But that's the way it's done, so I try my best even though I find it horribly uncomfortable. 

This topic of what differs between Austria and America will, I'm sure, be very present in my blogs as I come to terms with the fact that I will be leaving very soon.  For now, if you're interested in more differences between small talk styles, read this article on the differences between British and German small talk.  I know, it's not the same as America and Austria, but much of it still applies.

Hiking the Schafberg

Panta, me, Mary, and Claudia on a very unstable plank/bridge at the beginning of our hike

Remember how I said we had forty days of sunshine in the fall?  One of our last truly sunny and warm days, Claudia, Panta, Mary, Bernhard (Claudia's friend), and I hiked the Schafberg.  Normally by November it's cold and snowy enough that there isn't a lot of traffic on the mountain, but we lucked out.

I had made the conscious decision not to go anywhere for fall break this year.  During both my abroad semester and last year I felt like I had to see everything, to go everywhere.  By now I think I've seen many of the places I have always dreamed of - certainly more than I ever expected to see - and decided to explore more of Austria instead.  Naturally, that meant hiking an Alp.

Claudia's friend Bernhard is an experienced hiker who had hiked the Schafberg upwards of 30 times last summer, and we enlisted him to lead us up the mountain.  We got an early (and slightly chilly) start to our hike.  Supposedly it's a six hour hike, but we decided that six hours Austrian hiking time is more like seven American hiking time.  As my former German teacher would say, Austrians "truck" with the ease of mountain goats.  Just ask my dad, who will most likely do an impression of his Austrian fishing guide leaping from rock to rock.  There is certainly a different approach to climbing an Alp that we Americans experienced on this hike.  Hiking a mountain like this can be a spontaneous decision, whereas anywhere I've ever lived I've had to plan well in advance to go on a hike of this magnitude.  And schnapps is involved.

Anyway, Bernhard fearlessly led us up the mountain, over the rivers and through the woods, until we reached the top in the early afternoon.  There we took pictures and ate lunch next to the cross at the summit.  After a little wandering and a lot of gawking at the paraglider launching himself off the mountain, we sped down the mountain to beat the sunset and the cold.  It was definitely a strenuous adventure, but it was one of the most enjoyable things I've done in Austria.  There's nothing like working up a sweat with good company and a great view.

The gang (Bernhard was playing photographer)

Panta and his new best friend

The back of the Schafberg

Gipfelkreuz! The cross at the summit

Bernhard with the mountain sign

We watched this guy launch himself off a mountain

The mountain at the top of the photo directly above the paraglider is the Untersberg, the mountain in whose shadow Salzburg sits.

The whole crew: Mary, Panta, Claudia, me, and Bernhard

The slow descent