Thursday, August 5, 2010

Deutsch Im Park / Retirement Party

Tomorrow we're taking a little trip to Carinthia, so this might be the last post for several days.

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Another perfect day, weather-wise. I didn't even bother checking the temperature. We'll call it 75.

About noon I headed out for my last "German In The Park" lesson. But I wanted to sip a beer first at Cafe Weimar, so I got off the subway a few stops earlier and walked over. Found a seat outside and did some reading and writing. And sipping.

Then walked back to the subway, got off at the regular stop, and walked through the Turkish market again. I decided fuck it, I'm buying one of those 10 Euro vests I've been noticing, the kind with all the pockets. But I made a mistake and went to the wrong stall, where the vests were 15 Euro. Well, I had some time. So I figured I'd see how low I could get the guy to go. "Do you have this in large?" "Do you have it in red?" (I'd never wear red but I wanted the guy to have a time investment in the negotiations.) "Let me try it on." "Is this all the pockets it has?" "Are you sure this isn't a woman's vest?"

After all that, the lowest the guy would go was 14 Euro. Hardly a victory for me. I looked at my watch and said in German, "Shit, I'm late for lunch with my wife! I'll come back tomorrow!" No Turk would ever rush off because he's afraid his wife would get mad, so I lost man-points there.

Found the other stall a block further down, tried on a vest (better quality, I thought, as well as being cheaper) and didn't bother haggling with the guy. "Here's your 10 Euro," I said. I trotted down to the next Turkish snack stand and bought a durum, which is kind of like a gyro but wrapped up like a burrito. Gobbled it up and went to my lesson.

I've enjoyed this adventure, meeting the immigrants and learning a little about their lives and culture. The Egyptian woman showed me how to write my name in Arabic, and my Serbian buddy Dragan brought his wife along---she's visiting for two weeks from Serbia. The teachers were patient as usual and at the end of class we all thanked them; one of them handed out a sheet with everyone's name and contact info, so we can keep in touch if we want. Dragan and I already have tentative plans to meet in the park for more practice after B and I get back from Carinthia.

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Many years ago, B's sister was instrumental in founding a trade union and she's been a big player in the union since. But she's had cancer for years and the illness has taken its toll on her energy and health, so she's finally had to take early retirement for health reasons. Tonight they were having a big retirement party for her at the union offices, so after German In The Park I hopped the streetcar, connected with the subway, and then looked around for a few minutes getting my bearings before walking several blocks to the office.

Before I talk about the party, let's review this public transportation thing: I can't emphasize how damned cool good public transportation is. Imagine not having to fuck with your car, because you don't NEED a car---no car payments, no maintenance, no insurance, no driver's license. You just get on a bus, tram, or subway and let someone else do the driving. No traffic to fuck with! It's magical.

In cities, most of us don't get our waters from private wells, have septic tanks, generate our own electricity, or have our own natural gas well. But for some reason we like spending $10,000 or so a year to buy, insure, feed, and maintain a fucking car. Well, while we're at it, why don't we drill our own water wells and buy huge generators for electricity and run them 24-7? What's the difference?

Would you get rid of your car if you had good public transportation? I would. Hell, I'd gladly pay $1000 a year to buy a year-long all-access pass.

So I got to the party. R was already in the process of giving her speech. There were tables all laid out with plates and silverware and glasses (water and wine.) Let me emphasize this yet again: The Austrians do not use paper plates, plastic cutlery, or Styrofoam cups. Never offer a European a glass of wine or a beer in a Styrofoam cup; you'd shock him less if you took a shit in his boot.

B translated the speech for me, whispering in my ear. R thanked everybody and told about the founding of the union. There was a big white dog wandering around and he came up a few times during the speech so I could pet him and scratch his ears. I later found out he belongs to one of the ladies at the union and he's been coming to the office since he was a pup. And though there was a fantastic buffet laid out for everyone, the dog never once tried to get any of the people food.

The speech over, we ate. The food was great, made by some of the ladies of the union. I won't bore you with the details, but those people can cook.

I got into a few interesting discussions with the guys at our table. One guy got his PhD in Amsterdam and, surprisingly, had to write his thesis in English. Another guy was the chief of all the shop stewards for some big bank. He described himself as a banker but he was more a labor-relations guy who worked for the workers. He told me how he went to a manager at the bank to talk to him about some labor issue and the guy started telling him what to do. The guy said: "I don't work for you." The manager started sputtering, unable to believe the fact that a bank employee wasn't answerable to him, but the guy explained: "I work for the people in the union and I answer to them."

"That's great," I told him, thinking about how little clout unions have in the US. "If anyone ever doubts the usefulness of their union, just show them a picture of an American unemployment line, and another picture of some investment banker smoking a big cigar, and ask them if they want that shit for their future," I said.

Our buddy Franz was there. He used to work at the union in Vienna but moved to Carinthia and was back for the party. He moved there last year after falling in love with a woman from a small town there, and now they're getting married in October---his first marriage, her second. She has three boys and they all like Franz, and he and the gal get along well. "Sometimes you have to do certain things later in life," he said...meaning, getting married. "Tell me about it," I said, remembering my two marriages.

So tomorrow we're going to pick Franz up and drive him back to Carinthia, meet his girlfriend and her kids, and stay there for a few days enjoying the wonders of that Austrian state.

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