last longing days... to look forward or back?
final whirlwind vacation to vienna: kristkindlmarkt, snow. now i am here here here and the library will house me until these essays papers applications writings are complete (they will never be completed never complete never...)
who knew that actually EU-accession talks does not correlate to increased foreign direct investment? i surely didn't when i picked it as my thesis for a final paper. now i am without evidence and without room to move...
what really is my insight and motivation for journalism school? anything i put down to paper seems trite or quixotic... and, really, i have little desire to write the way they want me to. eh?
who (in 800 words or less) am i, that i should contribute to the diversity and purpose of [insert university here]? why modestly am i the perfect candidate for this or that program?
the problems here lie within: these are all just means to the ends... i write because i travel, because there i can breathe. i go through school because it allows me to move... anything else admissions officers would like to know? i don't really believe in communism. i in fact eat meat. i buy altogether too many pairs of shoes. corporations are not the world's greatest evil. the masses may well be. i recognize i am too young to already have lost my idealism, yet hungary sucks the smiles out of people and it's taken something too from me.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Friday, November 18, 2005
Prague Moment
we are, arm-in arm, linked down these pragian streets sometimes singing eyeing the store windows eternal lookout for the best pastries, a boulangerie, to steal a moment or so in the sweetness of that and sugar and over which the laughter carries swiftly through... you are by best friend and my found-for-a-moment treasure of abroad so let's keep this this walk along this this utca and recall in years to come that was only just this.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Saturday, November 12, 2005
praha
are these places more the first time one sees them?
i remember the snowflakes were wet and
yes, that firstfall feeling of
(my goodness)winter is here.
do you, too, relive that czech
snowfight sliding, alcohol-
warmed, through the pragian streets,
gliding over the cobblestone, flirting with life,
smiling over charles bridge and again a cellar-dinner basement: you, me, and knowing these moments will soon become black-and-white,
a crisp night seeps into another crisp night and all too suddenly we were jolted back home:
(stop)
the flight
(stop)
across the world i have laid out my sepia photographs of this city with y'all: the band on the bridge, the water, the fall. these memoirs linger somewhere between (re)memory and (re)living, there absolutely was no grander quixoticity with you than
that Prague,
those ungoodbyes,
that december.
i remember the snowflakes were wet and
yes, that firstfall feeling of
(my goodness)winter is here.
do you, too, relive that czech
snowfight sliding, alcohol-
warmed, through the pragian streets,
gliding over the cobblestone, flirting with life,
smiling over charles bridge and again a cellar-dinner basement: you, me, and knowing these moments will soon become black-and-white,
a crisp night seeps into another crisp night and all too suddenly we were jolted back home:
(stop)
the flight
(stop)
across the world i have laid out my sepia photographs of this city with y'all: the band on the bridge, the water, the fall. these memoirs linger somewhere between (re)memory and (re)living, there absolutely was no grander quixoticity with you than
that Prague,
those ungoodbyes,
that december.
Friday, November 11, 2005
train north from budapest
the mist envelops these lands, lingers by the Duna, seeps into the terra. there is no escape, there is only the peace it emits. there-- it was a castle on a hill. Visegradi? the train verges away from the river. in these small stopping places i long to find a spot. reclusive. like my bike-riding into the countryside at home-- these country spaces feel familiar. longed for.
Friday, November 04, 2005
Inács
will these train rides never end. friday evening through a dark night-- the mist from the morning has long since lifted, fallen, lifted, returned. another small hungarian village my feet will never again feel... we came today to study the Roma, our closest exhibition, though, was a family of eleven on the outskirts of town-- children running all over, chickens, donkeys chased by brooms, and radio wars.
we are standing on the dike, peach orchards to our backs. the river, last year, flooded the fields up to here, and this was very hard for the people. there, too, is a one-room house-- kitchen being the room. it is 'subsidized' housing, but the Roma family currently living there does not pay, he told us. the window on the second floor attic is gone. there are no amenities. they have built a hut outside, for bathroom purposes. the village too provided the blue pump.
but this village is unique in the area-- only about 20% of its inhabitants are Roma. they no longer speak Romani. the surrounding cities are around 50%.
'we do not segregate classrooms,' says the principal. 'others do-- not here. we believe in equal treatment.' students are bussed in from the surrounding villages-- though there their minority population is significantly higher, the ration of Roma students reflects only this city's statistics. somewhere in the kilometers between, children are lost.
we are greeted by the major-- elected rep-- and the chief administrative officer-- appointed. the mayor, Palo, an incredible activist, personable Roma. the administrative officer, a businesslike woman, forced to make tough decisions of a small, poor, aging community.
there is no business here. i ask, 'was the employment better under communism?' they laugh-- of course one-hundred percent employment is much better than the pitifully low numbers today. yes, but today there are three minority representative groups-- the Roma, the Slovaks, the Germans. and the Hungarian government who sends them just below what they need to break even. and the EU, who bestows endless amounts of hope for grants, programs, and development in the form of endless paperwork and logistics-- to a community that very nearly lost is post office this year.
yes, the communist farm produced food, livestock, machinery knowledge. then, the Gypsy ghetto made troughs. today machines cannot fit on the parceled-out strips of land privately owned. there is no opportunity for mass farming. today, the minority government donates euro 15,000 to the orchard, the profits of which go straight back to the poorest families.
'are there plans for attracting businesses?' she hesitates-- we could offer tax breaks, she offers. 'land is cheap. there are many open homes that could be converted into offices...' and trails off. 'perhaps the highway will help.' the highway to Miskolc was completed last year-- it lies some 40 kilometers away, and i'm not sure there are plans to connect it here.
there really are no easy answers here. social politics has turned to the brevity of the free market and locals make do with what they have. unfortunately, the tools they have are not much. do cities start like nation-states? natural resources the first to go, unskilled exploitation, stagnation, attempting to educate, skill, move up... there is a gap but the question is when, how to jump it.
we are standing on the dike, peach orchards to our backs. the river, last year, flooded the fields up to here, and this was very hard for the people. there, too, is a one-room house-- kitchen being the room. it is 'subsidized' housing, but the Roma family currently living there does not pay, he told us. the window on the second floor attic is gone. there are no amenities. they have built a hut outside, for bathroom purposes. the village too provided the blue pump.
but this village is unique in the area-- only about 20% of its inhabitants are Roma. they no longer speak Romani. the surrounding cities are around 50%.
'we do not segregate classrooms,' says the principal. 'others do-- not here. we believe in equal treatment.' students are bussed in from the surrounding villages-- though there their minority population is significantly higher, the ration of Roma students reflects only this city's statistics. somewhere in the kilometers between, children are lost.
we are greeted by the major-- elected rep-- and the chief administrative officer-- appointed. the mayor, Palo, an incredible activist, personable Roma. the administrative officer, a businesslike woman, forced to make tough decisions of a small, poor, aging community.
there is no business here. i ask, 'was the employment better under communism?' they laugh-- of course one-hundred percent employment is much better than the pitifully low numbers today. yes, but today there are three minority representative groups-- the Roma, the Slovaks, the Germans. and the Hungarian government who sends them just below what they need to break even. and the EU, who bestows endless amounts of hope for grants, programs, and development in the form of endless paperwork and logistics-- to a community that very nearly lost is post office this year.
yes, the communist farm produced food, livestock, machinery knowledge. then, the Gypsy ghetto made troughs. today machines cannot fit on the parceled-out strips of land privately owned. there is no opportunity for mass farming. today, the minority government donates euro 15,000 to the orchard, the profits of which go straight back to the poorest families.
'are there plans for attracting businesses?' she hesitates-- we could offer tax breaks, she offers. 'land is cheap. there are many open homes that could be converted into offices...' and trails off. 'perhaps the highway will help.' the highway to Miskolc was completed last year-- it lies some 40 kilometers away, and i'm not sure there are plans to connect it here.
there really are no easy answers here. social politics has turned to the brevity of the free market and locals make do with what they have. unfortunately, the tools they have are not much. do cities start like nation-states? natural resources the first to go, unskilled exploitation, stagnation, attempting to educate, skill, move up... there is a gap but the question is when, how to jump it.
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