Carole's Livejournal

I'm back. Actually, I got back from sunny Slovakia almost two weeks ago, but only had two days at home before going away again for five days. But now I'm really back. I just need to find a job.

Slovakia was a fascinating place to visit, with deep-scented pine-clad hills and pastoral idylls juxtaposed against the ugliest buildings Communism could commission, pastel-perfect renovated centres, ice-cream even cheaper than the 40p bottles of beer (and damn good beer it was, too) and hospitality for which a simple Dakujem was hopelessly inadequate (but had to do - my command of Slovak vocabulary may have increased tenfold during my visit, but that's not saying much when you've only five words to begin with).

As always, it's the unexpected differences that make a place interesting, little things that the people I've been living with for the last year wouldn't think to mention or deem worthy of a photograph: the kiosks clustered near bus and rail stations, the double house-numbering system and - my personal favourite - 'village information systems' that look (and sound) as if they've come straight from The Prisoner.

Before that I spent two wonderful days in Vienna - you've got to love a city where you can order a coffee and sit chatting for hours without being disturbed. The friends i was staying with are both historians, so I was given a comprehensive tour of the city centre including more Baroque churches than I can remember apart, the best ice-cream shop and an excellent Sushi restaurant that also served schnitzel. I'd love to go back when the Opera is running - hopefully I'll be more awake and less skint next time!

I've been at my parents' house for just over a week now, and am starting to emerge from exhaustion to anxiety. But I'm slowly tying up some loose ends, which feels good.

Off to Vienna on Friday (a mere 23 hour bus journey) to stay with some of my internet friends, before going on to Slovakia to see Martin and Magda. I'm looking forward to seeing where they live - and seeing them, too, away from the stresses of JVC. We ended that as well as we could have, I think, so hopefully we'll be able to have a good time together.

Dad and I worked out that I was last in Vienna 27 years ago. It'll be interesting to see if anything is familiar!

Martin and I went to see The Da Vinci Code on Wednesday - it seemed like an easier way to satisfy my curiousity than wading my way though the book, which I've heard is very badly written.

I was pleasantly surprised by the film - it was rather better than the very sniffy reviews in most of the church newspapers would suggest. Cinematography and music have a big impact on me in a film, and both were nicely done, especially the throbbing strings of the soundtrack (perhaps tapping my foot to it wasn't quite the reaction they were looking for, but it was very enjoyable!)

As for the plot - well, it's utterly silly of course (I couldn't stop giggling in places), but no more so than a lot of other movies. Roger Ebert's review says it best, in my opinion:

I know there are people who believe Brown's fantasies about the Holy Grail, the descendants of Jesus, the Knights Templar, Opus Dei and the true story of Mary Magdalene. This has the advantage of distracting them from the theory that the Pentagon was not hit by an airplane.

I've read a few reviews of the film that complained it cut the characterisation - mainly from fans, I think; most professional reviews said that the book had precious little characterisation to begin with. Still, there were enough intriguing character moments to make me want to read the book, particularly as I won't have to pay for the privilege. Apparently there are 45 reserves on it in the library, but 63 copies on the system, so I shouldn't have to wait for too long.


I hope not being mortally offended doesn't make me a bad Catholic...

A while ago, I decided that after spending rather a lot of time exploring the depths, perhaps it was time to explore the heights and learn more about joy. Lisa, one of my friends from the 'Living Druidry' course, is a very 'sunny' person and I often felt she was just on a different wavelength, accessing something that I could not.

Part of the problem is that 'happiness' often seems very shallow - from the social expectation to party-party at New Year to the requirement of some New Age and Christian groups that their members be (or at least act) 'nice'. I do occasionally experience the depth or intensity in happiness - but rarely for more than a moment or two at a time.

One or two of those moments came on Sunday night, and it struck me then that maybe 'happiness' might come about differently for introverts? So many of the indicators of happiness in our society are extravert characteristics, but parties and dancing are generally something I can take or leave. On New Years night I was with the JVC people and a few of them were very insistent that we all got up and dance. And I did, for a bit, but while some folk there were obviously riding high on it I wasn't the only one who was pretty neutral. To me, the kind of happiness I feel when dancing is like a flame - bright and brief but requiring energy to sustain. Whereas my moments of happiness have come out of stillness, born of an awareness of connection with nature, with a good friend, with my deep self.

The other thing I realised is how difficult it is to find happiness in a culture driven by false images of it. It's easy enough to deride the adverts that claim money and beauty and fast cars and flash holidays to be the way to achieve joy, and perhaps not so difficult to imagine an alternative rooted in conviviality and spirituality, but very difficult - in my experience - to throw off the cultural conditioning that produces a thrill of excitement at the idea of a big salary increase, a new gadget or the opportunity for a dinner or holiday in posher surroundings than usual. It's not that I think there's anything inherently wrong with good food or new things, but my desire for them doesn't feel entirely... clean, if that makes any sense. Not the product of consolation, of putting God at the centre, I suppose.

It feels awfully facile to say that aiming to accumulate material things doesn't bring happiness - how many times have we heard something similar? But to see those things as glittering mirages made the familar truth take on a much deeper feel.

*

On a more mundane level, the rash on my forehead seems to be clearing up - so looks like Mum might have been right about it being due to my hat. Which is a pity, because other than its rash-inducing tendency it really is a comfortable bit of headgear.

The first culture shock was getting on the bus in London and finding that I was only one of about four white people on the bus ... not that I haven't lived in some ethnically diverse areas, but it felt strange to be in the minority.

Then, halfway to Manchester the heavens opened. Stereotype #1 duly fulfilled.

And when I got in the taxi to find a metal grille between me and the driver, I knew I wasn't in Edinburgh anymore...

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Well, for the sake of actually having an entry besides the 'welcome' post, here's some thoughts on my holiday last month....


Flying is a dislocating way to travel - I really wish the trains were cheaper. Sitting on the bus across rainy Monday afternoon Edinburgh, the sunny corner of Milan's Duomo roof where I'd sat that morning seemed... unreal. But I always have problems with time; I don't expect travel experiences to last, of course, but at the time they feel real, natural, and it's 'home' that I can't grasp. While canoeing down the Yukon last summer I knew I'd have to return to work, but I couldn't grasp that the reality of a river trip would give way to the luxuries of showers and flushing toilets and the practicalities of navigating the interlaced networks of modern transport systems. And now it's memory, whatever that is. Does it make a difference that I was there at all?

So I should have written this on the road, really, so it would be my travelling self and not my scared-of-the-world self writing. Still...

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I've created this journal in a last-ditch attempt to keep in better touch with my friends and family.

As I'd rather not make all the details of my life available to the whole 'net, some of these entries are locked. If you know me, comment here and I'll add you to my friends list so you'll be able to read those entries.

(More details on Livejournal's 'friending' system are here.)

For those of you new to Livejournal, you'll have to create your own account so I can add you to the list. Details of how to do this are here. You don't need to pay and you don't need to write your own entries (though I'd love to read them if you do).


Hope to hear from you soon!

Carole
xx