Spring Break, Part I

"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you just might miss it." Tonight, I'm enjoying a nice meal, listening to music, and reflecting on possibly the most earth shattering few weeks of my life. After countless train/bus/plane rides, new people, an eclectic array of cities and sights, couch/hostel/hotel crashes, and an emotional rollercoaster ride, I need a few days to sort these experiences out in my mind. In a week, I'll be in Ireland... then Brussels & Amsterdam... then Switzerland... then.... who knows?

My most recent adventure began on March 20. Steve and I had backed out of our Bulgaria, Romania, and Istanbul plan (flights were too expensive) and opted instead for Italy, falsely assuming the weather would be pleasant. We paid only about $100 for a round trip flight but we really didn't adequately prepare ourselves for a 10 day ass fucking on behalf of a currency known as the Euro. After a brief and unfulfilling sleep, I awoke to darkness at 4 AM and made my way to the airport. Steve and I missed our 4:50 metro ride and caught the next one at 5:00... ten minutes that, in hindsight, could have cost us dearly. The commute to the airport was misery beyond description... After sprinting through an endless procession of terminals, we arrived at the SkyEurope desk at about 6:00 and our flight was scheduled to depart at 6:20. The receptionist reluctantly granted us our boarding passes and the sprint to the plane continued. I kinda felt like I was in a tightly edited, fast paced, action sequence in a film. Just as the gates were about to close, we slipped onto the plane and high fived... said "fuck, yeah" multiple times.

Our first impression of Milan was indifference. The city, an economic hub situated just to the south of the Italian alps, lacked aesthetically pleasing architecture. Like Dresden and Berlin, Milan had apparently experienced the wrath of the U.S. Air Force during WWII. We arrived at our hostels and discovered that the receptionists knew little, if any, English. They offered us breakfast for 2 or 3 euros, which amounted to undrinkable coffee and pre-packaged toast and a croissant. As I attempted to spread margarine on the "toast," the food crumbled into a saw dust-like consistency. I turned to Steve with a demoralized look and chuckled. No doubt, this hostel was about as shitty as they come. Or so we thought in that moment...

Steve and I spent a mild and sunny afternoon on top of the Milan cathedral, the third largest in the world, discussing God and other such things. The cathedral offered 360 degree panoramic views of the city from countless vantage points. I had felt flu-like most of the day and the two of us didn't feel like staying out late, so we decided to make it an early night and head back to the hostel. I read a couple pages of Band of Brothers and passed our cold. I awoke the next morning to discover another human in a bunk across the room. When this person regained consciousness, he identified himself as Jerry and spoke with a British accent. When Steve, Jerry, and I attempted to exit our room, we discovered the door had no handle and we were locked inside. After a brief panic, assuming we would be subjected to a violent and torturous death, as depicted in the film"Hostel," we decided to climb out our window (thankfully we were only on the first floor). We spent the day walking around Milan with Jerry exchanging stories of our travels. Jerry had recently been and Rome and seemed to have enjoyed his experience, but told a shockingly horrible story: he had been walking down a street in Rome and observed some commotion ahead -- traffic moving erratically and a motionless object in the road. Upon closer examination, Jerry discovered that this object was a middle aged woman who had been run over by a vehicle. Blood had splattered the pavement, a bone was protruding from her flesh, and her foot was detached from her body. According to Jerry, the car responsible had vacated the scene of the accident, and no motorists had stopped to assist this potentially mortally wounded woman. Eventually, ambulances arrived but Jerry wasn't sure if the woman lived or not. It never ceases to amaze me how inhumane people can be toward one another and how easy it is for individuals to adopt a herd mentality.

That night, Steve and I boarded a train and departed for Florence. Because we paid such a low cost for our train ticket, we didn't get a reservation. After twenty minutes of riding, other passengers boarded and confiscated my seat, forcing me to wander from cart to cart, then eventually stand for the remainder of the three hour journey. We arrived in Florence to a torrential downpour and plodded through the streets in search of our campsite on the outskirts of the city. Unfortunately, I had neglected to bring adequate footwear. Stuck with my inadequate, shredded shoes, I plopped through mud puddles and quickly drenched my socks. After a couple hours of walking (public transit appeared non-existant) we arrived at the campsite and were guided to a non-insulated, canvas, tent-like apparatus with a couple bunk beds with thin sheets. Steve and I hung our wet clothes and crawled into our bunks and experienced a thoroughly unpleasant and frigid evening. When we awoke the next morning, my clothes (and most importantly socks) were still damp and unwearable. I switched to a fresh pair of socks, but within a few minutes of walking around in the morning, they were completely drenched. I felt like a GI in the first few days of a tour in Vietnam, slugging through the mud on the verge of contracting gangreen or trench foot.

That morning, I was struggling to store my stuff in a locker, which only offered instructions in Italian, and met a wildly energetic, random, and extroverted girl from Seattle named Miriam. She asked me if she could store her giant backpack in my tent. I saw no problem with this but was a little surprised this girl, who I had known for about ten minutes, was so trustworthy of others. She told me she had been crashing on couches for about two months, mostly around France and England, that she had never attended high school, and lived her life on the road. I wondered how this girl, who looked to be about 15 or 16 (I later learned she was 18), could financially support herself for so long... I also wondered what she was running from. The answer to my first question was answered. I still don't know the answer to the second.

Miriam, Steve, and I walked over to a nearby bluff and I was blown away by the sheer beauty of Florence. While Milan seemed like a modern, industrial hub, Florence was a historical gem with most every building preserved from the Renaissance. We walked down the hill and encountered mobs of tourists along the Arno River, and crossed over Ponte Vecchio (Old Bridge), one of the most well known parts of the city. We decided to find a restaurant off the beaten path, but Miriam insisted that we make it quick so she could get to The Duomo (cathedral) in time for "Free Hugs Day." I'm still baffled by the phenomenon, but she claimed it was an event in which scores of tourists congregate and hug each other for "free." Suffice to say, I wasn't too ecstatic about the idea...

What the fuck is this? Into the Wild?

How can I summarize my experience in Europe so far? In short, it's a non-stop party, a celebration that never seems to end. My group contains only about 40 people, but it seems like a bunch of us are out and about practically every night. Though we live in apartments scattered around Prague, most everybody has cell phones, AIM, or skype which makes communication easy. Most of the kids live in the Sklep/Astra area about a 15 minute walk from my apartment at Namesti Miru (or Francouszka street). I feared that the 4 of us at Namesti Miru would be isolated, but it's actually quite nice to have a quiet and comfortable place to return to when we need some down time. I feel like I'm really starting to solidify some quality friendships with many of the kids in my group. Pretty much everybody has unique interesting attributes and everybody gets along well. It's also so cool to meet kids from all over the U.S. I'm one of about 4 kids from the Northeast, while the rest live out west. My apartment is a true melting pot -- I'm from Maine, Logan is from Texas, Jared is from Michigan, and Steve is from California. I guess if I ever take a road trip across America, I'll have plenty of places to crash!

The real highlight of the past couple of weeks was my 6 day trip to Germany with Steve. We left at midnight last Wednesday and arrived in Dresden, Germany around 3 AM. It was almost eerily quiet as we walked 45 minutes through town and across the river to reach our hostel. We spent the next day riding trams (and not paying) and exploring the city. The history of Dresden is pretty incredible -- up until World War II, the city apparently rivaled Prague as a cultural gem and amazing Baroque architecture. It was bombed only lightly throughout the war, then in February 1945, 1300 British and American planes bombed the living shit outta the place. 90 percent of the city center was destroyed and some 40,000 civillians were killed. I don't know, Germany. I guess what goes around comes around? Dresden fell under the Iron Curtain after World War II and stayed Communist until about 20 years ago. It's now a bustling city with most of its infrastructure fully restored. The major historical sites along the river (check out my pics on facebook or myspace) are extremely impressive and apparently weren't too badly damaged by World War II.

The first night in Dresden, Steve and I drank our faces off. I brought vodka along from the Czech Republic, where it is infinitely cheaper, to save money. Beer was less expensive in Germany than I anticipated though, usually only 2 or 3 euros. That equates to 3 or 4 U.S. dollars though. Thanks to George Bush and the Republicans, traveling in Euro countries (pretty much all of Western Europe) is brutally expensive because of the tanking dollar, caused by massive trade and budget deficits... basically, let's spend billions of dollars on a pointless war in Iraq but not actually pay for it. Doesn't work out so well for us tourists in Europe. Anyway, we were intrigued by a little neon sign which said "Lebowski." We went in for a drink -- it was a little pub that had several screens playing "The Big Lebowski", I guess over and over, all night, everyday, with German subtitles. I thought that was pretty amusing. Next, we found ourselves at a "casual sex" club where girls show up all scantily clad looking for... casual sex. This may sound risque and exhilerating, but I wasn't really feeling the vibe. Next, we met some random Irish dudes and went to a karaoke club a few blocks away. Steve and I started chatting with a few Italian girls, but unfortunately I was stuck with the slam pig and Steve was with the cute one. Fuck it, I thought. I'd been having a little more success with girls in Europe than Steve and I figured I'd take one for the team tonight. To make matters worse, though, the Italian girl kept asking me to repeat every phrase I uttered. I realize I'm sort of a fast talker, but no matter how much I dumbed down my vocabulary and spoke in a stilted, monotone, robotic manner, she just couldn't understand me. I have to admit, the language barrier is sometimes the toughest thing to overcome. It's something one doesn't realize until they live in a non-English country. There is so much complexity to American English we sometimes don't realize. Just for a few examples, phrases such as: I'm all set, whatever floats your boat, I'm good, no shit, that's sweet, for sure, and a million other phrases will not be understood. So I usually end up just saying: you are very nice, that is good, what is Italy like?, etc. Speaking with people from Ireland, Scotland, England, Australia is of course much easier, but the slang is sometimes a problem both ways and some of the extremely rural accents can almost be indecipherable. Haha, I can't help but wonder what an "American accent" sounds like to somebody not from America.

Anyway, after a couple hours of tedious conversation, the Italians informed us that they had to leave. I couldn't have been more elated, but Steve somewhat understandably looked as if his dog had just died. Admitedly, the girl he was chillin' with was legitimately attractive and he really must've thought he had his foot in the door. "It's alright, man," I said. "You win some, you lose some. Soldier on!" He didn't seem to be receptive to my message. "What the fuck, man? All of that effort and no results... I don't feel like starting from square one." Pfft, I thought. The night was young and opportunity was endless. We ended up just pounding down more beers and bickering. I remember smoking cigarettes with some Russians later on and commenting on the election of the new president, Medvedev but they didn't even know who he was! Maybe I was pronouncing it wrong or something.

I awoke the next morning in a truly shocking amount of pain. This was not just a hangover. The past few days, I had felt the distinct malaise of an approaching flu. My excesses the previous evening had clearly brought this illness to fruition. Steve was impatient and wanted to hit the road to Berlin, but I literally was bed ridden. Somehow I dragged myself to the shower and down to the hostel lobby, where I quickly fell asleep sitting up. Somehow, I gritted my teeth, pulled myself up by the bootstraps, and continued on. The previous night, the receptionist girl at the hostel had recommended that we hitch hike on the Autobahn to get to Berlin and that we'd score a ride in "15 or 20 minutes." I knew Europe was far safer than America, with much less violent crime, plus the thrill of cruising 120 MPH on the Autobahn (no speed limit!) seemed irresistable. Steve and I found a couple large pieces of cardboard and wrote "B" and "Berlin" on each. We stood by a "petro" stop (or gas station) and watched an endless procession of cars roll by without stopping. We were about to give up after a half hour or so of public humiliation, then a large white van rolled up next to us. "Vwhere do you vwant to go?" A somewhat rotuned middle-aged German guy called over to us. "Ahhh... Berlin," I replied. "I'm going to Hollin," he said. We asked how far "Hollin" was from Berlin but he appeared not to know. In fact, it appeared that he didn't even know where Berlin was -- the capital of Germany and its largest city! "Thanks anyway," we said. We probably thought wisely not to hop in with this guy. It would be the equivalent of an American motorist in Connecticut or New Jersey not knowing where New York City was. That's just weird.

We tried hitching for another twenty minutes or so and finally gave up, very disappointed. We so desperately wanted to return to Prague with tales of a crazy Autobahn hitch hiking odyssey. As we walked to the train station, Steve made a hilarious comment: "Dude, we've been eating nothing but rice for the past few days, now we're trying to thumb it on the Autobahn... what the fuck is this, Into the Wild?" For those of you who haven't read the book or seen the movie (I highly recommend both), it's about a 22 year-old kid named Chris McCandless who graduates from Emory University in the early '90s, donated $15,000 of his savings to charity, cuts up his identification and credit cards, burns his Social Security card, and embarks on an epic journey across the American west. He works random jobs, meets a plethora of amazing people, hitch hikes, and sustains himself on a meager rice diet. His nomadic journey ended a couple of years later in the Alaskan wilderness, where he starved to death in an abandoned bus. Steve and I could only hope that we weren't headed down a similar path.

We arrived at the train station and reluctantly forked over 35 euros ($50) for a train ticket from Dresden to Berlin. Much to our satisfaction, the train was awesome. It had a restaurant and bar, the seats were comfortable and spacious, we could rest our feet on a table in between the seats, and the views of the German countryside were gorgeous. I commented a few times, "I'm diggin' the German countryside" and Steve seemed to be getting irritated that I "dug" it. We sat across from a Canadian ballet dancer who has lived the past few years in Hamburg, Germany. She and Steve had lots in common with their Christian faith. We told her we might take a day trip to Hamburg to visit but later discovered the trip would be too lengthy and expensive.

The Berlin train station was a sensory overload. "Steve, what year is it here? 2057?" I asked. The station was wide open with several different levels of trains whizzing in multiple directions. It took us surprisingly long to find our way out of this futuristic maze. We found our way to the Elbe River which runs through the heart of Berlin. I was initially surprised by the lack of historical architecture along the river. Almost all of it was impressive contemporary designs, which I hadn't seen anywhere in Europe or America. We cut behind the Reichstag (German parliamentary building) and made our way down a bustling trendy avenue leading to our hostel. Literally every establishment was a fine dining restaurant or up-scale pub, with tons of trendy and high rollin' Germans. My first thought about Berlin was that this place was dripping with cash.

Once we arrived at our hostel and stashed all of our belongings in the lockers, we hopped the tram a bunch of stops down the river to this club called Lido to see the band MGMT play for only 10 euros. If you haven't heard MGMT, I highly recommend it. They're from Brooklyn and have this really catchy tune called "Time to Pretend" which I imagine is getting a lot of attention in America. You can listen to it on my myspace page. Anyway, a shitty band from the UK opened. The band was most harmed by their overly theatrical eye shadow sporting singer who seemed unable to stay in key. The crowd could not possibly have been less enthused. People started pouring in between performances and by the time MGMT took the stage, we were standing shoulder to shoulder. Must've been several hundred people. I decided I liked about half of MGMT's songs -- the ones I did like I liked a lot, though. They were definitely air tight and comfortable playing live. I was also psyched that the singer/guitar player used the same effects pedals I use (Ibanez tube screamer and RAT distortion). For the encore, the band sang karaoke to their own song, which was pretty funny. Though it was my first night in Berlin, I decided to not drink so I could recover from my flu. We still ended up meeting a bunch of Americans studying abroad in Berlin and walked around town checking out clubs until 3 AM. I knew that when I went out the next night, I'd drop a decent amount of cash, as almost every club in the city was charging at least a 10 euro cover ($15) to get in.

The next day, I felt significantly better and Steve and I just walked around the city checking out the major sites. Berlin is so enormous that we barely even saw the tip of the iceberg. That night, we went to a club for only 6 euros called Skada. The club was packed and techno was blaring, but it was otherwise pretty uneventful. I devised a simple scheme to save money on the bar tab. The bar tenders would provide free beer for every 3 empty bottles one could return (the Germans are extremely environmentally conscious). So all I'd do was wander over to an abandoned table, snag a few bottles, and be treated to a Berliner Pilsner. Sounded like an acceptable deal to me!

I was very pleased to awake the next day feeling even more refreshed. How counterintuitive. I was still recovering from a flu, had gone out and drank my face off, but continued to feel more healthy. We spent a good portion of the afternoon waiting in line to get into the Reichstag. Huge crowds amass in front of this amazing old and beautiful building to receive free admission and walk up to the modern looking glass dome on top that offers an excellent view of Berlin. The long wait was definitely well worth it. The history of the Reichstag was pretty interesting -- it was used in the early 20th century when Germany was somewhat free. It has always been a symbol of German democracy. When the Nazis came to power, the Reichstag was abandoned and Hitler vowed never to set foot in the building. It is located in the East Berlin sector of the city and was not used by the Communist regime either. In 1999, a decade after Germany united, the parliament voted by a narrow margin to officially move the capital to Berlin and conduct their proceedings in the Reichstag.

Later in the afternoon, we considered going to the top of the TV tower, which I believe is the second highest structure in Europe. They were charging 10 euros, though, so we said fuck it. We were very clever and walked just a couple of blocks to the 40 story Park Inn, paid only 3 euros and enjoyed a superb view of the entire city, including the TV Tower.

That night, we were forced to choose between striking out on our own and trying to find the best clubs, or going on a pub crawl with an admissions price of 11 euros. We decided to head to the meeting place of the pub crawl to see if maybe it was worth it. At first, we saw only 10 excessively drunken and obnoxious American guys and were strongly considering abandoning the idea. Eventually, Steve talked me into forking over the cash. My first conversation was with a guy from Kansas who raved about the Red Light district in Amsterdam and how he fucked a "playboy" caliber hooker for 50 euros. Hmmm, I guess some people leave their dignity back in America. We headed to the first club, Zapata, where we found literally 75 college age kids drinking from a free keg provided by the pub crawl. But shit, we were too late and the keg was tapped. Story of my life. We pounded down a bunch of 1 euro shots of Jagermeister. Surprisingly enough, it was the first time in my life I'd drank the liquor and I've still yet to be treated to the famous "Jager bomb." My last experience with energy drinks and hard liquor didn't end so well, though I'm told it's a lot like being coked up. Cool, I guess? Anyway, we started meeting some cool people back packing around Europe. We bounced around to a few more clubs and the crew was growing increasingly fucked up. We'd meet outside each club and the 2 pub crawl leaders would open back packs full of vodka and orange juice. Crowds would amass around the 2 leaders as they poured the shots one by one. It was a lot like they were Messiahs, with worshipers crowding around to taste the blood of Christ. I was kind of pissed when I took my shot and realized that the OJ and Vodka combo was heavily watered down. Waiting around to drink was pointless, so I just bought big tasty beers from venders on the street and slammed them down.

At the next club, I was talking with someone about the Democratic Primary and rambling on about my love for Obama. "I love Obama!" I heard an Irish female voice chime in. She introduced herself as Fiona Hayden (could that name possibly be more Irish??) and we talked about politics and history for at least a couple hours. We were immersed in conversation, and by the time I looked up to investigate my surroundings, I was pretty drunk and most of the fellow pub crawlers had taken off. Soon I found myself sitting on a couch making out with Fiona and was relieved that she kissed like a normal person. Some of the other European girls I've kissed I think have literally tried to eat my face off. Fiona and I left the club around 4 or 5 and started a long and unsuccessful search for a hotel. Probably wouldn't have been the smartest financial decision. And shit, I realized, where was Steve? We had decided that if the two of us got lost or split up, we'd use facebook as a means for communication and meet at the Brandenburg gate. Fiona and I finally gave up on the hotel search and flagged down a cab. We rode through the heart of Berlin and I nervously eyed the cab meter. It climbed to 10 euros, then to 15, then 20. Though the views of the city from the highway were spectacular, we were cruising for at least 30 or 40 minutes and by the time we arrived at Fiona's hostel in suburban Berlin, the fare was at 37 euros. Ouch. But to my surprise, Fiona paid it all herself and didn't ask me to contribute. Not so classy of me, I guess.

When I woke up the next morning, there was an Irish kid sitting on me and claiming that I was in Dublin. I was very disoriented. Fiona and I and a few of her fellow Irish travelers decided to walk to the bus stop and head to the Brandenburg for a "free" tour of Berlin. I was kind of skeptical, as I've never encountered a service anywhere in the world that is actually free. I was relieved to meet at the Gate and find Steve waiting for me. He gave me a semi-disappointed but unsurprised look, which said, "you getting lost has happened before, and it'll happen again." I was glad that he was at least somewhat accepting of my antics.

The tour was nothing short of spectacular. The guide was this English guy probably in his early '30s. He single handedly made me reconsider my prejudice toward British people. All the other Brits I've met in Prague have been ignorant, combative, drunken assholes with their stupid, annoying accents. This guy, however, was one of the most charismatic and well informed speakers I've ever heard (not quite Obama caliber, though). He was entertaining, charming, hilarious. By the end of it, Steve and I were lamenting on how we'd never be as cool or intelligent as this guy. My favorite part of the tour was "Hitler's bunker" -- where Hitler committed suicide as Soviet troops invaded Berlin. The funny thing about visiting Hitler's bunker is that it is probably superficially the most unremarkable site in Europe. In fact, walking by it or over it, you'd never know it was even there. Only five years ago did Berlin agree to put a small sign up marking where it was located. Apparently, the bunker is still fairly intact, but contemporary Germany did not want to recognize it in any way. They feared that weirdos and Neo-Nazis might visit the bunker and spray paint pro-Hitler graffiti which would attract unpleasant media attention and hurt the image of contemporary Germany. Somewhat understandable, I guess. Must be hard for the rest of the world to fully trust you when an entire generation of your grandfathers murdered 6 million Jews and started a world war. The tour guide offered a pretty funny anecdote -- just one block to the left was an amazing solemn memorial to the murdered Jews of Europe, straight ahead was a gay sauna, and the block to the left had a multi-ethnic kindergarten. The grass above Hitler's bunker was smeared with dirt and dog shit. Surrounding Hitler's final dwelling was everything he hated and wanted to wipe off the face of the world. Good riddance, Hitler.

After the tour, Steve and I had to split with Fiona to get our stuff at our hostel but promised we'd meet her at the Brandenburg gate at 8:30 PM. Unfortunately, I'm the least punctual person on the planet and didn't arrive at the Gate until about 9 PM, by which point Fiona had obviously left. Now I looked like the kid whose dog had just died. To make matters worse, Steve chided me for my lack of punctuality and carelessness. "Girls don't like guys who don't even show up on time." Jeeze, Steve. Way to pour salt on the wound. I was pretty bummed the rest of the night but then on the way back to Prague, Fiona texted me and apologized thinking she had somehow screwed things up. The next day in Prague, I called her and told her I'd meet up with her in Dublin in late April. Steve and I plus our friend Tom found airline tickets for $90 roundtrip! We're going to check out these other places Fiona recommended -- the cities of Galway and Cork -- plus the western Irish coast. It should be spectacular.

The coming month is going to be absolute madness. On March 20, a few of us are going to Italy for spring break and we plan on visiting Milan and Rome and maybe Florence and Venice. From April 4-8 the entire group is visiting Vienna, Austria; Budapest, Hungary; and Bratislava, Slovakia. On April 11, we all go to Kutna Hora, Czech Republic. April 17-22 is my Ireland trip and the 23-27 is Brussels, Belgium and Amsterdam! It's crazy to think of how much I'm going to experience in the coming weeks.

Wow, this was a long entry. For the few of you who read this blog, I'll keep you updated on my upcoming travels. I hope all is well back in America.

back up and running

It looks like, long last, I will be able to abandon my exclusive rice and water diet now that I've received my credit card and debit card in the mail. I ran out of Krouns about a week ago -- had no more cell phone minutes, no skype minutes, no food, no beer, nothing. Bumming off friends got me by for a few days but quickly became demoralizing and pathetic, so I resigned to just "living life on the other side of the tracks." Real people are forced to live with nothing on a daily basis. I knew a few days wouldn't hurt me. Now that I finally have a plethora of cash, I can appreciate it all the more. I went to the grocery store today to load up on food (so as to avoid expensive restaurant outings) and bought a shit ton of cheap beer for about 4 krouns each... all in all, you can manage 20 beers for about $4. The second you step outside the Czech Republic, though, the Euro kicks your ass. I'm hoping to stick to this responsible fiscal outlook. I have a number of trips planned over the next couple months. If everything goes as planned, I'll check out: Dresden and Berlin, Germany; Sofia, Buglaria; Bucharest, Romania; Istanbul, Turkey; Budapest, Hungary; Vienna, Austria; Bratislava, Slovakia; Dublin, Ireland; and Amsterdam, the Netherlands; and some other places around the Czech Republic.

Since I've been in Europe, I've felt invincible. Classes are a joke. I've yet to crack a book or face a single homework assignment. The only "work" required is showing up to class and maybe offering a few anecdotes to a class discussion. On the typically low-key days of Monday-Wednesday, I take black and white shots of Prague (later get to develop them in the school's dark room), cook up good foods, go out to see movies, and hit up pubs. Now that the "long weekend" of Thursday - Sunday has arrived, the sky is the limit. Last weekend, I went to this club called Duplex overlooking Wenceslas Square. Typically, the cover is at least $15 but I met this cool American couple who knew a DJ and got in for free. That didn't save me from the ridiculous $6 12 oz. Pilsner Urquells (the highest priced I've seen in Prague). This couple I met was really inspiring -- they told me about their travels to The Middle East and explained that they basically work 6 months, travel 6 months. They started their own "pub crawl" business in Prague and said they were looking for 1 guy and 1 girl to lead some tours and were interested in hiring me. Might be a way for me to stay in Europe for the summer.

It's been pretty low key these past few weeks given my dire financial circumstances... but now that I'm rolling in cash, it should be a damn fun weekend.

What is she talking about?

Obama won big tonight in Wisconsin.

"It is not just about words, but about work," Says Hillary Clinton. Can somebody explain to me what exactly Hillary has accomplished in her short tenure as a NY U.S. Senator? She constantly portrays herself as some sort of seasoned political veteran having fought the good fight and having overcome all odds to deliver good deeds to the American people... but.... ahhh, what the fuck is she referring to? If somebody could direct me to some monumental (Hillary) Clinton victory over the Republicans I would be really psyched.

What is Hillary's experience? She hasn't even served one full term more than Obama in the Senate. Last I checked, the role of first lady is not an elected position. This "I am more experienced" argument is making me sick. If she has more meaningful experience, she must identify what specifically that is. Otherwise, I'm left to assume she's referring to her unaccoutanble role as first lady, in which she left a significant number of Americans unimpressed and angry with her actions.

Hillary appears to relish the mud slinging in American politics. Everything I've gathered from her campaign is that she enjoys demonizing Republicans and drawing fault lines on American soil to ensure that the Clinton dynasty continues to prevail. It's absolutely abhorrent. Kudos to Wisconsin voters tonight. I hope Obama continues to show remaining voters politics doesn't need to be so tired and cynical.

Clinton Camp Implosion?

I'm surprised that many commentators (particularly in the blogosphere) are suddenly writing of a "desperate" Clinton camp resorting to daily sleazy attacks to bring down Obama. I still think it's totally possible for a Clinton revival (possibly with a win in Wisconsin tonight) but Clintons' recent bizarre tactics should be no surprise to anyone who's followed this race over the past year. Ever since Obama's Iowa win, Bill, Hillary, her campaign apparatus, her surrogates, etc. have launched every swift boat style attack I imagine Obama will experience in the general election. The most unfortunate result of this has been the failure of much of the Democratic establishment and the Democratic electorate to reject Clintons' dirty politics.

Why wasn't the Democratic Party repulsed immediately when Bill Clinton went on the attack, accusing of Obama's war opposition as nothing more than a "fairy tale." Here's the thrust of Bill Clinton's argument: Yes, Obama initially opposed the war but he has no right to tout his leadership skills on this issue because his position has been the same as Hillary's over the past few years. Obviously, Bill Clinton himself knows this logic is dubious. The primary weakness of the Democratic Party in years past has been the inability to provide convincing and consistent leadership on controversial issues, particularly foreign policy matters. When it comes down to it, the only truly meaningful time to alter America's foreign policy since 9-11 was when the Congress voted to authorize the Iraq War. Ever since, Congress has only been able to vote on funding, withdrawal timetables, benchmarks, etc. Any chance that the latter two could impact Bush's policy have been torpedoed by Republican filibusters and voting against funding the troops would understandably be political suicide. In short, Congress has had its hands tied. Despite the election of the Democratic majority in 2006, it has been very clear that our Iraq policy will not change until we have a new president in 2009. So what is Bill Clinton suggesting -- that Obama should have voted against funding? That because the 2002 authorization vote is behind us, it's no longer relevant? It's easy to imagine how the Clinton camp would have responded had Obama actually consistenly voted against funding. Just take a look at the Karl Rove "support the troops" playbook if you need any ideas. It's clear that regardless of any position Obama took on Iraq after his initial opposition, the Clinton campaign would have attacked.



For the Clintons, running for president has nothing to do with principle or giving credit where credit is due. It's a game to them. So instead of reasonably applauding Obama, they attempt to use one of his greatest strengths (his Iraq war opposition) to attack him. This has also been evident with Clintons' recent accusations that Obama has plagiarized, which has been laughed off by every reputable media outlet I've read over the last day. This attack is coming right after the public financing thing, in which the Clintons apparently want Obama to "keep his word" and use public financing in the general election. Again, this nomination process is not about what's right for the Democratic party or about beating the Republica in the general. It's about doing everything and anything to ensure the Clintons win. If I'm not mistaken, Obama has raised more money from small donors than any candidate in American history. If Obama beats Clinton, do they really want this massive fundraising advantage over the Republican Party to disappear? I honestly don't think they really care.

Then we have the Clinton campaign's assertion that Obama hasn't won any states that matter. As many bloggers have pointed out, apparently the states that "don't matter" are: southern states with too many black people, caucus states, traditionally red states and swing states (Virginia, South Carolina, Colorado, Washington, Idaho just to name a few). The states that matter are the states that any Democratic candidate is guaranteed to win in the general election (Mass., New York, California, New Jersey). I'm a little baffled as to how the Clintons expect the Democrats to build a new majority by insulting voters in states that aren't already blue... They seem to prefer a divisive bunker mentality pitting "us" against "them." I really don't see a distinction here between the Clintons and the Republicans.

What else shows us that the Clintons think they're entitled to the nomination? How about the fact that they will fight for every delegate (pledged delegates and superdelegates) including the ones in Michigan and Florida. They say they're just playing by the rules, but what about the fact that the DNC stripped Michigan and Florida of their delegates because they refused to move their primaries back to Super Tuesday? The first strategy -- doing whatever it takes to win delegates -- shows the Clintons don't care about what the people want. But hey, the Democratic Party made the rules so I suppose it's fair game. According to the Clinton campaign, however, when the Democratic Party does not make rules that are advantageous to a Clinton victory, the rules are bullshit (ie: seating Michigan and Florida's delegates).

I'm very excited to see how this race plays out. The Clintons have shown their true colors and it's up to the voters of Wisconsin, Hawaii, Texas, Ohio, Vermont, Rhode Island, and possibly other states to reject dirty politics. I, myself, have already made up my mind. I will not support Hillary in this election, nor in the general election. As a matter of principle (something the Clintons have repeatedly shown they lack), I will not support conniving, power hungry politicians who will likely only perpetuate the same bullshit I've seen with the Bush administration.

Love these 4 day weekends

I've been waking up in a lot of unfamiliar places lately. I usually spend the first few moments of my day trying to retrace my steps and piece together the previous night's (or morning's) events. This morning was certainly no exception. There was a television blaring in Czech and intermittant female giggling. I attempted to open my eyes but only experienced a sharp stinging sensation, as I had neglected to remove my contacts. I felt (and probably looked) like a baby shrew that was born only moments before.

I finally pried my eyes open to face the overwhelming blinding light. That's right -- I remembered these girls. There was a German guy too but he must've left. Oh damn, my head was spinning. Still wasted?

I started hoping it wouldn't be too awkward talking to these two Czech girls I had met only hours previously. I began speaking but they only stared back at me blankly. After a few more attempts, they erupted in laughter then unleashed monologues of indecipherable Czech. For the first time since arriving in Prague, I was legitimately pissed at myself for not paying more attention in the "Czech intensive" class. Up to this point, everyone I associated with knew at least some English. These girls sure as shit didn't.

How had I hung out with these girls for an entire night without having a single coherent exchange? Well, there was a lot of dancing and the shots just kept on coming. I had befriended this German guy who spoke fluent English and had lived in California for a while. We talked politics and I explained that George Bush didn't represent me or my generation. This is something I usually quickly clarify with most Europeans I meet. The German guy was saying something about the effect of the Nazis on the Germans' conscience but I couldn't hear too much over the thumping techno beats.

The German and I hung out by the bar pounding beer. A few times, we thought the Czech girls had ditched us, but they'd always return and drag us out onto the dance floor. Finally, around 5 AM they led us away from the club and onto the Metro. We rode for what felt like an eternity as we headed into the outskirts of Prague. These sections of town are far less aesthetically pleasing and more symbolic of Prague's old communist "Eastern bloc" past.

We continued the party at the girls' apartment, passing a bottle of wine around until we all passed out. By the time I left the place today, I felt oddly infatuated with the girl I had hit it off with. We were incapable of saying anything at all to one another. I guess most human communication is non-verbal. When she gave me her number I discovered that her name was Inna. I thought maybe I'd call her and ask her to go to a movie or go to dinner or something. Then I realized the futility of it all -- the purpose of calling people is to speak to them. The same goes for dating. I guess I need to find a girl with all of Inna's qualities with the only addition being the ability to formulate sentences in English.

Anyway, I hope to write in this blog a decent amount about a variety of topics. I'm sure many entries will be random stories from my travels, but I've also been following the American election very closely. I might write about movies or books too. Be sure to check back up and if you feel the inclination, leave a comment.

Image: ABSINTH