2010: A year in review

Well, sort of. More like a partial year in review. If I reviewed the entire year I’d bore even myself to tears.

The year didn’t really kick into gear until mid-May, when I embarked on a series of adventures that look set to continue right into 2011. The first few months, discussed in minor detail on these very pages, were mainly characterised by a largely forgettable stint teaching civics and history in an American public high school. For all the horror stories you hear about teaching unruly classes of 30+ kids, that wasn’t at all the problem. I just had an unfortunate experience where my teaching mentor was a crazed, demented witch who made it her personal goal to make my life as much of a living hell as possible. I’m slowly trying to banish the whole episode from my memory – think Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind-style treatment here.

To recap: in May I headed off to Eastern Europe on a 5-week jaunt, followed by about 2 months in the UK working at a summer school, and then at the end of August I found myself back in Ukraine, where I’m happily bedded down. Well, technically, at this very moment I’m back in America visiting my parents and cats and dog for the holidays. I was hoping I’d have more time to catch up on some posts, but I’ve been very busy over the last few days of 2010 watching meaningless bowl games and glued to CNBC, jigging around my portfolio and trying to minimize my capital gains tax for the year. If you’ve got no idea what I’m talking about, then it’s all for the best. But trust me when I say that’s it’s a very complicated, time-consuming process.

But because I wanted to post at least one more time before the proverbial ball drops, here’s a brief look at (or, re-examination of) my summer shenanigans, along with a few photos. I think most of my initial thoughts, posted whilst travelling at the time, probably contain far more interesting insights. Here I’ll just add a few comments that I forgot to at the time, or that came to me much later. Or that I’m just making up right now because I can’t remember anything at all.

Stop 1: Romania: Sibiu – Sighisoara – Brasov - Bucharest

Let’s see, an EU capital of culture in 2007 (Sibiu), Dracula’s home town (Sighisoara), Dracula’s castle (in Bran, a short ride from Brasov) and then a place bearing the heavy burden of history (Bucharest).

My good buddy Magnus, who hails from Greece, has an interesting theory about joining the EU/adopting the euro. Before adopting the euro, Greek cinemas were chaotic, rambunctious places with people throwing popcorn, launching drinks at the screen, stealing each others’ girlfriends and fighting. Afterwards, the general tomfoolery ceased almost immediately and cinemas suddenly became civilised, orderly places. Magnus thought that adopting the euro would be a good remedy to alleviate the hooting and hollering characteristic of cinemas in Chicago’s South Side, but to me these sound like rather more fun environments than the staid ones we’re used to.

What has this got to do with Romania? I didn’t go the cinema in Romania but I do have a similar theory regarding taxis. Most travellers dread the usual hassle from taxi drivers upon arriving at the airport, train or bus station, when you’re usually descended upon like a swarm of buzzards attacking the remnants of a carcass. I used to find this far more unbearable in countries outside the EU and putting my theory to the test, I was especially cognizant of the situation in Romania. And sure enough, it proved true: not once did anyone try and drum up any custom and I was left to my own devices as far as finding my way round town. I saw plenty of taxis, but most of the drivers sat there looking uninterested. Either they were lazy, or the EU passes a directive to new member states instructing their taxi drivers to cease and desist with hassling tourists.

Then again, maybe it’s more an indictment of the way capitalism works in these parts. Take customer service in cafes and restaurants. Not only are waiters reluctant to take your order, but they try and walk away immediately after you order your first item. Ask for a coffee, they jot it down and start to walk off. Order a main in a restaurant, and you practically have to beg them not to back away so you can order a starter or salad. When finished, they quickly pounce, take your plate away, and rarely ask if you’d like dessert. And it’s not like there’s massive turnover in these places and they’ve got other people to seat. Most of the time they’re half-empty.

Okay, so that’s got nothing to do with being in the EU or not. The same applies to Moldova and Ukraine, for the most part. One of my favourite stories about why capitalism doesn’t work in Ukraine comes from a guy I knew who was studying Russian in Kyrgyzstan. He once told me the story of the lady he regularly bought sweets from, and how her supplies dwindled over time. When her supply had finally dried up, he asked whether she’d be ordering anymore.

‘No, because you would just buy them all again!’

I must confess that I’ve pilfered this story (I wish it had happened to me) and passed it off as my own from time to time, but ONLY when I’m teaching. I’m sure every teacher’s done this, so it’s justifiable in the classroom.

My reconnoitre and repartee with a glamorous femme fatale

Bucharest was memorable for three reasons: that ‘palpable sense’ of history I described before, a charming and welcoming host, and my rendezvous with Isabelle Huppert.

Dr Wasabi Islam put me in touch with a friend of his, and she proved to me a wonderful guide to the city, as well as a non-stop source of heavy, existentialist conversation. Thinking about the conversations I’ve often had with non-native speakers of English led me to the following conclusions.

First, I’ll be the first to admit that I’m no great conversationalist, despite all the tips I’ve taken from Samuel Johnson. In some company, I can be a bit of a milksop, while in the company of others, I gab away incessantly. I’ve often found that the vast majority of my ‘serious’ conversations with locals – in other words, beyond the small talk and discussions of music and cinema – get heavy very quickly. This is also definitely an Eastern European phenomenon, and before too long, conversation gets very introspective, deep and often goes off in all sorts of wild directions. Because of certain language barriers, sometimes I find that I’m spewing off the biggest load of nonsense in an attempt to keep my language at a more basic level. I can often hardly believe the crap pouring out of my mouth. For the most part, the conversation is interesting, but I have to wonder at times whether it’s not merely a matter of filling a void – when there’s little else to talk about, existentialism seems the default option.

Amongst all of the fascinating things my host had to offer, this was easily my favourite: ‘the most delicate part of solitude is accepting yourself.’ Which naturally led me to ruminate on the joys of travelling solo.

The charming locals of Sibiu

A monument in honour of Sighisoara's most famous son, Vlad the Impaler

If you look ever so closely, you'll spot the Hollywood-like Brasov sign

Just moments before I told Mademoiselle Huppert what I really thought of her film career

The heavy weight of history: 21 December 1989 square

Heroes from the past: in honour of those who paid the sacrifice on that fateful day

Moldova - Chisinau

It all started off hairy when I was apprehended by the police upon arrival at the train station, but once I was released from custody my stay was a pleasant one. I made the obligatory museum visit (the Museum of History & Archaeology), which featured harrowing WWII photos, an extensive Katyn exhibit, and some fascinating propaganda posters, my favourite being the one depicting a Union Jack/Stars & Stripes/Hammer & Sickle-emblazoned knife plunging through the back of a vicious, fangs-baring Nazi wolf’s head, his blood oozing out all over Berlin.

Other highlights:

• a diabolical performance of traditional song and dance at the National Philharmonic, where I left at the interval

• a forlorn-looking waitress in traditional peasant garb, when I asked why she looked so gloomy: ‘What’s to be happy about?’ This reminds me of the many comments I’ve received from Eastern Europeans asking why ‘we’ smile so often in photos.

• observing standard relationship behaviour in these parts. There are two different models. In the first, one often sees a boy with 2 girls, one of whom is his girlfriend. He’s holding the obligatory bunch of flowers upside down, looking sullen and downtrodden, while the girls happily natter away. This is the female dominant model. Model number two features the typical couple sitting at a café, with the dominant alpha male looking grim and serious, blattering away on his mobile while the subservient woman patiently waits for him to finish. If her phone rings, she daren’t answer it. Honestly, all relationships fall within these two models, no exceptions.

Moldova's finest architectural gems

A time-warp back to the Soviet past: Transdnietria

I can’t really better that ridiculously over-the-top stream of consciousness-style diatribe, so I won’t, and instead leave you with just the pictures.   

 With friends like these...the Abkhazia-Transdniestria Friendship Society

Europe's finest stadium (allegedly): home of FC Sheriff Tiraspol, with the author modelling the new home top

Lenin, Parliament, flags, tanks: just what every crackpot banana republic needs

Wonderful hospitality from some of Tiraspol's lovelies...four of them, anyway

And that is that. Forgive me with the old bait and switch on the title of this post (year in review? more like fortnight!), but I did intend to cover more ground. I’ll instead save it for 2011 and merely wish everyone a happy new year.

To follow in early 2011: my adventures in a sweltering Ukraine, why train travel trumps every other form of transport, and a review of my theatre debut, along with a top-secret, password-protected - ‘for certain eyes only’ - post.