Oktoberfest - because beer is food! (day I)

We got up at 9:00 every day, and by 10:30 we were drinking beer and shouting out drinking songs in German, with a bunch of drunk people. Man, I had a fucking blast. We sat next to all sorts of people from all over the world, well mainly Americans, don't know why. Beer brought us together. In beer we trust - together we drink, divided we fall and wake up with a hangover. 


On the first day we we're so tired and the first beer hit me like a derailed train. It spun me into the arms of the woman sitting next to me, she accepted me, gladly. I remember her wacky friends calling us "The chosen ones" I guess because we're Jewish and from Israel. They were a happy bunch and made our first day at the festival memorable. I can't really say I remember much of the conversation, but I remember everything felt good with a mixture of alcohol and jetlag.


After two or maybe three beers, a decision was made, let's hop to another tent and try a different beer. Well, that was an ambitious move, or maybe just a wrong move. Moving in general was hard. I remember climbing out of my sit and somehow finding myself outside back in the arms of that open hearted lady, all the while, her good friend was puking and/or fainting (I was obviously not paying any attention). I was holding my hat in one hand and my coat with the other, while my arms were around her, and at the same time tried to grab her arse. It's funny I still cared about the hat, I didn't want it get dirty. My friends were standing there beside me, laughing and talking in Hebrew about the situation, just loud enough for me to somehow pay attention to them. Eventually we departed, mainly because her friend needed medical attention.


We barely made our way back to the apartment. It's a miracle we didn't end up lost or in need of medical attention as well. I remember waiting at the bus station, crouched in the corner, wasted. We than slept for like 16 hours and woke up the next day to drink again!

Every day was a new challenge which we accepted!

On the edge of change

The room is clean and bright. In the middle of the room stands a white oak desk, next to it are two matching wooden chairs. The eastern wall is made out of a large window that opens into a garden, light and green. At nights, it is lit by Chinese lanterns that are neatly hidden, so you can still enjoy light from the moon and the stars. The northern wall is lined with shelves from the floor up to the ceiling. On those shelves is an old collection of books and records. To get to the top shelf you have to use a ladder, which lies on a built in rail. You can hear instrumental music playing from every corner of the room. The music is subtle and creates a brilliant atmosphere. But this is not the reality I live in, this picture only exists on my computer screen. The walls in my room are mostly covered with dirty white paint.

"Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes…"

David Bowie is singing on my stereo. Bowie himself didn't believe it would turn out to be such a time-warping, ground breaking hit. Our lives are not standing still. At any given moment external and internal changes occur. Some days look the same but the ripples keep morphing their shape as they follow the stream. The waves keep crashing towards the shore, to make room for the next ones. This picture might seem gloomy, but the insight from it is important and is liberating. 

The second year, out of three, of my BA in Psychology which has come to an end, carried many changes with it. Time changes you and you can't trace time. But I can follow the trail it left in my head and recall. I realize that as I recall time changes everything again, but I can't help it. I often recall the times when I didn't believe in change, but these days it seems more and more like a distant memory. This thought makes me happy.

At the beginning of my second year I got to taste the fruit I've carefully cultivated the year before. But it didn't stop me from planting new trees. Some trees have strong roots and will survive anywhere, and some like bonsai trees need more attention.

I grew a lot this past year. I'm more connected with my emotional side, which makes me happy. A change I was hoping for (in hindsight). I owe a lot of this growth potential to the people I got to meet this year; (I spent 5 hours each week, talking with patients, at the hematology-oncology ward), Strangers that shared their ideas, hopes, dreams, thoughts, ups and downs with me. They were all coping with a reality that no one hopes for. The conversations we had and the guidance that went with it, made it very life changing for me (yes, I said life changing – you can punch me now). I got to see more and more of the puzzle. I'm truly glad to have experienced that. 

My High-school literature teacher told us once that you shouldn't congratulate people with "You are great, and I hope you stay this way" because it implies no change! And change is something to look forward to, scary as it is. I'd like to use the word more and change its connotation to positive development. At times like these, I find myself at awe of the optimism I'm showing, quite disturbing, but not in bad way. I guess it’s a part of the change. 

I'm not an antelope!

This is the really short version of the two months I spent studying for a major exam. This exam sometimes outweighs the entire BA degree, when one is being considered for his Masters degree by the admissions Committee. 

So I took a special course to prepare for it:

First meeting

We met at the student's union building. The entrance was at the top of the mountain and the lift took us 3 floors down the mountainside. The meeting, according to the sign at the entrance, took place at the bottom floor, so into the lift we went. A drop I can't say I fully recovered from (well, maybe I have but it sounds more dramatic this way). 

Stacks of different colored books were lined up on tables, croissants and coffee too. In between the crowd I met a few smiling faces, friends that got there earlier. At the tables we presented our ID's and were handed heavy bags with books in them. I shoved the big bag into my backpack, which made me feel like I was carrying the weight of full diving gear outside the water. I hoisted the backpack on my shoulder and made my way over to the coffee stand to grab a cup. Adjacent to the room we were in, was an amazing balcony. The balcony stood on a slope and provided an amazing view of the bay. There was a nice breeze that helped carry the heat from my body. The heat was building up since we got there. I was already nervous. I felt my pulse rising. Although this was only a formal meeting and the course didn't even start yet, they made us take an exam. I knew they didn't expect much and that it didn't mean anything, but it was still a test. 

At these situations, my body usually has a mind of it's own. And in this mind I'm an antelope that is being chased by a starved crazy uber-lion. It thinks I need to lose weight in order to run faster  - that is a nice way of saying I can't leave the toilet for a while, which is a nice way to say that I can't stop...well you get it. 

I realize it's only a test and that it isn't a life/death situation but my body is not listening. Why won't it cooperate? my pulse is firing a million rounds a minute and my pupils are widening - and I'm like, seriously? I'm not a bloody antelope. Stop this at once! Have you ever heard of an antelope playing "Angry Birds" on the toilet? 

A month later

I was half way through the journey that leads to the final and painful exam. It was a Saturday, and I was having a light meal and cup of coffee, as I was getting ready to take a 3.5 hours simulation examination. This was my first simulation, one of many to come. This was a short version of the exam, not a proper simulation. The actual exam is 5.5 hours long. I remember shifting a lot in my chair and getting up to wash my face a few times. At the end of it, I was tired, I had headache and my throat was dry. 

...............

I spent the two months studying like a maniac. I woke up every day and sat next to my desk to study. Hard. I spent most of my time answering questions and reading articles and answering more questions. It was frustrating, extremely demanding and sometimes unbearable. My mind was always busy. I did allow myself to go out, drink (mostly water and in moderation), and hang out with friends (study buddies). It all sounds very nerve wrecking and it was. I was actually doing OK compared to others, but it definitely got to me. If it didn't get to you, well then you should probably consider a career as a hired gun man, or admit yourself to a psychiatric hospital.

Nevertheless, I did learn new things about myself. I've learned that my will is as strong as an ox and that I'm flexible enough not to break under such pressure. I made new friends, visited new places and expanded my view a little more.

D-Day

I was the first one out. I handed in my exam and stepped out of the classroom. A guy and girl were walking towards me, the girl was holding a floating Sponge-Bob Balloon. "Are you the first one out?" she asked me, and I nodded 'yes' with my head. "Is this for me? I pointed at the balloon. She smiled and said "no, I'm waiting for my friend to finish". I carried on, out of the building, slowly realizing I'm free, I don't have to get up tomorrow and study like crazy. The exam was finally behind me. The exam was hard as expected, but I had a good feeling. I gave it everything I had. And now there was nothing left to do but wait.

12 hours after the exam

I'm in a cab on my way to the airport, on my knees is a big pointy hat. I'm very tired, because just after the exam I went with two friends to celebrate at a bar. When I got home it was already dark outside, and I had to start packing. I just couldn't bring myself to pack the night before the exam. So I got very little sleep, and in the middle of the night I took a cab to the airport. At the airport I met my friends and we boarded a plane to Munich, Germany.

About 6 hours later

We climbed out of the underground station and on to the street, alongside many others to celebrate Oktoberfest, the closest thing you get to an adult version of Disneyland. 

to be continued... 

The one with the final comments

The bad:

Public transportation up north where I live is horrendous. 

So I get around a lot, like most people, by hitchhiking. I've gotten used to it, but sometimes it is a real pain in the arse. I think I would have been much happier if I had a car for only those two weeks of the excavation. 

I wanted to spend more time with everybody and go out to the pub at night with them, but unfortunately that didn't happen. 

The good:

Google translate is bringing the people closer together. The fact that I can even translate Facebook posts on the spot, is just brilliant. With one click I can translate an entire page from Swedish to English, although, it's still not perfect, it does the job most of the time.

General thoughts:

We are very much the same.

We use the same public network, talk on the same mobile phone, watch the same films, read the same books, etc. There are certain variations, but it's not that different as a whole. It definitely helps to bridge geographical and language gaps. I'm also aware that I'm referring to students, mostly, and to the ones that are actually curious, broad minded and connected to the contemporary world (FB, Iphone 5 and the big bang theory).

Closing thoughts:

I'm glad I don't have to get up at 5am anymore. 

I miss some of the new people I've met, and I hope to see them again in the future. 

I should have kept a flint to put on my shelf.

"Be excellent to each other"
'til next time...

Is that a bone in your square or are you just happy to see me?

I can't escape the fact that I'm an Israeli citizen but I like to think of myself as a citizen of the world. I've always had a soft spot for whatever lies beyond the realms of Israel. It still has a memorizing effect on me.

I like my English-Australian-unique accent I've developed over the years, probably due to endless hours of listening to British radio stations and watching British television. I also can't really remember myself ever having an Israeli accent. I think I might like to study abroad one day, and maybe even stay there if it works out.

But at the moment, I really like where I am. 

Well that is enough about me, back to our story...

The sun is high up in the sky, I'm surrounded by mud and busy excavating.

Laura from Italy is discovering ancient cow bones, and I'm working with Marion on her square. 

Next to us is Yorch, the guy from Spain. I swear he sounds exactly like Pedro from "Napoleon dynamite".  A couple of squares to the south were Conny and Francesco, working on squares slightly higher from ours. 

The others were either sieving or excavating somewhere else. Digging takes more concentration than sieving, so most of the interesting conversations took place in the sieving area. Once in a while someone would shout out about something he or she had found, like a tooth or a nice looking piece of flint. I was moved from me old square to Marion's square, where I had some nice finds, a few bones and a cool flint. 

I was pleasantly surprised to realize I was excited about these finds. Finally my work had paid off. Everything we did had to be documented, and Maya, the one in charge of the excavation, marked everything with her laser guided missile device. The information gathered from the  laser-camera-computer thingamabob is used to create a 3D image of the site. 

Meanwhile in the sieving area...

I kept imagining a really big centrifuge that will separate the mud of from the actual findings, but I guess Men-power, scratch that, Student-power is much cheaper. We used a sieve that was made out of a plastic box with a metal net in it. We emptied one bucket at a time into the sieve and took it down to the river. Shaking and rubbing the mud through the holes, a very nice homage to El Dorado and the washerwomen and their washboards, is a boring but semi-therapeutic job. While sieving we talked about everything from food to booze to internet prices (25 shekels for 100mbit dl/ul (!) in Sweden), to pass the time.

I like being stuck with people (certain people) in the same place for hours. It separates you from everything else, and since you're also doing some Sisyphean task, you might as well have a conversation to pass the time. I think it is a great way to get know each other. 


It seems this story is turning into a quadrilogy (I've always wanted to use this word). 
So to be continued once again...

Mud tales - part 2

There is nothing like a muddy shower to get you going in the morning. The whole experience was very muddy. I sat in mud and had mud between my toes and up to my nose.  To mud... and beyond. Besides the.. um... mud, there was the Jordan river. The water was nice and not too cold. Except for the occasional pesky crab, I really enjoyed diving into it. In the early morning time I even got to see a lutra swimming in the river. There was also a rat in the river once. The most interesting and scary thing to come out of there was a snake, a baby viper. 

I got up from sieving and there it was, just beneath me, hissing and moving about. 

Eventually we got it back into the water and it slithered down stream, but it did cause a bit of a scare.

When I wasn't sieving, I was busy demolishing bits and pieces from the past.

How long ago you ask? Estimated at 60 bloody thousand years!

It was back when you had different Homos roaming around the earth, not only the latest limited edition  H. sapiens sapiens. My demolition rate was excruciatingly slow and confined to a 1x1m square. The first square they had me on was a poor one.I spent my first week digging in that square and found absolutely nothing. By that time I've lost all hope to be excited by anything I might find in the future.  However, I soon realized it wasn't about the actual work, and no, I don't mean it was a spiritual thing, I mean it was about the the people I got to meet.

The excavation was a global experience, well, not as global as it was a European one. I met a couple from Italy, a couple from Sweden, a guy from Spain, and 3 more girls from Austria, France and England (one of each).

They made it all worth while. The digging and sieving had their charm, despite the many calluses, bruises and cuts on my hands, but meeting new, interesting and beautiful people is what made me get up in the morning.

more to come right after the break..

It's adventure time!

This is the story of how I took part in an archaeological dig.

Now, I'd be lying if I called this thing a "trip", because of a few things:

1. Too close to home

2. It was mandatory 

3. I didn't actually move from one place to another

But then again, who cares?

I mean who says I can't have a trip that is close to my home, it's not like it was in my backyard. A mind trip is also a trip. From another POV calling something 'mandatory' is just another choice we make. And I can't really argue with my last point, but 2/3 is good enough for me.

I woke up at 5 am every morning, or should I say every night. Only the light of the street lamps had shone through my bedroom window.

They say (some awful people) that you get used to it, but I still doubt it. After finishing my morning routine (brushing my bladder and draining my teeth)  I went out to the balcony where my trousers were hung to dry. I washed my trousers by hand every night before I went to sleep, and they were usually clean and dry by the next morning. Quickly going back inside, because it is cold outside, I went to make myself a cup of Yorkshire tea with a teaspoon of sugar. Hoping that the caffeine and sugar will stir my senses. 

I drank the cup next to my desk whilst checking my emails and such, mostly just staring at the blank screen in front of me.

I've tried catching a few more zzzzz on the ride to the excavation site (30 mins) but due to all the turns and stops on the way it was almost impossible. One time we had to make a long (extra 20 mins) detour because of a roadblock due to an army exercise, boy was I glad. Usually we got to the site just in time to help haul buckets of muddy waters (not the musician) from the excavation area back into the river.

to be continued....