Wednesday: German Test

I studied until 10 PM last night for today's test.

On the way to the school, passing through the U4 subway station, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a 1 Euro coin. I've been giving the friendly, smiling homeless man who sells the newspapers a Euro each week, just for the sake of my own karma, and in appreciation for his friendly smile.

But for the first time in a month, he wasn't there. I missed seeing him. Hope he's there tomorrow...
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I ride one stop and transfer to the U6. While waiting for the train, I heard the same message I've been hearing since I got here, an announcment in German and English about the temporarily shortened U6 route (due to construction.) The English announcement said something to the effect of "reaching your final destination," and I thought: What's my final destination? What's anyone's "final destination?"

Star dust, maybe. Disincorporated atoms that attach themselves to molecules later on. Parts of us end up as a dog turd, a diamond, an ancient manuscript, or in the air that flies into Rick Perry's nose when he inhales. But of course, Rick Perry has never inhaled...
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The test was simple. Possible perfect score is 88 points, and you only need 44 to pass (!)

She allowed about an hour for the test but most of us finished in less than 30 minutes. We get our scores tomorrow.

Those of us who finished early gathered in the hall. I found myself with the three Africans---a man from Nigeria, a man from Gambia, and a woman from Congo. All very nice people, and they all speak English as well as at least one other language.

Africans have it a bit tough in Europe. Europe isn't used to outsiders but for the last forty years or so there have been more and more outsiders streaming in. Hell, the Germans are swarming into Austria because their universities are filling up and they can't get admitted there, so they come to Austria. Which annoys the Austrians. But at least the Germans have a common language (allegedly, according to B) and aren't noticeably different. The Africans like me because I make it a point to greet each of them every day in a friendly way, accept their handshakes, smile and laugh with them. I grew up around African Americans and am comfortable with black people, and I think the Africans find it a relief not to have to wonder if somebody dislikes them just because they're outsiders. Hell, I'm an outsider. We all are, in this class...
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After class, I stood outside talking with my Serbian classmate. He's the 2nd oldest geezer in class, me being the oldest geezer.

His wife is Serbian by birth but has Austrian citizenship. They're newly married. She's been here 14 years. But Goran, he can only visit 90 days at a time then he has to go outside the EU (in has case, back to Belgrade) then re-enter for another 90 days. Same with me. Neither of us is a citizen of an EU country, though Serbia is trying to get in.(I'm not holding my breath that they'll admit the US to the EU, however.)

"Goran---next time I come here, if I'm not a legal resident yet, I'll stay 90 days then go back to Belgrade with you. You can show me around. We can get drunk, then come back to Vienna and re-start the clock."

"Ah, Mr. John, I do not drink alcohol!"

"Don't worry. I can drink enough for both of us."
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Goran took off. A few minutes later B pulled up. We were on our way to the swimmin' hole. It's another hot day in Vienna.

We went there, laid around, read, I studied some German and talked to B's mom and dad, we swam.

The most noteworthy thing to me was the behavior of the fish. They swim just under the surface and you can see them clearly. There are large carp about 2 feet long, as well as little fish, like minnows. They're constantly cruising for food and when one of the swimmers decides to throw some fish food in the water, it churns like it's boiling, the fish are so frenzied.

I was eating a sandwich. I tossed a couple of breadcrumbs in and noticed something:

The lucky fish closest to the offering was quick to grab the breadcrumb. But nearby fish noticed his sudden move toward the food, which in turn caused them to race for the crumb, which by then had already been gulped down. But then fish further out noticed this action and reacted to it in turn, moving in a kind of mini-frenzy, hoping they'd stumble upon a crumb or be able to intimidate the smaller fish who were hoping to latch on. This whole chain of events took maybe two seconds, and it was for one fucking crumb.

I repeated the process several times, fascinated by it, because it reminded me of something.

I thought: "Huh. A feeding frenzy. Just like that fucking Wall Street."

Tuesday: Sievering

After class today, I went to a Chinese place for lunch, then took the bus out to Sievering.

But it's been almost-Oklahoma hot since Sunday--and almost no air conditioning here, remember--so I wasn't too interested in roaming around too long. Got a few pics (below) then came home, took a shower, and am going to spend the evening studying for my German test tomorrow (the school's test to see if you can enroll in the next class, not Austria's test to see if you know enough German to get residency. Two different tests.)

B told me some of Vienna's richest people live in Sievering.
Judging from the size of this place, perhaps.

A mofo can't even take a pleasant walk without have to deal with MIDGETS.

I love this old French beater.

Sculpture on a pillar at the church in Sievering.

Sleepyheads of Vienna, if I catch you snoozing in public, I shall photograph you.
This is your first and only warning.

I love this statue of a grape-harvesting guy
with his grape-harvesting basket on his back.

Small sculpture in front of a commercial establishment.

A moped with a wine barrel on the back.
An indispensible bit of gear for the urban cyclist.

Another Bike Ride / Visit To Friends

Saturday afternoon, a bike ride along the Marchfeldkanalradweg. Which is a poly-syllabic word meaning "Morava Plain canal bicycle path."

The canal was built for the farmers as an irrigation canal. It runs through a district in Northern Vienna before continuing out into the countryside. The good thing for us, and hundreds of other people, is that they built a path along the canal for bicyclists. So off we went.

The canal isn't always this straight; often it curves and twists.

We caught these deer running from one planted field, across an unplanted field, only to hide in the next planted field on the other side. Beautiful animals.

We stopped several times to ask directions in town before finding the path along the canal. People were friendly but they didn't always give accurate directions. B's father says most people simply don't know how to give concise, accurate directions. He, and B, should have been navigators by profession----I've never known anyone more fascinated by maps or in knowing where they are precisely at any given moment than B and her father. They're like human GPS devices.

It was a wonderful ride in perfect weather along the canal and surrounding farm fields. We saw onions and pumpkins and corn and lots of sugar beets in the fields.

We rode maybe 20 kilometers or so and came to a town called Deutsch Wagram, where we caught a train back to Vienna. And on the train, shortly after boarding, we were visited by the conductor who checked our tickets. Which were in order. Except, our bikes also had to have tickets, and they didn't. WTF?

Cost for each human to ride back to Vienna: 3.60 Euro. Cost for each bike: 5 Euro.

B and the conductor got into a philisophical discussion about this, the conductor explaining that the 5 Euro fee was good all day, not just for a ride back to Vienna. It was also notable that, while bikes were allowed on the train, there's no convenient place to put them once inside---you just hope the train isn't crowded as hell (which it wasn't---it was pretty empty, in fact) when you decide to climb aboard.
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After a brief rest, we took the car to visit our friends I and E in their new house.

Previously, they'd been living for 26 years in a fine old apartment. They really liked it. But the owner convinced them to move out, because the place was rent controlled and he knew he could sell it for a fortune once he got them out of there. (When they'd first moved there, the rent was cheap. And more or less stayed that way. And the landlord started smelling money, but in some cases their hands are tied, and then they have to play ball, or else. I like this system!)

And how did he convince them to move out? By giving them 80,000 Euro to do so. Which sounds like a lot, but he'll get 400,000 Euro when he sells the place, so WTF.

Anyhow, with heavy hearts and a now-heavy wallet, they moved out and bought a house in a nice part of Vienna, then spent a bunch of money renovating it. And it really is a beautiful place---four floors, basement - attic, and a nice yard in back. New deck, retractable sunscreen roof, etc. Very Euro-modern and beautiful.

But after months of hassling with craftsmen and the architect and etc. etc. they're pretty tired and ready to be done with it. This is the story I hear every time somebody tells me about a renovation----Jesus, what a hassle.

But they get a nice view of this neighborhood in Vienna...

After a couple hours visiting with I and E on their deck, we drove home and had a good meal: pizza.

And watched a movie on TV about how insipid modern television is. The irony wasn't lost on us.