'Tortilla - shaped'

Previously, in theredstringofate: A tribute to those people who open their heart to aves de paso, those of us who show up and stay just for a short period of time.

Si quisiera regresar, ya no sabría hacia donde [...]

Hay gente que es de un lugar, no es mi caso. Yo estoy aquí de paso.

If I wished to come back, I wouldn't know where to.

Some people come from somewhere else. This is not my case. I am only passing through.

Jorge Drexler, Tres mil millones de latidos

I was myself the least Spanish person you could have ever met. Any of my Spanish friends can tell. Some people would even be frustrated and ask me why I don’t like my country or why I don’t like Spanish people. I am sorry I gave them the wrong impression. Nevertheless, I don’t think you have to love absolutely everything about your country to feel a part of it. You don’t have to be raised in a very “nationalist” manner to feel your roots while being away, neither. It just happens. At some point in your life, for unknown reasons, you start accepting the place where you come from – negative and positive aspects (just as your relationship with your parents may change through time). You start being aware of who you are, and what is what makes you Canadian or Senegalese.

There are different views. S told us that it all started when she left France. A told me she never felt it at all, and she has lived abroad for years. L told me she had never danced any flamenco until she tried it for the first time in Ireland, and she loved it. H told me she couldn’t understand what was wrong with Japanese and their phones when she went back home for holidays. E said he doesn’t feel English, but he had a very close connection to every country he has lived in. T told me it is not about the country, but about being surrounded  by the right people. K was so desperate to be a part of the American society, that he hardly did anything together with the international students. M sold everything he had to leave his country – it would be a shame for him to return, even if he wants to.

N and I think we have a responsibility towards our country.

I am aware of the fact that there is nothing for me back home at the moment. However, the thought makes me feel guilty because, what if every unemployed-25-year-old Spanish took the same position? (40%) What if all of us flee the country? I hate to witness this youth disenchantment, but I understand some situations are just unbearable. Still, I want to draw attention to this.

Every person should travel and live abroad, and if things work out – why not, stay abroad.  However, one should never forget where he comes from. Young people are the driving force for change. If they don’t think of their country, who will? At the end of the day, when we finally realize we miss our place and we want to come back, we might be surprised of what is left. Then, we might blame politicians or we might blame the crisis or global conspiracy: the truth is we were not there. Or even worse, we couldn’t be bothered to even think about it.

I have to say I am not coming back yet, though.

But I have to admit, my heart is a bit tortilla-shaped J

Plato volteador de tortilla

Homenaje

En entradas anteriores de theredstringofate: de lo difícil que es comenzar continuamente desde cero, convivir con personas diferentes y aprender a ser flexible, de lo simple que es el trabajo de los becarios (pero al mismo tiempo esencial para el avance de esta nuestra humanidad), de lo satisfecho que te puedes llegar a sentir tras apuntarte un pequeño logro en un entorno nuevo. Ah, y de mi romance con la fotocopiadora de la oficina, que desgraciadamente solo habla alemán – y por lo pronto el alemán lo llevo igual de bien que la escalada, para que os hagáis una idea.

La entrada de hoy es un homenaje a todos los que le abren su corazón a una persona de paso.

Estas personas tienen su vida hecha, su familia, amigos, rutina, todo en orden. Y aún así, se permiten arriesgar su estabilidad emocional por nosotros, personajes de paso, cuyo nombre y nacionalidad cambia cada 3, 6 meses o cada año, a sabiendas de que nos marcharemos y arriesgándose a que dejemos un vacío (aunque sea pequeñito). He tenido la buena suerte de encontrarme con varios de estos “givers”, y espero que todo el mundo tenga la oportunidad de encontrarse con al menos uno de estos individuos una vez en su vida.Yo no sé si sería capaz de hacerlo… ¿No intentaría distanciarme? ¿No sería reticente a involucrarme?

No sé si son conscientes de la importancia de sus acciones; de que sin ellos, estos lugares inexplorados podrían convertirse en un entorno hostil. En cualquier caso, espero que sepan que les estaremos siempre agradecidos.  

Get yourself a copy machine

Previously, in theredstringofate: The start at the office, the Council of Europe and its inspirational ideals, the traditional Austrian outfit and how I can't stop singing Sound of Music's soundtrack every time I see them.

It has been 2 weeks. 

As days go by, I realize how hard it is to start from the scratch on and on again, even though the first days in a new country are always extremely exciting. Soon, little problems start showing up and it is then when you realize pasta and sandwiches can’t be the core of your diet everyday and you can’t go out 4 days out of 7 either. However, it is only when you start recognizing faces in the bars when you notice that it might be too much. 

Besides, who can afford a completely improvised an unplanned life? That only happens in Hollywood movies and tv series where 21-year-old guys live by themselves in a house by the beach. After two weeks abroad, you remember work is work and people are people no matter where you are: you have changed country but you are still in the same planet. Your ERASMUS days are over, baby. Welcome to reality!

You also have to deal with new and different people, you have to learn how to be flexible and how to put yourself in other people’s shoes (even when you don’t even like their shoes or they don’t fit at all). And you need to do it for the sake of pluriculturalism and peaceful coexistence – for the sake of the flag hanging out of my office’s window (those who know me best know I have a weakness for this one).

That is what I think every day when I sit in front of my computer. So far, work is quiet and I am doing little things, ABER… (means but in German, see how fast I improve), they are “somebody-has-to-do-it” type of things. If it wasn’t for trainees introducing information in data bases and updating files…I mean, come on, we would all be dead. 

*At this point I might as well take the opportunity to thank the kind cleaner who dares to clean our kitchen at the residence twice a week. If it wasn’t for her, we would also be dead.

When you start from the scratch, everything is complicated and requires additional mental effort. Going shopping can be a real torture if it is not well planned (apart from the fact that you might not have a clue of what you're buying). For instance, you go to the supermarket for the basics and come back home with a Tefal pan and ice cream, and also with some spice you thought could be nice for your soup but in fact has nothing to do with what you had in mind.

However, I have to say the most stupid achievement can also make your day. Last week I concluded I was in love with the copy machine. I am SURE it can make paella if I learn how to use it. Not only does it print, but it scans, it staples, it organizes your copies in whichever way you prefer… The only issue is that it speaks in German and I only understand “doppel”… I don’t know what to do when I want a single side copy.  ABER… I start my Deutsch Kurse tomorrow, and my copy machine and I have high hopes in it. Also, my copy machine and I speak the language of love: 

http://berlin.cafebabel.com/en/post/2008/05/26/The-Language-of-Love

I am also starting my Climbing Kurse on Wednesday. Wish me good luck J

I wish you all a good night and nice Apfelstrudels!!

Ni dinero ni armas, pero sí muchos principios

En entradas anteriores de theredstringofate: Cómo el viajar solos puede llevarnos a la paranoia y cómo jamás estaremos totalmente preparados para pasar el control de seguridad en el aeropuerto. De cómo perros y fumadores en Austria son bienvenidos en cualquier establecimiento público (sin ofensas por favor, ¡era la manera más corta de explicarlo!)

Ayer fue nuestro primer día en la oficina de ECML (European Centre for Modern Languages), que es una institución del Consejo de Europa. Creo que como amantes de las lenguas, nos va a encantar trabajar aquí. Por 1 euro (que no da pa’ más): ¿Qué es el Consejo de Europa? 

La verdad sea dicha, yo tenía “una o ninguna” idea del tema. El Consejo de Europa es un organismo independiente que tiene poco que ver con la Unión Europea (véase Wikipedia para versión extendida). Yo aquí os voy a dar la versión del jefe, que me gusta más: “El Consejo de Europa no tiene dinero ni armas, pero sí muchos principios”. Efectivamente era sólo el principio y con esa frase yo ya me quería hacer pipí de la emoción.

Así que en los años 70, un grupo de países del CE (casi suena a la intro del Equipo A) se reunió y llegó a la conclusión de que a través del aprendizaje y uso de las lenguas se podía fomentar el diálogo intercultural, la cohesión social y la ciudadanía democrática. En otras palabras…la comunicación está detrás de toda convivencia pacífica. Y con esto y un bizcocho, se resumen casi todos los principios de aquí la presente autora de este nuestro blog… 
¡AH! ¡QUÉ COINCIDENCIA TAN BELLA! (snif)


Así pues, se firmó un tratado que reflejaba este compromiso. Con el tiempo surgieron tres instituciones de este tratado, el ECML, the European Charter for Regional or Minority Languages y the Language Policy Division en Estrasburgo.  Tras esta breve pero necesaria introducción, se nos explicó que en el centro se trabaja por proyectos de 4 años y que nos encontrábamos en un momento clave, pues se cerraba el programa 2008-2011 y se presentaba el 2012-2015 – “Learning through languages”. Esto quiere decir que durante estos meses habrá más de 100 reuniones de expertos que tratarán los diferentes aspectos del tema, sacarán conclusiones y crearán materiales que serán distribuidos por toda Europa. Un gran desafío para todos y en especial para los que trabajamos en programas (qué decis, ¿se me caerá el pelo? ¿me quedaré afónica de por vida?).

Mi momento Al-bran llegó cuando supe que el Marco Común europeo de Referencia para las Lenguas (es decir, los niveles A1, A2, B1…con los que estamos todos más que familiarizados y algunos hasta un poco asqueados) fue creado por el centro en Estrasburgo…y que el caballero que teníamos delante, nuestro jefe, fue uno de los creadores del sistema. Palabras mayores.

Durante el almuerzo en un restaurante cercano a la oficina, tuvimos la oportunidad de conocer a los compañeros un poco más. El chico más joven de la plantilla se encarga de la web, y nos dio a entender las dificultades que a veces encontraba al intentar promover el centro a través de las redes sociales ya que existía una pequeña diferencia generacional que a veces se hacía notar. Como en casi toda reunión de personas desconocidas, hubo algún que otro silencio incómodo pero él siempre encontraba alguna pregunta ocurrente para romperlo.

“¿Tenéis alguna afición que os gustaría continuar en Graz?”. “Me gustaría escalar”, respondió una de las chicas. “Si necesitas una cuerda yo te la puedo prestar” dijo él. La imagen de las becarias pidiendo un trozo de cuerda y una silla para colgarse en la oficina dio para un buen rato de risas y comentarios. Suicidios a parte, la escalada es un reto que me llama la atención J

Algo que también me ha llamado la atención en Graz es la cantidad de escaparates que exponen trajes típicos austriacos. Tras el almuerzo una de nuestras compañeras nos llevó a hacer un pequeño recorrido por el centro de la ciudad y aproveché para preguntarle si los austriacos realmente se los ponían. Al parecer SÍ. Aparentemente, los jóvenes han decidido retomar los “Dirndl" (señora) y los “Tracht” (hombre) vestimentas típicamente alpinas y super fáciles de pronunciar, y combinarlos con sus ropas de diario como manera de reivindicar que no debería ser un distintivo exclusivamente conservador ni de derechas, sino que se trata de algo suyo y que como tal, todos tienen derecho a llevarlo como quieran y cuando quieran. Yo quiero que me mandéis ahora mismo un sombrero cordobés. He dicho.

Anoche, tras hablar con unos chicos del Tirol y confirmar que sabían cantar y que los tres tenían lederhosen (pantalones de cuero alpinos)…me dije a mí misma que daba por amortizado mi vuelo a Austria.

About suffering OCD and 4 other surprises

Previously on theredstringofate: The Asian legend of the red string of fate Haru told me and how happy we ought to be to have friends in different parts of the world. To know that even if we don’t see each other that much, we do feel they are there, we know they think about us and we can still rely on then. New Year’s resolution: a blog. New adventure: Austria.

Travelling alone can be exhausting; at least for someone who can easily spin a yarn (can’t help it). Travel with someone and you will be able to disconnect your thoughts now and then, to make banal comments about anything or even have deep conversations about real stuff if you feel like it… travel on your own and you will suffer OCD. No choice: your senses will be constantly on the alert, you'll over analyze everything, you’ll feel exhilarated or easily traumatized for the most irrelevant event, thousands of thoughts will tangle up in your head… this could seriously result in brain damage at the end of the day, I’m telling you!

Take for example the moment you realize how poorly you planned your trip at the security check. I had to take off belt, boots, and watch, put my phone and my mp3 player on the tray, my computer, the portable super multi drive (I had to look at it to be able to name it)… funny the look of the officer while holding it and asking me “what is this”. I felt SO last decade. I should have answered “Oh, this. This is just my wee bomb maker.”- and make my life a bit more interesting. I repeat the same routine every time I take a plane and I know that I will be going through security check… still I never seem to be prepared for it. At least, this time I did not have any holes on my socks (as usual).

What about standing in the boarding queue and realize you are surrounded with people speaking in a completely UNKNOWN language. “What is wrong with them? Why don’t they speak German? What does it say on their passport? Ugh… can’t see… Where’s the screen? Yes. It’s Graz, Graz in Austria, of course Hannah it’s Graz in Austria. But why are they all SLOVENIAN? OMG what if there is a different town called Graz… OMG where am I flying to? IT’S TOO LATE, IT’S TOO LATE IM GOING TO SLOVENIA AND IM GOING TO DIE ALONE!!!”

But in fact, I have nothing to complain about as my trip went smooth and I’m safe at what is going to be my new home! (in Austria). Today, luckily enough for my mental health, I met the other two trainees that I will be sharing this experience with and we spent the day buying the basics and talking about our lives.

Things that astonished me so far:

#4 Dogs are welcome in bars, pubs, restaurants.

#3 Smoking in public places is NOT forbidden.

#2 If Austrians were quieter in the tram, they would probably be dead.

#1 Those who know me know that sometimes, astonishing coincidences happen around me. Well read this: I happen to know only one Macedonian. Well, one of the trainees working with me happens to be Macedonian and happens to know that same person…

It’s a small world after all!