I have nothing interesting to report, but some people (you know who you are!) have been harassing me for a new post, so I thought I'd tell you about an incredibly frustrating habit that my students have and which I seem unable to break. Usually, when my kids do something annoying, I ask them to stop (sometimes 3, 4, or 5 times) and they do. When they say something that is so grammatically incorrect that I cringe when I hear it (I can something go buy?) I have them repeat the correct sentence after me and they usually get it after a few repetitions. This latest thing, however, is driving me insane.
Somehow, my kids have gotten it into their heads that the correct way to say that someone can't do something is to say you don't can. It makes no sense and they will not change! The other day, I heard some of them saying it and I started wondering whether this was a common thing amongst Slovak children. So, I went next door to grade 2 and asked one of the students to come see me (a student whose English is not so strong... if anyone would make a common mistake, he would). I looked at him very seriously and said "Fedor, can you fly?" He gave me a strange look and said, simply, "No." Fair enough. So I said "Say, No, I ___ fly." Easy enough... he said "No, I can't fly." That settled it for me. Only my kids have a freaky habit of saying I don't can.
My visit to grade 2 struck some curiosity, though, and the second graders promptly started asking me why I was asking such silly questions. I saw no harm in telling them what I had been looking for. They did not believe me that my students would say such a thing as "don't can", so they followed me back to my class for proof. I called over a repeat don't can offender and asked him the same question I had asked Fedor. He said "No, I can't fly." Of course, the one time I want him to say I don't can, he says I can't. Fine. I tried another student. Again, I can't. Are you kidding me?!? The second graders looked at me like I was insane (again) and left the room. My students looked at me like I was insane (definitely not the first time) and resumed their games. I rolled my eyes and sat at my desk.
Not ten minutes later, after reading our morning message which said "Happy Wednesday" although it was Thursday, the kids all shout out, in unison, "You don't can trick us!!!" Officially, they're doing it to torture me.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Large Men, Unproportionately Small Swimsuits!
This weekend, Johanne, Shelby, Jackie and I headed to Piestany for a nice, relaxing spa day. Piestany is known in Slovakia for being a spa town and this is literally the only thing it has going for it. When we got there, we felt like we had just gotten off the train in a ghost town. There is nothing around, nothing to see, and the bus only comes every two hours! Thankfully, the bus came just half an hour after we got there and dropped us off downtown. Of course, downtown is just as bare as the train station was, but still, we were somewhere. We walked around down there for a while (i.e. saw it all in 30 minutes - including the entire downtown shopping mall), grabbed some lunch, then headed for Spa Island, which is what we were there for to begin with.
Once we got onto Spa Island, the scenery changed entirely. It's beautiful there! The buildings are super old (in a cool castle kind of way), there are huge gardens everywhere and there are little ponds every here and there that smell like rotten eggs, but that's really only because they are natural hot springs. We walked around the island for a bit, taking in the scenery, then headed for the Balnea Esplanade Palace, where we bought day passes to the spa.
Our first stop within the spa was the pool. There was a whirlpool within the pool and the whole thing was heated to a comfortable 34 degrees Celsius. We were just sitting in the whirlpool relaxing when a very large, very hairy man came to join us. He was the first of many very large, very hairy men we would see on the day, all of whom seemed to be wearing bathing suits which were inversely proportional to the size of their guts. Anyway, this man in particular is worth mentioning because he proceeded to sit on top of one of the jets (one of the ones coming straight up out of the ground) and bounce up and down with his eyes closed, seemingly enjoying himself a little too much. We thought he might stop soon enough, but he just went on and on and on. We left the whirlpool.
We swam around the pool a little longer, and discovered the doggy door that would take us outside. Normally, I would say that swimming outdoors in March is for crazy people, but it's really much warmer in Slovakia than it is in Canada, so it wasn't so bad. Basically, your body stays warm while your face freezes. If you have balls of steel (which we do), you can get out of the pool and run to the hot tub, which is even warmer than the rest of the pool and makes you feel better about being outside. Of course, you then have to get back in the (now) cold pool to get back inside, but it seems that no one thought of this before acting. Oh well. We survived.
When we got tired of the pools, we headed inside to take advantage of the multiple saunas. They had given us sheets (literally bed sheets) at the reception when we arrived and said "These are for the sauna". We had no idea what that meant when they said it, but the "No Shoes, No Bathing Suits, Only Towels" signs made it pretty clear. So, wrapped in our bed sheets (which made me feel like I should have been having sex all morning - which, with the selection of men on display, I assure I was not) we started visiting the saunas. The first one was a "Finnish Sauna", which means that there were incredibly hot rocks in one corner over which water had been poured to created some steam. It was soooo hot in there... Shelby and I only lasted about five minutes.
We then decided to try the Steam Room. Shelby stayed a while. I stayed about 30 seconds because I felt like I was drowning. I met Jackie in the hallway and we headed to the "Relaxation Room", which was my favourite. It was utterly silent and full of reclining chairs. You just went in there, sat down, and chilled. Awesome. That is, until the man in the corner started snoring... like a freight train! He was so loud! I think he woke himself up at one point, but then fell asleep again right away.
Anyway, after about an hour in the relaxation room, we decided to head out. We sat in the regular sauna for a few minutes, then headed back to the changing room. On the way there, we noticed something that must have been put there just for me. It was - wait for it - a foot disinfecting station!!!! Wow! Basically, you stick your foot in this little machine and it sprays you with a Purel-type spray. Pretty useless, really, but I enjoyed it nonetheless!
After an exhausting day of swimming, saunas and resting, we headed back to Bratislava, where we will now wait until Rob gets here for another quick jaunt, this time to Prague!
Once we got onto Spa Island, the scenery changed entirely. It's beautiful there! The buildings are super old (in a cool castle kind of way), there are huge gardens everywhere and there are little ponds every here and there that smell like rotten eggs, but that's really only because they are natural hot springs. We walked around the island for a bit, taking in the scenery, then headed for the Balnea Esplanade Palace, where we bought day passes to the spa.
Our first stop within the spa was the pool. There was a whirlpool within the pool and the whole thing was heated to a comfortable 34 degrees Celsius. We were just sitting in the whirlpool relaxing when a very large, very hairy man came to join us. He was the first of many very large, very hairy men we would see on the day, all of whom seemed to be wearing bathing suits which were inversely proportional to the size of their guts. Anyway, this man in particular is worth mentioning because he proceeded to sit on top of one of the jets (one of the ones coming straight up out of the ground) and bounce up and down with his eyes closed, seemingly enjoying himself a little too much. We thought he might stop soon enough, but he just went on and on and on. We left the whirlpool.
We swam around the pool a little longer, and discovered the doggy door that would take us outside. Normally, I would say that swimming outdoors in March is for crazy people, but it's really much warmer in Slovakia than it is in Canada, so it wasn't so bad. Basically, your body stays warm while your face freezes. If you have balls of steel (which we do), you can get out of the pool and run to the hot tub, which is even warmer than the rest of the pool and makes you feel better about being outside. Of course, you then have to get back in the (now) cold pool to get back inside, but it seems that no one thought of this before acting. Oh well. We survived.
When we got tired of the pools, we headed inside to take advantage of the multiple saunas. They had given us sheets (literally bed sheets) at the reception when we arrived and said "These are for the sauna". We had no idea what that meant when they said it, but the "No Shoes, No Bathing Suits, Only Towels" signs made it pretty clear. So, wrapped in our bed sheets (which made me feel like I should have been having sex all morning - which, with the selection of men on display, I assure I was not) we started visiting the saunas. The first one was a "Finnish Sauna", which means that there were incredibly hot rocks in one corner over which water had been poured to created some steam. It was soooo hot in there... Shelby and I only lasted about five minutes.
We then decided to try the Steam Room. Shelby stayed a while. I stayed about 30 seconds because I felt like I was drowning. I met Jackie in the hallway and we headed to the "Relaxation Room", which was my favourite. It was utterly silent and full of reclining chairs. You just went in there, sat down, and chilled. Awesome. That is, until the man in the corner started snoring... like a freight train! He was so loud! I think he woke himself up at one point, but then fell asleep again right away.
Anyway, after about an hour in the relaxation room, we decided to head out. We sat in the regular sauna for a few minutes, then headed back to the changing room. On the way there, we noticed something that must have been put there just for me. It was - wait for it - a foot disinfecting station!!!! Wow! Basically, you stick your foot in this little machine and it sprays you with a Purel-type spray. Pretty useless, really, but I enjoyed it nonetheless!
After an exhausting day of swimming, saunas and resting, we headed back to Bratislava, where we will now wait until Rob gets here for another quick jaunt, this time to Prague!
Saturday, February 26, 2011
The Florida of Europe
After much debate about where we were going to go for Spring Break (Egypt no longer being a viable option due to the fact that we wanted to return alive), Johanne and I ended up spending this past week in Gran Canaria, the Canary Islands, Spain. Form everything we'd read, the weather should be gorgeous ("spring all year round" they said), the beaches beautiful, and the hotels relatively comfortable. They were right on all counts. The one thing everyone forget to mention, however, was that Gran Canaria appears to be the Florida of Europe - that is, a place for old people to go to escape the winter. If we had to take a guess, Johanne and I would probably say that the average age of guests at our hotel was about 80. At least once a day, we would notice something that would make us feel like we were living in a retirement home. For instance, tapioca was a staple on the dessert bar. Flan was also a main attraction. One day we even saw... wait for it... stewed prunes!!! Disgusting. The food selection wasn't the only thing making us feel like we were surrounded by old folks. The sheer amount of leathery, saggy skin was shocking! Everywhere we looked there were old people who looked like they may have been the reincarnations of brown leather couches. Also, the main form of entertainment at the hotel - bingo!!! At first, we thought that maybe our hotel catered to the elderly and, somehow, we had missed that part of the description when we booked it, but we were pleased to discover that, throughout the island, octogenarians outnumber people under 35 by a ratio of at least 4 to 1. All in all, while we saw many things (notably breasts) that we wish we could unsee though unfortunately we cannot, the omnipresence of old people made us feel incredibly young and happy.
Old folks' homes aside, we had a really good time. As you would imagine from an all-inclusive vacation, it wasn't so action-packed. We spent a lot of time by the pool or on the beach, soaking up the sun (since we all know that we haven't seen any of that in a while). On Sunday, however, we rented a car and went to explore pretty much the whole island. The inland part of the island is exceptionally hilly, so it was pretty funny to watch Johanne freak out every time she thought she was going to have to stop on one of the steeper hills (standard transmission, you know!). I can't say that I blame her too much, though. Those hills were pretty serious. At one point, on the way back down, we coasted (i.e. no gas, just brakes) for 12 whole minutes without the speed of the car ever dropping below 40 kilometres per hour. We got to take in some really beautiful scenery from the top, so it was a really good way to spend a day out of the sun (we may or may not have gotten burnt on the first day...)
Anyway, so as I said, we really didn't do much of anything to thrilling, and I therefore have nothing to say here. I just wanted you all to know that we survived the old folks' home and are now looking forward to retirement.
Old folks' homes aside, we had a really good time. As you would imagine from an all-inclusive vacation, it wasn't so action-packed. We spent a lot of time by the pool or on the beach, soaking up the sun (since we all know that we haven't seen any of that in a while). On Sunday, however, we rented a car and went to explore pretty much the whole island. The inland part of the island is exceptionally hilly, so it was pretty funny to watch Johanne freak out every time she thought she was going to have to stop on one of the steeper hills (standard transmission, you know!). I can't say that I blame her too much, though. Those hills were pretty serious. At one point, on the way back down, we coasted (i.e. no gas, just brakes) for 12 whole minutes without the speed of the car ever dropping below 40 kilometres per hour. We got to take in some really beautiful scenery from the top, so it was a really good way to spend a day out of the sun (we may or may not have gotten burnt on the first day...)
Anyway, so as I said, we really didn't do much of anything to thrilling, and I therefore have nothing to say here. I just wanted you all to know that we survived the old folks' home and are now looking forward to retirement.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
The city of lights... and chocolate!
I promised that the next post would be happier, so here it is - PARIS!!!
Last Friday, Shelby, Danko, Jackie, Christina and I headed straight to the airport for our flight to none other but the city of lights, Paris. We arrived really late, got lost trying to find the hostel, and pretty much feel asleep instantly upon finding our beds. We were in town for 3 days, though, so we had more than enough time to make up for a slightly more boring than acceptable first night.
On Saturday morning, we woke up early (this is, unfortunately, an occupational hazard) and partook of the hostel's free breakfast. Generally, this wouldn't be anything to write home about, but seeing as it's Paris, the pastries were delectable, the hot chocolate rich and the croissants melted in your mouth. It was a good start to the day.
Seeing as Shelby and I had already been to Paris, we decided to let the others decide what we would do with our time. They wanted to join a free walking tour of the city, so we made our way to Place Saint-Michel at 11 o'clock. We met our tour guide, a very eccentric yet somehow still sarcastically funny girl, and headed off to see the sites. Under her care, we saw and had history lessons about the Cathedrale de Notre-Dame, the Paris opera house, the birthplace of Friday the 13th, the Louvre museum, the "love bridge" and other such Paris landmarks. By the halfway point of this 3 and a half hour walking tour, we were freezing our tatas off and were more than happy to accept the Starbucks our guide offered up as a break area. However, the twenty minutes she offered us to go in and warm up absolutely did not strike our fancy, so we ditched the tour and decided to see the rest of the sites on our own. Having been to Paris previously and being the proud owner of a pretty good memory and somewhat reasonable sense of direction, I took it upon myself to act as our tour guide. Mostly, I just made up stories about crazy kings taking over places and building whatever buildings we saw, but my charges seemed to be enjoying my commentary, so it worked out in my favour. Also, with one of our own as the tour guide, we were free to stop somewhere warm every time the wind got to us.
My first order of business on this tour was to find us a pain au chocolat. After all, Danko, Jackie, and Christina had never had one fresh out of a Paris bakery, so it really didn't seem fair to make them wait any longer. The joy and wonder had to begin immediately. Luckily for us, there are bakeries littered around Paris, including in the Jardin des Tuilleries where we were at the moment, so the pastries were directly within our reach. It was like a party in my mouth...
We finished out the afternoon visiting the Arc de Triomphe (including the world's largest - and therefore scariest - roundabout), les Champs Elysees (where I saw the absolute largest Sephora ever of all time... Heather might have cried), the Place de la Concorde, the Eiffel Tower, and the Trocadero. In and of themselves, nothing too terribly fancy, but I have to say that they all make for excellent photographic opportunities. By the end of the day, we had been out in the cold walking for about twelve hours, so we found a nice spot for dinner, drank some French wine and retreated to the hostel, where some of us were so tired we fell asleep in our clothes (I won't name names, but I can assure you that it was not me).
The next morning, we rose early again and set out for more great adventures. Naturally, our first stop was yet another bakery, where chocolate for breakfast seems like not only the logical choice, but an absolute must. We then went to take a closer loos at the Cathedrale de Notre-Dame. I took my tourists to see the back of it, as it is far more impressive than the front (twss?), then we headed inside - free on Sundays! - where Jackie and Christina decided to stay for mass. Shelby, Danko, and I now had an hour to kill, so we decided to wander off in an as of yet unexplored direction. We headed down a street that led us directly to City Hall, an old building which was undoubtedly some kind of palace once upon a time. Directly in front of it was a great big outdoor skating rink. Somehow, despite not having put on skates or even considered skating in about 13 years, I was overcome with such an urge to go skating that I managed to convince Shelby and the Donk to at least go check out what it would cost. Well, for five euros each, how could we reasonably say no? We rented our somewhat worn-down skates, laced them up, and hit the ice. It was an incredibly scary, yet wonderful way to kill an hour in downtown Paris. I am also proud to report that none of us fell on our asses, or faces, or other body parts - not even once! This even includes those moments when we felt that silly pictures were in order (i.e. dancing to Beyonce, "figure skating", and capturing the look of utmost concentration on our faces).
Unfortunately, this is me "dancing" on skates.
When the girls finished at church, they took the Donk and went to check out the Louvre, this time inside. Shelby and I had already been in there and had no interest in revisiting the Mona Lisa (she is highly disappointing in person), so we whiled away the afternoon in a coffee shop. To our delight, they sold "maxi" pains au chocolate - that is, chocolate-filled pastries the size of my head! What a good day!
That evening, we went up to the top of the Eiffel Tower (where we froze, again), watched in awe as it lit up and glittered, then headed out for another delicious meal accompanied by some shockingly inexpensive yet delectable wine. We once again found it shockingly easy to fall asleep that night.
On Monday morning, this glorious weekend of chocolate, cold, palaces, and frenchness unfortunately had to come to an end, so we got back on the bus that would take us to the airport. We departed Paris at 16:00, and the only thing I could think of was when I would have the chance to visit again.
Paris, I love you.
Last Friday, Shelby, Danko, Jackie, Christina and I headed straight to the airport for our flight to none other but the city of lights, Paris. We arrived really late, got lost trying to find the hostel, and pretty much feel asleep instantly upon finding our beds. We were in town for 3 days, though, so we had more than enough time to make up for a slightly more boring than acceptable first night.
On Saturday morning, we woke up early (this is, unfortunately, an occupational hazard) and partook of the hostel's free breakfast. Generally, this wouldn't be anything to write home about, but seeing as it's Paris, the pastries were delectable, the hot chocolate rich and the croissants melted in your mouth. It was a good start to the day.
Seeing as Shelby and I had already been to Paris, we decided to let the others decide what we would do with our time. They wanted to join a free walking tour of the city, so we made our way to Place Saint-Michel at 11 o'clock. We met our tour guide, a very eccentric yet somehow still sarcastically funny girl, and headed off to see the sites. Under her care, we saw and had history lessons about the Cathedrale de Notre-Dame, the Paris opera house, the birthplace of Friday the 13th, the Louvre museum, the "love bridge" and other such Paris landmarks. By the halfway point of this 3 and a half hour walking tour, we were freezing our tatas off and were more than happy to accept the Starbucks our guide offered up as a break area. However, the twenty minutes she offered us to go in and warm up absolutely did not strike our fancy, so we ditched the tour and decided to see the rest of the sites on our own. Having been to Paris previously and being the proud owner of a pretty good memory and somewhat reasonable sense of direction, I took it upon myself to act as our tour guide. Mostly, I just made up stories about crazy kings taking over places and building whatever buildings we saw, but my charges seemed to be enjoying my commentary, so it worked out in my favour. Also, with one of our own as the tour guide, we were free to stop somewhere warm every time the wind got to us.
My first order of business on this tour was to find us a pain au chocolat. After all, Danko, Jackie, and Christina had never had one fresh out of a Paris bakery, so it really didn't seem fair to make them wait any longer. The joy and wonder had to begin immediately. Luckily for us, there are bakeries littered around Paris, including in the Jardin des Tuilleries where we were at the moment, so the pastries were directly within our reach. It was like a party in my mouth...
We finished out the afternoon visiting the Arc de Triomphe (including the world's largest - and therefore scariest - roundabout), les Champs Elysees (where I saw the absolute largest Sephora ever of all time... Heather might have cried), the Place de la Concorde, the Eiffel Tower, and the Trocadero. In and of themselves, nothing too terribly fancy, but I have to say that they all make for excellent photographic opportunities. By the end of the day, we had been out in the cold walking for about twelve hours, so we found a nice spot for dinner, drank some French wine and retreated to the hostel, where some of us were so tired we fell asleep in our clothes (I won't name names, but I can assure you that it was not me).
The next morning, we rose early again and set out for more great adventures. Naturally, our first stop was yet another bakery, where chocolate for breakfast seems like not only the logical choice, but an absolute must. We then went to take a closer loos at the Cathedrale de Notre-Dame. I took my tourists to see the back of it, as it is far more impressive than the front (twss?), then we headed inside - free on Sundays! - where Jackie and Christina decided to stay for mass. Shelby, Danko, and I now had an hour to kill, so we decided to wander off in an as of yet unexplored direction. We headed down a street that led us directly to City Hall, an old building which was undoubtedly some kind of palace once upon a time. Directly in front of it was a great big outdoor skating rink. Somehow, despite not having put on skates or even considered skating in about 13 years, I was overcome with such an urge to go skating that I managed to convince Shelby and the Donk to at least go check out what it would cost. Well, for five euros each, how could we reasonably say no? We rented our somewhat worn-down skates, laced them up, and hit the ice. It was an incredibly scary, yet wonderful way to kill an hour in downtown Paris. I am also proud to report that none of us fell on our asses, or faces, or other body parts - not even once! This even includes those moments when we felt that silly pictures were in order (i.e. dancing to Beyonce, "figure skating", and capturing the look of utmost concentration on our faces).
Unfortunately, this is me "dancing" on skates.When the girls finished at church, they took the Donk and went to check out the Louvre, this time inside. Shelby and I had already been in there and had no interest in revisiting the Mona Lisa (she is highly disappointing in person), so we whiled away the afternoon in a coffee shop. To our delight, they sold "maxi" pains au chocolate - that is, chocolate-filled pastries the size of my head! What a good day!
That evening, we went up to the top of the Eiffel Tower (where we froze, again), watched in awe as it lit up and glittered, then headed out for another delicious meal accompanied by some shockingly inexpensive yet delectable wine. We once again found it shockingly easy to fall asleep that night.
On Monday morning, this glorious weekend of chocolate, cold, palaces, and frenchness unfortunately had to come to an end, so we got back on the bus that would take us to the airport. We departed Paris at 16:00, and the only thing I could think of was when I would have the chance to visit again.
Paris, I love you.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
What Year Is This?
On the first day back at school after the Christmas holiday, I sent home progress reports. Naturally, with progress reports come parent-teacher interviews. I put up a sign-up sheet with times and dates that I was available. Luckily for me, only a select few parents signed up. During one of the interviews, however, I heard something that made my jaw drop.
Janko's mom (the one that looks exactly like Victoria Beckham) came in on Monday, dreading the news I had to give her. Her son is a barrel full of energy and practically never stops moving. He is also incredibly intelligent - he can read and write and his math skills are distinctly above par - and seems to like me, so he listens relatively well and gets all of his work done whether it is something he enjoys or something he hates. She was relieved to hear this and by the halfway point of the interview she was beaming (partially from hearing her kid's a genius and partially from not having to hear that he was a disaster to teach). While we were discussing Janko's tendency to bounce off walls when he's in a good mood, our conversation went something like this:
Vicky B.: "I'm so happy you are good with dealing with kids like Janko."
Steph (not wanting to say "Oh, well, I have a soft spot for the bad ones!": Smiles and nods and makes non-committal noises of agreement.
Vicky B.: "Really, when he was with the teacher who was here before you, 3-4 times a day he would have to go stand facing the wall for 15 minutes at a time."
Steph (jaw dropping): "Wow... (grasping for words, because I'm in shock) Well, I prefer to encourage them to behave with a reward system."
**Awkward Silence**
Vicky B.: "Yes... I think it's better."
WHAT THE HELL!?!?!?! I was so shocked by the revelation that people still do this that I dreamed about it last night. I mean, seriously, what year is it? I understand that she was an older teacher, but damn... I didn't think anyone thought that would still work. Go stand facing the wall for 15 minutes? The kid has major hyperactivity issues... how is standing still for extended periods of time doing nothing going to help him????
I don't even have the words to express my complete and total shock. Although I have told everyone who will listen this story already, I felt I needed to write it here so that maybe the dreams will stop!
Hope you enjoyed the story... and that you were as shocked and appalled as I was.
The next post will be happier, I promise!
Steph :)
Janko's mom (the one that looks exactly like Victoria Beckham) came in on Monday, dreading the news I had to give her. Her son is a barrel full of energy and practically never stops moving. He is also incredibly intelligent - he can read and write and his math skills are distinctly above par - and seems to like me, so he listens relatively well and gets all of his work done whether it is something he enjoys or something he hates. She was relieved to hear this and by the halfway point of the interview she was beaming (partially from hearing her kid's a genius and partially from not having to hear that he was a disaster to teach). While we were discussing Janko's tendency to bounce off walls when he's in a good mood, our conversation went something like this:
Vicky B.: "I'm so happy you are good with dealing with kids like Janko."
Steph (not wanting to say "Oh, well, I have a soft spot for the bad ones!": Smiles and nods and makes non-committal noises of agreement.
Vicky B.: "Really, when he was with the teacher who was here before you, 3-4 times a day he would have to go stand facing the wall for 15 minutes at a time."
Steph (jaw dropping): "Wow... (grasping for words, because I'm in shock) Well, I prefer to encourage them to behave with a reward system."
**Awkward Silence**
Vicky B.: "Yes... I think it's better."
WHAT THE HELL!?!?!?! I was so shocked by the revelation that people still do this that I dreamed about it last night. I mean, seriously, what year is it? I understand that she was an older teacher, but damn... I didn't think anyone thought that would still work. Go stand facing the wall for 15 minutes? The kid has major hyperactivity issues... how is standing still for extended periods of time doing nothing going to help him????
I don't even have the words to express my complete and total shock. Although I have told everyone who will listen this story already, I felt I needed to write it here so that maybe the dreams will stop!
Hope you enjoyed the story... and that you were as shocked and appalled as I was.
The next post will be happier, I promise!
Steph :)
Thursday, December 23, 2010
The Tatas Story...
Ok, so clearly my Facebook status has intrigued some people. Here is the full story for your reading pleasure.
So, as we may have already concluded from previous posts, the lawyers at my school are sometimes (most times) not that smart. They keep finding "solutions" for my fellow Canadians and me to stay in the country, but they always backfire. The last one, as you may recall, was the saga of the explosive diarrhea, which got us a "tolerated residence" stamp that was supposed to be good until December 26th.
Yesterday, December 22nd (pre-visa-expiry, you may notice), I flew from Vienna to Zurich, then from Zurich to Montreal. In Zurich, I had to go through passport control. I was not stressed about it all, but maybe I should have been... when I got up to the counter, the officer (whom I cannot refer to as he or she, because I honestly couldn't decide) looked through my passport at my stamps, then looked back up at me and asked me whether or not I had actually entered the EU in August. I said yes (there was stamp, how could I lie?). The officer then proceeded to count the number of months I'd ben around on his/her fingers and came up with four... one too many. We then had a brief discussion in which I pointed out my "tolerated residence", thinking this would clear things up. False. I was met with nothing more than I blank stare and a "I've never seen this before, we'll have to check it." A quick phone call later, another officer arrived, took my passport and boarding pass and walked away. Super. He was back within 5 minutes, and he lead me to the immigration part of the airport (i.e. the police station within the airport). I waited there about 10 minutes, stressing about how much trouble I was about to get in and about how my flight was boarding in 10 more minutes.
Finally, the man came back out with my passport. He said "I've never seen this stamp before. This is nothing." Again, wonderful. Then, his gaze dropped to my boobs. It stayed there for the entire remainder of the conversation. As he stared at my bosom, I told him that this was all I had, this was what the Slovak police gave me. He continued to say it was nothing, and that I wasn't supposed to stay in the EU longer than 3 months (he also counted on his fingers... this makes me feel much better about my first graders' math skills) and that overstaying that time incurs a fine of 580 Swiss Francs. He was very stern with my breasts. Exasperated, I told him there was nothing I could do, so to just get on with it. I figured I would just pay the fine and get on with my day... it was not worth missing my flight. I said "So, what do I do?" His answer: to shove my passport at my boobs (where he was still looking) and say "Go to your flight." I fled, and didn't look back.
Apparently, a good stare at my tatas is worth at least 580 Francs. Good to know.
So, as we may have already concluded from previous posts, the lawyers at my school are sometimes (most times) not that smart. They keep finding "solutions" for my fellow Canadians and me to stay in the country, but they always backfire. The last one, as you may recall, was the saga of the explosive diarrhea, which got us a "tolerated residence" stamp that was supposed to be good until December 26th.
Yesterday, December 22nd (pre-visa-expiry, you may notice), I flew from Vienna to Zurich, then from Zurich to Montreal. In Zurich, I had to go through passport control. I was not stressed about it all, but maybe I should have been... when I got up to the counter, the officer (whom I cannot refer to as he or she, because I honestly couldn't decide) looked through my passport at my stamps, then looked back up at me and asked me whether or not I had actually entered the EU in August. I said yes (there was stamp, how could I lie?). The officer then proceeded to count the number of months I'd ben around on his/her fingers and came up with four... one too many. We then had a brief discussion in which I pointed out my "tolerated residence", thinking this would clear things up. False. I was met with nothing more than I blank stare and a "I've never seen this before, we'll have to check it." A quick phone call later, another officer arrived, took my passport and boarding pass and walked away. Super. He was back within 5 minutes, and he lead me to the immigration part of the airport (i.e. the police station within the airport). I waited there about 10 minutes, stressing about how much trouble I was about to get in and about how my flight was boarding in 10 more minutes.
Finally, the man came back out with my passport. He said "I've never seen this stamp before. This is nothing." Again, wonderful. Then, his gaze dropped to my boobs. It stayed there for the entire remainder of the conversation. As he stared at my bosom, I told him that this was all I had, this was what the Slovak police gave me. He continued to say it was nothing, and that I wasn't supposed to stay in the EU longer than 3 months (he also counted on his fingers... this makes me feel much better about my first graders' math skills) and that overstaying that time incurs a fine of 580 Swiss Francs. He was very stern with my breasts. Exasperated, I told him there was nothing I could do, so to just get on with it. I figured I would just pay the fine and get on with my day... it was not worth missing my flight. I said "So, what do I do?" His answer: to shove my passport at my boobs (where he was still looking) and say "Go to your flight." I fled, and didn't look back.
Apparently, a good stare at my tatas is worth at least 580 Francs. Good to know.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Street Meat Heaven!
Let's see... when I last posted, I was thisclose to being kicked out of the country and Kristelle came to the rescue by becoming my "assistant". With that crisis out of the way, we were free to tackle our next mission - to visit all the big Christmas markets in three weeks' time. Success! Here's how it went.
As you all know, Kristelle's first official Slovak weekend was spent in the somewhat-crappy, though outstanding smelling Bratislava Christmas market. We drank some hot wine, froze our tatas off looking at doilies and were left with an ominous feeling about markets to come. Nevertheless, we headed to Prague the following weekend. We took a train on Friday night and drank some mildly alcoholic Coke on the 4 and a half hour ride. When we got there, it was already 1 o'clock in the morning, so we basically crashed right away. The next morning, we set out for the markets. When we arrived at the first one, we were reminded of Bratislava. Small, great smell, boring to shop at. We figured that even though the market seemed crappy, we could at least spend the weekend visiting Prague. So, we started walking away from this market, only to turn the corner and run into another, slightly larger, market. We visited this one thoroughly, then continued on, taking pictures of the amazing architecture on the way. Once again, we turned a corner and BAM! another market stood before us. This one was gigantic! We walked up and down the aisles and were in complete sensory overload. Half pigs roasting to one side, chocolate covered fruits on the other, shops here, stalls there, hot wine, hot chocolate with rum... the list goes on and on. We were in awe! We spent the better part of the day shopping, eating, and drinking and finally capped it all off with a visit to the "love bridge" and the Lennon Wall, a huge brick wall dedicated to john Lennon, completely covered in graffiti quoting his songs and ideals. It was pretty sweet! The next day, we went back to the market (of course!) because there was no way we could have fully appreciated it in one day. We also took time out of our busy shopping and eating schedule to take a look at the world's biggest castle. As it's name suggests, it's huge!!! There wasn't even a way to get the whole thing in one picture, because no matter how far away you stood, it was still too big! After two whirlwind days in Prague, we were already beginning to feel excited about what was awaiting us in Budapest.
The following weekend, that's exactly where we went. Upon arrival in Budapest, we had no idea where we were, so we asked around. We figured it could not be that difficult to find a huge outdoor market with a giant Christmas tree as its center in the heart of Budapest. Wrong. We asked and asked and asked, and still no one seemed to know what the "Christmas market" was, let alone where we could find it. Eventually, someone told us to take bus #7 and go two stops. We did. It lead nowhere. We walked and walked and walked and finally came across a dinky little street, haphazardly decorated and containing about 10 stalls. Disappointment began to creep in. We shopped a little bit, and at every stall asked whether there was another market somewhere else. We got "No"s all around. We started thinking about leaving early.
Finally, at the end of this rink-a-dink road, we saw a hot wine stall. Having come all the way to Budapest for such a terrible market, we decided wine was a must. Just for good measure we asked the bartender whether or not there was another market. He said yes!!! A good 30 minute walk later, we found it. Huge, beautiful, delicious-smelling Christmas market! This one was my favourite of all. The stalls were cuter than any of the others, the food was different and amazing, and the shopping was actually good (i.e. not just doilies and angels!) We froze our butts off (I know, we are running out of body parts!) shopping around all day, but were not at all bothered by it, because it was so amazing!
Overall, I would say that the Christmas markets were a complete and total success. Although we have probably gained about 10 pounds each from all the booze and food, we are thoroughly satisfied with the experience and recommend that everyone visit the Christmas markets around here at least once!
Tonight, we are heading to Vienna to sleep in our somewhat skeezy looking hotel and tomorrow, we are flying home. It's hard to believe this day is already here, but it is.
See you all tomorrow!!
Steph :)
As you all know, Kristelle's first official Slovak weekend was spent in the somewhat-crappy, though outstanding smelling Bratislava Christmas market. We drank some hot wine, froze our tatas off looking at doilies and were left with an ominous feeling about markets to come. Nevertheless, we headed to Prague the following weekend. We took a train on Friday night and drank some mildly alcoholic Coke on the 4 and a half hour ride. When we got there, it was already 1 o'clock in the morning, so we basically crashed right away. The next morning, we set out for the markets. When we arrived at the first one, we were reminded of Bratislava. Small, great smell, boring to shop at. We figured that even though the market seemed crappy, we could at least spend the weekend visiting Prague. So, we started walking away from this market, only to turn the corner and run into another, slightly larger, market. We visited this one thoroughly, then continued on, taking pictures of the amazing architecture on the way. Once again, we turned a corner and BAM! another market stood before us. This one was gigantic! We walked up and down the aisles and were in complete sensory overload. Half pigs roasting to one side, chocolate covered fruits on the other, shops here, stalls there, hot wine, hot chocolate with rum... the list goes on and on. We were in awe! We spent the better part of the day shopping, eating, and drinking and finally capped it all off with a visit to the "love bridge" and the Lennon Wall, a huge brick wall dedicated to john Lennon, completely covered in graffiti quoting his songs and ideals. It was pretty sweet! The next day, we went back to the market (of course!) because there was no way we could have fully appreciated it in one day. We also took time out of our busy shopping and eating schedule to take a look at the world's biggest castle. As it's name suggests, it's huge!!! There wasn't even a way to get the whole thing in one picture, because no matter how far away you stood, it was still too big! After two whirlwind days in Prague, we were already beginning to feel excited about what was awaiting us in Budapest.
The following weekend, that's exactly where we went. Upon arrival in Budapest, we had no idea where we were, so we asked around. We figured it could not be that difficult to find a huge outdoor market with a giant Christmas tree as its center in the heart of Budapest. Wrong. We asked and asked and asked, and still no one seemed to know what the "Christmas market" was, let alone where we could find it. Eventually, someone told us to take bus #7 and go two stops. We did. It lead nowhere. We walked and walked and walked and finally came across a dinky little street, haphazardly decorated and containing about 10 stalls. Disappointment began to creep in. We shopped a little bit, and at every stall asked whether there was another market somewhere else. We got "No"s all around. We started thinking about leaving early.
Finally, at the end of this rink-a-dink road, we saw a hot wine stall. Having come all the way to Budapest for such a terrible market, we decided wine was a must. Just for good measure we asked the bartender whether or not there was another market. He said yes!!! A good 30 minute walk later, we found it. Huge, beautiful, delicious-smelling Christmas market! This one was my favourite of all. The stalls were cuter than any of the others, the food was different and amazing, and the shopping was actually good (i.e. not just doilies and angels!) We froze our butts off (I know, we are running out of body parts!) shopping around all day, but were not at all bothered by it, because it was so amazing!
Overall, I would say that the Christmas markets were a complete and total success. Although we have probably gained about 10 pounds each from all the booze and food, we are thoroughly satisfied with the experience and recommend that everyone visit the Christmas markets around here at least once!
Tonight, we are heading to Vienna to sleep in our somewhat skeezy looking hotel and tomorrow, we are flying home. It's hard to believe this day is already here, but it is.
See you all tomorrow!!
Steph :)
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