Last Days in Vienna (Part IV)

The Christmas markets and seasonal drinks of Austria hold a tender place in my heart.  When I think of Austria now I often imagine a wintry scene with snow, and people's hot breath drifting from their mouths like the steamy sigh of an extinguished dragon.  If you can imagine such a thing...

Funny how you come to remember places.

I think of the many cafés and the copious cups of coffee washing down words, oiling conversation and bonding friendships. I remember too the cake and strüdl. Funny how much of my recollection is filtered through food and drink.

The last weeks and days flew by. It was an emotional time. It is hard to tear oneself from new friends. In situations where groups of people are tossed into new surroundings, and they have to swim or sink, searching for accommodation and striving for the perfect lesson plan inevitably brings people together. Nothing like borderline trauma to temper the links and bonds between a network of people.

But ultimately I did not mind leaving the city. It is true it does take time to adjust to a new lifestyle and to readjust to an old one but while I wondered would my new friends stay friends and what jobs or experiences life had for me beyond the next meander-the things I would miss the most might not stay in Vienna. They were not fixed inanimate objects and to live is to change-they could move maybe even come visit and Vienna would be there. As Billy Joel reminds us 'Vienna waits for you'.

I packed my things and folded my memories tucking them all away for safekeeping. Vienna is a gem of a city but I had a greater treasure waiting for me at home.

Last Days in Vienna (Part 3)

I was underwhelmed at first and perhaps burdened with my thesis but I fumbled blindly around the city for 4 days before moving on to Graz.  I was eager to make my mark and set about meeting, greeting and trying to make new friends.  I think I succeeded with relative success.

Back in Vienna I was ready to get stuck in and start my new life.  As an aspiring writer I loved the artsy scene, the theatre and the opera. And the city of the Third Man. 

I loved the history of this city; centre of the Holy Roman Empire, home of Freud, a hotspot for Cold War espionage and the list goes on.

There was plenty here to muse on, histories, legends and myths fermenting in my mind.  I was particularly intrigued by the story of the 'Wild Geese' in Austria.  I often commnted on how the four horsemen guarding Maria Theresa were all Irish.  Emigrants or refugees, asylum seekers or mercenaries you decide.  These men built a life in Austria making a substantial military contribution to its stability and prosperity.  The last recipient of the prestigious Military Order of Maria Theresa, Banfield, was a descendent of these Wild Geese.  He was commended for his gallant efforts as a navy pilot during the First World War.
I wondered about myself and how, if at all, I might fit into this tradition as a young Irishman abroad.  There was sorrow but dignity there.  Yet, for all their efforts these men remain largely unknown.  For Austrians, I suppoelse it was not a big deal to have 'foreignors' fight in their army after all their Empire stretched across many borders, uniting several ethnic groups.  It certainly was not uncommon for Irishmen to seek fame, fortune or simply a better life abroad.

Over time I learned how to behave in the social scene in Vienna.  I had a four day week at school so my weekends started on Thursday.  There was often a dinner, shin-dig or box social to be had, usually at Dietlinde's flat - the most fabulous apartment I have ever seen.
We dappled with a movie night for a while and brunch became a regular occurrence.  As did coffee dates, chats and general rendezvous.

I have often fondly nourished memories of lounging in these cafés sipping coffee or some variation of tea, with my friends.  Most of my memories of Vienna seem to be of dining and drinking but thankfully on all occassions surrounded by good company.  A man cannot live on food alone after all and conversation feeds the soul.

I relished chat of stuff and junk.

We floated between cafés: Prückl, Rosa, Weltcafe, Wirr, Kleines Café, Cafe Central, sampling the melange, the cake and other dishes. Some were classic Viennese Kaffeehaus (Cafe Central) with while others were modern (Cafe Rosa).

Other popular social spots were Irish bars Charlie P's and Flanagans, Travelshack, Shebeen, Nachbar, Kolar and Debakel. Of course in the run up to Xmas Museumsquartier and the Altes AKH served many a hot drink. I can still taste it now breathing in the aroma and spice whilst clutching my mug tightly. The warmth it offered as we ingested its nourishment- there really is nothing quite like punsch.

Last Days in Vienna (Part 2)

Vienna, for me, will always mean change, growth and adventure.  Time and time again I come back to that city in my writing.  It is the milestone by which I measure so many aspects of my life.

While my German only marginally improved in 2007 I found my outlook largely altered.

My hopes and ambitions instantly changed - I had intended to concentrate on History and English for my BA but Vienna changed that.German became my goal.  I dreamt of writing my own krimi, of a flat tucked away on the Viennese backstreets and bi-linguial conversation.

Vienna influenced my subject choice and thus influenced my life choices - I went to Munich in 2008 as part of the Erasmus/Socrates programme.  I studied at LMU München and fell in love.  Vienna did that for me - I may as well have gone another way.

I wanted to get back to Vienna.  I had heard of the Language Assistant Programme.  Whilst researching my MA I applied to the programme.  A few months later I received a letter.  I was warned that may not hear anything else until late Summer.  Sure enough this was the case.
I got an e-mail in July notifying me of my placement and urging me to contact with my school.
I carried out these instructions with zeal writing a letter in English, German and an e-mail graciously accepting the offer.

I got back to writing my thesis.

I moved to Vienna on September 21st.

It was a difficult journey, physically it was straight forward, emotionally I had doubts and second thoughts but I charged forward.  This was my city and I had waited years to get back.  Here, I was.  I should't mope.

Last Days in Vienna (Part 1)

When I was in Ireland that first week of December I decided I would not come back to Vienna.  For various reasons I do not want to go into here I believed it better to remain in Ireland after the Christmas break.

At first I was a little reluctant-I did not want to leave this city that offered so much, a city I could feel at home in, a bizarre mix of bohemian cosmoplitanism.  True, at times it frightened me and I felt an alien here because my language was not up to scratch.  However, I also learned a great deal about myself with much previously taken for granted called into question.

Vienna had been my epiphany.
In truth I expected nothing less.

When I first came to this city, many moons ago in 2007, I was a 'new' man of the world.  I had seen so little abroad and it was my first time truly alone.  Without friends, without family it was something altogether new for me but I was determined to attend this IKI sprachkurs and improve my German.
It was quite possibly some of the best weeks of my life.  I met many interesting people, some of them I am still in touch with, people who opened my mind.  Young people from the world over.  People like me.  Curious, hungry and maybe a little naive.

I learned about countries I had hardly heard about, challenged notions I carried of those I had and encouraged me to think about my own homeland.

A weekend at home, Toy shows and school holidays

2 December - 7 December

A flight from Bratislava to Dublin

Annual televised Toy Show

Flight to Vienna

Church/School holiday

Opera etc.

I was worried. My roster had me penciled in for two Friday classes even though I was told I would never have a class on that day, a courtesy granted by the school.  I already had a minor confrontation with my betreuungslehererin having asked for the Monday off.

I was scolded.

I was threatened.

And all this drama unfolded in the teacher's lounge as we celebrated a colleague's birthday.  I thought it was unprofessional and a little bit awkward!

I was offered cake.

I made no apologies.

In the end I was released with a warning and cautioned that the powers in the bm:uk might come after me if they caught wind of my plans.  I doubted they would.

I was reliably informed Mondays were my busiest day.  After that weekend I believe I had 3 Mondays off in a row.  Funny that.

The weekend in question, 2/12/11-5/12/11 I was flying from Bratislava to Dublin.  Some weeks before I had taken the precaution of purchasing tickets from the International Bus station at Erdberg.  A return ticket set me back €20.

I was unimpressed with the price and the rising costs and ended with my angry resolve that my endeavours to save money were often fruitless, especially my attempt to secure cheap flights which were mounting similar deficits as if I had just chosen the basic and common option i.e. Aer Lingus. It was a tough lesson learned and I stowed it where I stowed all other useful information somewhere in the deep dark recesses of my memory. As I was worried about my spontaneous Friday classes and because I was reluctant to enter into further confrontation with my school I went back to the bus station in the hopes that I could change my bus times. The lady was very accomodating even speaking in English, however, it soon emerged that while I could change my bus departure time I would be late for my flight. I left it as it was and shuddered and trembled at the thought of having to beg my teacher master overlords for their understanding and possible forgiveness, as it were my worry was for nothing. The next day I went into school my Friday classes were scratched out. On Thursday I got my hair l cut. It was a strange and unique experience-the first time I had my hair cut abroad. The guy, an energetic and enthusiastic Turk, gave me a Biff style haircut straight out of Back to the Future! I had mixed feelings but I was told that I "grew into it".

My friend Anne visited she was passing through Vienna. We had a few chats and drinks but ended up in O'Connor's Old Oak Pub drinking cauliflower soup. The next day I had to make my way to Erdberg I got on the bus pulled out my book and sat back and relaxed as we powered toward Bratislava. Bratislava airport is a wonderfully modern building and a little anachronistic if I am honest. I loitered bought some coffee lingered a little longer before I went through security. The flight was okay (tea was expensive) I landed in Dublin some three hours later and to schedule. I got picked up at the airport and made my way to Skerries. That night the annual and a luttle famous Toy Show was broadcast on RTE. It almost always offers a few good laughs. It was satisfactory but nothing especially good or memorable :)

I had a nice quiet weekend with my girlfriend with plenty of lazy tv and filming. I returned to Vienna Monday. I got a taxi to Dublin airport and began my journey. Bratislava airport was buzzing with activity. I missed my bus. I bought a coffee and sandwich and pondered my options. I found another cheaper bus leaving for Vienna. The bus driver seemed a little confused when I explained my predicament his attitude changed abruptly when I waved the money in my hand.

It was close to 8 o'clock Austrian time when I got back to Vienna. I got a text from my friend Jon. We agreed to meet for grub. Jeanine got in touch in the meantime and agreed to come along. We went to Kolar and just by chance bumped into other friends. After we moved on, our little entourage split, some went for karaoke others for coffee. We met Dietlinde and her dancing friend on Stephansplatz and suss out an open cafe. We found one near Graben the establishment's name now eludes me. We had some caffeinated beverages and Mozartkuche, topped with chats and discussions. We parted ways and agreed to rendezvous later in the week. Thursday was the Feast of the Assumption so we had a shorter school week than normal. However, the next day, Tuesday, was business as usual.

 Kirsten and I had talked about the abundance of cultural opportunities in Vienna. We both agreed at last that when in Vienna one ought to go to the opera. Some TAs had already gone to see 'La Bohéme'. Sadly several others had either seen this masterpiece or were otherwise engaged. We arrived and waited for the sought after stehplatz. €3 they cost. It was an amazing show. The opera was both atmospheric and haunting although it was a test of endurance to race between the action on stage and the translation drifting across the little monitor hanging from the railing beneath me. I was able to divide my attention adequately and learn the minimum amount of information to form a coherent story. We went to Flanagan's after and as the group refused to meet there we moved on to Beer and Songs and began our weekend of social escapedes.

Baby Blues

31/1/2012
Since I have gotten back I have been meaning to tidy my room.  I am not a neat freak but neither am I a slob or compulsive hoarder.  However, stuff just builds up and sometimes it is junk. 
I share a room with my older brother.  There are two beds, two wardrobes & a kind of mirrored dressing table drawer thing.
I tend to put most my books & dvds in boxes (those that do not fit on my shelf) & slide them under my bed.  It does not exactly provide easy access but it is a temporary solution for a long term problem.
Books, games and dvds have come to take up a substantial amount of space spreading from the mirrored chest of drawers to the wardrobe.
I had ignored the problem for quite some time but it was grinding me down.  In the end I resolved to tackle of rubbish and items I had deposited in the mirrored drawers. 
I found letters from 2006, bank statements from 2009.  I dug a little deeper and found copies of our school annual 'Venture'.  There were photographs from the Oxigen festival 2006, Vienna Sprachkurs 2007, trinkets from Australia 2008.  Postcards and mementos once lost, embued with immense sentimental value power reduced to clutter.  It was quite sad. 
I found letters from my University, my birth certificate, baptismal certificate & lo and behold two items of significant merit. 
There in the back right hand corner of the drawer I found a little record book, blue in colour detailing a list of vaccinations I had received and beside it, perhaps most poignant of all, lay a little transparent plastic bracelet that hospitals use to tag and identify babies.  It's miniscule petite appearance struct a chord.  How.humbling it was to hold this item in my hand, again.  It read :
Baby Carragher
27-11-1987
10:45am
Twenty four years later returned to its rightful owner.  I placed the collection of items in a single brown envelope.  Making things easier, simple even for any future identity thief.
It is a funny feeling to find yourself
reduced to paper and plastic I thought to myself as I burned past payslips and correspondence.