tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17888361331996108822024-03-13T21:41:03.081+09:00an unapologetic blogCaitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.comBlogger177125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-72034480152836966522010-06-22T00:45:00.003+09:002010-06-22T01:32:19.664+09:00I have met all the good people there are to meet.Five years ago I went to Alaska to work at a Girl Scout camp. At Girl Scout camp counselors give themselves names. I chose the name Tendu. And the best friend I made there chose the name Belly. Belly is from Melbourne, Australia. She has been traveling around the world doing student exchanges and taking occasional time off for the last year and a half or so. She left Montreal to go to Toronto and made it down to Pittsburgh to see me before she headed back up to New York to go home to Australia. <div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4721455694/" title="IMG_1803 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1404/4721455694_c477d82e1a.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="IMG_1803" /></a></span></div><br /><br />I greeted her at the Greyhound Bus station and she brought her inspirational energy into my and Jocelyn's home.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4689597269/" title="bangs by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1300/4689597269_43a872aa44.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="bangs" /></a><br /><br />Other people spent a long time in the kitchen and we ate delicious food outside.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4689598695/" title="me, jon, brad by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4044/4689598695_dab4e1d687.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="me, jon, brad" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4689599587/" title="eatin' by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4047/4689599587_e157acc9ce.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="eatin'" /></a><br /><br />We laughed, climbed, swam, and had moments not wanting to be anywhere else in the world other than exactly where we were.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4689612665/" title="friends by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4022/4689612665_d79d46b3f8.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="friends" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4690249578/" title="climbing by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4065/4690249578_3c15e59680.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="climbing" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4690257116/" title="swimming by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4031/4690257116_7db8c77662.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="swimming" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4689628307/" title="legs by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1279/4689628307_26f93407d2.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="legs" /></a><br /><br />At one point I stood next to Belly and Brad and was completely amazed that these two people from different parts of my life were meeting. Belly was not so surprised. When we left Alaska we genuinely promised to see each other again. And when Belly was in Pittsburgh she reminded me that she said she would come visit me. Simple as that. I haven't met many people outside of Japan that I feel like I could travel with. But we talked about places we have yet to go to. And she is true to her word. <div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4690310602/" title="whisper by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4038/4690310602_6c40bc9bbc.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="whisper" /></a></span></div><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4689687023/" title="down by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4019/4689687023_4db2ae9ab5.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="down" /></a><br /><br />All the good people are spread across the world. If we were all together it would be much more dull. And I wonder if there are anymore good people out there to meet.Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-69055475961529266392010-05-26T15:19:00.004+09:002010-05-26T15:39:13.352+09:00How a day can be spent when you work nights.<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Lucida Grande', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;">I have an electric kettle and a sink in my room which means leisurely mornings and late nights with tea.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Lucida Grande', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4606522804/" title="IMG_1739 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4031/4606522804_b278111fdc.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="IMG_1739" /></a></span><br /><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande', serif;">And I have daytimes that are spent doing only pleasurable things.</span><br /><div><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4617885024/" title="downtown sunshine by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4047/4617885024_af75876f99.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="downtown sunshine" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande', serif;">It will work for summer.</span></div><div><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4617951089/" title="Lindsay's Roses by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4069/4617951089_2e7837779d.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="Lindsay's Roses" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4617954883/" title="on the bike by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4004/4617954883_7fa05748e6.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="on the bike" /></a></div></div>Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-8586883486410206152010-04-16T04:35:00.012+09:002010-04-17T12:16:40.934+09:00The Neighborhood<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">I love <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/27/us/27iht-currents.html?scp=1&sq=placeless&st=cse">this article</a></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">, titled "The Struggles of the Global Placeless." My favorite line refers to people who "</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 22px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">find that their connections can run worldwide but only an inch deep. They may find it easier to ask friends in five countries for a favor than to ask a neighbor for sugar." Somehow I understand these friendships that are spread across the world best. </span></span></span>Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-58617737340335185182010-04-05T12:25:00.004+09:002010-04-05T12:35:17.821+09:00The Company You Keep<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4480984744/" title="3 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4007/4480984744_8dc26cb43d.jpg" alt="3" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />Most things seem to revolve around the company that one keeps. I could be living anywhere or working anywhere and be tremendously content if I have good company.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4480985918/" title="Peek by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4015/4480985918_156f66bd72.jpg" alt="Peek" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br /><span>“<span class="il">I</span> have three phobias which, could <span class="il">I</span> mute them, would make my life as slick as a sonnet, but as dull as ditch water: <span class="il">I</span> <span class="il">hate</span> <span class="il">to</span> go <span class="il">to</span> bed, <span class="il">I</span> <span class="il">hate</span> <span class="il">to</span> get up, and <span class="il">I</span> <span class="il">hate</span> <span class="il">to</span> <span class="il">be</span> <span class="il">alone</span>.”<br />Tallulah Bankhead</span>Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-15748456805474836252010-03-26T13:31:00.002+09:002010-03-26T14:02:29.705+09:00In PittsburghI now live in Pittsburgh. Supposedly in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Highland_Park_(Pittsburgh)">Highland Park</a>. But everything about the space I live in says <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/East_Liberty_(Pittsburgh)">East Liberty</a> (which borders Highland Park).<br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4463443907/" title="IMG_1704 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4063/4463443907_e110fac429.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_1704" /></a></span><br />Pittsburgh is cheap. People here have horrible accents and fashion. There are a lot of drunk people and people in tennis shoes with bags of fast food walking around downtown in the middle of the afternoon. And this winter was really cold. But, I have found my Pittsburgh routine to be a good one. Just under the surface there are some exceptional ways to spend the day. I finally managed to get a bunch of jobs. One <a href="http://www.echointernational.com/">here</a>, <a href="http://www.abayrestaurant.com/">here</a>, and <a href="http://www.pittsburghkids.org/">here</a>. And those few days that felt like spring were fabulous. I even found a $10 bill on the ground one afternoon when I decided to walk instead of take the bus. <div>Every Wednesday Jocelyn and I go to modern dance at <a href="http://dancealloy.org/dat/welcome.html">Dance Alloy</a>.</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4464223294/" title="IMG_1708 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2590/4464223294_b689b189e2.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_1708" /></a></span></div><br />And before we go we do things like eat salads in the kitchen in our leotards.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4463442479/" title="IMG_1700 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4066/4463442479_800f4bf603.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="IMG_1700" /></a><div><br /></div><div>When I am not going to modern dance I go to <a href="http://www.amazingyoga.net/amazingyoga/home.html">Amazing Yoga</a> which is now a donation based studio and my favorite place to be. I promise I am going to stick a big bill in that wooden chest when I finally get paid. </div><div>And when you live in Pittsburgh there might be a dumpster in front of your house one day and a kid standing on top of that dumpster. </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4463443527/" title="IMG_1703 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2714/4463443527_f6075391be.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="IMG_1703" /></a></span></div><br />And I can take a deep breath and put my hands on my hips and say, "I get this weird city I grew up in."Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-43539453526637022742010-03-20T14:02:00.014+09:002010-03-20T15:47:20.599+09:00Catching Up<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I stole these ideas from a book that Rachel owns. The book came after the website </span></span><a href="http://http://www.learningtoloveyoumore.com/reports/11/amy.php"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Learning to Love You More. </span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> I feel like these are good ways to catch up on my blogging hiatus. I like these exercises of sorts because I feel like they can be incredibly personal without saying much and without the reader really knowing much. </span></span><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://http://www.learningtoloveyoumore.com/reports/55/55.php">Photograph a Significant Outfit</a></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4446475231/" title="IMG_1671 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4064/4446475231_7cb15e147d.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="IMG_1671" /></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This is what I was wearing my second night back in America after 14 months away. Everyone was so drunk and kissing each other. And I realized that being back home was not really going to change things between us.</span></span></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4447250900/" title="IMG_1675 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4064/4447250900_4b3d67f78d.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="IMG_1675" /></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This is what I was wearing when I fell in love with yoga.</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande', serif;font-size:-webkit-xxx-large;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4446511301/" title="IMG_1699 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2786/4446511301_3fc39dd8ba.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="IMG_1699" /></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; "><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4446511301/" title="IMG_1699 by miss.caity, on Flickr"></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This is what I was wearing when I dressed up as Pippi Longstocking for Halloween. I used pipe cleaners to keep my braids up. I drank keg beer, thought of no one but myself, and had an amazing night.</span></span></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Lucida Grande', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:-webkit-xxx-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4447251598/" title="IMG_1679 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4069/4447251598_956a41ca5b.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="IMG_1679" /></a></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Lucida Grande', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This is what I was wearing when I found out he has a baby. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Lucida Grande', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:-webkit-xxx-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4447252528/" title="IMG_1690 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2709/4447252528_814985e554.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="IMG_1690" /></a></span></span></span></div><div><br /></div>This is what I was wearing the last day I had with an ESL student who genuinely seemed sad to say goodbye and the first time I had a boss go out of their way to tell me they would be more than happy to be a reference. <div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Lucida Grande', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:-webkit-xxx-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4446477781/" title="IMG_1695 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4060/4446477781_3af6324cc3.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="IMG_1695" /></a></span></span></span></div><div><br /></div>This is what I was wearing at an Americorps job interview in NYC. The man who was interviewing me interrupted me to smell his Subway sandwich for pickles. At that point, I started asking myself if I will ever get the things I feel like I deserve and I have not really stopped asking myself that since. I did not get the job. <div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.learningtoloveyoumore.com/reports/11/11.php">Photograph a Scar and Write about it </a></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:11px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4446474843/" title="IMG_1664 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2718/4446474843_b5e6c47c2d.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="IMG_1664" /></a></span></div><div><br /></div>I got this scar in a car accident when Brad and I were on our way to yoga. We were both already upset and angry about something and I did not really want to go to yoga. I was driving straight and I remember seeing the back of some woman's head as she looked right and made a left turn. I put my hand on the horn and slammed my foot on the break. She turned into me and my foot was smashed against my shoe and the break. No one was really hurt but both of our cars had to be towed away. Immediately after it happened I stopped being angry.Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-24686716100254966122010-03-14T16:36:00.008+09:002010-03-14T18:38:42.016+09:00Worth ItOn October 13th, while I was on the train to Celano, I wrote, "there are just so many things I want to take with me that I have learned."<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030890785/" title="train station in the early hours by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2733/4030890785_4fe8477001.jpg" alt="train station in the early hours" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />Among many things, I think what I wanted to keep was knowing how generous people can be. We met so many people that gave us their stories, food, places to stay, and advice without expecting anything in return. I want to have such traits and keep those kind of people in my life.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4033431691/" title="Outside of the Vatican by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3490/4033431691_54e08750fc.jpg" alt="Outside of the Vatican" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />Here are links to the entries about the trip. From Japan to Beijing, Italy to New York City and everything in between:<br /><a href="http://misscaity.blogspot.com/2010/01/bus-out-80109.html">The Bus Out</a><br /><a href="http://misscaity.blogspot.com/2010/01/heat-in-beijing-801-804.html">Heat in Beijing</a><br /><a href="http://misscaity.blogspot.com/2010/02/pick-pockets-84-811.html">Pick Pockets</a><br /><a href="http://misscaity.blogspot.com/2010/02/border-crossing-811-812.html">Border Crossing</a><br /><a href="http://misscaity.blogspot.com/2010/02/familiar-soviet-812-817.html">Familiar Soviet </a><br /><a href="http://misscaity.blogspot.com/2010/02/train-817-820.html">The Train </a><a href="http://misscaity.blogspot.com/2010/02/cats-and-cigarettes-at-galinas-820-824.html"><br />Cats and Cigarettes at Galina's </a><br /><a href="http://misscaity.blogspot.com/2010/02/creeps-825-827.html">Creeps'</a><br /><a href="http://misscaity.blogspot.com/2010/02/four-year-old-birthday-parties-827-99.html">Four Year Old Birthday Parties</a><br /><a href="http://misscaity.blogspot.com/2010/03/international-hostel-910-916.html">International Hostel </a><br /><a href="http://misscaity.blogspot.com/2010/03/high-on-mountian-top.html">High on a Mountain Top</a><br /><a href="http://misscaity.blogspot.com/2010/03/milanska-925-103.html">Milanska</a><br /><a href="http://misscaity.blogspot.com/2010/03/kitsch-and-drama-in-slovenia-103-1011.html">Kitsch and Drama in Slovenia </a><br /><a href="http://misscaity.blogspot.com/2010/03/food.html">The Food</a><br /><br /><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-24215703137168394802010-03-14T15:29:00.005+09:002010-03-14T18:06:23.207+09:00The Food 10/12-10/16Once we found a hostel in Rome we walked to a restaurant across the street. The waiter insisted that we order wine. At first we felt ripped off. Then we realized that is just the way in Italy. We drank the wine and ate our two pasta dishes. I never knew that pasta can taste fresh. Like eating a fruit that is perfectly in season, the pasta tastes<span style="font-style: italic;"> fresh</span>. We then had coffee and tiramisu. It started to pour rain and it felt really good to be so close to the hostel. There were women behind Brad sitting at a red checkered table, playing cards, drinking coffee, beer, and wine. We commented on how the entire restaurant felt like a prop. Saying "grazie, bonjouro, and ciao" felt almost phony. We were afraid Rome would be cheesy and too touristy. But these prop like restaurants, phrases, and people were all real. And it was wonderful.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4034169046/" title="It was almost like a stage prop by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2452/4034169046_e96903d6db.jpg" alt="It was almost like a stage prop" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><br />That was the beginning of eating in Rome. We never looked at prices, we only thought about how amazing the food would be. And we were never let down.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4033415295/" title="Center of the City by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3513/4033415295_d245fc1d72.jpg" alt="Center of the City" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4034169226/" title="Lip Bites by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3481/4034169226_41128664f6.jpg" alt="Lip Bites" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />We took a side trip to the town of Celano, where Brad's paternal relatives come from.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4034175950/" title="2 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2570/4034175950_2ff82f7a61.jpg" alt="2" width="375" height="500" /></a><br />We ate more delicious food. Eating that ravioli was like making love.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4034176344/" title="Delicious by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3516/4034176344_0c9f95fc48.jpg" alt="Delicious" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4034176366/" title="Mouth wipe by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2635/4034176366_4549bddc26.jpg" alt="Mouth wipe" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />We met more characters. And through the help of google translator found a place to stay.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4033422387/" title="3 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2431/4033422387_9df51ebe2e.jpg" alt="3" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />We sat through a Tuesday evening mass in an old church to stay warm.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4034184688/" title="2 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3524/4034184688_25b6b0442a.jpg" alt="2" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />There were wooden confessionals and the ceilings were painted. When the mass ended we wandered into a dress shop. The owner told us it was the oldest dress shop in Celano. I splurged on an Italian dress. In my fantasies, Brad's great-grandmother had bought dresses from the same shop.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4033430919/" title="Salute by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2614/4033430919_c47e5c792a.jpg" alt="Salute" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />Once we had returned to Rome we had big plans for our last meal in Italy. At this point, we were really good at scoping out the atmosphere of restaurants. We decided on one with retro decorations, including a motorcycle. Wine, appetizers, pizza, pasta, and desert. We were there for well over two hours and spent about fifty euros. We had done a good job staying within our $50 per day budget for most of the trip. We gave up in Italy and it was all worth it. We got back to the hostel and did our <span style="font-style: italic;">final pack</span>, a little drunk.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4034186060/" title="Last night of packing by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2729/4034186060_9c5fb5d55f.jpg" alt="Last night of packing" width="375" height="500" /></a><br />We ate chocolate croissants as the sun was rising the following morning. Then we stood in line at the airport with other Americans for a nonstop flight to New York City. I watched a woman eat a hot dog with too much ketchup while she was on a bus to the gate and I wanted to vomit. Brad talked to an eccentric woman with a puppy who, in American fashion, felt no need to keep any secrets about herself. We were going home to unpack our backpacks. On the plane, I noticed the ownership that one does not feel when they have lived out of a backpack for three months. And then there we were in New York City.<br /><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-73915069358183968352010-03-14T14:06:00.005+09:002010-03-14T18:12:03.464+09:00Kitsch and Drama in Slovenia 10/3-10/11We took the train from Prague to Salzburg, Austria. Salzburg was full of expensive things and people that were staring at my knee socks and Brad's shorts. It was Sunday and no grocery stores were opened. Luckily, we had some left over food and managed to eat without spending money in an over priced restaurant. We got the train to Slovenia and took a sigh of relief.<br /><br />We arrived in Bled, Slovenia and sat down with a pizza and red wine. Italy is famous for such delicacies, but Slovenian wine and pizza was, perhaps, even more amazing. We then took a bus to Bohinj to do some hiking in the Julian alps. We walked to the youth hostel and drank two large glasses of red wine. Our hostel was empty and reminded us of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Shining.<br /></span><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4032391865/" title="drinks at the bar by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2583/4032391865_e4b20b1815.jpg" alt="drinks at the bar" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />The next morning as we started the hike a dog followed us up the mountain. And continued with us for the rest of the walk.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4033145178/" title="Start by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2547/4033145178_c2d905c1fb.jpg" alt="Start" width="375" height="500" /></a><br />Brad continued to walk ahead of me. The dog seemed to be more concerned if I was keeping up.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4033145230/" title="Best Dog by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2635/4033145230_e21c1eb7e0.jpg" alt="Best Dog" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />We got close to the peak were we had our standard bread, cheese, and tomatoes lunch. The ascend had taken us longer than expected and it was clear we needed to get back.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4033145296/" title="2 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2750/4033145296_f75d29ca43.jpg" alt="2" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />We arrived at a place where the path diverged at 4:15 p.m. A post said that it would take 2 hours and 50 minutes to reach the bottom of the mountain. That was discouraging to say the least. The dog stayed by our side the entire time and my legs felt like jelly. Brad stayed ahead of me and we held onto the hill side as we descended the steep mountain at dusk. When we finally got to the bottom we both talked about the emergency scenarios we were going over in our heads if the sunlight had beat us. At this point we were starving and tired. But the dog was still with us. I insisted on knocking on strangers doors to find out where she lived. No one knew and everyone looked at me like I was crazy. The dog sat under our table as we ate in a hotel.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4032392405/" title="dinner in the hotel by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3490/4032392405_b936002af7.jpg" alt="dinner in the hotel" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />Our last day in Bohinj was spent eating pizza, drinking wine, and marveling at our surroundings.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4033145704/" title="Bohjin map by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2550/4033145704_0e35bb5082.jpg" alt="Bohjin map" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4033145836/" title="Wine to match my hat by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2591/4033145836_f342c28af0.jpg" alt="Wine to match my hat" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />Then it was off to the capital city of Ljublana where we would meet our Slovenia friends from Russia that we made promises of visits to. Gasper and Klavdija were perfect hosts. They are both theater stars in Slovenia. We got to see free shows and we seemed to be perfect guest cast members in the theatrical life that is Gasper and Klavdija. We had a beautiful Sunday road trip on our way to the Italian border. We made stops along the way and learned about Slovenia, a country that is 40% forest, much of that land being untouched to this day.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4033414603/" title="walks by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2669/4033414603_bc8f247ab0.jpg" alt="walks" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4034168570/" title="Disappearing Lake by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2665/4034168570_854e269f8f.jpg" alt="Disappearing Lake" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4033415095/" title="Klavdija by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2706/4033415095_105c27644f.jpg" alt="Klavdija" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4034168930/" title="Gasper by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2462/4034168930_06531df0b8.jpg" alt="Gasper" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />Our last stop was at the border town of Piran. Gasper and Klavdija continually referred to it as a "kitschy town." It was sunset over the Adriatic sea. We sat down at an outdoor restaurant. Gasper and I indulged in some herbs and my feta stuffed calamari arrived. It was the most delicious meal I have ever eaten, the definition of perfection. We barely made it to the train on time. The weekend ended with appropriate drama. Brad and I jumped on the train bound for Rome and waved goodbye to our hosts.<br /><span style="display: block; padding-left: 6em;"><span></span></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-86520015391211734692010-03-12T12:45:00.006+09:002010-03-12T14:31:42.372+09:00Milanska 9/25- 10/3Originally, Brad and I were going to take the train from Beijing to St. Petersburg and fly to Prague. But why fly when you can travel by land? And the further we traveled the longer we wanted to stay in each place. I finally decided that I would arrive in Prague on September 25th and Brad would meet me there on the 28th. I had first come to Prague in September of 2005 as part of a study abroad program. I stayed with 11 year old Kristyna and her mother, Jitka. I lived with them for four months. They are some of the most loving people I know. I probably gained about 15 pounds while I lived with them. I drank wine and wine and wine. Jitka made plates of meats, cheeses, and savory treats that we would snack on as we watched the first season of VyVoleni or the Czech Big Brother. <input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zBo3VAHlInw&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zBo3VAHlInw&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br />Jitka brought food in my room when I studied. We went to the country house, something all Czech people have. Kristyna could speak little English but she became my sister. I loved the bed I slept in in their apartment. I took a bath every night and went to bed early. I lived further out of the city than most people in my program but I began to love public transport. I could sit on the metro and buses without looking up at every stop. I knew the city. When I left Kristyna, Jitka and I cried. I promised I would come see them again. And I cannot believe it took me four years to do so.<br /><br />I meet them at the train station. Kristyna was holding flowers and Jitka was holding the hand of her new daughter, Karolina. Kristyna was wearing make-up and spoke to me in English. When we got home Jitka opened a bottle of champagne and we toasted to our reunion.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030890817/" title="Champagne welcome by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3535/4030890817_96c387be19.jpg" alt="Champagne welcome" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030890845/" title="sweet Czech sister by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2506/4030890845_10758eefb2.jpg" alt="sweet Czech sister" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030890893/" title="Czech family by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3499/4030890893_c0854ac183.jpg" alt="Czech family" width="375" height="500" /></a><br />This home was familiar. That night I slept in the bed with Kristyna. For the first time since I had been in America in 2008 I woke up feeling like I was somewhere permanent.<br />During the trip my anxieties revolved around how I was going to get somewhere and then where I would slept once I got there. Or how long a hike would be and what kind of food I could get where. When I woke up in my Czech home that morning I knew I did not have to worry about any of those things. So for the first time in a while I started to think about a magnitude of other things that come to the surface in familiar places.<br />That day we went to the country house. Their dog came with us and Jitka's new husband, Peter met us after work.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031644042/" title="front yard scene by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2796/4031644042_3c4a25b071.jpg" alt="front yard scene" width="375" height="500" /></a><br />The first evening we were there Kristyna and I watched <span style="font-style: italic;">Troy</span>. Then we talked about feeling at home in a country that is not your own. We analyzed culture and our feelings in English. I had grown to love Kristyna without really being able to speak to her. But here I was, talking about and analyzing things that I am not sure many people could understand.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031648180/" title="outhouse by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3521/4031648180_4af69cd9b0.jpg" alt="outhouse" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031648286/" title="sandbox by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2579/4031648286_157f8530a1.jpg" alt="sandbox" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030895335/" title="looking sweet by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3517/4030895335_d9281f7508.jpg" alt="looking sweet" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />When the weekend ended we went back to Prague and Brad met us there. That night Jitka, Peter, Kristyna, Karolina, Brad, and I all slept in the apartment.<br />During the week Brad and I met up with my academic adviser from when I studied there. We talked to her a lot about being expats over Czech beers. She pointed us in the direction of some interesting art museums and a performance art piece.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4033133962/" title="DOX by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3513/4033133962_5c1f5a2fb9.jpg" alt="DOX" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />We went on walks around my old neighborhood and rode in the elevator.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4032374975/" title="Brad and Kristyna by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2683/4032374975_51c4f5ab5a.jpg" alt="Brad and Kristyna" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4032375159/" title="family hugs by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3143/4032375159_21ae1b8df0.jpg" alt="family hugs" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4033134084/" title="karolina elevator by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2763/4033134084_9639569724.jpg" alt="karolina elevator" width="375" height="500" /></a><br />On the second to last night we drank with Peter. He does not speak English, but him and Brad managed to talk about music while they drank secret liquor on the balcony.<br /><br />I think it is something about that family not being my own that allows me to love them so much. I came into their lives as a person. The only way they have shaped me has been in a positive sense.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4032380917/" title="holding her nose by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2648/4032380917_6c8a8ed1d1.jpg" alt="holding her nose" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4032381097/" title="on the way up by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2421/4032381097_04ab886420.jpg" alt="on the way up" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4033144846/" title="moje sestra by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2581/4033144846_45e1fd8495.jpg" alt="moje sestra" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />Everyone drove us to the train station on Saturday. And everyone told each other that we loved each other. These were people I did not want to say goodbye to. Sometimes I miss the city of Prague, but mostly I miss Jitka and Kristyna and that familiar apartment.<br /><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-61554070004995887482010-03-02T04:39:00.007+09:002010-03-11T14:56:46.386+09:00High on a Mountian Top 9/17- 9/24<div>Our tickets home were purchased while I was in Warsaw, Poland. On October 16th we would fly from Rome, Italy to New York City. It was September 17th so I had one month left on the trip. I arrived in Warsaw after an uncomfortable overnight bus all the way from Estonia.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c8qHAZtU4DQ/S4wZnjn-qnI/AAAAAAAABhw/Dqh82LNazBw/s1600-h/revised-eastern-europe-map.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 377px; display: block; height: 397px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443754216952605298" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c8qHAZtU4DQ/S4wZnjn-qnI/AAAAAAAABhw/Dqh82LNazBw/s400/revised-eastern-europe-map.jpg" border="0" /></a>I was alone for the first time on the trip. I walked in the wrong direction for a while when I left the bus stop. The first hostel I got to was full and at the second I was yelled at by some jerk with a sleeve of tattoos. Finally I went to <a href="http://www.nathansvilla.com/warsaw.html">Nathan's Villa</a> where the receptionist was so nice to me. The day got better as I discovered the city. I stopped in a used clothing store for the first time on the trip, things like this make independent travel necessary. It was an end of summer sunny day. I went to the former <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warsaw_Ghetto">Jewish Ghetto</a> which is now the largest Jewish Cemetery.<br /><a href="http://www.nathansvilla.com/warsaw.html"></a><br /><a title="headstones and trees by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031623552/"><img alt="headstones and trees" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2541/4031623552_82645f7e0d.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a title="shadow in cemetery by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031623654/"><img alt="shadow in cemetery" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3014/4031623654_c596d0d226.jpg" width="375" height="500" /></a><br />It was another beautiful cemetery day. I wish I had had all day to walk around there.<br />I got on the train to Krakow on the 18th. I was getting closer to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/High_Tatras">High Tatras</a>, something I had been looking forward to the entire trip. There was a picture of some people on the High Tatras in the fall in my <em>Eastern Europe Lonely Planet</em>. This photograph made it a must go to destination for me.<br />I stayed at the Nathan's Villa in Krakow which was basically the biggest party in the city. Days in Krakow were spent in an amazing cafe with vintage furniture and photographs. I could not have dreamed-up a more interesting coffee shop.<br /><a title="typewriter by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030871511/"><img alt="typewriter" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2584/4030871511_4d7472f202.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a title="tea and cake by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030871601/"><img alt="tea and cake" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2575/4030871601_e2e930c8c8.jpg" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><a title="beautiful coffee shop by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030871763/"><img alt="beautiful coffee shop" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2518/4030871763_fe602b94bb.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a title="full of amazing antiques by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030871727/"><img alt="full of amazing antiques" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2771/4030871727_c628237d80.jpg" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><br />Ever since Anne Frank had stolen my heart back in Mongolia the only must-do I had in Krakow was to visit <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Auschwitz">Auschwitz</a>. As expected, it was horribly depressing. Luckily, I meet an older couple who befriended me. The man had a walker and they told me all about their many travels. They were in Poland because they had just always wanted to come there. There son had gone to CMU and they were familiar with the JET program.<br /><a title="these elderly people told me I reminded them of their daughter in law by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031624470/"><img alt="these elderly people told me I reminded them of their daughter in law" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2798/4031624470_42d36b63eb.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a title="man on the right was my buddy by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031624882/"><img alt="man on the right was my buddy" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2570/4031624882_5ee91c5f27.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />When we were about to leave the woman told me I reminded her of her daughter-in-law who, she told me, was a redheaded Quaker.<br />I was planning to go to the town of Zakopane, at the base of the High Tatras, on the morning of the 22nd. On the afternoon of the 21st I decided I was done with Krakow and in the spirit of independent travel I picked up my bags and got on a bus. When I got off the bus I was so happy to be in the mountains. I hiked the following day for about eight hours and meet various people along the trail. One Polish woman asked who I was hiking with and when I said I was alone she looked me up and down and said, "brave girl."<br /><a title="2 by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031642164/"><img alt="2" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2719/4031642164_c8f012d354.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a title="high on a mountain top by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031642414/"><img alt="high on a mountain top" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2563/4031642414_eb148e8b9b.jpg" width="375" height="500" /></a><a title="high tatras by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030889427/"></a><br /><a title="taking a rest by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031642704/"><img alt="taking a rest" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2718/4031642704_b3a11a4a37.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />The hostel I was staying in was closing for the season the following day. I was told about the hostel, <a href="http://www.gingermonkey.eu/Index.html">Ginger Monkey</a> not too far away in the small town of Zdiar in Slovakia. I took the bus there and it was, by far, the most fantastic hostel I have ever been to. There is not much to do in the town of Zdiar other than hike. Getting to the hostel involves two buses and walking across the Poland/ Slovakia border. Everyone that was staying there were genuinely cool and interesting travelers.<br /><a title="2 by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031643196/"><img alt="2" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2725/4031643196_5ca87e7f80.jpg" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><a title="butterfly on laundry by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030890229/"><img alt="butterfly on laundry" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2738/4030890229_d326713647.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />The second day I was there I decided to hike through the mountain pass. As I was beginning my hike I ran into a French girl, Nadine who I persuaded to hike with me. Luckily she agreed. I had no idea how empty and difficult the trail would be. The hike resembled other mind trips. We began talking non-stop and giggling a lot.<br /><a title="face wipe by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030890305/"><img alt="face wipe" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3526/4030890305_c9b71eefa7.jpg" width="375" height="500" /></a></div><br /><div>The closer we got to the top the more beautiful everything was. We made the occasional comment about how amazing this mountain pass was. It was foggy so we could not see the view that I am sure was spectacular. As we were walking through the fog we came upon a mountain goat. He was huge and so close to us. All three of us stood there and looked at each other.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030890523/" title="hikes by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2498/4030890523_bb9388f00f.jpg" alt="hikes" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030890381/" title="Nadine and flowers by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2641/4030890381_6dfeace013.jpg" alt="Nadine and flowers" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />Nadine then vocalized all the feelings I have about traveling. She said, "I wish everyone I know could be here with me and see what I am seeing." We both agreed that moments like this always have some sort of guilt involved. But then again, "if everyone I knew where here, this would not nearly be as special."<br />The giggles had stopped long ago and the high we had from climbing down from the top was beginning to wear off. We walked through forest, getting totally lost in our own thoughts. Just as it started to get dark we got off the mountain and managed to get a ride back to the hostel. That evening everyone drank and I met three people from Asheville, North Carolina. This was one of the most exciting things that happened to me the entire time I was traveling.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031643662/" title="of liquor by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2488/4031643662_3fd1456b69.jpg" alt="of liquor" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031643742/" title="2 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2438/4031643742_3950a39203.jpg" alt="2" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030890723/" title="Nadine, my hiking friend by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2549/4030890723_23acb1da19.jpg" alt="Nadine, my hiking friend" width="375" height="500" /></a><br />After a twenty year old Australian boy failed in his determined effort to sleep with me I went to bed, setting an alarm for just three hours later when I would have to wake up to get my bus to get to Prague.<br />I woke about twenty minutes after my alarm. I put on my backpack, and ran to the bus stop in the early morning dark. I had missed the bus and there was no way I was going to call my host family and tell them I would be late. I was still a little drunk, I was in Slovakia, it was dark, hitchhiking was my only option. But I got to my train and was finally on my way to see Jitka and Kristyna.<br /></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-81741191261854278342010-03-01T04:17:00.012+09:002010-03-02T09:51:40.785+09:00International Hostel 9/10- 9/16On our last night in Tallin, Estonia we decided that we needed to get sufficiently drunk. We had not really gone out much during the trip. We spent most of our days on our feet and most evenings relaxing.<br /><a title="old town streets by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030869391/"><img alt="old town streets" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2694/4030869391_0b4b58027a.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a title="television flowers by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030869573/"><img alt="television flowers" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2586/4030869573_a718a2c17d.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a title="church in old town by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031622160/"><img alt="church in old town" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2649/4031622160_9b9431878a.jpg" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><a title="reflections in sand by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030869859/"><img alt="reflections in sand" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2451/4030869859_5dea8c9e30.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />It was Friday, September 11th and we started the night off with pizza and wine. Then to the bars for very strong Estonian beers.<br /><a title="I'm gonna get you crunk by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030869951/"><img alt="I'm gonna get you crunk" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3214/4030869951_4b1b23b532.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />We spent the night on the dance floor in two of Tallin's gay bars. Brad managed to get hit on enough that got us both free drinks. We left after I got yelled at for taking pictures and Brad broke a glass on the dance floor. The following morning we boarded a bus that would take us to <a href="http://http//en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saaremaa">Saaremaa</a> island. We found the most lovely hostel called<a href="http://http//www.karluti.ee/main.html"> Karluti</a>, run by a husband and wife duo. During our time on the island we rented bikes and jumped in bodies of water. We ate mushroom soup in a bread bowl at a restaurant that was in a windmill. The soup was delicious and we had pancakes for dessert.<br /><a title="Windmill by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030870079/"><img alt="Windmill" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2618/4030870079_4996a4f048.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a title="blankets and kitties by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030870223/"><img alt="blankets and kitties" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2653/4030870223_ca99b89230.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a title="cold Brad, bike by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031622894/"><img alt="cold Brad, bike" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2578/4031622894_22df6ee6da.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a title="jump by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031622950/"><img alt="jump" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2585/4031622950_646a80f0df.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />The hostel was new and the owners were so proud of it. The first night we shared the room with a Dutch girl and our hosts boasted that it was a very "international hostel." We used the new kitchen and ate an elaborate meal on the deck. Of the trip I would say it was the most memorable hostel.<br /><a title="statue by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031623142/"><img alt="statue" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3487/4031623142_8190d4a207.jpg" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><br />The following day Brad and I headed our separate directions with plans to meet again in Prague. I went to <a href="http://http//en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parnu">Parnu</a>, which boasts on being a spa town. I saw one spa that looked like it had been closed for about ten years. The hostel I stayed in was almost empty and sterile. The only person I met was some older man that kind of followed me to a Mexican restaurant and then wanted to drink a beer. I decided that it was past time to leave Estonia. I made plans to ride buses for about 15 hours so I could get to Poland.Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-40416039392809018562010-02-28T13:03:00.012+09:002010-03-02T02:38:26.174+09:00Four Year Old Birthday Parties 8/27- 9/9Somehow Brad had distant contacts in Finland so we decided to go there. And in what we learned is the Finnish way, everyone was very hospitable. When we arrived in Helsinki on August 27th things seemed actually Western for the first time. We saw large grocery stores and everyone looked like they shopped at H&M. We took a metro to an urban campsite which was closed when we got there. We set up our tent and slept without sleeping bags that night. It was horribly cold. The following morning we decided not to pay the campsite and jumped in the lake to clean off. We waved at the metro that crossed on a nearby bridge.<br />It was Friday evening and we meet a friend of a friend of a friend, a woman named Marjo. We took the train with her to her house in the suburb <a href="http://http//en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lahti">Lahti</a>. Saturday her four year old was having a birthday party. We told her we would be happy to join everyone for this celebration. We brought the small stuffed Tiger that we bought for the four year old and we were eager to see what a Friday night in Lahti would bring. Marjo's husband Sami was at home making dinner when we arrived. They offered us beds in their children's play room and an amazing dinner. Their home was warm and comfortable. After spending a couple weeks with our backpacks on overnight trains and in houses of Russian strangers this house in Lahti felt like coming home. After dinner Marjo and Sami told us we could us the <a href="http://http//en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sauna">sauna</a>. It is typical to have a sauna in Finnish homes. And after a sauna the tradition is to drink a beer. So after the sauna we sat outside, in towels, drinking a beer and wondering how we were so lucky to meet these amazing people.<br /><a title="naps by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030851259/"><img alt="naps" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2428/4030851259_cdc000c4da.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />The following morning we woke up to a wonderful breakfast and went to the ski museum. We watched people on a ski jump and ate at McDonald's with Sami and his two boys. That afternoon was Verner's fourth birthday party. A couple of kids came over and everyone ate cake. The adults drank coffee and talked about facebook. The birthday party was really nice. There were some small gifts and everyone jumped on the trampoline.<br /><a title="2 by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031604264/"><img alt="2" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2507/4031604264_a271df00a9.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a title="trampoline by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031604238/"><img alt="trampoline" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3103/4031604238_93ed0b39d6.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />Alex had a cute daughter that was frightened by Brad and me speaking English. But once Alex and I got to talking it was decided that we should go to the bar and sing karaoke. Sami took a nap before we went out. And once we got there I sang ABBA and Britney Spears. Alex sang some amazing opera songs and I had to persuade everyone to leave at 4 a.m. After we ate a pizza I slept through the cab ride back to Sami's. The following morning we had plans to drive to Sami's mothers lakeside cabin. We tried to push through our hangovers and finally got in the car to drive to the town of <a href="http://http//en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kuhmoinen">Kuhominen</a>. We brought a bunch of food that we ate while we looked at the lake and waited for the wood fire sauna to warm up.<br /><br /><a title="lake side cabin by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030851565/"><img alt="lake side cabin" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2527/4030851565_ba04ffa8c5.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br /><a title="Me and Brad by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030851625/"><img alt="Me and Brad" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3533/4030851625_0d6d599f15.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />We sat in the sauna and jumped in the lake. It was cold for late August and beautiful. We drove back to Lahti that evening and spent one more night in the comfortable suburban home with our hosts.<br /><br />That Monday, the 31st of August began our days of hitchhiking and camping for free in Finland. We were headed north, to a small town near Vaasa, Finland to meet Riika, Brad's original Finland contact. Sami spent his lunch break driving us to the train station that Monday. We said our goodbyes and told each other that we would all meet again. These conversations happen a lot in travels. And sometimes they are genuine, this was one of those times. We made our way to Tejo National Park which was much smaller than expected. I saw a lot of moose tracks and I was convinced that we would be attacked by moose or bear while we slept in the tent. I also realized I left my favorite t-shirt at Marjo and Sami's.<br />The following day we hitchhiked to Turku. Once again we encountered Finnish hospitality. The man that picked us up cancelled his plans and drove us all the way to our desired destination. On September 3rd we spent the day trying to get to Pori, Finland. First, some 19 year old nursing students picked us up. They had recently gotten their driver's license and did not take us very far. Then a man who fixed air conditioners picked us up. He said he occasionally picks up hitchhikers because he travels a lot for his job and that the hitchhikers are mostly foreigners. He dropped us off in the middle of the countryside. We were eating chocolate when some woman with a lot of eye glasses on her dashboard picked us up and told us she would take us to a better spot to get a ride. Finally, some young people picked us up who were going to Pori. They smoked a lot of cigarettes and talked about Finnish music. It had taken us all day to get 120 km, but it was a fun day. We set our tent up behind the train station and went to a bar that ended up being really cool. There was a jazz band and good beer.<br /><a title="bar in Pori by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031604712/"><img alt="bar in Pori" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2623/4031604712_910824f83d.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />We arrived at Riika's on Friday, September 4th. When we got there I had a package, it was my favorite t-shirt that Sami had mailed to me. We spent the weekend with Riika, her husband, their baby, and his parents. They took us to a Finnish food festival, we spent more time in the sauna and played frisbee in their backyard.<br /><a title="flavors by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030851969/"><img alt="flavors" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2473/4030851969_6c2ed57022.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br /><a title="frying fish by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030852075/"><img alt="frying fish" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2493/4030852075_0a4f84322a.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br /><a title="knit by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031604860/"><img alt="knit" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2660/4031604860_750e018800.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />We left Finland after we had eaten far too much and found an incredibly cheap ferry ticket to Stockholm, Sweden. Our time in Sweden was uneventful. One night while we were in a bar I said, "I want to meet more people." Brad was relieved. We decided we would spend our time in Estonia together and split up after that. I was starting to feel a little homesick for Ikeda and had anxiety about returning to my parents house. Brad kept talking about Pennsylvania in the fall and his Pittsburgh friends. But I was happy to have slept in so many nice beds and to have those green knitted socks that were a gift from Riika's mother-in-law.<br /><a title="our room by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031605148/"><img alt="our room" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2569/4031605148_9522809f91.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a>Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-10010067533493401922010-02-26T15:35:00.008+09:002010-03-02T02:31:15.266+09:00Creeps' 8/25-8/27We took an overnight train from Moscow to St.Petersburg. I had arranged to stay with a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/CouchSurfing">couchsurfer</a> in St. Petersburg. We thought it would be a nice way to see the city, avoid the inevitable young drunks you get at a hostel and to stay on budget. Our host was Alexander. He thought he had to work the day we arrived. We were relieved to hear this as all we really wanted to do was relax since we had not really slept on the train. We asked if we could set up the bed and when he got a phone call informing him that he did not have to go into work until the afternoon he decided to pull out his bed and take a nap as well. Both beds were in the living room. So at about 10 a.m. we all took a nap.<br /><a title="pull out beds by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030851173/"><img alt="pull out beds" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2487/4030851173_d66bdfb575.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a title="in Brad's backpack by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031603960/"><img alt="in Brad's backpack" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2663/4031603960_4d9046f6fe.jpg" width="375" height="500" /></a><br />Brad and I began to call Alexander "Creeps." He continued to live up to this name. That afternoon we bought a tent and decided that couchsurfing sometimes gets weird. Our one full day in St.Petersburg was spent at the Hermitage and then I went to see Swan Lake. We took Alexander to eat at Subway for the first time. And I think he was excited to just walk around the city with some "real-life Americans" (as he referred to us).<br /><a title="The State Hermitage by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030851153/"><img alt="The State Hermitage" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2568/4030851153_9a6ee22b96.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />We tried to do laundry before we left, but we found out that our host did not actually know how to work his washing machine and I think it was broken anyway. We spent a moment wondering how he washes his clothes and then I was more concerned by the fact that all my light colors had taken on weird shades of green and blue.Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-21747030027559677572010-02-26T12:35:00.005+09:002010-03-01T08:51:46.431+09:00Cats and Cigarettes at Galina's 8/20- 8/24While we were in Irkutsk I made reservations at Galina's home stay in Moscow. It was listed as the cheapest place in Moscow and we were enjoying our homestays in Russia, so it was perfect. We arrived early and Galina was sitting in her kitchen with a cigarette in hand. This position looked natural for Galina. Her cats climbed on and off the furniture and we found some beds in her spare bedroom.<br /><a title="2 by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031603826/"><img alt="2" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2471/4031603826_57a831cbe2.jpg" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><br />Galina showed us how the locks worked and her husband Sergey stood by her silently.<br /><a title="Galina and Sergey by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030850977/"><img alt="Galina and Sergey" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2769/4030850977_302cdaba58.jpg" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><br />We checked into our rooms the same time as Asmara, an independent French traveler. Asmara was studying Polish which is fairly similar to Russian. She loved maps and was well prepared for Moscow. Brad and I were in luck.<br /><a title="clapping by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031603546/"><img alt="clapping" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2571/4031603546_bb9f6e42d3.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />I attempted to enjoy the city our first day there. But, my fever pushed me back in bed. Two older British men were sharing our room as well. I disregarded them as I walked back and forth from the bathroom to throw-up in only a t-shirt. That night Brad came back at 6:30 a.m. I was feeling resentful that I had been in bed with fever dreams. The following day Asmara and I left Galina's with maps and guide books and headed towards the State Tretyakov Gallery and then the Novodevicky Convent. We walked through a cemetery to get to the convent and the sun was out. It was a beautiful day.<br /><a title="Asmara in cemetery by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030850561/"><img alt="Asmara in cemetery" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2618/4030850561_a5df195eaa.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />Asmara and I talked about how we would like to have a picnic in a cemetery. We payed a fee to get into the convent which allowed us to enter the various churches and galleries and sit on a bench, enjoying late afternoon sun. Asmara and I talked about religion. Not believing in things and believing in other things. All the religious icons we saw that day were so spectacular. I was glad not everyone was Quaker because then no one would make beautiful iconography like that. We left to get wine for the evening and Asmara told me she "had a really nice day." At that moment it was one of the most lovely things anyone had ever said to me.<br /><a title="wine glass by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030850817/"><img alt="wine glass" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2629/4030850817_8e32756f91.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a title="talking about dessert by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030850887/"><img alt="talking about dessert" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2451/4030850887_c6a83fe9c0.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a title="Picnic by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031603682/"><img alt="Picnic" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3253/4031603682_68417ff4c9.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a>Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-56310723654858744492010-02-26T12:07:00.004+09:002010-03-01T08:47:40.339+09:00The Train 8/17- 8/20On the 17th of August, at 2:30 a.m. we boarded a train, prepared to live on it for the next four days. It was on the train that my reoccurring nightmare began. I kept dreaming that I had to go back to Japan. That I was not making a one-way journey. I would wake up relieved.<br />Everything that could have happened on the train happened before 5 p.m. on the first day. Some Russia people offered us their pickled vegetables and potatoes. We drank vodka with them as an old sailor played the accordion. Two women spoke English and translated questions. The English speakers were teachers and we talked about the Russian education system pre and post communism. As we were singing and dancing to the accordion music the Russian police walked through our train car and tried to tell us that our documents were not legitimate. Our new friends asked these corrupt police officers to please "not do international scandal." They left us alone and we went on eating and drinking.<br /><a title="Trans-Siberian Accordion by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031545540/"><img alt="Trans-Siberian Accordion" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2733/4031545540_32f8a89496.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br /><a title="Getting out to Stretch by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031545726/"><img alt="Getting out to Stretch" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2499/4031545726_222aeaa6ed.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br /><a title="Platzcart Travel by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030791807/"><img alt="Platzcart Travel" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2589/4030791807_5f42288511.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a title="2 by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031590538/"><img alt="2" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3524/4031590538_07d1b8cdf0.jpg" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><br />Our days consisted of when we were going to get hot water for our cup of noodles. And what block of cheese we would cut to put on the bread. I bought a blanket for $20 one day. These four days of Siberian scenery kept our budget where we hoped it to be. When I got off the train in Moscow I had a fever and wanted to spend the entire day in the shower. That evening when I laid on the bed it felt strange not to gently rock back and forth.Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-79417673456882251602010-02-26T05:54:00.009+09:002010-03-01T08:46:01.070+09:00Familiar Soviet 8/12- 8/17We arrived in Irkutsk, Russia on August 12th. All of a sudden the people looked a little more like me. The architecture was Soviet, reminding me of Prague and it felt familiar. I heard someone ask for "syr" at a store and from my Czech language days I knew they were talking about cheese. Brad and I were out of Asia and it felt good. We left the train station and began to look for a hostel. Our <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1873756941/ref=pd_lpo_k2_dp_sr_1?pf_rd_p=486539851&pf_rd_s=lpo-top-stripe-1&pf_rd_t=201&pf_rd_i=1873756704&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_r=0EQ9RAEJ4GRHM66GP3JT">Trans-Siberian guide book</a> had some hostel and homestay suggestions and tips on how to find them. In Russia, backpacking is still a fairly new concept so these budget style accommodations are not well marked. We found the addresses of a few hostels and searched for a buzzer on the building where they were supposed to be, but none of them seemed to actually exist. There was one homestay that was described as having a tall gate and a <em>beware of dog</em> sign. When we got there a beautiful Russian woman came downstairs with a English translator on the phone. She could host us for a night and we were thrilled because her home was intimate, clean, and comfortable.<br /><br /><a title="Irkutsk Hostel by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030785747/"><img alt="Irkutsk Hostel" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3536/4030785747_49dbd1d7e3.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br /><a title="Morning Windows by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030785787/"><img alt="Morning Windows" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2639/4030785787_a68b022e65.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />We had to leave early the next morning because she was having other guests. But she made us a delicious 7 a.m. breakfast.<br /><br /><a title="Irkutsk Hostel Breakfast by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030785867/"><img alt="Irkutsk Hostel Breakfast" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2686/4030785867_5607e772f8.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />While we were in Mongolia we had meet a pair of neurotic British girls that were doing the trip in the opposite direction as we were. We asked them about Lake Baikal and Irkutsk. They told us that they and taken a bus ride to Oklhon island. They described it as a "hippy island" and told us that it was not exactly their "scene." We decided we should go there. Oklhon Island lays in the middle of Lake Baikal and is about a six hour bus ride from Irkutsk. The population on the island is less than 1,500 and not until 2005 did the full island receive electricity.<br /><br />It was cold and rainy when we got to Oklhon island. The story is that if you put your hand in Lake Baikal one year is added to your life, and if you jump in, twenty five years. We stuck our hands in.<br /><a title="2 by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031539990/"><img alt="2" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2783/4031539990_ab68d74bd6.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a title="5 by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030786039/"><img alt="5" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3498/4030786039_563fb1e652.jpg" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><br />We stayed in another homestay, Nikitas. Once a small homestay it now has 40 beds, making it the largest place to stay on the island. The owner of the house had craved all the amazing woodwork. And his wife offered me a bucket of water so I could clean my muddy boots off.<br /><br /><a title="Olkhon Island Woodwork by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030791251/"><img alt="Olkhon Island Woodwork" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2461/4030791251_07c790712b.jpg" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><a title="2 by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030791181/"><img alt="2" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2637/4030791181_e93e33036d.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />One evening, with beers in hand, we found ourselves sitting in the precisely carved chairs across from some Slovenian travelers and their wine. I got out my <em>Eastern Europe Lonely Planet </em>and I learned where Slovenia was and all that it seemed to offer. We told these other travelers that we probably would come there and that they would be hearing from us in a couple months.Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-91284309908335652072010-02-24T07:59:00.009+09:002010-03-01T08:43:32.384+09:00Border Crossing 8/11- 8/12On the morning of August 12th Brad woke me up, letting me know he saw Lake Baikal and it was probably about time to get off the train.<br /><a title="2 by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030785605/"><img alt="2" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2574/4030785605_fbbdef5b8b.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />The previous morning we thought we would have our own train cabin on the ride from Ulan Batur to Irkutsk, Russia. We were the only people in our four person cabin as we rode through Mongolia. The windows did not open and the conductors continued to close our cabin door. After we played a few rounds of cards it was obvious that if we stayed perfectly still we would be less hot. And as we laid there I thought it was only fair that I too remove my shirt. In fear that we would suffocate I got out my fan. As I lay on one side of the cabin, Brad in the other, both of us shirtless and me waving a fan, a Mongolian passenger opened the door, visibly annoyed that we were occupying the entire cabin. I put my shirt on and the male and female Mongolian pair brought all their luggage into the cabin.<br /><br /><a title="2 by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030785657/"><img alt="2" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2699/4030785657_188a5feaf0.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />Our cabin mates did not speak English, but we slowly learned much about them. Upon first glance they seemed to be mother and son. The closer we got to the border the more stuff this pair pulled out, primarily clothes. They began stuffing these clothes into the clothes they were already wearing. The woman was putting socks down her pants. And the boy small pants under his own. We were sharing the cabin with smugglers. As we walked around the train car it was clear that every Mongolian person on the train was a smuggler. The mother and son pair put a leather jacket on our side of the cabin, to make it appear to be ours. As we got closer the duo filled out customs forms. And once that was all finished they could only wait and relax. The boy then put his feet on the woman's lap and she began stroking them. It was then clear that it was not a mother and son pair.<br />We had been warned about Russian customs officers. But, at this point, I was far more nervous for the smugglers than our legitimate documents. Somehow our cabin mates and the rest of the smugglers on the train were let past border patrol. We then all had to get off the train and wait while train cars were changed before we entered Russia.<br /><br /><a title="Trans-Siberian Express by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030785703/"><img alt="Trans-Siberian Express" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2650/4030785703_fec763dd04.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a>Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-7454048178550765802010-02-23T05:58:00.011+09:002010-03-01T08:41:08.129+09:00Pick Pockets 8/4- 8/11The following morning we ate our last meal at Mr. Lee's, a Chinese fast food restaurant. It was August 4th and our across the globe train journey was beginning. We boarded the train for a thirty hour ride to Mongolia's capital city, Ulan Bator.<br /><br /><a title="Train Photos by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3922438223/"><img alt="Train Photos" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3477/3922438223_0a086e5fa6.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />Our train ride to Mongolia was beautiful and pleasant. We shared a four person berth with just one other Mongolian woman. She was composed, quiet and sweet. She reminded me of a Japanese woman. She told us that Russia was dangerous and Ulan Batuar was even more so. She was married to a Korean man and they were living in China. She was speaking Korean on the phone to him and English to us. She spoke Mongolian to the train conductor and studied Chinese in college. We ate in the restaurant car separately and drank instant coffee in the berth together. When I finished Jhumpa Lahiri's <em>The Namesake</em> I gave the book to the Mongolian woman, she read it faster than I.<br /><a title="Restaurant Car by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3923245154/"><img alt="Restaurant Car" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3534/3923245154_6352791eae.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />We crossed the border at Erlian China and arrived in Mongolia in the middle of the night. The following morning Brad and I stuck our heads out the window with the other Western tourists and admired the open fields that are rare in the parts of Asia we had traveled.<br /><a title="Trans-Siberian Railway by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3923294082/"><img alt="Trans-Siberian Railway" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2598/3923294082_e6ab590f30.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />The train was relaxing. Everyone ate and slept. I read and wrote in my journal while Brad listened to music and put his fleece on as it slowly got cooler. It made Beijing feel even more hot and crowded. I thought about how I never wanted to live in a city. And, as I expected, my fond memories of Ikeda were beginning.<br />When we got off the train in Ulan Batur my first impression was that it was incredibly shady. It seemed to be where the East and West were colliding. In my experience, people in Asia do not take things that do not belong to them with as much aggression as people do in the West. But, in Ulan Batur people were ready to use scams, weapons, or any other method that could get them the things they wanted. Our hostel had a sign that suggested people do not to go out after midnight. And most establishments warned people about pickpockets. A little after sunset Brad and I were walking back to the hostel as a man attempted to stick his hand in my purse. Brad noticed and he pulled it away without any other care. Moments later a group of kids threw rocks at us.<br /><br /><a title="Warnings by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031153176/"><img alt="Warnings" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2776/4031153176_d0ab4186de.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />We quickly took an opportunity to go to Terelj National Park, about 37 kilometers from Ulan Batur, to stay in a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yurt">yurt </a>with a Mongolian family. When we arrived it was rainy. Everyone was escorted into different yurts. Brad and I were the last two and we got to hang out in the family yurt. When we walked in the teenage kids turned off the television and straightened up the living room. We told them the television was fine. Then we laid down on some blankets and watched American movies that were dubbed in Mongolian.<br /><br /><a title="Yurt Dogs by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030398675/"><img alt="Yurt Dogs" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2435/4030398675_d9cdd96d7e.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />The inside of the yurt was like living in an elegant tent.<br /><a title="Yurt Sleeping by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3922512565/"><img alt="Yurt Sleeping" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2488/3922512565_0a45ef2f70.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br /><a title="British Girls in Yurt by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4030398831/"><img alt="British Girls in Yurt" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3486/4030398831_93fd046f25.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />When the rain cleared up we went on a short hike and rode horses. That evening we hung out with the cute Mongolian baby who lived in the cluster of yurts we were staying in.<br /><br /><a title="3 by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031153066/"><img alt="3" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2777/4031153066_2277af5a50.jpg" width="375" height="500" /></a><br /><br />The following morning when a van came to pick up those who wanted to leave, Brad and I made the easy decision to ride back to Ulan Batur.<br /><br />The rest of our time in Ulan Batur was spent wearing money belts and wondering around the city. We returned to the same French cafe consecutive mornings. It was August 8th and I was sitting in that cafe around noon with Brad. He was studying <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cyrillic">Cyrillic</a> and I was reading <em>The Diary of Anne Frank</em>. I wanted to finish that book quickly because it made me feel like a twelve year old as I was reading it. But, it can capture anyones heart. I could not keep my eyes off the pages of the book and Brad told me he was getting Cyrillic. As I sat there in that coffee shop my backpack and everything that matter was in a hostel dorm room and I thought about how I wanted my life to resemble this. Saturdays at noon in a familiar coffee shop with a partner. But, as I write this, in a familiar coffee shop in Pittsburgh across from Brad, I want nothing more than to have a trip to look forward too. On the 11th we got a train to Russia. A Russian visa is not easy to acquire. And we were excited to use ours.<br /><br /><a title="Backpacks by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/4031539670/"><img alt="Backpacks" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2604/4031539670_5290b871d3.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a>Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-79563756003545266892010-01-31T13:50:00.016+09:002010-03-01T08:37:03.110+09:00Heat in Beijing 8/01- 8/04Japan was just as hot as China in August. But the smog, trash, and street life made Beijing feel like the hottest place on earth. Brad and I stayed at the Far East Hostel in Beijing. Which was just a short walk from Tiananmen Square.<br /><a title="2 by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3922374033/"><img alt="2" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3535/3922374033_99e14e0f11.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />On the evening of our first full day in Beijing we made the long walk to the rail station. We walked there as the sun was setting and it was concluded that in Beijing private life and public life exists in the same space. Not far from China is Japan where people eat in separate rooms in a restaurant. But, in Beijing, we saw women washing clothes in front of their homes and a man fondling a woman at dusk in a public park.<br />Once we got to the rail station we weaved in and out of the people sleeping on cardboard boxes and diverted our eyes from the old woman who pulled her shirt up to her chin to fan herself. After an outdoor beer it only felt right if one of us walked home shirtless. And that night we slept on a bed with the air conditioning on high.<br /><a title="Shirt-less City by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3922369517/"><img alt="Shirt-less City" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3435/3922369517_421eeb8017.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />Fate timed everything perfectly the following day when we got on the same late bus to the Simatai section of the Great Wall as those French sisters. I sipped a coke and waved a fan, in attempts to fight off inevitable motion sickness that would find me in the back of that Chinese bus. We were then ushered off the bus and into a van with two blonde girls from France. The older of the sisters begin to negotiate the price in Chinese. The driver's voice raised as the French's girls did. She told us that there were no more buses back to Beijing. Brad and I had train tickets to Mongolia for early the following morning. After yelling and finger wagging a price was negotiated that would get us to see the Great Wall and a ride home that evening.<br /><br /><a title="Fluent in Chinese Friend by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3922397851/"><img alt="Fluent in Chinese Friend" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3173/3922397851_6247c19651.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />After the French girls yelled and screamed in Chinese they ran up the stairs of the Great Wall to beat the sunset. Brad and I found level ground. I admired the view and hemp leaves next to the wall.<br /><br /><a title="2 by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3922418853/"><img alt="2" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3467/3922418853_edc99d24a5.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br /><a title="Let my hair down by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3923195002/"><img alt="Let my hair down" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3593/3923195002_a9f08beaba.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />The frantic Chinese driver called the French girl's phone and we had to run back down the stairs to catch the driver before he went back to Beijing as he had picked up more passengers.<br /><br /><a title="Fluent in Chinese Friend by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3923172096/"><img alt="Fluent in Chinese Friend" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3612/3923172096_3da5e3d9a4.jpg" width="500" height="375" /></a><br />On the way back we veered in and out of dogs and bricks in the road. The driver stopped to get a sausage. Of all the truck beds and minivans I have ridden in in Asia this ride back to Beijing was the most horrifying of my life. The driver seemed to have a death wish on everyone in that car. But, we made it. We saw the Great Wall, there were no crowds, and I got some good pictures and being there was just really nice.Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-23384596140688910922010-01-31T12:44:00.010+09:002010-03-01T08:32:57.823+09:00The Bus Out 8/01/09My last evening in Japan was spent with Brad's wonderful Japanese teacher, Mirori Sensei at Cafe Bubo in Naruto. She corrected the way I held my chopsticks. I had held them incorrectly for two years. Then we went back to Sarah's apartment where I shoved that Care Bear I won in Tokyo into my last box to America and I figured out how to use my new fancy camera.<br /><a title="new camera by miss.caity, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3923095758/"><img alt="new camera" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3428/3923095758_c2bc3c3ab8.jpg" width="375" height="500" /></a><br />That was six months ago. It was really hot and I had a lot of money. Tonight my back is up against the radiator and I have exactly four dollars in my wallet for bus fare for Monday. The last moments I spent in Japan were perfect. I went out to lunch wearing a tank top and tight shorts. Women commented on my <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">summer attire</span> I understood this subtlety. I had just stopped caring.<br /><br />Brad and I set a $50 per day budget for our trip and a goal that after we left the Beijing airport we would not arrive at another airport until we left for America, whenever that may be. We had a plane ticket to Beijing and from there a train ticket to Mongolia. We had an approximate date we would arrive in Prague to see my host family. And a lot of stuff we wanted to do and learn as we traveled across the world.<br /><br />Brad's supervisor was one of the many people at the bus stop to see us off. She brought the new Naruto English teacher's. They looked confused, bored, and hot. We waved to them from the bus that was taking us to the airport and I was thrilled to know I would never feel the way those new people were feeling again.Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-81654579610216929352009-07-27T17:39:00.003+09:002009-07-27T18:37:13.993+09:00kiotskete neMy internet will be turned off tomorrow so I suppose I should take this moment to write one last blog while in Japan. But I am really tired from crying at work and having the craziest karaoke time ever last night. I woke up this morning feeling like I had been beaten up. That is how crazy the karaoke got.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3760086250/" title="teeth sucking emotion by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2428/3760086250_28b1dc5f23.jpg" alt="teeth sucking emotion" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3759289951/" title="Fan by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2443/3759289951_297a1c7d57.jpg" alt="Fan" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />It is strange saying goodbye to things and people that I know I will probably never see again. People that I am sure I will not even have a chance meeting with because they will just go on doing their thing over here in Asia while I will be millions of miles away. It is stressful to have my work basically dictate everything about leaving this country at this point. But, I do feel incredibly lucky to have worked with some of the people I did. Especially the woman I worked with at the Junior High School for these last two years. She is an amazing teacher and I know that if I had had her as a foreign language teacher while I was in Junior High School I would have felt much more enthusiastic about that subject.<br /><br />At least I do know I will be going out on a high note among the English teacher community in Tokushima. In some superlatives I walked away with best dancer, best dressed, and best personality. I think superlatives are a little dumb and I did not vote for anything. But, I will be real, when I heard about my big wins I basically thought that high school can suck and then I felt good about myself.<br /><br />And saying goodbye to my foreigner friends is just really really sad because there are a couple of them that I just really like. I know I will see the important ones again. But, we will probably never get naked in a bath together again or casually eat dinner while sitting under the kotatsu.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3759287387/" title="Bar G by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2555/3759287387_fa5c228d87.jpg" alt="Bar G" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3759286813/" title="sweet ladies by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3418/3759286813_7c9bf0a6c7.jpg" alt="sweet ladies" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />And these are some of the most genuinely <span style="font-weight: bold;">kind</span> people I have met.Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-71246462647258144322009-07-23T00:52:00.003+09:002009-07-23T01:36:38.198+09:00What I Have versus What I Do Not HaveI have a lot of things I need to do. I do not have much time to do them. I need to be out of my apartment on July 28th. At which time I will no longer have a place to live. I do have a one way ticket to Beijing and a train ticket to Mongolia. Soon I will not have a job or health insurance. But, I did have the chance to do this:<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3745772885/" title="Pass the Mic by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2465/3745772885_16e96c0611.jpg" alt="Pass the Mic" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3746565886/" title="Josh by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2456/3746565886_3bf469730e.jpg" alt="Josh" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3745774957/" title="The finger and floor by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2557/3745774957_1b5d88eb29.jpg" alt="The finger and floor" width="500" height="375" /></a><br /><br />Which was important because it was really fun.Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-17230719731974209972009-07-17T23:54:00.012+09:002009-07-18T14:55:47.646+09:00Meditating on the GoodThis past week has been full of goodbye ceremonies. From Tuesday- Friday I went to a different school and was involved in some sort of ceremony. The most fun was certainly at Kawasaki Elementary School. There are only 10 students at that school and they did two dances and we ate homemade cake. Everything about that afternoon was just about perfect.<br />On Thursday, Hakuchi Elementary School held a farewell ceremony for both myself and another Japanese English Teacher. The students and teachers at Hakuchi have been wonderful these past two years. I wrote a speech in English and a Japanese friend kindly helped me translate it. I said it first in English and then in Japanese.<br />Both <a href="http://juliamushalko.wordpress.com/2008/10/07/if-it-must-be-so/">Julia</a> and <a href="http://direnzi.blogspot.com/2009/07/saying-goodbye-in-between-million-other.html">Brad</a> have inspired me to write my farewell speech on my blog. I will write it in English only because, honestly, it is when I read the English words that I began cry and felt sincerely moved. I could have written so many things to this school but I kept it simple do to the fact that I had to read the Japanese and I wanted some people to understand the English.<br /><br />Hakuchi Elementary School,<br />The first time I came here I was nervous. I remember meeting Morimoto Sensei and she said I looked very young. I was worried I could not be your English teacher. But everyone was very nice. Soon I felt welcomed.<br />When I came to Japan I thought I might be lonely because I was far away from home. I lived alone for the first time and I did not know anyone in Ikeda.<br />Because all of you always chatted with me, I felt comfortable and happy at school. I was not lonely.<br />Sometimes Japanese people seem to be nervous when they talk with foreigners. The teachers and students at Hakuchi Elementary School were not nervous. All the students talked to me. Now, everyone at this school can speak English to foreigners. All of the teachers can easily have conversations in English. And that made me feel very welcomed here.<br />Thursday became my favorite day of the week. Thank you very much for welcoming me into your community. I will remember you forever. I will miss Hakuchi Elementary School very much. <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />____________________________________________________________________<br /></span><br />On my last Thursday at Hakuchi, students continued to hand me origami and personal notes. Girls told me again and again (in English) that they loved me. And unlike most people in this culture the students at this school give and get hugs. While I understood the significance of the ten year old who deeply bowed to me at other schools, the hugs I received at Hakuchi felt really good. The teachers also find it endearing that these students love hugs.<br />At the end of the day I ate cake with the teachers in the staff room. I said a few more words and the principle and two of my favorite teachers walked me to my car. After I put everything in my car I gave them each a hug. I drove off, feeling overwhelming sad that I may never see them again<br /><br />On Friday, I asked the Japanese English teacher at the Jr. High to call my supervisor to tell her that I will have no where to stay once the new English teacher moves into my apartment. The only thing that was resolved from that call was that she can not help me close my bank account.<br /><br />I went to a final work party last night. I thought I was going to walk out of there and feel more accomplished than I felt when I graduated from college. Instead, I spent time at the party talking about the many things that I need help with in my last few weeks here. My supervisor is refusing to speak with me directly because she finds it to hard to communicate with foreigners and others talk about how busy they are. Luckily, I have slowly found resources.<br /><br />Feeling like I am putting others at such an inconvenience is defeating to say the least. One of the many things I have learned in the last two years is that Japan can be a xenophobic country. I have been refused at restaurants, told I am 'thin for an American', and had $200 taken from my wallet because people did not want to ask me for it directly.<br /><br />But, for now, in these last two trying weeks, I am really attempting to meditate on the good things that have happened in the last two years. Because there have been plenty. The grandmother of a special needs student at one of my schools engraved my initials on a wallet. I have never met this woman but when I received this gift I thought that some of these students might genuinely remember me as a good teacher.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3729703804/" title="100_5480 by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3520/3729703804_b236715c5c.jpg" alt="100_5480" width="500" height="375" /></a>Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1788836133199610882.post-89130927757697681152009-07-07T21:53:00.002+09:002009-07-07T22:43:12.738+09:00TanabataThis <a href="http://misscaity.blogspot.com/2008/07/lot-of-desires-are-put.html">Tanabata</a> I wished for an interesting and healthy future. Tanabata is up there in my top favorite holidays. Having the chance to legitimately make a wish is an incredibly hopeful feeling.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/misscaity/3697190003/" title="Tanabata by miss.caity, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2673/3697190003_331682ffde.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="Tanabata" /></a>Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05321440981940040253noreply@blogger.com0