Bitching (abroad and at home)

I flew back from Glasgow to Pittsburgh last evening; I want to bitch for a moment about people bitching about…everything. Americans seem to complain a lot about non-essential matters. I know that these are a limited selection of people I’m observing and, no doubt, I’ve witlessly overheard the same things in other languages around the world—but I’m continually nonplussed with the reactions American travellers have concerning the places they visit. It’s as if everything is not America, then it’s all wrong; excuse me, the point of travel is to go someplace that is not like your home—that’s the point!
I overheard (or was trapped near) several bitching sessions yesterday. Whilst waiting for my connecting flight in Philadelphia, I sat across a middle-aged couple on their way back from holiday (in the Caribbean, I believe; there was mention of islands and they were both browned to a crisp). The woman spoke loudly into her mobile explaining all the woes of the journey; the man sat stone-faced staring off into the distance. She went on about how it rained, things were too expensive, the food was different, there were people speaking languages she didn’t understand, the beach was filled with skinny people (they were both grossly overweight), they should have gone on a cruse instead, there was nothing to do at the resort but sit around, there weren’t enough places to shop, it was hot, on and on and on! Madam, I have a solution for you: Stay At Home! Do Not Leave the Country! If you honestly cannot gain anything from even this limited cross-cultural experience, just don’t attempt it; you are re-enforcing the Ugly American stereotype and we don’t need that at the moment. (The best part was after she hung up, she turned to her husband and said that the person she was speaking with didn’t even ask how the trip was…she just had to tell it all without prompting. Did you consider that this other person might not have wanted to hear your whining?)

There is so much we can learn whilst travelling; yes, it is different and yes there are often difficulties and trials on the journey. Go, see the world and realise you are not the centre of it; realise that the difficulties you face as a traveller are nothing compared to the everyday matters faced by many of the people you are visiting. But, if you are going to have a mental hernia if there is no ketchup on the table or if you feel you must be rude to the locals as a matter of course, don’t go. Stay on your sofa. Watch television. Get fatter. Your carbon footprint for travel is too high in this case.

Okay, I now have that out of my system…onward.

Should know better

(Sorry I’m posting all these pop culture bits here…will have to get into more “serious” matters soon.)
I saw this video on television earlier today; the lyrics are terribly sad and relate, I think, the feeling that we all have at some time during a relationship. More than anything the lesson we should all learn from this is that, if you are a fairly plain looking English guy, you should just not try it with an spectacularly hot Portuguese woman. If only more plain looking English guys would observe this rule…so much heartbreak would be avoided. (Also, if your hotel room bursts out into flames and your flowers, television and guitar explode—it may be time to forget your relationship woes and flee the scene; there are instructions on the door for evacuation.)

Goth Blugrass

I was listening to Gillian Welch and David Rawlings on the train back from Marseille the other day; I realised that they sing Goth Bluegrass. There is a lot of thematic similarity between the Gothic and the darker elements of Appalachian culture.

And then this is just an outright dark dirge…makes me want to just sit down and stare off deep into the trailer park:

(By the way; these two are spectacular live. I was fortunate enough to see them about ten years ago in Greenville, SC at a small venue.)

EWEC Marseille

I’m back in Strasbourg from Marseille; I was attending the first couple days of the European Wind Energy Conference. This is the big trade show for Europe so all the companies related to wind energy (from those who make little bobs and bits for obscure electrical connexions to the turbine manufacturers) are present and hawking their wares. There were some massive extremely expensive displays (in the, say, half-million dollar range); two of the turbine companies actually bring in the nacelles from a turbine and put them on show! There were also some little booths that looked like high school science projects. Ours was somewhere in-between. We had a big digital display that I created a looping show for (though it was a technical headache figuring it all out; it was three 58 inch plasma screens side-by-side that acted as one very big wide screen). One could see it from far away on the floor and I caught some people sitting at the other stands (some stands had cafés and lounges) staring off at our display. The only problem is that the fellows who made the stand did not build in any provision for ventilation! There are two computers running full on in a cabinet (hot); lamps lighting various panels and pictures (hotter), and the three big screens (there is a reason they are called plasma screens). They got so hot that they warped the vinyl above and beside them; we will have fans installed before the next conference (which is in Houston, so it will probably be hot to begin with). Here is a mobile phone image of the display (I’ve got to get a new digital camera):

A lot of people come over to look at the ZephIR (the Mars lander looking thing) and ask what the heck it is, “Well, sir, it’s a laser anemometer!” The funniest incident was when a group of Japanese people came over and had their pictures taken in front of it. I said, in about a year, the ZephIR will show up in an anime saving the world from invasion.

My only gripe with the conference was that it’s such a tremendous waste. Thousands and thousands of people travel there to attend. Much of the material for the displays gets binned afterward. Lots of energy and material wasted for a “green” conference. There must be some better option for doing these things.

I wish I could have gone to hear the keynote speaker (the chairman of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change). There was also a premiere showing for The Age of Stupid which I want to make a note to see.

Marseille, as it is on the sea, has a port. We went down to the old port for dinner; the first night, we wanted seafood. Unfortunately, the restaurant we chose was all shellfish (which I am mildly allergic to). The only thing on the menu I could eat was salmon and foie gras…so I ate fish from the North Sea and the liver of an abused goose. I have now eaten three things I’ve never had before coming to France. Beef Tartar (raw hamburger with raw egg and spices), foie gras, and then, on the last night in Marseille, I tried someone’s escargot (which I quite liked). Of course, my favourite food is raw octopus; so maybe that’s saying something about my tastes to begin with.

I took the train from Strasbourg to Marseille and back (better for CO2 emissions…though it’s a long ride across the country). Here are a couple random happenings from the trip:

On the morning I left, I did something I almost never do; at the train station, I purchased a sandwich (a 5 Euro sandwich!) which, when I tasted, did not register as “food.” It had no taste whatsoever and was as dry as paper. So—I threw it away along with its unnecessary plastic packaging. I then found a bakery sandwich place, paid three euro for a fresh sandwich that was excellent (and only wrapped with a napkin).

Police stations in France are called Hotel du Police. I did not know this when I saw one from the train; it rather conjured up images of a convict coming in to serve his sentence only to be greeted by a polite policeman in a hotelier’s uniform. “Ah, oui, messier; we are expecting you. We have prepared a room especially for you and hope you find it to your satisfaction. Please let us know if you have any special needs; towels and sheets are changed once a week…no, I am afraid there is no internet; however, there are four channels on the television in the common room.”

On the train, whenever there is an announcement by the conductor, an electronic notification sounds beforehand. This was apparently not working for the return trip. Before the conductor made an announcement, he would say “dong, dong, dong.”

There is a big difference between visiting or living in a small country where people assume you don’t speak the local language—and a large one where they do. Must work on my French.

I’m loving my office here; right now I’m on my lunch break—sitting by the big windows overlooking the street. There is a general strike today; so a lot of people are out walking about.

By the way, I’ve found a flat. Clean and orderly (the two primary components) and still near to my work. I’ll move in tonight and can then get to the actual “settling in” part of things.

Travail

I’m not sure why, but many stories of travel and cultural experience all seem to come round to the subject of laundry. I suspect it’s because there is a great shared human response to living three days past one’s last pair of clear underwear.
Last night, after work, I found a local laundromat; I went their assuming that it would have either a change machine or tokens. (Why would I assume that? What possible reason would I have?) Of course, there were neither of these things; the washing machines needed a pair of two Euro coins to operate and the dryers would only accept fifty cent pieces. With a ten Euro bill in hand, I stepped into a nearby convenience store thinking that, if I purchased something, they would give me my change back in coins. So, quite cleverly, I bought a small box of laundry soap (this would help in the case of language difficulty). The clerk spoke English though…however, his tray was out of two Euro coins. The next stop was a kebab shop (right next to the laundry). The fellow there spoke no English; but he took one look at the detergent under my arm, smiled and gave me change. I would imagine he has a steady stream of foreigners in this predicament (will have to make a note to go there for lunch someday).

After a bit of deciphering, I managed to get the washing machine running and, forty minutes later, I had clean clothing! However, as I began to put it in the dryer, the woman tending the place said, “no; sorry; no time; closing; down street is other wash.” So I walk down street to other wash—which was also closing.

Here in the Strasbourg office, Natural Power analyses wind flow over complex terrain with the aid of a little rack mounted supercomputer…which blows out a lot of heat…all day long. One of my main concerns with energy is the conservation and creative use of waste; so…I hung my wet laundry all over the server.

Then I got an e-mail about a potential flat and went to look (I’m going to take it; nice fellow and good space. It’s just a short term place but at least it will give me a place to be whilst I look further). When I came back to the office the outside doors were locked; I have the keycode, but the door was fully locked with a key (which I don’t have). Claude, a kind co-worker, took me in for the night. I’m sure the cleaning lady, when she came in this morning at six, was rather bemused to find socks and underwear hanging all over the server and break-room.

Overdue update

I’m in Strasbourg—in France—it’s truly lovely. I’ve been here since last Tuesday after obtaining my French visa in London (which was, strangely, a lot less trouble to get despite the French reputation for bureaucracy). Our office here is right off Place Kléber, the main square of the city. Most “nice” cities have a concentrated area of “niceness” where they show off; Strasbourg seems to have spread the “niceness” all around a wide swath of the city. It’s not a stereotypically touristy European city either (they haven’t dressed it up just to attract foreigners); it’s just a beautiful city because—that’s what it is. I’m greatly looking forward to roaming the streets and exploring further (must get a new digital camera to capture some scenes).
I still have not found a place to stay (it’s been hotels and hospitable colleagues so far). On one hand, I would like to be with French folk to work on language and cultural knowledge; however, on the other, I’m thirty-three, like quiet, go to bed at nine and wake at six, and am very orderly. So, maybe I should take care looking for shared space (for my own and my flatmate’s sanity). Hoping to check on some places very soon, but might be a challenge to find the right situation.

It’s great that the office is within walking or easy public transportation distance from anywhere in the city (no more 50 minute ride to work). One of the things that’s given me pause about working in rural Scotland was the fact that my work is rather out in the middle of nowhere. Plus, I’m very keen on good food selections and everything else in a seriously “nice” city (not that I can really afford much in the posh shops at the moment). I’m already afraid I’m really going to like it here and not want to go back (better start working on my French right away).

Work is enjoyable and challenging at the moment; we are preparing for the European Wind Energy Conference in Marseille next week. I’m making a video presentation that will be presented across three big plasma screens at our display booth there. The most challenging part of that is determining all the technical bits required to patch it all together sensibly. I won’t be able to actually test it out on the display till we set up the day before the conference; so—just a little pressure there.

Still existing

Sorry I’ve disappeared from here for a while. I’ve been in the Czech Republic waiting for my French visa to come through (which it has). I’ll be headed back up to England to pick it up shortly and on to France afterward.

Snails rock too

I spotted this on a walk into town today.

Rhythms

Here are a selection of videos that have lodged themselves in my head over the past few days (for some unknown reason):
Alela Diane is an artist I’ve not heard of…but will certainly seek her out more:

This Kelly Osbourne video tries a little too hard to be serious, but I love the style of the era invoked:

And this Röyksopp video is one of my favourites (spooky, but one of my favourites):

What Else Is There? from Röyksopp on Vimeo.