Big Rocks (aka New Year's Resolutions) - Part II

A month in the Enns Valley is just what I needed to gain some perspective.  2009 was a whirlwind of searching out job opportunities and trying to find a way to stay in Austria.  When that didn't work out, I spent the last few months of the year playing catch-up at LSU, teaching four (count 'em FOUR) courses and generally working nine to five.  All my writing projects and plans for getting back to Austria went on hold.

But I've had time in the last few days of 2009 to reconsider my goals.  Here are my "big rocks"

1) Follow-up on job opps in Austria (and search out new opps if current ones fall through)
2) Write something every day
3) Spend less frivolous time on the Internet
4) Be more focused
5) Live a healthier lifestyle

With those resolutions having been set in pixels, I assume that at the stroke of midnight I will become a serene and productive dervish (I'll be the one wearing pistachio!).

For a fascinating article on female dervishes, click the picture!

Christmas Renewal

My first job as a Christmas clerk in a garden center forever changed the way I look at Christmas in the U.S. Instead of the magical childhood memories of handmade sequined stockings hanging by the fireplace, listening to Ludwig Thoma's Heilige Nacht on Christmas Eve and snowy trips to grandma's house, Christmas retail is one of the deepest levels of hell.  From the non-stop electronic Christmas music to selling kittens and puppies of dubious origin, from the unreasonable demands of procrastinating customers to the kitsch, kitsch, kitsch, kitsch!

Christmas in rural Austria is a return to the magic of childhood.  Yes, there is a commercial aspect, but it ends exactly at 2:00 pm on Christmas Eve.  From that time on, Christmas is all about church and family.

Before mass at 5:30 pm, nearly everyone visits the cemetery to light candles on the graves of their loved ones.  Then the entire town proceeds to the church, not one by one, but as a whole community while a brass band plays a processional on the main square.

The (unheated!) church is ablaze with candles, even those decorating the Charlie Brown Christmas tree on the altar.  Christmas carols played by a Styrian trio float down from the balcony.  The air, thick with incense and pine, jingles with offerings well into the Communion liturgy. After being greeted, led in prayer, serenaded, absolved, blessed, and dismissed, the entire congregation meets outside on the street and disperses family by family to their individual Christmas dinners and gift exchanges.

After a hearty meal including all of the Austrian food groups (fried meat, potatoes, rice, and pumpkinseed oil), cherished gifts were given and received.  Then I enjoyed the close harmony of a family singing songs both sacred and profane, accompanied by piano, guitar, Bohemian bagpipes and zither.  When I walked home late that night, I reflected on the many wonderful gifts of God:  good health, dear friends, close family, air travel, music, high mountains, bright stars and the Son.

Big Rocks (aka New Year's Resolutions) - Part I

Do y'all know the Big Rocks parable?   A physics professor walks into class with a bucket full of big rocks.  He asks the students if the bucket is full.  They, of course, answer "yes."  Then he takes a bunch of pebbles, and pours them into the bucket, where the pebbles search out the spaces between the big rocks.  "Now is it full?"  he asks.  The class is a little more skeptical.  He then takes several handfuls of sand, which seek out the spaces between the big rocks and the pebbles.  "Is the bucket full now?" "No!" answers the class.  The professor pours in a gallon or so of water, filling in the spaces between the big rocks, pebbles and sand grains.

He then explained that there's always a way to fit more into a defined space, whether it's a bucket or the hours in a day.  But you can only fit it all in if you start with the big rocks.  If you start with sand and pebbles, the big rocks won't fit in -- no way, no how.

I hope you all have a chance to think about your Big Rocks in the next few days. Stop back here on New Year's Day and let me know what they are!

forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit

Between the last week of classes and my first final on December 8, I made a flying trip to Iowa.  Who does that?!?

It was a good trip.  Did some shopping, did some networking, but most of all I wanted to attend the memorial service for Roger Hornsby, my undergraduate advisor at the U of Iowa, who died in October. 

Roger Hornsby (second from left) and his wife, Jessie (center)
at St. Peter's Cathedral in Rome

Roger was a friend of the family long before he was my advisor.  That I ended up studying classics was complete chance, and I'm so glad I got the chance to learn Latin when I did.  Gerda Seligson, who co-wrote our textbook, Latin for Reading, was a visiting professor and she and Roger devised a way to teach Latin that made the transition from language learning to application less traumatic for students. The second year courses were taught by the same method as the elementary levels which allowed us to translate all four Catilinarian orations by Cicero in the third semester, and two or three books of Vergil's Aeneid in the fourth semester.  Unfortunately I can't convince my colleagues that this can be accomplished.

We students were introduced to all that academic life entailed, including elegant cocktail parties at the Hornsbys.  Their apartment was decorated with antique furniture and deep blue velvety carpet.  Jazz was always playing on the stereo, and caterers made sure the guests had enough wine and nibbly things.  This introduction to social graces is also something I've never experienced at any other university.

In addition to Latin, Roger taught a course entitled Concept of the City of Rome which provided background about Roman institutions.  I assisted him in the preparation of a corresponding art course, Concept of the City of Rome II:  Renaissance to Fascism, which he co-taught with Dr. John "Comments or Observations?" Scott.  A few of Roger's more promising students were invited to participate in Concept of the City of Rome III: On Location, an informal 10-day tour of Rome during which he and Dr. Scott showed us everything they thought students should see on their first trip to Rome.  This included many non-Roman churches and expensive restaurants.  I still remember eating at the foot of the Temple of the Sibyl in Tivoli where every table was "Reserved" until the guests passed the riff-raff test.  Never mind that Roger's laundry bill at his hotel cost as much as my entire stay in the Albergo Lago di Alleghe for the same amount of time!

Roger wanted all of his students to share his love of Latin literature, Roman culture, travel and the finer things in life.  Many of his students are happy to pass those lessons on!

Dasein ist köstlich...

Caution:  Amateur linguistics ahead!

Whenever a student wrestling with a Latin, Greek or German text says "I know what it means, I just can't translate it," my usual response is "bull-hockey."  But today I want to explain the title of my blog for my non-German speaking friends, and find that "I know what it means, but..."

The title of my blog is a quote from Austrian poet, Peter Rosegger.  It is hard to capture the meaning in English.  Dasein is an abstract noun formed by the verb sein ("to be, exist") and the adverb da, meaning "there" (it can also mean "here"). So dasein means something like "being there" or "living in the present."  Köstlich is also tricky.  It's an adjective used mostly for food; food that is köstlich is "tasty" or "delicious."  It can also mean "delightful" or "blissful."  However "To be there is delightful" loses something in translation.  For me it means "To enjoy life in a place you love with all five senses is the most wonderful thing in the world." 

Let me give you an example:  This morning I woke up in the Enns Valley, the place where I feel most at home in the world.  I arrived yesterday and have enjoyed the cold sting of  -18º Celsius and the warm embrace of friends welcoming me back; the taste of brioche with butter and Austrian cappuccino for breakfast in an old-style coffee house with its Christmasy green and red decor; the smell of roast chicken at a curbside stand and of smoky pubs; the sound of Stoansteirisch (the local dialect) and the mountain brook that bubbles past my door; the sight of the Grimming, Christmas lights in every little town square, the bus driver's smile, the frantic last-minute shopping at what passes for a mall around here.

The rest of the quote is easily translated:  man muss nur den Mut haben, sein eigenes Leben zu führen means "one must simply have the courage to live his own life" (with no apologies to those of you who have nothing better to do than to criticize the fact that common gender in English just happens to look like the masculine).  It's taken me many years to realize that I can make my own decisions even in the face of disapproval and there's been heartbreak along the way.  But I'm confident that everything in my life has happened just the way it was supposed to, and brought me to this place.  I'm actively pursuing my dreams, and right here, right now dasein ist köstlich!

Where the wild things are

Louisiana is famous for its wildlife, and since I live just a block or so away from the University Lakes, I see more than my fair share (not that I'm complaining!). I have to carry my camera wherever I go or I'll miss sights like this:

Do you think he's dreaming of being the Coca Cola Christmas truck?

 

This egret chose to dine on geckos at the LSU Law School!

I call this one "Cajun Christmas Tree" (with exclusive cormorments!)

Louisiana Heron (or are we calling it Tricolor Heron now?)