Retrospect, Resumes, and the Rest of the Story...

I’m not sure if you knew this about me or not, but I’m an expert at hindsight. Retrospection and after-the-fact over-analysis are two of my most consistent character traits. This attribute is likely going to surface a few times during this potentially lengthy email, so take a deep-breath and perhaps a glass of wine. You’re in for a big one. I just thought I should warn you.

Our first example of hindsight relates to the very blog that you’re currently reading. After I posted stories and photos of the German and Czech adventure that was Kylepalooza ’07, I realized that I had neglected some crucial photos and stories. I’m ridiculous, I know. Just bear with me.

So lets start with the Ishtar Gate, one of the original entrances to the ancient city of Babylon. I don’t have a funny story to go with it, but I liked the picture a lot.


Kyle and I hit the Pergamon Museum just a few hours after Kyle’s bus pulled in, after which we shot over to the enormous Sony Center at Potsdamerplatz. For those unaware, the center, which holds a variety of restaurants, galleries and theatres, is recognizable from a far due to a huge glass and steel canopy that is meant to look like Mt. Fuji. So anyway, as we’re strolling through, we couldn’t help but notice a huge crowd of people, multiple projection screens, and more lights than the Superbowl. Of course, we felt it necessary to join the crowd. No sooner had we found ourselves a place near the front of the crowd, than a caravan of SUVs pulls up, and out steps Will Smith, wife Jada Pinkett, and son, whats-his-name. Apparently, we had stumbled onto the German premier of “The Pursuit of Happyness.” The funny thing is, most of the people in the crowd didn’t speak any English, so Will was greeted by shouts of “Veeel! Veeel! Hallo Veel!” Over and over and over. So of course, Kyle and I found it necessary to exercise our English fluency and shout “Love from Ohio, Will!” Don’t ask. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Well, anyway, Will turned to us and shouted “Yeah, Ohio!” That’s all there is to the story, really. But we think it’s a good one. It wasn’t until we were walking away that I realized I had miraculously captured the moment on film. So here’s a photo of Will “The Fresh Freakin’ Prince” Smith shouting “Yeah, Ohio!”



I already told you most of the Prague stories post-Berlin as they involved Kyle, but I might as well throw another picture in there. Pictured: Kyle, Mike, and Chuck (the Charles Bridge). This picture took forever to take, so I felt including it was necessary.


When last I posted, I didn’t have pictures of the Lednovy Underground Music Festical quite yet. So here is one of the decent ones sent to me since then. Pictured: Petr, Me, Boris, Kevin, and Michal. Kevin was being fuzzy when the photo was taken.


Retrospect also brought me to the conclusion that I hadn’t given due attention to the kind gentlemen who allowed me to crash in their flat for nearly a month. You’ve met Zach before… he was my roomie, traveling companion, and fellow beer critic last year. You’ve likely not yet met Andrew Straight. He has recently graduated from university with a degree in Music, recently proposed to a lovely young lady named Elanor, and recently recovered from a lengthy battle with Salmonella. It was pretty bad. Finally, we have Benji, a moody Beagle-ish dog who spends his time sleeping, drooling, humping and stealing and hiding shoes. We like him. Pictured: Zach, Andrew, and Benji.




Most of the last two weeks of my trip (post-Kyle) was spent with friends, former-students and the aforementioned moody Beagle. I spent more time in pubs than I care to admit, easily consumed more than 10 gallons of Masala tea at Kralupy’s teahouse. Like my last grand departure from Kralupy, I found that I hadn’t quite seen all the people I hoped to. So I sent out a blanket text message to the masses announcing that I would be at one specific pub at 7pm the night before my flight (Sunday), should anyone want to have one last beer with me before I go. 20 people showed up. On a Sunday night. In a wind storm. I’m not sure that I have that many friends in the states who would do the same. I’m going to miss them a lot. So here are pictures of them:




Also before I left, the friends who accompanied me to Siberia last summer gathered once again for an evening of stories, pictures and music. In addition to the original six, a handful of other friends joined in the festivities. It was a really great night. You may recall a photo from the Siberia blog in which Ondra, Martin and myself were displaying our Baltika beer proudly in front of the Trans-Siberian railroad line. Well we attempted to re-enact the photo, sans railroad, with Staropramen beer instead. I'm proud to have captured Ondra's halo on film as well. Pictured: The six Siberian travellers; St. Ondra, me and Martin.



I departed the Czech Republic on Monday morning. My dear friends, Zuzka and Katka drove me to Prague airport and sat with me while I waited for my flight. But it wasn't really goodbye, as they'll both be coming to visit me in the states this summer. Pictured: Me, Katka and Zuzka.


I mentioned to a friend yesterday that, while the trip was certainly full of people that I love dearly, it was also good for my soul and outlook on life in ways I hadn’t anticipated. I guess returning to a place that changed me so significantly over the course of two years, and finding that there are still people there who genuinely want me around and remember all the stories that I often think about… (again, hindsight playing an integral role in my well-being)… well it was just really good. But I also find myself a bit more optimistic about whats next. I cant really explain why, but returning to Kralupy brought a lot of closure for me. Apparently there wasn’t quite enough closure to keep me from applying for jobs in Prague before I left, but alas, the fish just weren’t biting. So now I’m back in the states.

I’ve been back in North Ridgeville, OH less than 100 hours, and already I’m feeling stir-crazy. I’ve never wanted to work… or at least to be productive… so badly in my life. I’ve been sending resumes to companies like its going out of style… and have unfortunately received very little feedback. If I don’t find something in the next week or two, I may very well just move to Chicago and work as a waiter for a bit longer. Its not such a bad deal, and it would certainly help the fact that I don’t really know many people in Chicago. But I’m pretty ambivalent about Cleveland and all that comes with living here. So why not throw caution to the wind once more while I can? Right? (This is where I need you to insert affirmation… or a job offer.)

Unlike my last post, I can’t promise that I’ll keep you updated in the near future. If I move I will certainly post an update, but my blogging motivation stateside is waning. The best way to reach me is email, and I would love to hear from you. I hope this note finds you well, my friends. Thanks for reading all of this.

Two quick notes before I go.

• As I type this, my counter is at 9,998 vistors. That means that the second person to view this new post will be the big #10,000. Congratulations, whoever you are. Shoot me a note and I’ll give you due recognition.

• If you’re the iTunes-perusing type, download “Long Time Traveller” by the Wailin’ Jennys. I submit it as one of the most beautiful songs ever written.

Czech, Germany, and the Big 10k

Its been a while, friends. Once again, I find myself at a loss for good reasons that I haven't blogged in the last few months. My last excuse was a combination of withdrawl and denial. This time I can only plead laziness. Turkey season, the twelve days of Christmas and the turn of the year all came and went in a whirlwind. Most of my whirlwind experience was spent at Swingos Grand Tavern. I sold filet mignon and bathtub-sized banana splits like a maniac. Alas, those days are over now. January 2nd was my last day. Two days later, I was on a plane back to Europe. Pictured: The last night at Swingos. From the left: Christine, Bonnie, Andrea, Mike, Sean, Patrick.


The plan all along (though I occassionally second-guessed it) was to find gainful, interesting employment in Cleveland for the remainder of 2006 and to return to Kralupy for a student ball, a music festival, and one of the most beautiful places in the world sans tourists. And so it was. I did my best to hit the ground running and in the first three days managed to attend a wedding, a student ball, and more than a few pubs with friends I'd been missing terribly. In a lot of ways it feels like I never left. I'm sipping the same brew, laughing at the same stories, and dancing traditional Czech dances with people who call me "Miku" because they don't realize that English grammar doesn't change names like theirs does. My Czech came flooding back as soon as I stepped off the plane, and that alone had me smiling for a good couple of hours. It feels really good to be back here. Pictured: Prague


3 1/2 days after arriving in Prague, I found myself stepping off of a bus in Berlin, Germany. The following morning I met my long-time friend, brother, and partner-in-crime, Kyle, who had flown in from Scotland. Having thoroughly (which is a really hard word for Czechs to say) enjoyed the city last year, it only seemed right that I take Kyle on a grand tour. My pictures are a bit limited, because in all honesty, I have more than plenty of pictures of the same places from last year... just hit my archived post from February (or March?) 2006. So the two of us toured, sipped german hefeweisen and gluhwein, and made fools of ourselves on more than one occasion. All elements of a quality German sojourn, I think. We also met a two young ladies from Peru and Denmark, with whom we toured and gorged ourselves on schnitzel. Pictured: Brandenburg Gate; Kyle and I at the Pergamon Altar; Kyle, Adriana, Sedsil, and me at a little German pub.




After a few days in Germany, Kyle and I bussed back down to Prague. As mentioned previously, part of my choosing to return now was for the Lednovy Underground Music, in which I have taken part the last two years. This year was by far the best. My great friend Kevin, who lives in the town of Ostrava, took a 5 hour train into Prague just to play drums with us for 20 minutes. What a great guy. There are quite a few other pictures of Kevin elsewhere in this blog. So it was Kevin, myself, Boris (also pictured frequently) on saxophone, Petr on guitar, and Michal on bass. The crowd included so many of my old students who have been requesting the same songs for the last two years. It was so fun... though exhausting. I hope to have pictures of that soon. The next couple of days were spent touring the lovely city of Prague... let's be honest, I give a pretty incredible tour. You should probably hire me. The Prague leg of our world tour involved quite a few late nights, most of which can be blamed on English teachers at Gymnazium nad Aleji. I'm confident they'll disagree, but don't listen. Pictured: Kyle and I above the Charles Bridge; Amy, Kassidee, Ben, Kyle and myself at a random pub.



So Kyle hopped on a plane back to the states (with a layover in Istanbul??) on Tuesday night, and since then I have been relaxing and meeting with friends and students. I even had a chance to help Zach teach one of my old classes. I plan to continue with much of the same until my departure on January 29th.

As for whats next, I'm not ready to think about it too seriously. For better or worse. I'll likely post a more sentimental/introspective/panicked perspective of whats to come in a later blog.

As for the 10k mentioned in the title, scroll down to the bottom of the page real quick. You just may be the 10,000th visitor. Congratulations. As for the honor of being your e-distraction of choice, I'd like to thank the academy, my parents, my friends, and of course Time Magazine for choosing me as the 2006 Person of the Year. Maybe I'll put that on my resume.

Thanks for reading. I'll post again soon.

Autumn in Ohio

Its been two months since my last update.  To be honest, it wasn’t completely unintentional.  Re-adjusting to a country and culture so different than those of my last two years, combined with a little voice in my head that often whispers “You have no idea what you’re doing next”… didn’t lend itself to a desire for public disclosure and scrutiny.  Sorry for that.  I just wasn’t ready to update.

However, in the last week and a half I’ve made a handful of decisions.  How long said decisions will last is a whole different issue, but as my friend Kyle and I determined this week: we’re confident in where we think we’re headed.  Whatever that means.  But I’m ahead of myself.  Lets back up a bit.

I returned to North Ridgeville, Ohio on August 8th.  You may or may not recall that two weeks before my initial departure for the Czech Republic, my parents moved to a new house in a new town.  My enthusiasm about returning to a fairly unfamiliar town with very few remaining/single friends was waning. I spent the first couple of weeks sitting around and reading books.  I took a short trip to Chicago to play music at the wedding of Greg and Liz Masching (that wasn’t her last name before the wedding).  Post-wedding is when the anxiety started to set in.  So I started sending resumes.  Unfortunately the job application process isn’t nearly as speedy as I had hoped it might be, and financial need led me to get a job as a server at Swingos Grand Tavern, a swanky new restaurant not far from my parents’ place.  I’m learning tons about top-shelf wine and single-malt scotch, which has been really fun.  It’s a great job with great co-workers, but the restaurant business is not my career of choice.  In the meantime, resumes were processed, interviews were done, and though a few opportunities rose to the top I have yet to find a job that I’m genuinely excited about.  So I’m still looking.

As you might expect, this time of reflection, analysis and self-marketing has led me to consider on my options and interests a fair bit.  So the aforementioned decisions I’ve recently made are as follows…  For the next month and a half I’ll be preparing to take the LSAT.  No gasps please.  This doesn’t mean I’ve decided to attend law school.  It simply means that I’m going to take the test, see how I do, and make my decision accordingly.  I’ll continue to wait tables until New Years-ish.  The arrival of 2007 will mark my return to Europe for a short visit.  I’ll be spending as much time as possible with my friends in Kralupy and Prague during that time, and possibly taking a side trip or two to visit folks elsewhere.  When I return home, I plan on staying only long enough to establish residency elsewhere.  I’m thinking about Chicago.  From what I hear, finding work in another city is far easier if you live there.  So I think I’ll go.  I mean, why not.

In other news, Mr. Jason Chamlee, my former roommate, traveling companion, and European partner-in-crime is now married to the former Miss Susana Torres.  They were married on October 7 at Kumler Chapel in Oxford, Ohio.  I was a groomsman and musician for the ceremony.  It was an amazing weekend spent with old friends and Sgt. Joshua Florio, home for three weeks on leave from Afghanistan.  He’ll be heading back over on Thursday (tomorrow) and I’m sure he’d love to find a care package or two waiting for him when he gets there, so shoot me a note if you want his address.  Pictures of the wedding are posted below.

I hope that as you read this, you are doing well.  I’d love to hear from you sometime.  My email is HarveyME@gmail.com.  

It took far longer to take this photo than it should have,

Chams, Fleaux and I.

The wedding party. We're just a bunch of good-looking people. Let's be honest.

Wedding rehearsal.

Culture Shock. Because of lawsuits over the name Budweiser, the original Budvar cannot be marketed under that name in the states... but Czechvar? Thats just ridiculous. Oh, and it doesn't even taste good. I'm despondant.

I applied for a Key Visa card to get a free iPod Nano. I received this letter in response. I laughed for days. Keep in mind I've been earning Czech Koruna for the last two years.

Siberia

My trip to Siberia was probably one of the most remarkable experiences of my life. I’ll do my best to explain why in the coming paragraphs, but honestly I’m hoping to see most of you in the coming weeks, so a coffeeshop or a pub (more for my European friends… as pub culture isn’t exactly flourishing in the States) may be a more appropriate venue for these stories to be told.

So a few months back, my friend Boris asked if I would be interested in taking a backpacking trip to Lake Baikal, Russia with him and some other friends. Though I had been planning a few things in the back of my mind for that time, the opportunity to spend three weeks in Russia with a 5 Czechs fluent in Russian seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime chance. So I jumped on it. The group included (from the left): Pavla the university student, Myself, Martin the PhD candidate and history teacher, Tereza the university student and girlfriend to Boris, Ondrej the photographer, and Boris the Physics teacher.

Part One: Registration

Despite a recent airplane crash in Irkutsk, we decided to place our trust in Pulkovo Airlines, and land in this Siberian industrial town only a few days later. The adventure began almost immediately. By law, all foreigners must register with the police within three days of arrival. We had been given the contact information of a travel agency in Irkutsk which could apparently make a typically long registration process significantly shorter. However, after two hours of looking for the agency, we were told that it had closed a few months before. Frustrated, we opted to suck it up and stand in line at the foreign police station. Little did we know, however, that though the police station was open, Thursday was a day that foreign registration was not possible. It was Thursday. The woman at the counter, who would typically be the one to register us, suggested another travel agency. We called the agency and they sent a van to pick us up. We were then taken to this back-lot shack of a building, where a dark office on the second floor and a woman at a cluttered desk served as our travel agency. (Photo: Steps leading to the Travel Agency)

After an hour or so of paperwork, money exchanges and passport checks, we were again sent away by van. This time the van took us to a police station. But friends, this was not like any police station you’ve seen before. Situated in the middle of what seemed an endless field of cement block housing, this desolate facility, with boarded up windows and all, looked a though it should have been on someone’s “condemned” list. We walked through the doorway into an empty dark hallway, lit only by a single bare lightbulb. We turned a few corners and up a dark set of stairs to a heavy, locked metal door. Our guide/travel agent knocked loudly on the door, was asked to identify himself (in Russian of course) and we were allowed to enter. Behind said door was long dark corridor, again lit by a naked bulb, in which a dozen or so Mongolian men were sitting silently on benches, apparently awaiting their turn for something. We walked past them and into a small room full of cardboard boxes, technical equipment in various stages of disrepair, and one little old woman sitting behind a desk piled high with papers. One by one we gave our information and money to the lady, and one by one were given our registration papers. I’m still not entirely sure what that was all about, but I was thankful when we emerged alive and well from that building. (Photo: The Police Station)

Part Two: The Beginning

Post-registration, we headed to the Irkutsk train station, where we caught a 3-hour train to Sludyanka, a small fishing town on the boast of Baikal. Once there, no further connections were available so we set up our tents in a city park. The next morning we had a breakfast of pieroshki (fried bread stuffed with mashed potatoes) and smoked fish (sold from cardboard boxes by a dozen or so little old ladies at nearly every train station in the country… I know that sounds like an invitation for intestinal devastation, but they were actually quite good). Soon thereafter we hopped a taxi-van to our trailhead at the base of the mountains. And so it began.

I’ve never seen so many mosquitoes and flies in my life. Let’s just start there. Saturated in OFF, the six of us swam through a sea of insects that first day, slopped endlessly through ankle-deep mud and over miles of tree roots. By the end of the second day, we had emerged from our present-day plague of locusts into a beautiful expanse of Siberian mountains, lakes and rivers… but believe me when I say I was cursing my decision to come on the trip during those first 24 hours.

Each day in mountains consisted of routine. Because we were so far north, the sun didn’t go down until around midnight and then rose again 3 hours later. This allowed us to hike much later than we might have done in other parts of the world, and also allowed us to sleep a bit later. So each day, we rose around 9, breakfasted for an hour or so, then began our trek. Breakfast was typically tea, soup, and oatmeal. A lunch of dried meat, granola, crackers and cheese came around 3pm. Hiking ended around 8 each night. A bonfire or propane stove heated rice, pasta, instant mashed potatoes and dried meat each night for dinner.

As for weather, most days were 70F (21C)-ish and cloudy. It rained nearly every night. I don’t know if that’s typical Siberian weather, but it wasn’t so bad.

Part Three: The River

Our approach was simple. We had a map which showed a trail leading from our trailhead to the village of Arshan. We estimated the trip would take ten days, and so we prepared accordingly. The trouble is, occasionally the map wasn’t entirely accurate. The most memorable example of this is a river crossing which was marked on the map as having a bridge from one side to the other. When we arrived, however, only the foundations of a bridge remained. Fortunately, we met a man on the bank of the river who offered us a rope, if we promised to return it to his flat on our way back through Irkutsk. I guess I didn’t realize initially how crucial this rope was. The river was 20 yards wide, chest deep, and extremely fast and cold. We were 6 days into the trip so turning back wasn’t an option… so we made sure all of important stuff was in plastic bags inside our packs and one by one made our way across the river. After Ondra crossed first with the rope, the line was tied to boulders on both sides of the river. Even with the rope, crossing was treacherous, and Boris ended up with a wicked rope bur across his forearm when one hand nearly lost its grip. Providence came to our aid again, when two Russian men, Sasha and Yasha appeared on the opposite bank. We had met these two men earlier on the trail, and they had fortunately opted to spend a whole day camped by the river after their own treacherous crossing. Using a shorter length of rope and a carabiner, Sasha set up a harness system that allowed us to cross without absolute dependence on our hands. It took nearly three hours for all six of us to cross. Oh and it started raining an hour into the crossing. It was cold, wet, dangerous, and one of the most memorable things I’ve done in the last two years. (Photos: Panoramic of the river. Boris crossing for the second time.)

Shivering yet accomplished, we were then led to Sasha and Yasha’s camp, where these two men cooked us dinner, prepared liter after liter of tea, and hung a plastic tarp over our heads to keep us dry during the meal. There was speculation that maybe we had not in fact survived the river, and this camp was heaven. That was quickly ruled out by the presence of our soaked boots and bruised legs, but we were all feeling pretty great. (Photo: Yasha making dinner with spices found in the woods... notice the boots lined up for drying around the fire.)

The next morning we hiked again, our boots finally dry after a night next to a roaring fire. Sometime around lunchtime, we stumbled across a beautiful riverside beach. It was one of the only really hot sunny days we’d had, and the beach was sandy and empty. The decision to spend the afternoon relaxing there was not a difficult one.

The 12-day trip through the mountains ended in the village of Arshan. It rained the last 24 hours of our trip, so that last stretch was particularly muddy and dangerous as we balanced our way across a half dozen make-shift log bridges. We emerged from the forest around 3 in the afternoon, and were immediately greeted with loud Russian hip-hop music, and shop after shop selling bootleg movies and souvenir Buddha statues. I laughed my way through the most of the village. From Arshan we took a bus back to Sludyanka. After another night in the village park and a morning of smoked fish at the train station, he hopped a train along the coast of Baikal. (Photo: Sludyanka train station)

Part Four: The Railroad

The train we boarded was a tourist train which allowed passengers to stop every 30 minutes or so and walk around, take pictures, and learn the history of the former Trans-Siberian railroad which had once run along the same track. 25 miles (40 kilometers) before the end, we decided to get off the train with all of our stuff. We hiked the remaining distance on the railroad tracks over three days, and camped alongside the tunnels and aqueducts of the former train-line. It was relaxing and really beautiful. A nice end to our Siberian excursion.

Part Five: The Long Trip Home

When we reached the end of the trainline, we took a van back to Irkutsk, where we cleaned up, explored the city, and sipped a bit o’ Russian vodka. Strapped for Russian Rubles, we opted to sleep at the train station that night and head to the airport early the next morning. I don’t care how pretty a train station is, sleeping in such a place is never comfortable. But whatever. Squinty eyed and crabby, we arrived at the airport around 7am… only to find that because of the airports limited ability to only process one flight at a time, our plane would not be leaving until 1:30. So we sat and waited. (Photo: Ondra, Martin and I passing the time in Irkutsk)

Our flight to St. Petersburg was thankfully uneventful. A 15-hour layover meant that the airline put us up in a hotel for the evening, and we had some time to explore the city. With only a short-time to explore, we walked briskly through the city taking pictures of things we knew nothing about, and eating heaps of Russian baked goods with the knowledge that we wouldn’t have another opportunity. (Photos: St. Petersburg)

We returned to Prague bright and early on the morning of July 31^st.

I don’t imagine I’ll ever forget this trip. The mountains, mosquitoes, and mud will remain forever etched in my mind. Unfortunately, I also know that I will likely not return to this part of the world in my life, and certainly not with 5 great Russian-speaking Czech friends. I can’t tell you how glad I am that I jumped on this opportunity when I did.

Top 5 Songs playing in my head during this 19 day adventure...

• High and Dry by Radiohead
  
• Vienna (There's Really No Way to Reach Me) by The Fray
  
• Wade in the Water as arranged by Eva Cassidy
  
• Ain't No Sunshine by Bill Withers
  
• Black River by Amos Lee

You’ve been reading for a while now… or at least skimming. I’d love to hear your thoughts. Post a comment or leave me a note.