Lesson #2 - On the usefulness of being useful...
On Monday one of the teachers from the technical school commandeered me to spend some time with her two children, partly as babysitter but mainly as general English influence! Excitingly, they live in somewhere that is not Kapfenberg...
Susanne picked me up the nice big family car that appears to be requisite in Austria however many children you have, and we drove off along windy-windy roads, through pine-covered valleys just wide enough for a river and a road, chatting about nothing until suddenly stark rock appeared straight ahead: the Hochschwab. The Real Mountains. :D
Had to bump up a real mountain road too, which is pleasantly jolty. Affords a sunny view out over another village. I love the way the mountainside seems to just spill down with the houses perched on top. And there's definitely a a different shade of green here. Bright Alpen green. Although i find it hard to believe that some dedicated Almsman has wandered over the hills with a lawn-mower, that is what it looks like! So tidy compared with the unruly pine-coated mounds surrounding Kapfenberg.
To add to the impression of increasing rurality we even meet a young man on a tractor wearing the traditional Styrian cap-and-feather. However, he looks suspiciously like the young man from the trendy wine advert, who also sports just such a hat...
The house is lovely and feels a bit like a farm-house - all different levels, and rooms leading off little rooms. But with additions befitting the beautiful location, like unexpected balconies! Both the house and the village are perfect for autumn. Wooden rooves, red-flowered balconies, and a church spire that contrives to appear tall (!). Sunlight seems to get everywhere, even into the shadows. But, whatever effect my ridiculous descriptive efforts may create, it’s NOT twee. Someone much better aquainted with the country has said that Austria has a talent for merging old and new, and I can certainly testify to that. If you want to see it properly explained you need to go to Graz and see how they’ve put modern architecture into a lovely old city. Somehow they’ve managed it so that neither has to feel inferior or superfluous.Cambridge could learn!
Thom has maths homework to do, so Alex takes me off to the park where I am required to watch and occasionally pass judgement on bike antics. Essentially, he and friend Manuel ride full-pelt downhill towards a lump and attempt to get some air under the tires. Their concentration is intense, but I confess that leaning against a tree, with the sun in my eyes, mine wanders. Wintry blue sky, firey autumn trees, bright summer sunshine… Leaves are falling all around like bits of burnt out sunlight still glinting. Am reminded as to why poets make such a fuss about nature! And frustrated that I am not such. Noone should be allowed these kinds of experiences unless they are capable of sharing them adequately!
Rêveries interrupted and I obligingly trot off after the 7-yr-olds, who spare little thought for the fact that they are on bikes and I am on legs. There follows a giggly and extensive game of football in lovely ramshackle garden, which is surprisingly good for my vocab (Tor = goal, Angriff = striker = not Fi!). During penalty shootout (or ‘eleven paces’ as it’s called here) Alex kindly begins awarding ½ goals for those shots that get ‘near’ the net. When he begins adding 1/4s, I realise that I am a defender at heart. And foot.
The two younger ones subside into wrestling and I watch the mountains, as does Tom from his bike. Eating apples off the tree just like home :)
Then it’s inside for homework. Listen to Alex read a poem about kites, as much a learning process for me as for him, then test Thom on a ridiculous amount of English vocab. To round off the evening, Alex attempts to teach me Magic the Gathering in German. I am left with less understanding than I started out with, but that doesn’t stop me being horribly thrashed.
Home on a darkened bus, searching for the right words to describe my feelings about Austria. Gemütlichkeit’ (comfort) seems as near as I can get.
Susanne picked me up the nice big family car that appears to be requisite in Austria however many children you have, and we drove off along windy-windy roads, through pine-covered valleys just wide enough for a river and a road, chatting about nothing until suddenly stark rock appeared straight ahead: the Hochschwab. The Real Mountains. :D
Had to bump up a real mountain road too, which is pleasantly jolty. Affords a sunny view out over another village. I love the way the mountainside seems to just spill down with the houses perched on top. And there's definitely a a different shade of green here. Bright Alpen green. Although i find it hard to believe that some dedicated Almsman has wandered over the hills with a lawn-mower, that is what it looks like! So tidy compared with the unruly pine-coated mounds surrounding Kapfenberg.
To add to the impression of increasing rurality we even meet a young man on a tractor wearing the traditional Styrian cap-and-feather. However, he looks suspiciously like the young man from the trendy wine advert, who also sports just such a hat...
The house is lovely and feels a bit like a farm-house - all different levels, and rooms leading off little rooms. But with additions befitting the beautiful location, like unexpected balconies! Both the house and the village are perfect for autumn. Wooden rooves, red-flowered balconies, and a church spire that contrives to appear tall (!). Sunlight seems to get everywhere, even into the shadows. But, whatever effect my ridiculous descriptive efforts may create, it’s NOT twee. Someone much better aquainted with the country has said that Austria has a talent for merging old and new, and I can certainly testify to that. If you want to see it properly explained you need to go to Graz and see how they’ve put modern architecture into a lovely old city. Somehow they’ve managed it so that neither has to feel inferior or superfluous.Cambridge could learn!
Thom has maths homework to do, so Alex takes me off to the park where I am required to watch and occasionally pass judgement on bike antics. Essentially, he and friend Manuel ride full-pelt downhill towards a lump and attempt to get some air under the tires. Their concentration is intense, but I confess that leaning against a tree, with the sun in my eyes, mine wanders. Wintry blue sky, firey autumn trees, bright summer sunshine… Leaves are falling all around like bits of burnt out sunlight still glinting. Am reminded as to why poets make such a fuss about nature! And frustrated that I am not such. Noone should be allowed these kinds of experiences unless they are capable of sharing them adequately!
Rêveries interrupted and I obligingly trot off after the 7-yr-olds, who spare little thought for the fact that they are on bikes and I am on legs. There follows a giggly and extensive game of football in lovely ramshackle garden, which is surprisingly good for my vocab (Tor = goal, Angriff = striker = not Fi!). During penalty shootout (or ‘eleven paces’ as it’s called here) Alex kindly begins awarding ½ goals for those shots that get ‘near’ the net. When he begins adding 1/4s, I realise that I am a defender at heart. And foot.
The two younger ones subside into wrestling and I watch the mountains, as does Tom from his bike. Eating apples off the tree just like home :)
Then it’s inside for homework. Listen to Alex read a poem about kites, as much a learning process for me as for him, then test Thom on a ridiculous amount of English vocab. To round off the evening, Alex attempts to teach me Magic the Gathering in German. I am left with less understanding than I started out with, but that doesn’t stop me being horribly thrashed.
Home on a darkened bus, searching for the right words to describe my feelings about Austria. Gemütlichkeit’ (comfort) seems as near as I can get.
posted by Little Fi | 1:18 PM
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