Tumbleweeds and Desert Nights: Arizona

Monday I  dumbstruckenly found myself on another airplane.

No friends, I didn't high tail it to the airport and catch the first flight back to Europe, though the thought did cross my mind. No, this time I was headed for somewhere closer to home and also alien. Arizona.

After returning home from the great Croatian adventure I was bombarded by a deluge of mixed emotions. I was so happy to see my family at the airport, eat a bowl of real Pho (first meal back in the States), and see a lot of my friends over the course of the next few days. But I was also so sad to leave the program, the people, the project, all of it. I had coffee with my roommate from Croatia as soon as she got back and the first thing I thought was "Oh my gosh it was real!" Seeing her meant it actually happened! That it wasn't just a beautiful dream. 

As for deciding to come to Arizona? Well the conversation went something like this:

*Ring!*

Me: hello?

Mom: Hi, do you want to go to Arizona?

Me: What? Why? When? 

Mom: Yes, Arizona, because there are some extremely cheap flights, and Christmas Eve.

Me: Ok.

And thus it went that after a few Christmas celebrations,(including a fabulous End of the World Party) I once again found myself in that terrifying aluminum tube sailing through the sky to a far away(ish) place. 

The part of Arizona I'm visiting is called San Tan Valley and it's environmentally the opposite of the Pacific Northwest. It is flat, deserty, and dusty. Saguaro cacti that yes, are that big and spiky dot the desert along with mid sized bushes that often wear thorns; and 10-15 foot trees with twisty wide spreading limbs and little leaves. Because the terrain is so flat all the roads are laid out in almost perfect grids with little to no variation in direction. This area isn't centered around a main street or even a main town, so everything is spread out and it takes a long time to drive anywhere, in a very straight line.

The spread out nature of things makes it very hard to wander without walking on a highway, so it was easy for me to feel penned into our little house.

But thankfully in the last few days I was lucky enough to discover and explore some of the most unique terrain I've ever hiked in. Most of the hiking I've done is in mountainous, temperate rain forests. This was extremely not that and I was happy to find that on a moderately long hike with very little elevation gain I was privy to wide, sweeping views, dramatic mountains and completely alien vegetation.

The San Tan Mountain Regional Park is happily located very close to where we are staying. All the trails are hike, bike and horse friendly with bikes yielding to hikers and everyone yielding to horses. I found the park by typing "hiking near Johnson Ranch" into Google, was directed to the park website and discovered that they organize short Ranger-lead hikes in the desert during the full moon, and the next one was on Friday!

As the sun set on Friday evening, I found myself walking into the park with- to my surprise about two hundred other hikers. The moonlight hikes are much more popular than I anticipated; people of all ages, from babes in arms to the elderly with fancily carved walking sticks gathered at the flag pole awaiting Ranger Adam to lead us into the night. While we waited I took in the scenery visible from the entrance area.

With the sunset dulling into a low pinkish glow behind the mountains, a huge yellow moon rose above the horizon to the east. It lit the landscape before me so brightly that the high ridges in the distance had shadows cast behind them.

At seven o clock on the nose Ranger Adam, a tall, very young guy who looks exactly like a friend of my brothers' I had a huge crush on as a teenager came out and addressed the crowd. He went over a few basic safety points including that he had brought along a parks volunteer named Emily to feed to the Sasquatch if we should happen across him. He assured us that because of the cold temperature there was no way we would run into any rattlesnakes or scorpions unless we went looking for them. That brings me to the temperature, it was a solid fifty degrees out, about as cold as it gets in Arizona with a few freak freezing nights here and there. Surrounding me were people bundled up like they were about to go snowboarding; in sweaters, scarves, heavy jackets, knit hats, mittens and I swear snow boots looking at me like a crazy person in a hoodie and jeans. I admit, their puzzled looks did kind of make me feel like a BAMF, but on the flip side, when the temperature gets over 85 in June I'll be running for the ice bath.

After the little talk, Ranger Adam/ dreamy boy lookalike started off up the trail and all 200 of us followed him and the human sacrifice off into the desert.
The hike was beautiful with plants and hills drenched in moonlight casting long shadows. I caught myself reflexively looking away from it because of that little voice in my head saying "don't look at the sun, you'll go blind" was being activated by the brightness of the moon. The stars had begun to appear over the mountains and even with the moon high I could make out entire constellations hanging above the horizon.

The experience was lovely, it would have been magical, except for the fact that a couple hundred of us were thundering through the desert together and it was apparent that not all of them were as awed as I was. Especially a crowd of young, rowdy boys that kept tripping over/falling into cacti and yelping like coyotes for their moms. With all the people I couldn't really feel the desert over the burble of conversation, strobing of flashlights and stomping of many feet. So I decided to go back the next day.

The desert in the daylight feels very similar but looks very different. I wouldn't have recognized the trails I walked on the previous night at all in the light of day. Mostly because I could see so many more details in the sunlight.
It was finally an actually warm (by my standards) day, high sixties with a slight breeze and not an aggressive-looking cloud in the sky.

I wanted to be hiking for about 3-4 hours and one of the ladies at the park building gave me a map and highlighted a four and a half mile hike. I would start and end on the same loop I had done the day before but just take the next loop up in size around the first mountain into a valley then back to the start on the other side.

The first part of the hike was once again packed with people, a warmish sunny afternoon two days before the new year is valuable, even in a place where it is usually hot. Once I got onto the bigger loop though I was almost exclusively by myself, passing the occasional hiker and mountain biker along the way.

I loved the stillness of my surroundings; a soft breeze blew but with no quaking leaves or the kind of grass that rustles there was an overwhelming sense of quiet and calm. Most of the time the only sound was the wind in my ears and my steps crunching in the sand between two mountains. The horizon is cut jaggedly by the peaks, looking like the earth was accidentally thrust up into an unfinished but beautiful line.

 The saguaros are extremely dramatic, the largest I saw stood at about 18 feet and that was without leaving the trail. In a place so dry, they look fat and full of life. And speaking of water; even though the sand was dry, there is evidence of water everywhere, every low spot has a channel where a temporary stream had cut through to lower ground. Sometimes very dramatically where big chunks of ground were washed away.

Dry stone walls ftw!

I enjoyed the desert so much more once I was alone because once I wasn't surrounded by the distraction of other people it allowed me to take in my surroundings with all of my senses at once. I let imagination wander and inspiration come freely caused by everything from the sound of my steps to the vistas laid out lavishly before me. It feels like danger, adventure, and also stillness and balance all tied into one dramatic and vast landscape.

Full Circle: Zagreb and Homeward Bound

After two days of wandering and two nights of dancing in Split we were back on the bus, this time to Zagreb, the city where we started and the city where we'll wrap this up. Most of Friday was driving, Marco faithfully got us to Zagreb on time and we checked into our extremely fancy hotel.

le very fancy hotel

Zagreb is in full Christmas swing, and they do it bigger and better than anywhere I've been so far. The main square (where we met Ena and her friends for ice cream two months ago) is covered in twinkling lights with a huge Christmas tree and a stage set up where there are performances every night from choirs to dancing groups to musicians and bands have been playing. Several of the streets have been transformed into outdoor markets selling all kinds of fun wintery things, luckily for me things like gloves included because it is very cold here.

Winter arrived Friday night while we were walking in the market. The streets were alive with people, music and lights. From every corner we heard laughter and singing, various versions of familiar Christmas songs. Almost everyone on the streets held a steaming cup of something or a hot pastry from one of the stands. We shopped our way up and down the rows of vendors admiring all the interesting things laid out before us. I felt the change in the air and then it started snowing. It doesn't get any more ideal than that my friends.

And fall it did, all through the night and it didn't stop the next morning either, I heard that it was the most snow Zagreb has gotten in a single day in 57 years. By the time we were bundled and ready to go to out on Saturday there was at least a foot and a half of snow in some places. Snowplows of all sizes scurried through the city trying to make it possible to travel again.

My first order of business was to acquire boots. Having lovingly chucked my work boots at the end of the program I didn't have any practical weather shoes left so some friends and I shuffled and slipped through the snow and ice to the shopping district.

With that task finished we moved adventured through the icy city, popping into football shops and coffee shops. We visited the Cathedral along with all the other tourists in Zagreb for awhile before going to lunch.

Tesla under a snow blanket.

Srna and her friend also battled the elements to get to us from the other side of town. It took them almost four hours to reach the city center where we were. It was great to see them one last time before we left. Most of us found our way to a brewery/restaurant with the best beer I've had over here and the rudest service. We all went out to a pub afterwards but I had gotten the plague- the newest cold going around our group and was feeling pretty terrible by the end of the day. At the pub I said goodbye to Srna and Sean who left early the next morning.

The last couple of days in Zagreb were emotional and difficult. The next morning I said goodbye to the people from Florida, then a large group of us from Seattle, the next morning and afternoon even more people from Seattle. By Monday night there were only three of us left and I was an emotional wreck. 

And it's not like I'll never see the Seattlites again. They'll all be back in studio in a few weeks. But it won't be the same.

Tuesday morning at 4:30 my taxi arrived at the hotel. On the drive to the airport I got my last good look at Zagreb lit up by Christmas lights and committed the image to memory. It will be awhile until I get to see it again. So somewhat tearfully, I got on my plane, sat in my seat and watched Zagreb, Croatia and eventually Europe fall away behind me. Homeward bound.

----

This experience has been one of the best of my life. It started out on a little bit of shaky ground not knowing exactly where we would be or all the rules of the project having it get set up so quickly. But those unknown elements just added to the adventure of it. I've never worked harder or been more focused on any project. To wake up and have the whole day be about one thing without getting bored or manic is pretty amazing.

I grew emotionally, physically and academically every day. All that schlepping and shoveling did make me stronger, more patient and understanding that just because a job isn't glamorous, doesn't mean it isn't vitally important to the cause. I learned how to work in a group when not just working, but living with them as well. Also, how to keep entertained on a tiny island in the off season is a skill not to be overlooked. It's impossible to count all the lessons I learned, they would be several of their own blog posts. 

So where the heck is Caitlin now? Back in a rainy city in the heart of the Pacific Northwest. 

To be honest I still have mixed emotions about coming home. There is no question of how happy I am to see everyone I love here and how nice it is to see the mountains thick with lush forests of home. But this experience was so wonderful I can barely put it into words, (though I have tried, obviously). 

I'm going to enjoy being home for awhile, but one thing I know for sure that I've been bitten by the travel bug. I've got to get back out there again, and I don't know if it will be Europe, Africa, Asia or a tiny little island no one has ever heard of again. But keep an eye out for me, who knows when I'll be coming your way.

-Caitlin

The Dedication, Sibenik & Split

Tuesday was the big day, the dedication of the site. Vesna had meetings with us through the weekend and on Monday to get everything arranged for the event, making sure the site was ready, determining the content of the dedication and arranging a performance. A week or so before, Vesna talked to Winterbottom about the dedication and he volunteered a couple people to perform, myself among them. So the morning of the dedication everyone else leisurely went down at 10:15 while I scrambled running into Kampor and back at the last minute to get things for my outfit.

There was a presentation in the administration building by Vesna and a powerpoint narrated by Winterbottom that made us tear up. It covered the whole process from site analysis to future projections of what the plants will look like. Then the whole audience, over 50 people, including press got up and moved down to the site. We stood on the road looking into the garden while a two minute performance to soft relaxing music happened with performers showing the potential uses for the site like reading, playing music, gardening, physical therapy, exercise, talking etc. It was intended to show the audience how the garden will be used by not just the patients but the staff and visitors as well.

As their soft music came to a close I situated myself near the entrance at the front of the crowd and got ready. A moment later a loud reggaeton beat came over the speakers set up in the shelter. Carl moved down into the plaza and did a back flip out of Biruk's hands; the audience on the street started to cheer and on my cue I Cha-Cha'd my way out into the site by the entrance to the boardwalk. The rest of the performance is a blur, I know Carl and I met at the center of the boardwalk, jumped down into the plaza and danced very fast to the very energetic, fun song. Vesna wanted people to understand that the site is multi-versatile, and because dance is therapeutic and exciting she wanted it as an exclamation point at the end of the dedication.

After the bow at the end much of the audience came down into the plaza and learned two salsa steps from Carl then everyone danced in the plaza. All of us students, a lot of the staff, even some patients came down to dance. Then, because it's Croatia and I don't understand a lot of it St. Nicholas came out and gave everyone candy and sticks spray painted gold with ribbons attached. I moved through hugging everyone, Vesna, our volunteers, even the kitchen and laundry staff came out to see what was going on and I hugged them goodbye too.

After the dedication a few of us took one last walk through the site. Seeing it completely finished, shiny and new is surreal. Now we have to hand it over to the users, the people that will love it, hate it, maintain it and vandalize it. I wish we could have stayed just a few days longer to see how it's used; but such is life. The project is finished, our job is done and it's time to move on.
--

The next morning we met Marco in the driveway with all of our bags in tow. I think my red backpack developed an attitude problem being used as a dirty clothes hamper for two and a half months, if possible it has become more cumbersome and definitely more heavy even without my work boots and several articles of clothing I'm leaving here. It grumbled and groaned but I eventually got everything into it and it into the van.
Then we drove away, and left our island, the hospital, the project and everyone we've met, off to continue the adventure together for the time being.

Having stayed out very late the night before I slept almost the entire way to Split, which is on the coast, further south than Zadar. On the way we stopped in Sibenik, an old city on a steep hill that has spectacular, steep, mysterious stairways.

 I immediately took off up one of the small twisty ones between two rows of houses, then another and another and another until I reached the gates of the cemetery at the top of the hill (somehow I always end up in graveyards). The cemetery butts up against St. Michele's castle on the very apex of the hill but the road from the city was closed and gated. Over the castle wall I could hear heavy machinery breaking rocks apart. No matter, I hopped the wall and lowered myself down the six or so feet to the path below.

The castle from what I can tell is just the outside wall right now, piles and piles of stones are within it where the construction was happening. I made sure the construction guys saw me before I walked to a part they weren't working on, where the road continued on the outside wall. The view from the castle was spectacular and definitely worth some mild trespassing. From up there I could see all along the coast in either direction, the entire city, new and old town rolling over the hilly landscape. In the bright afternoon sun it looked like a perfect depiction of paradise.

---

Another few sleepy hours in the van and we arrived in Split. A biggish city centered around a walled city center complex, Diocletian's Palace.

 At first glance old town Split feels a lot like Venice minus the canals. They used the same kind of stone, the buildings create narrow alleys with the same verticality, and there are small plazas everywhere that have strings of lights across for Christmas.

 All of old town slopes gently down to the water where there was recently a giant renovation project that made the waterfront very comfortable and walkable. There are vendors all along the water selling candy, Christmas decorations, coffee, beer and mulled wine.

Split also for some reason has many many shoe stores and book stores. I had to put on the blinders to keep from going into bookstores because I cannot be trusted in them and my luggage is already over packed.

Winterbottom arranged one last field trip for us out of Split, on Saturday we met Marco at one and drove about fifteen minutes outside of the city to Salona, an awesome Roman ruin, complete with a coliseum.

Split was relaxing, we took it easy, wandered the streets, ate delicious food, drank delicious wine and spent time enjoying each other's company. Our second and final night in Split we were all at the waterfront at one of the shack/bars when Winterbottom told us goodbye. He had to leave the program a few days early and fly to China for another project. I'll see him again in Seattle, but watching him walk away marked the beginning of the end of us as a group, and I think it struck a chord with everyone.

A Giant Storm and Pre-Mature Nostalgia: Last Week in Rab

Everything was coming to a close with the site, the plants are in, the structures are completely done. We were planning on being finished last Wednesday, the water feature got painted, tested and it works!

A few minor adjustments here and there, but it works, and works beautifully. We somehow have been very lucky with the weather so far, the days have been sunny, and if not really warm, not very cold either. Great for doing construction and getting projects done quickly. By the time we were finished last Wednesday the plan was only to work a half day Thursday to get some of the final cleanup and details done.

Thursday, however, had different plans for us. 

We woke up to rain. Hard rain, and wind as well. Tentatively I dressed in rain gear and headed down with everyone while we started the last projects, cleaned up and moved trash off the site and out of our shop/garage. As the morning went on the rain didn't let up though, lightning and thunder rolled in and parked on top of the island, splitting the sky with light and sound every ten minutes.

By late morning torrential, apocalyptic and dangerous rain started. I've never seen rain and hail like that before. Within minutes the road and gutters were like rivers dumping water into a completely overrun drain at the bottom of the hill. On the site water pooled in the plaza immediately and dirt from the planting beds washed down into the gravel pathways. We took shelter in the garage and under the covered structure and soon the staff called it a day. It would have been dangerous and stupid to attempt to keep working in weather like that.

Through the day the storm never really went away, the rain would let up from time to time but lighting and thunder continued into the night. That evening the power was knocked out at the apartments, and as the official representative of the boonies in the program I went around to each apartment leaving candles and warning about the "1 flush rule". 

The walk down to dinner in the hospital was memorable and terrifying. Straight out of Shutter Island at this point walking between the dark buildings to the dining hall. 

"If lightning lights up figures wandering slowly toward us, I'm turning tail and running" one guy said. 

"I'll be right there with you." I agreed. 

Friday morning I was afraid to go to the site, the damage could have been really bad, and I didn't want to spend the weekend fixing it. Luckily there wasn't much damage, some washout from the planting beds and there was a large puddle at the front of the water feature that we would have to dig a trench and lay a new drainage pipe to fix. Digging the trench stabbed a my heart a little, the area was finished and seeing it completed and checked off the list then ripping it up hurts. Physically hurts. I've had to do it only a few times, but each time a little bit of your soul dies. I pulled out the plants we had put in the day before, under a few inches of water and moved them to higher ground, then we dug out a trench that will house the piping along the side of the water feature and under the boardwalk to the perf pipe on the other side that leads to the main drain.

 Other than that everything seemed to be fine, our structures handled the wind, the water feature was full to the brim with rain that will have to be taken out so the mosaic can be cleaned and a couple other little things like that.

---

Most people went away for the weekend, but I wanted to stay and say goodbye to the island. On the free days I hiked a little to a part I'd never been, went back to my favorite coffee shops, and read in the sunshine in Rab for a short time. The island has become home, a temporary home for sure. But home none the less. Preparing emotionally to leave it and probably never come back isn't easy. Rab has a very unique culture to it, one I don't always understand, but it is charming.

I have met some wonderful people here on Rab, not to mention falling in love with the participants in the program. It's hard to think how unlikely it is that we will ever be in the same room again. Never again will I wake up and say good morning to my roommate, or ride into town in Luka's gigantic lime green van aka " The Candy Machine," or walk down to the dining hall arm in arm with Theresa, Patrick, Mark, or Sean.

Right now, everyone is coming up to get their clothes that we just wheeled back up from the laundry room, sorted and organized. The girls usually pick through the clothes first, generally there is an exclamation or two of: "I can't find my leggings!"
I hear Winterbottom coming up the stairwell making Luka and Carl laugh along behind him, figuring out plans for our final goodbye dinner. Even though it's just the workings of laundry day, it makes me sad to think that it will never happen again. I'd better enjoy it while I've got it.

I wonder if it's because back at home in 'real life' big changes like this happen more gradually when they are less formalized. Here, there is a tangible day when it will all be over. This great experiment will be done and I'll only have memories and pictures and a completed park half a world away to prove that it happened.

Every moment is precious.

Especially this one.

The Beginning of the End: Last Construction

Here we are at week 8...*le sigh*


Tuesday was my birthday and along with a wonderful googley-eye-glasses wake up from my roommate, my fellows planned an executed a surprise party for me at the Lavender Palace, complete with toilette paper streamers, balloons and impromptu dance lessons. I felt very celebrated cared for. Also last week was Thanksgiving and we asked the kitchen staff if they could cook us a turkey, then we each made our own dishes and brought them down to the dining hall for dinner. We had almost all the students, faculty, and even our favorite volunteer from the job site come to the meal. There was lots of hugging, laughing and thankfulness. With dessert (and my specialty chocolate banana cream pie), mulled wine and eggnog.
All in all it was a warm and fuzzy kind of week.


I'm sorry my friends at home, I love you, but I really don't want to leave. The project is coming together, it's at a point of completion where I want to hang out in it all the time (and so do the patients). The paving is finished, the stone walls have been finished for quite awhile now. We just put the mosaic in the water feature (and I put in an octopus, yay!)

 the dirt for the planting beds arrived and we planted the two main beds today, right now the big project is helping weld the metal pieces for the structure and putting up the columns, beams, rafters etc.

I'm enjoying watching the last major features on the site get finished, the structure and the water feature. The structure is two structures, a smaller, completely covered one on the middle level of the seating area and a very very large arbor on the upper seating area that covers the entire upper paved area. We treated all the wood with preservative this week in preparation for putting it up this weekend.

That's me with a drill - be proud Mom!

We poured the concrete footings for the structures a million years ago. Since we poured them a lot about the structures has changed because of materials, budget, comments from a structural engineer, Vesna and various other reason. But since we have these footings already we had to make them work and found a way, sometimes designing as we went. The columns were put up a few days ago, set into the post anchors (the metal cradles stuck in the concrete) made level and held in with support boards until they were bolted into place. Then with the help of ladders and scaffolding and a few strong people we put up the 6"x6" beams and sandwich beams and bolted them to the columns, then put the thinner rafters on in the other direction, then sheeting boards, then waterproofing fabric and metal sheeting.

Watching the process is really interesting. I saw four thick pieces of wood become the outline of a cube, then something more or less like a jungle gym, then obviously a structure, then a finished structure. All over the course of a couple days.

The structures look awesome, and with their profile on site it's beginning to look finished. We are still working hard but there are fewer jobs to do as one by one projects get completed. It's exciting, to watch it all come together, now just last details and cleanup type work is left (and making sure the water feature actually works. We'll see that one tomorrow.)

Next week we have the dedication, which will be some kind of ceremony involving some big-wigs from the hospital, a ribbon cutting, slide show, and maybe a performance in the site. After that we are off to Split and Zagreb for the final leg of our journey.
In two weeks I'll be on a plane home.


Caitlin's Chocolate Banana Cream Pie:

You need:
A pie plate
Cinnamon Graham Crackers,
1 1/2 sticks butter,
chocolate bars/ baker's chocolate(but with lots of powdered sugar)
bananas,
vanilla pudding, (sugar, mix, milk)
1 cup heavy whipping cream,
A few handfuls of powdered sugar
a little vanilla

- Crush graham crackers in a bowl into crumbs, - melt down the butter and add to crumbs and mix until all are coated and sticky,
-Press the crumbs/butter into the pie dish making a thin layer on the bottom and up the sides to the edge -put in freezer
-Make the pudding as directed, or if you are even more awesome and have time, from scratch.  - set aside to firm up a bit.
-Melt the chocolate with a little bit of cream and spread it onto the now firm crust
-Slice a banana and set the pieces into the chocolate
-Pour the pudding over the bananas and chocolate, smooth it out,
-Add powdered sugar, vanilla and cream and whip it! A lot! Until the "stiff peaks" form and you've got whipped cream but stop before you get butter.
-Scoop it out on top of the pudding, smooth it, make it pretty, clean the edges of the pie plate and let it set in the fridge for awhile before eating.
(you can also add more bananas to the top with drizzled chocolate on top)
-Eat your sweet banana deliciousness, sharing encouraged but not required ;)

The Feast for the Senses: Venice

Thursday night it was difficult to sleep.

It felt like Christmas Eve and all I could do was sit up and wait for Santa to arrive and deliver me an amazing gift. Venice.

I've never been, all I knew was what I had seen in romantic movies and read in historic novels. It is supposed to be one of the most amazing cities in Europe and the world. No streets but canals, pigeons, architecture, gelato, gondolas, singing men in striped shirts. I was ready for all of it.
But the week before departure I was a bit nervous about going because of news stories like this one. Venice was under water. A lot of water. The storms we had here in Rab were just as bad over there and people were swimming their way through San Marco's Square. I didn't care though. Venice was calling and come hell or (literally) high water I was going to go.

Friday morning I met the Catamaran along with a lot of people in the program. It was our first and only three day free weekend and everyone was taking as much advantage of it as possible A whole van full of people left Thursday night to go to Ljubljana (pronounced Loobliana) the capital of Slovenia, three on the Catamaran were renting a car and heading to Serejevo in Bosnia, an ambitious nine hour drive away.  Two were on their way to Trieste, just inside Italy.

Once in Rijeka I had some in-between travel time and spent an hour looking around downtown Rijeka, the outdoor market was on and bustling. Veggies and fruits, sweet and spicy smells, it was a very nice way to start the day.

My travel partner and I rented a car as the fastest way to get there and soon we were zooming through Croatia, then into the EU in Slovenia, and not long after that into Italy. The scenery was beautiful, Slovenia had more of my beloved forests and mountains but by the time we were into Italy it was mostly flat farm land outside of Venice.

The hotel was in Mestre, it was cheaper to stay, had free parking and is also less than a 15 minute train ride from Venice. My hotel room for some reason had four beds, two singles and two more singles pushed together to create a double bed. Besides the overkill on sleeping spaces the bathroom had a tub! A real, beautiful deep bathtub, already I was in love with Italy.

It was almost dark by the time we hopped onto a train to Venice; the cool afternoon turned into a clear cold night very quickly and when we came out of the train station Venice was lit up, sparkling, not under water, and ever so inviting.

We walked through the open square and across Grand Canal on the first bridge. And after that got immediately lost. Venice is all twisting tiny pedestrian streets, odd angles, courtyards, plazas and canals that force you to pick a direction. And that is awesome. Not so great if you are actually trying to get somewhere but for a night of truly wonderful wandering, Venice is the place to do it. Around every corner is some perfect new detail, a paving pattern, a tree, a set of windows or a color of yellow on a building you've never seen before. Every detail is thought out and elegantly put together. Even in parts where walls are crumbling into the canals they do it artistically. It seems like ugliness simply isn't allowed, someone could try to make a gross splatter on the wall and it would turn into the Mona Lisa. Even the graffiti was lovely.

We made it our goal to get to San Marco's Square, the biggest in Venice. It took a long time, a lot of walking, getting lost, going back a new way, getting lost there, stopping for pictures etc. Slowly we made our way in the general direction of the square and under one more lovely columned walk we emerged into San Marco's. 

By then it was after ten and there weren't very many people, but a few such as ourselves strolled through the square to the water, the basilica and back. We followed our ears to a very fancy cafe with a very fancy piano and violin duet playing very romantic songs and there we sat and drank very expensive hot chocolates that were very amazing. I sat in the cool night and warm light from lamps listening to a perfect rendition of "The Girl from Ipanema", from a violinist who was a performance all by himself. Drinking a steaming cup of what tasted like a melted chocolate bar with cream. Every sense was engaged and lulled by the best of everything all at once.

the 10 euro cocoa

That feeling only got stronger the next day. Venice feels different between in the light and dark. During the day it vibrates with energy and people. The details we discovered the night before on buildings as little secrets now became shining bold statements. With more people out the canals were alive with taxis, little personal boats and yes, gondolas ferrying people willing to pay the 50 euro fee around in style. 

By way of getting lost we found the more residential end of Venice. The place where I think people actually live. We watched a woman open the gates to her garden right on a canal and use a crank to back her boat from the garden into the canal, then lock the gates and drive away. Just like parallel parking a car - Venetian style. At that end it was less about grandeur, less over the top and more subtly amazing.

The day was spent wandering, ducking into cafes, snacking, drinking coffee, walking some more, sketching, eating more, walking more etc. In other words, exactly what I wanted to do.

I enjoyed the people watching in particular. There were of course, a ton of tourists, and a ton of people catering to tourists. But the interactions were bigger and louder and somehow much more fun than I'm used to. There was also a lot of PDA (public displays of affection) which I have never minded. I like being reminded that there are happy people in love all over the world.

I also very much enjoyed the mix of languages, everything from German, to Japanese, English, Dutch, Spanish and Italian in a variety of accents all mixed together in this throng of humanity moving through the city. Especially in places like San Marco's where huge numbers of people congregate (two wedding parties arrived while we were there) there is a low hum of all the conversation happening at once.

Towards the end of the afternoon we went to the Biennale Architecture Exhibition. A lot of countries from all over the world each choose an architecture group to build an exhibit based on a theme. This year the theme was "Common Ground" and the exhibits were really something to see. Some made complete sense and were full of very useful information, some were inspiring and moving, and others were just odd (ahem, Spain). 

Taiwan: cardboard and plastic.

My favorite was Finland, with a bunch of small, interactive simple pieces, that I of course forgot to take pictures of because I was enjoying them so much.

Russia's exhibit. Querty keys and Ipads.

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Venice is, among many other things, exhausting. Trying to fit everything into two days is impossible, unfortunately, but it's not like I didn't try. By the evening I was sore, tired and hungry for a big meal. As much as I wanted to stay in Venice until the very last second I had to rest and recoup for awhile. A nap for a few hours back in Mestre was just what was needed but upon awakening food was imperative. 

Everyone at the hotel told us to go to a nearby restaurant called  "Bepi." In the window there was a case full of fresh fish on ice and the dining room smelled like cooking fish. Upon sitting down a very big, loud man with a gigantic mustache came over, speaking first in Italian, then switching seamlessly to Spanish to talk to my friend. After their conversation he looked down at me over his reading glasses attached with a chain and said-

"And I'm guessing you would like English." In a mildly patronizing way. 

Yes. I, the white girl with the confused expression trying to translate as fast as possible, but really not following this interaction... would like English. He was teasing, and hilarious and once again fabulously over the top. He told us all about his travels in the Americas and the languages he speaks, how he learned them and why. Then told us roughly what food and wine we wanted and disappeared to the kitchen.

 The food he brought was spectacular. What I had come to expect from Italy. I was presented with a seafood pasta with perfect al dente noodles and fresh mussels, clams, squid and a few other delights and a smooth red wine. And when neither of us could possibly eat anymore he brought a huge platter at least two feet long with five different kinds of fish. I looked at it and almost cried I was so full and it looked so good.

 But slowly, to keep from exploding we ate pieces of the fresh fish grilled to perfection. The meal was long, and we didn't waste a minute. After a final coffee we strolled out at midnight.

The next day I reluctantly said goodbye to Italy. And we left in the morning in order to catch the Catamaran back to Rab in the afternoon. I didn't want to go, wasn't ready at all. I hadn't seen enough, heard enough, smelled, touched or tasted nearly enough of Italy to consider myself ready to leave. I loved how friendly the people were and wanted to get to know them.  I'm not done with Italy.

So where the heck is Caitlin now? Dreaming of gelato and coffee in a not so far away place, canals and bridges and San Marco's in the moonlight. Buonanotte, amico mio.

Disaster & Dancing: Osijek & Vukovar

Last weekend was our first completely free weekend without a scheduled field trip. I planned on going to Rijeka on the Catamaran like almost everyone else. But Friday afternoon the little bug I was fighting reared it's ugly head, and kept me pretty well bedridden until Tuesday morning. Most of that time I slept, one day sleeping almost 18 hours, but in between gigantic bouts of sleep I watched a documentary by the BBC about  the end of Yugoslavia and the war. Enough to learn at least the key players and more or less accurate timeline of events.

I'm glad I got to watch it because this weekend we went to Osijek and Vukovar. The site of the first massacre of the war. Preparing for this trip emotionally was complex; I was very excited to be done with construction for a few days, stay clean and dry for awhile, and see a lot more of the landscape. Vukovar is on the border between Serbia and Croatia and is completely across the country from us. But I knew that the weekend would be emotionally trying, not just learning about places where atrocities had been committed, but being there, standing on a spot where hundreds of people were shot in the head and pushed into a grave was going to be difficult.

The nine hour bus ride was very pleasant, we had our same favorite driver, Marco and he told us about places we were passing through on the way. Also, every gas station has a cafe/bar and grocery store attached, so we were able to get our coffee fixes.

In Osijek we were split between two apartment buildings a few blocks apart. My two roommates and I were in a very comfortable modern apartment with a big bathroom and by the grace of God an awesome shower. After quickly freshening up we walked to the other apartments and had a meeting with everyone before going our own ways in the city.

Osijek is a small city, but it's bigger than Rab, so to me it felt gigantic, having not been in a city since Zadar. It's very flat and when we were there very cold, I piled on all my layers and still bought a bigger fluffy scarf when I found one. It's still in the swing of fall, though most of the leaves are down in the streets. The architecture is varied gracefully for the most part, a mix of newer modern and Secessionist or Art Nouveau styles, the Secessionist buildings are spectacular. You can sit and stare at one for hours just taking in all of the details. They are brightly colored, so the street is like a rainbow when you look down, the facades have columns, statues, and a hundred other small pieces. The fences have very fine iron work in intricate patterns, flowers, plants, in some cases animals.

But among all these beautiful details there were holes and pock marks, splatters of missing mortar and broken bricks. There wasn't gunfire in Osijek, but the city was shelled from three sidea, so the holes we were seeing were from shrapnel mostly from grenades. Some of them the city is fixing, but a lot of them they are leaving as memorials to what happened. Ivan, our guide (who we met later, I'll get back to him) said that they want to honor the past but not live in it.

Friday night we met at a small restaurant in Old Town in the north end of the city. It took me awhile to realize that it was a family style place, they don't have menus. When we asked the waiter said "your meat will be ready in five minutes." And meaty it was. The meal was traditional, with a bland white macaroni-ish pasta with a cheesy sauce then a spicy beef stew on top.

Old town was a fortress built when Croatia was a part of the Austro-Hungarian empire, it used to hold soldiers and their horses, now most of the buildings are high schools with different focuses and tons of bars and nightclubs. After dinner a smaller group of us followed our ears to a place that was starting to play live music. To my surprise over the stage was a huge confederate flag with the face of I think the lead singer of Lynyrd Skynyrd on it with the words "If the south had won" something something, the bottom was hard to read. The band that played was a four piece band that played classic American rock songs. As usual, there was a big space in front of the stage with everyone staring at the band, I too stood wondering if people would dance until I heard the first chords of "Well Dressed Man" by ZZ Top and that was the end of that. I danced the first one by myself but got a Croatian girl out on the floor with me and we danced our way through Aerosmith, The Rolling Stones and Gold Earring.

As it started to get later more and more people appeared in the bar until the space behind the stage was packed with people. We left at about midnight and the main club street was beginning to come to life. On the way out of the bar a guy yelled to me "It's better to be quick, than dead!" then erupted into laughter. We went to a few other places and had a great time but in general a lot of the dancy places were pretty empty. Saturday, they said, come back on Saturday night, every bar will be packed. So we called it an early night and got home about 3:30.

A few hours later I was up at seven and out in the cold foggy morning in search of breakfast. The open market a few blocks away was similar to the one in Zagreb, but the vendors were a hundred times more friendly and didn't glare at me for only wanting four pears. They also have a pastry here that's made out of philo or something like it packed with spinach and cheese or sausage and it's amazing on a cold morning.

We met Ivan when we got on our bus to Vukovar, he's from Osijek and was 11 years old during the siege, he was able to give us an inside opinion of what happened during that time. We were on the road to Vukovar by 8:45 and drove through foggy fields for forty five minutes to the hospital.

The hospital stayed open through the whole siege, taking in soldiers from both sides as well as civillians. They moved to the basement immidiately after the fighting started, knowing that even though it was a medical building with a giant red cross on the roof it would be attacked. And it was, but no bombs from planes that fell into the hospital went off, the theory is that the pilots did it on purpose because ethically bombing a hospital is so monstrous. Either way, the hospital's symbol now is the red cross with large holes through it.

Ivan told us that one of those bombs that hit the building came through the roof and five floors before it stopped in the basement and practically landed between a patient's legs in a bed.

"Wasn't that patient a Serb soldier?" Someone in the group asked.
"He was a human being." Ivan replied without hesitating. "It doesn't matter what side he was on."

The hospital was a little difficult, but ok, we watched a short film with a few fairly graphic parts about the death and destruction they had to deal with. Then we went lower to the basement and all the rooms were set up the way they were during the siege. Intensive care in one room and the nursery in the next, a larger room with bunk beds and a few smaller service rooms and that was it, for over 400 people for three months.

When the siege was over and Vukovar was overtaken six busses with people from the hospital were taken out to a shed on a farm, held there for awhile, then moved to a mass grave, shot and buried. For absolutely no reason. I think the most disturbing part of this whole thing is the simple chaos of it all, Ivan said that the Serbs could have taken Vukovar in a few days if they had been better organized. As it was they bombed and murdered their way in for three months. Every side did horrible, horrible things for what I can tell very little payoff.

After the hospital we walked into Vukovar along the river, you can tell it was a beautiful place. And slowly it's being built back up but the spirit has been decimated. Many buildings are still in ruins and there are large blackened dead trees that must have been magnificent at one time. The town is very cute, the main street having colonnades on either side up the hill, but you can tell something is still very wrong. I don't know if Vukovar will ever be ok again. But it is for sure very sad, such a waste.

The town still has a segregated Serb and Croatian population, their kids don't go to the same schools, they don't go to the same bars or restaraunts, they will only support the businesses of people who are the same race as them. Ivan told us about some work he has done to try to bridge the gap, especially with the children. If they grow up never playing with or creating connections with people of the other nationality they are just going to hate each other forever. The kids are the ones who are the most nationalist because they don't have any relationships with the others. To many Croatians the Serbs are just these monsters on the other side of the fence and vice-versa. Even the teachers and parents are more tolerant because they lived through the war. Basically it all adds up to more violence when those kids grow up hating each other.

And the most ridiculous thing is that no one is "racially pure" every Croat has some Serb blood and every Serb has Croatian. Kids of mixed parents have to choose which one they are, then get bothered about it for the rest of their lives. It's ridiculous and awful. It's not like the other side is going to go away any time soon. But I can't imagine going about your day consciously or unconsciously avoiding people and wishing badly on them all day long.

Ivan said "If you have money it's easy to fix the buildings. It's much harder to fix the people." He is working on a project to open up a third mixed race school that is an option for parents who want their kids to be around both groups. It's had a hard time getting off the ground, and it will continue to do so, but it just got the ok from the new mayor.

After the city we went to the storage shed out on a nearby farm that was used as a concentration camp for the people from the hospital. Then we went to the mass grave where they were all buried. Now there are monuments in all of these places, and their memorial day is coming up soon so every place was covered in candles and pictures, rosaries and gigantic wreaths. All of these things left by people who had been hurt by this ridiculous war, all these mothers, fathers, widows, widowers, and children who had to go on without someone they loved. Why? There will never be a good enough reason.

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Saturday was intense emotionally and physically. After we returned from Vukovar, and Marco woke us all up - we went on a whirlwind tour of Osijek again from Ivan, from old town down the main street with the most Secessionist buildings to the main square, through the cathedral (my favorite part) and back to old town along the river. By the end of the tour everyone was cold, tired, starving, exhausted and very, very grumpy. A potentially explosive combination. Soon though we were back at the apartments, I got the blanket off my bed and laid on the couch for a long time, contemplating getting food but was finally warm and too tired to walk anywhere to feed myself.

Thankfully, one of us had the great idea to order Chinese delivery and awhile later with warm rice, soup, noodles and vegetables in our bellies the grumpiness melted away.

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After a power nap I got ready to leave as the others in my apartment were getting ready to go to bed. I did question the wisdom of staying up another whole night, bringing the three day sleep total to about six hours. But I knew I would have nine hours on the bus the next day to get some good sleeping in. All bundled up I met up with a friend and off we went to meet everyone else in old town for another night of dancing.

The bartenders the night before hadn't lied. Saturday night was hopping, every bar and club was packed with people to the point that some of them weren't fun because we couldn't move at all. The first place we went to was full of extremely well dressed people, it was a cool place but no one was dancing and the music was really repetitive. So we went back to Big Ben, the bar the band had been playing at the night before and who should we run into but Ivan. He told us that Big Ben was more of the local place, and the place we had been at before was a Serbian club.
Even though the tension and segregation had been pounded into my head all day I hadn't thought about the possibility of the clubs being segregated too. Ivan said that they played a style of music that was all Serb folk songs with techno beats put over, that's how everyone knew all the words.
Then once I was made aware of it I noticed it everywhere; when we asked different people which clubs we should go to some said to go to club a, b, and c because they were SO much better than x, y, z. While other people insisted the opposite based on who hangs out there. We had a fun night but that tension vibrates beneath every interaction that happens here. It's really too bad, people just can't go out and dance and have fun, they very specifically are and are not welcome at certain places based on their nationality.

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So where the heck is Caitlin now? Back in Kampor, tucked into bed after a lot of shoveling.  Last night the rain woke me up it was so loud on the skylight I thought it would break. The weather does not mess around here.