Basel Tag 3

Toilette

Ufer

Enten (die andauernd Rennen machten)

Boot zum überqueren des Rheins

seltsames Gebäude

Basel Tag 1+2

Dreaming of a different world

Rome Diary part 2

31.10.2010

A Nightmare on Elm Street

The Fountain

The Roman Empire

A Nightmare on Elm Street

I slept really badly. The bed is so soft, that my body is hanging. The sheets are thin but hot, and my throat was screaming for water. And the worst part is, I dreamed just stupid nightmare stuff.

The Fountain

Presentation in front of original, after presentation in front of the original, and the teacher playing with the fact, that my subject is just in front of our dormitory and we could do it anytime. After 4 and half hours of running around, he decided to let me do the presentation. I think I did it nice, but more like okay-nice-let-s-continue “nice”. I am totally okay with that. Besides that we saw two churches and its chapels – a place where our teacher tried to get in for 30 years and never was able to manage it. So, for him it was a dream come true. For us, a spectacular play with colored marble and sculptures – and a place, an antique sculpture, where renaissance people invented the yellow-press. Some sort of InTouch of the 16^th century. Funny stories about one of the first porn-scandals in modern European history!

Nearly forgot to write that my camera has got broken, I guess the sensor gone nuts, because it just produces weird colored or black photos.

The Roman Empire

Our teacher declared the afternoon as a day off. Kind of weird that he did it at our first day, because in general you would not get a “day off” (mostly just afternoon) before the fourth day. Lucky us! With a group of 7 people we headed to the next market and shopped for food. Bread, olive-fresh cheese, nuts, croissant and a bottle of water and I had enough food for at least two days. Running through these deep valleys between the huge roman palazzi and normal houses is really nice. Sometimes houses are just black, because of the smoggy air. So, even if it is just three o’clock in the afternoon and the sun is still standing bright, the deep small streets are dark. An atmospheric shift of mood in the second you enter. Maybe you can remind the story of the path between the houses that I sent you once. Where the guy walks along the small path, but never reaches the end. You could find a couple of streets in Rome that would give you just that impression. But less spooky, because too many tourists and Romans are running up and down in the streets.

After a self made lunch of bread and olive-fresh-cheese we met again in front of our dormitory to discover the Capitol and the Forum Romanum. I guess two of one hundred and one tourist hot spots of this city. I have learned that the memorial of Italians first king is frankly called typewriter, of course because of its form. While learning that, we were climbing the stairs to the Capitol, to have a coffee in a not so touristy café on the top. I liked the milk foam and my company, but that was it. Besides, we had an amazing few above the heart of Rome and its funny the way of building houses on or with antique buildings like the Maxentius theater – a huge half circle antique theater and on top a 17^th century palazzo. Next to the Capitols Cardinal palace and in between the typewriter was a church, not really a surprise in Rome, because you can find a church at every corner, if churches would be prostitutes then the city center of Rome would be the Worlds biggest red light district! For reaching this basilica church of the pre renaissance era you had to climb an awful lot of stairs. I “Rocky-ed” them, which means I climbed then by running. I was fast and did not lose my breath when I have reached. Proud of my shape and health ; I waited for the smoking and slow walking ones. The church itself was dark and just a bit of light was falling through the blue, pink and green glasses in the upper-garden of the middle ship. The chapels of the sides were dark, nearly pitch black and when we left the building the dawn was over. Using some stairs at the site of the church, which ended at the Capitol we were wondering why we took the big stairway. Maybe we wanted to see it in a metaphorical stairway to heaven (stupid musical reference) but anyhow, climbing in a Rocky-way was worth it, at least for me!

Next stop was the Forum Romanum at the other side of the Capitol Hill, a wasteland of ruins; amazing and stunning at the same time, and still taking pictures with my broken camera. The stairs, down the hill, have marble ramps where the balustrade is placed on. They are wide enough to slide, so I slide. I was faster sliding, than anybody walking and enjoyed it like a fifteen year old. Boys like to play, sometimes, always and forever!

Next stop the basilica of Constantin and the Collosseum. I am amazed just by the size of Constantin`s building, I love it, even if it is just ruins the size is wonderful. The Collosseum therefore is looking kind of small, but as closer we got, as bigger it got, so that after doing a full circle I was thinking that you should be an antique or late antique roman architect to build something that lasting. Ever since we have reached I saw signs over signs of different popes that left their names at buildings. You can compare the behavior of the clerical headmasters with modern graffiti if you want to. Leaving your tag anywhere people pass and trying to get the best and most exposed side of the building for your huge marble named tag. These guys had an amazing big ego!

From this place filled with history we went to Trevestere. Running close to the Tiber under the trees we have realized that hundreds and hundreds of birds were making the squeaky noise that we heard. With the wind and the noise a spooky atmosphere, suitable for all hallows eve. With the birds and the high-pitched tunes there was a third component, bird excrements. Two got shot while we were waling, and more intelligent people were using umbrellas. A small and pretty bar in Trevestere served me beer and appetizers. With a filled stomach and six Euros lighter I went home, together with the others. Matthias and I tried to enter our room that we shared with Lukas. When we reached there was light in our room and the door was locked. First we blamed Lukas, that he might got home early and went to the girls room, because our key was gone. We were climbing the stairs up and down and trying to find him. In the end we gave up and sit down outside. After a while we reached him via phone, but he did not had any key, because he was still on his way back to the dormitory. We tried to ask the funny old nun, who was behind the reception, without being able to use Italian language. In the end Matthias forgot to give back the key and it was still in his pocket. Stupid but simple and happily we entered our room.

Rome Diary Part 1

30.10.2010

Icarus and Deadalus

Rome, the eternal city...?

Eat the meat

Icarus and Deadalus

I guess everybody knows about Icarus and Deadalus, the genius artist father and his stupid son. It is something I always get reminded when I am going to fly. Just a couple of hours ago it just happened again. With a group of people we went to Rome with plane. The experience of flying is something strange for me, every time. When I was little I never flew and so my first and only experience with airports and flying-machines was in the age of nine, when one of my fathers cousins took me with him on a short flight in one of these engineless gliders. It was amazing and for many years I did not feel something similar. Back then, at least that is what I think, my sense for flights established. It is less a sense than a picture, of how it should be when you fly. Based on the experience of the glider and its big window-based cabin, a flight should be open and play with some sort of reality that you can see and feel. Nowadays, when I fly I am always trying to sit next to the window, hoping to get back that feeling from a decade ago. But it never happens. Instead of this overwhelming feeling of a free and real view at the world, it becomes more and more like an elevator. The flight becomes something natural, normal and absurd at the same time. It has just the same steps like when I am entering my house and try to reach my home. Step one, entering the house equals entering the airport. Checking my mail equals checking in. Getting through the second door to enter the hallway is just like passing the security check and passport control. Then waiting for the elevator seems to be the time that you waste till you can finally board. The elevator ride is then the flight, before you play the game reverse till I enter my room. And if you are sitting in the last row of the air-transportation vehicle it is exactly like this. You enter, you fly, you cannot see anything, you leave and you have reached. Entering this absurd box and leaving it in a different place than you hopped on seems so normal. I miss the feeling of freedom that you can find in the small planes.

Rome, the eternal city…?

We reached the airport of Rome around half past four. A confusing building from the 1970s with a terrible way of putting signs hanging. A plastic spaceship looking tube has leaded us to the train station; a place with the same kind of attitude as the airport; futuristic but in an old fashioned way. First impression there: the smell of pee. How can a place, as small as that, smell like pee so heavily?

With half an hour train ride in front of us we have talked about cities we have been to. Istanbul was - besides of Rome- one of the main subjects. Comparing the two is not that difficult, sure they have different culture etc., but in the outer regions of the city, both are concrete, steel, bad craftsmanship and ruins. Ruins, not only antique ones are some sort of corporate identity of these two cities.

Termini Roma, is reached quite fast and just after 3 and half hours of traveling together half of the groups people are lost and found in a different place. Not far apart, but still funny that it happened that fast. With an amazingly crowded bus (64) we have entered the inner city. Buildings as impressive as nothing I have seen before, but in the same moment, they all look like that. The facades are dark and shady as if every century has left its traces.

Finally we got our rooms in the pilgrim dormitory. A simple square room, with a balcony that opens to the courtyard of the six floored building. We, two boys and me, are staying in the first floor. Under the balcony there is the kitchen and trash section. At least it does not smell. Everything is simple, functional and clean.

Eat the meat

Around seven, or maybe more about half past, we went out for an aperitivo. It is like an all you can eat plus one drink menu in bars. With a group of 18 people it is not that easy to run around and find a place to sit. But we managed it some how, and I ate some amazing ham, salami, cheese and tomato sandwiches.

After all the food we went to an Erasmus student party and drank a beer, before we returned to the dormitory.

I want winter back!

bloody hot, bloody disgusting!

Hunting Trees (german)

dedicated to Matjes

Der Held dieser Geschichte ist weder eine bekannte Persönlichkeit, noch jemand an den man sich lange erinnern würde. Doch ab und an sind auch die etwas unscheinbareren Menschen in der Lage wundersame Dinge zu vollbringen, die einen inspirieren oder gar berühren ohne das man es sofort merkt. So war es auch mit ihm.

Er war von durchschnittlicher Größe, mit dunklem Haar und pass-genau sitzender Montur. Sein Gang, immer etwas müde, wie auch seine Stimmlage. Das Gesicht gutmütig, wie auch der persitenteste Teil seines Charakters. Schlichtweg war er nicht in der Lage sich vorzudrängen oder schnell zu entscheiden. Das alles machte ihn jedoch zu einer sehr umgänglichen Person.

Als ich an diesem einen Tag auf ihn traf flackerte die männlichste Männlichkeit in uns auf. Eine Form von Männlichkeit, die sonst keiner von uns zeigte. Sie fand ihren Ausdruck darin das wir etwas in Brand setzten wollten. Keiner von uns vier war in der Lage diese Aufgabe ordentlich zu bewältigen und somit nahm es ganze ein einhalb Stunden unserer Zeit in Anspruch um unseren Wunsch näher zu kommen.

Die Befriedigung war groß, doch als der Sonnenuntergang näher rückte flammte die Idee nach etwas besserem auf. Ein immenses Feuer musste her, egal zu welchem Preis!

Der erste Schritt war das legen eines Steinkreises. Wie in altertümlichen Zeiten, der Tradition eines heidnischen Stamms folgend, suchten wir große Steine auf der zerklüfteten Uferbrandung des Flusses. Die Sonne stand noch flach über der Erde, die dunklen Wolken waren von einem Spalt durchbrochen und die Strahlen aus Licht warfen lange Schatten wenn sie auf die Steine am Boden trafen.

Nun wartete eine weiter Aufgabe auf uns, das erlegen von Feuerholz! Ich bin mir nicht sicher ob ihr diese Problematik kennt. Aber es gibt einen unterschied zwischen dem einfachen sammeln von Feuerholz und dem Erlegen. Ersteres erfordert nur einen kleinen Aufwand an Energie und ist recht unspektakulär. Für zweiteres bedarf es jedoch mutige Gemüter die sich dazu in der Lage sehen ihre Grenzen in Augenschein zu nehmen und jegliche Form von Kraft, Geschwindigkeit und Durchhaltevermögen aufzuzeigen.

An dieser Stelle setzt die Bewunderung meinerseits für den Helden dieser Geschichte ein. Er der selten in den Vordergrund drängt vollbrachte, was keiner ihm zutraute. Und die Geschichte war diese...