Slovakia Recomposed

The other day I came across this video.  Set to "Spring 0" and "Spring 1" from Recomposed by Max Richter: Vivaldi - The Four Seasons, it features footage of Málinec (southwest of Tisovec).  I think it's beautiful and captures the country wonderfully.

I'll always love you, New York

An entertainment event earlier this year* had me thinking about New York.  I assumed, because of my longstanding love for the city, that I had plenty of posts about it on this blog; you may imagine my surprise when I found that the posts tagged New York number only six—and that includes places in the state, not just the metropolis.  (I think this particular entry conveys my feelings fairly accurately, though.)  All the same, I reckon I ought to rectify this general oversight and produce some more content about the greatest city in the world.  Thus, please enjoy various and sundry comments about Nueva York.

While there are lots of songs about New York, from the previous to “NYC” from Annie to Ryan Adams’ “New York, New York” (whence this post’s title), the following is probably the song I most associate with the city.  If you’re familiar with Working Girl, you’ll probably understand why; if not, a quick viewing of the opening credits should provide illumination.  The lyrics never name any particular place, but the connection between song and location has clearly stuck with me over the years.

On the other hand, the October before last I rolled into the city on an Amtrak train, eating an apple and listening to Glenn Miller tunes, including “Pennsylvania 6-5000” (and “Chattanooga Choo-Choo,” which, while not a New York song, is a railway song).  Unlike Metro-North trains, which stop in the Bronx and descend after 125^th Street to run south underground until Grand Central, the Acela from Boston and New Haven leaves the mainland to pass through Queens, below, before arriving at Penn Station.  I've flown into JFK, LaGuardia, and Islip, and arrived on buses, and even been a passenger in cars (though you could not pay me enough to drive my own self into the city), but mostly I get on the New Haven Line and in less than an hour I'm there.  And once I'm there, if I can't walk, I'd rather take the subway than the bus—I think that's because I feel less likely to end up going the wrong direction on the subway.  In all, despite the fancy, high-speed trains I've been on, rail travel still strikes me as somewhat old-fashioned, and that fits a timeless city.

In the process of working on this post I discovered that I don’t have as many pictures as I thought I must; I believe many of them are on discs that are still in California, and it rankles me not to have them all.  The best way to rectify this would probably be for me to win the lottery, make a first stop at B&H, and then spend some serious time visiting and revisiting sites around town.

Boogie Down

Of all the boroughs I’ve spent the most time in the Bronx.  Sure, most people think of Manhattan as New York City, but that’s unfair to the other boroughs, which have so much to offer.  I can’t say I’ve ever been to Queens, apart from passing through JFK, nor Staten Island, that I remember—though there are pictures of my family on the Staten Island Ferry sometime in the late ’80s, so I’ve at least been to the ferry terminal there.  Up in the Bronx are the Zoo and the New York Botanical Garden, which are definitely worth visiting.  I’d also recommend Woodlawn Cemetery, whose over 400 acres are home to influential people from Rowland H. Macy and James Cash Penney to Celia Cruz and Edward Kennedy “Duke” Ellington.

Most likely the eeriest thing I ever experienced in New York was in March 2006.  Spring break was just about to start and I took the day off of work to cross the country for a friend’s wedding.  My flight left Islip mid-morning, but I had to take a bus and a subway train and the Long Island Rail Road and a taxi to reach the airport, and in order to get there in enough time—my parents will tell you that I prefer a generous cushion before takeoff—I had to leave my apartment around three in the morning.  I walked to the closest bus stop and waited in silence so nearly complete that I was startled by the appearance of someone just walking four lanes opposite me.  The quiet was strange, disconcerting in its unfamiliarity.  When the bus came, there was only one other passenger on it.  Of course, by the time I reached Midtown and had to walk a few blocks to Penn Station, more people were out and getting ready for the day, but still far fewer than the daytime city streets.

This picture was taken from one of my roommates' rooms.  I got first dibs on rooms, so I picked one of the ones that looked out over Southern Boulevard and the zoo, and I swear sometimes I could hear the lions roaring at night.  But this view of the Bronx is not at all shabby.

And then this one time I was on my way to campus while wearing the Rangers t-shirt I’d gotten at the Goodwill in Manhattan.  A police car was nearby, and as I jaywalked I heard the PA crackle on; for a moment I was sure that I was going to be admonished for crossing Fordham Road illegally.  So you can imagine my relief when what I heard instead was one of the officers complimenting my “great” shirt.

While you’re in the 718, stop by Ivana’s on Arthur Avenue, the Bronx’s Little Italy, and have a pepper and egg wedge for me.  No one else makes them quite as good.

BKLYN

The Bronx may be known as the roughest borough, but Brooklyn’s got the reputation as the coolest.  I, however, can suck the cool out of anything, even Spot Conlon’s territory.  And so the last time I went to New York I made a point of visiting two sites in Kings County: Central Library and Green-Wood Cemetery.  The former is a formidable building with a curved façade opposite Grand Army Plaza.  The grate at the entrance features figures from literature; this chart identifies all of them, though I was fairly certain that the man second from the bottom in the center column was Walt Whitman.  The interior isn’t as impressive as the exterior, given more to function than form and seemingly last redecorated in the 1970s, but above the entrance inside is a carved eagle that once adorned the offices of the aquiline-named daily newspaper.  

I found visiting Green-Wood Cemetery a far more satisfying experience.  Journalist Horace “Go West Young Man” Greeley, Governor DeWitt Clinton, Leonard Bernstein, Samuel Morse, and Louis Comfort Tiffany are buried there, the last under a disappointingly unadorned stone; Green-Wood in June is full of blooming dogwoods and groundhogs.  The cemetery is also home to the borough’s highest point.  From there, near a spot where a Revolutionary War battle was fought, you can see Manhattan’s skyscrapers, and, by shifting a bit to the your left, the Statue of Liberty.  At the Altar of Liberty a statue of Minerva raises her arm in salute to the lady in the harbor.  If you’re there around noon on an early summer day, you might catch the scent of the freshest pizza you've ever smelled in the air.  So please bury me there, because I can’t imagine a better place to be planted than that, with that view and that history and that pie, forever.

Or maybe just cremate me and toss me into the East River* from the walkway of my favorite bridge.  The next best thing to a Gothic arch is a neo-Gothic arch, and there’s nothing more strong and graceful than the stone and wire of the Roeblings’ bridge.  For a New World city, it’s easy enough to find the medieval in New York: there are relocated buildings up at the Cloisters, arms and armor at the Met, and a Gutenberg Bible at the Public Library; St. Patrick’s is even more exuberantly neo-Gothic than the bridge.  But even if the bridge isn't real Gothic, it’s real New York.  I’ve crossed it on a bright late-September day, and on an overcast April with one of my oldest friends, and after watching Nathan’s hot dog-eating contest on Independence Day, and every time was a dream come true.

Who was to know what should come home to me?
Who knows but I am enjoying this?
Who knows but I am as good as looking at you now, for all you cannot see me?
     from “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” by Walt Whitman

I know I have nothing groundbreaking to say about New York—why do you think I’m linking to songs and quoting Whitman?  The things I want to say have mostly already been said, and more eloquently.  The place is expensive, dirty, and aromatic; it’s uncomfortable in both winter and summer.  But every time a train or bus or plane takes me back I end up in Grand Central, head thrown back to see the ceiling, and I hear Carly Simon sing the sky is a color of blue you’ve never even seen in the eyes of your lover and I wouldn’t trade a minute there for anything.

*It was the movie of the Broadway version of "Newsies," obviously, but I like to pretend to have some dignity. ↩
*Leaving aside a portion to be tossed into the Rimava into Tisovec, too. ↩

Slovenská hudba

We all know that my favorite Slovak song is "Tota Heľpa," and that, at least in my opinion, there's little better than a crowd of all ages playing instruments and singing folk music.  But to think that Slovak music is all fujaras and people in kroj is just foolish.  As evidence, I offer a few of my favorite non-folk songs from Slovakia.  I will admit that the following selections do not represent a comprehensive overview of recent popular music; they are a totally subjective and not terribly well-informed collection.  Počúvajte and enjoy!

HONORABLE MENTIONS: Not in Slovak

"Crushin' My Fairytale" by Celeste Buckingham

Celeste is like part American and part Swiss and lives in Slovakia and is fluent in the language.  She co-starred in my favorite Slovak movie, Láska na vlásku, and recorded a song for the end credits.  She also sings in English, as in this song.  You might recognize Bojnice Castle as the filming location for the video.

"Princess of the Light" by Lavagance

The video for Lavagance's song "Gabriel" seems to be set in a Baumax (a home improvement store) and downtown Bratislava.  That song seems tailor-made for the final scene in an hour-long drama on an American network, and I'm surprised it hasn't been so used yet.  As far as I know, they only sing in English, but I have made no investigation to prove the contrary.  There are two videos for "Princess of the Light"; the one I prefer features SĽUK, the Slovak national dance troupe.

"Stužková" by Elán

Okay, the song is from 1985, and the band and lyrics are Czech, and you only really hear this during stužková season in November.  But it's so iconic that I can't in good conscience omit it, and the video--made, remember, before the fall of Communism in Czechoslovakia--is amazing.

TRETIE MIESTO: "Môj život je muzika" by Kollárovci

It's either this one or "Neodchádzaj" (which I hope they play at every wedding and ples and stužková from now until the end of time).  This song is folky, but not actually traditional.  All of the music on this album, also titled Môj život je muzika (My Life is Music), is catchy; Dad's favorite is "Mariša," and I have to be careful about listening to or even thinking about "Sokoly" because it gets stuck in my head quite easily.

DRUHÉ MIESTO: "Horehronie" by Kristína

Slovakia's entry in the Eurovision Song Contest back in 2010.  I feel like the recent trend has been for Eurovision songs to be all in English, but I wish more were in their countries' native languages.  "Horehronie" is all about how beautiful the region is, a sentiment with which I agree wholeheartedly.  The song didn't win, but that's Eurovision politics for you.

I also like Kristína's  recent songs "Si pre mňa best," and "Na bieleho koňa" from Johankino tajomstvo, which I still have not seen, dang it.

PRVÉ MIESTO: "Ľahká" by Korben Dallas

 

The album is called Banská Bystrica and its cover features the SNP Museum in the city, so I don't know how much more Slovak you can get than that.  I love Juraj Benetin's voice on this track; its weight and depth is a counterpoint to the addressee, who is lightweight (ľahká), like a nut on the water (ako orech na vode).  For me that line fits the song much better if I don't think about its literal translation, but just picture what it means; and when I do so, the water I imagine is the stream in the hills, north of the spring and near the Jewish cemetery, peaceful and secluded and close to home.

I think you'll find, pal...

In the space of a week my dealings with public transportation left me with a handful of dollar coins (two Susan B. Anthonys, two Sacajaweas, and seven assorted presidents, to be exact): I often forget that the Metro North ticket machines give dollar coins in change, and the parking-payment machine at the Alewife T station did, too.  I don't mind the coins too much, but I'm often a bit hesitant to use them in situations where money needs to change hands quickly; even the gold-colored ones are often mistaken for quarters, as one was today at the movie theater, and I don't relish the idea of having to explain to some harried cashier that yes, it is real money and yes, I have given you what I owe.  In those times a line from one of English comedian Michael McIntyre's routines always runs through my head. Have a look and see for yourself.

Castle Run

A few weeks ago one of my former students shared a video on Facebook of a bunch of guys freerunning and parkouring around Spiš Castle.  This was done with the castle's permission, because it was a professional video with sponsors and everything.  The group, Born To Trick, has made a series of these videos called "Castle Run"; there are eight of them, each filmed in a different Slovak castle.  This morning the poor soul who has the dubious distinction of being my best Slovak friend sent me a link to this video, done at Orava Castle.  I can't imagine leaping about in that castle, where I felt so dizzy even when I looked at the pictures of it when I got home.  Though I've not seen all of the videos yet, this one might end up being my favorite; besides the parkour it also features folk dancers, and that's what Slovakia is.  It's people who are proud of their country, its culture and its natural beauty, and that celebrate that while embracing modern life.

 

Autumn in Western Mass

This blog is owed much update and explanation.  I keep thinking I'll get a chance to sit down and write something for it, but it always gets away from me.  Here, at least, is some new content.

It's October, and in western Massachusetts that means it rains.  Last Friday it rained on and off for most of the day, and from the comfort of my room I got a little of it on video to share.  Since that time a lot of the leaves on the tree outside my window have blown down to the ground.  I'm not looking forward to the time when they're all gone--I don't feel prepared to see a naked tree outside my window for the next few months.  I suppose I'd better get ready.

 

Video of the Day

Man, parts of this video look unreal.  One day I hope to be able to photograph stars half so cool as this.  Props to Shawn Reeder for capturing this amazing beauty.

Watch This Video, Part II

Look at how beautiful Slovakia is!  Well done, whoever made this ad.

In Living Color

For about a year, Blogger hasn't let me post videos directly to my blog. I investigated moving to a different service, but the one I was interested in charged for video uploading, and that was not going to happen, so I stayed put and just didn't post videos. But after the accordion madness, something had to be done. I needed you to be able to see the accordion videos! To that end, I broke down and signed up with YouTube.

If I've marked everything correctly, you won't be able to comment on the videos on YouTube, nor will they come up in a search. People are rude and ignorant when commenting on that site, and I don't want to have to deal with that; the videos are only going on there since Google Video is kaput. So I know the videos are poor quality, often shaky, blah blah blah. Most of them were taken on a digital camera (although a few were done with my mom's camcorder), and I have problems holding still. It's not necessary for you to tell me these things.

Now I'm going to post some of the videos that I would have done in the past had I had the ability. First up is the bus tour of Kraków from last July, at a dizzying quadruple speed.

Next, what Tisovec looks like from the fourth floor of the hotel.

Here are the bells from York Minster.

And finally some head-butting sheeps.

WATCH THIS VIDEO

This amazing video was projected on the Astronomical Clock tower in Prague for its 600th anniversary. I don't know how they did it, but it's pretty fantastic.

The 600 Years from the macula on Vimeo.

So Close and Yet So Far

Last weekend was a three-day weekend at the end of our first semester. I've wanted to go to Kraków for a while, and it seemed like a good time to go. On Friday after school I and two of my friends left Tisovec for our first stop, which was Cieszyn, Poland. There are two American teachers at the school there, and they kindly allowed us to stay with them overnight. We left Tisovec around noon and our train got to Český Těšín in the Czech Republic shortly after 7. From there we walked into Poland. As we crossed the border, which is more or less the middle of the Olza River, we did the classic standing-in-two-countries-at-once thing. Our friends greeted us in Cieszyn with fajitas and real American brownies and a drink made with vodka and apple juice.

Here follows a brief digression about vodka. If you're going to be in Central Europe, especially in someplace like Poland that is renowned for its vodka, you should probably sample it--in moderation, of course, because nobody likes a drunk tourist. In fact, most of us really dislike drunk tourists, so don't be an idiot. Anyway, the apple juice and vodka concoction is properly made with a kind of vodka called Żubrówka, which I tend to call "buffalo vodka," because the English name is really bison grass vodka. Żubrówka is made using grass that bison (żubr) like to eat. I for one did not even know that there were bison running around Poland these days. True żubrówka is not available in the US, although the internet says you can get a version of it there.

On Saturday morning we left Cieszyn for Kraków, although we ended up leaving one of our number behind. M didn't feel well as we were getting ready, and decided not to try to sit on a bus for three hours. I felt bad leaving her with a mysterious malady, but there was really nothing we could do, so H and I went on. (M went home on Sunday afternoon, and feels better now.) Unfortunately, that meant going without the one of us who had actually been to Poland before, but we managed okay.

One of the challenges or obstacles in my mind was the difference between Slovak and Polish. Even though I don't know much Slovak, I am well able to say "I don't understand" and "I don't speak Slovak," and I feel secure in a way when I don't understand Slovak. But other languages are a different story. When I don't understand in another language, I can't always say that I don't understand, which is difficult. You'd think Polish would be closer to Slovak than it is, because it's in the same family, but you would, of course, be wrong. For example, tak means "so" in Slovak but "yes" in Polish. There are some things that are close, but just different enough to mess you up. Polish also uses some special characters that Slovak doesn't have. The Slovak ž is Polish ż, and there are some vowels with the little hooky thing,* which, according to Character Map, is an ogonek. I wasn't able to master the proper Polish pronunciation of "thank you," dziękuję. It's funny what a difference knowing one little phrase like "thank you" makes.

We got to Kraków around 12:30 and went to our hostel. It was pretty close to the train and bus stations. We actually stayed in a three-bed private room around the corner from the main hostel. It was much quieter than the main place was, and we enjoyed not having to share a room and being able to lock our stuff in safely. (Second sidebar: When we checked in, the helpful young man at the hostel gave us a map and told us some places to go. The map was one of the City Spy maps, which are aimed at young'uns and therefore have an irreverent view of their cities. In this particular map, my favorite piece of advice was, "If you happen to meet A LOT of ladies dressed up, [sic] as penguins then be nice. They are nuns, devoted to God & in no mood to put up with your shit!!" I'm thinking of adopting "Devoted to God and in no mood to put up with your shit" as my personal motto.)

After we'd dropped our things off, we went looking for sights. Just opposite the hostel was a park with the only remaining part of the city walls. The barbican, or barbakan in Polish, and St. Florian's Gate are all that's left of the walls. The Florian Gate, pictured at right, leads into the Old Town area of the city. Florianska, the street that begins at the gate, goes straight to the main square. The Cloth Hall, the basilica, and the town hall tower are all in the main square. Of course the Cloth Hall is being renovated and was covered in scaffolding. Inside there are souvenir and craft stalls, and apparently on the second floor there's something else, but we were there late enough in the afternoon that that was all closed. You can ascend the town hall tower to overlook the city, and I believe there's an exhibit inside there as well. I was most interested in St. Mary's Basilica, and gladly paid even the fee for photography inside. I think the most striking thing about the interior was the ceiling, which is a vibrant blue and decorated with stars. Part of me immediately thought of Grand Central when I looked at the ceiling.

When I was younger we had a book called The Trumpeter of Krakow by Eric P. Kelly. It was probably the first time I'd ever heard of Kraków. The book is based on the legend that a city watch trumpeter was sounding the alarm that the city was about to be attacked by Tatars when he was shot in the throat, abruptly ending the tune. Every hour a trumpeter plays the hejnał from the taller tower of the basilica, once to each direction. Each time the hejnał ends with the "broken note." I wasn't able to get a video during the day, because I just missed it a few times, but the following two videos are of the hejnał on Saturday and Sunday nights, respectively. (I know the first one has a bit of nothing at the beginning, but when I tried to trim the video, the quality got even worse, if you can believe that worse quality is possible.) The two videos show that they are indeed real people playing and not just a recording.




When we left the basilica we continued toward the Wisła River, wandering into some of the many churches we passed. There are lots and lots of churches of all different sizes and styles in Kraków. The vast majority of them seem to be Catholic churches--we only passed one that I noticed was Protestant. For some reason, all of the churches still had their Christmas decorations up. There was also a large Christmas tree in a square near the Franciscan church. (We didn't get a chance to go in that church, which is too bad, because it has some stained glass windows designed by Stanisław Wyspiański that are supposed to be really cool.) This was a bit confusing, as we were there at the very end of January. Like I said, it just wasn't just one church that was a little behind, either; it was all of them. Are there any Polish people out there who can shed some light on this situation for me?

Let me tell you how much the Poles in Kraków love Jan Paweł II. The last pope lived in the city for about 16 years. There's a statue of him outside the cathedral (above), a bronze relief on the side of the basilica, they mentioned him during Mass, and there are multiple vending machines where you can buy a John Paul II medal. The first one I noticed was in the ticket office for the basilica; I saw it and thought immediately of the machines that press pennies back home. This was so much more, though. They were proper vending machines, where you insert 7 złoty and receive a hefty gold-colored coin with the pope's profile on one side and the papal seal on the other. I always really liked John Paul, and I still call him "the pope." I feel bad for Benedict, because that must be a tough act to follow. Anyhow, I admired John Paul, because he refused to be part of the oppression and genocide of Jews before and during World War II, and he also stood up to the Communist Party. The motto of the John Paul II Centre is Nie lękajcie się!--Do not be afraid! That motto also appears on the medals. I had a brief moment of doubt as to whether buying a medal with the pope on it was idolatrous at all, but I decided it couldn't be too bad, and bought one anyway.

On Sunday, as I mentioned earlier, we went to Mass at the cathedral. The cathedral is amusing from the outside because, as you can see in the picture, there are a variety of different styles existing together. And they're all kind of squished in together, too (that's the technical architectural term, "squished in"). When we arrived for Mass, a pair of young men wearing very official capes were waiting at the door. Their job was clearly to make sure that no tourists were sneaking in free under the guise of attending the service. They heard us talking, and as we went in one of them asked if we were there for worship, to which we both replied in the affirmative. He was incredulous, but let us in. It was not entirely dissimilar to church here in Tisovec: both places were cold, and I only understood some of what was going on. The cathedral had a bishop and a good organist and a male choir, though, the latter two of which we really enjoyed.

After Mass we walked around Wawel a bit, but didn't really check out any of the exhibits. The river was frozen but for a few patches, and we saw a crowd gathered at the side, so we wandered that way to see what was going on. A group of truly brave people were doing a walrus plunge kind of thing. Now yes, I did a penguin plunge in March 2006, but the air temperature was significantly warmer, and while there was snow on the ground, there was no actual ice in the water. I am nowhere near hardcore enough to jump into the Wisła in January.

We made our way to Kazimierz, the Jewish quarter, where we had lunch. Observe my true Polish pierogi. It's possible that my father might have disowned me had I not eaten pierogi while I was there.
Once we'd finished our lunch, we didn't really want to leave the cafe, because it was wicked cold outside. But leave we did, and continued on to the Remuh Synagogue. It's a small synagogue in the process of being renovated, but by entering it you also get into the cemetery. The inside of the wall around the cemetery is made up of tombstones that were destroyed during the war. We also visited the Tempel (Progressive) Synagogue, which is much larger and in a Moorish style. It was similar to the Spanish Synagogue in Prague, in that the style was completely incongruous with the area's natural decorative style. What's the word for an anachronism, but in space, rather than time? Because that's what those synagogues are.
Kraków is also blessed with a really nice mall. I was so close to buying a mortar and pestle there, among other things. Something that I've experienced fairly often in Europe is the feeling of being overwhelmed at malls. In Portugal I couldn't stand being in the malls for very long, and even Aupark in Bratislava can be too much for me. I was fully expecting to be overwhelmed by the Kraków Galeria, but was pleasantly surprised not to be. Say what you will about consumerism and capitalism, malls are really handy. And they had good ice cream.

Our last experience was to visit a bar mleczny. In English these places are called "milk bars." They're basically cafeterias left over from the Communist era where you order from a super-cheap menu. The guidebooks all say that you ought to visit a milk bar because real Polish people eat there, not just tourists. While we were eating dinner, an old guy came in and got four glasses of hot water, to which he added his own teabags. I got potato pancakes and gulas, and H got a pork steak with potatoes and beets. Each meal was about $5. It was by no means haute cuisine, but I enjoyed it. It was hot and filling and cheap and great.

The only thing we had to do on Monday was make it on the train at 7:35. We made that one and all our subsequent connections without a hitch and got back home by 5. I keep thinking that Kraków wasn't what I expected it to be like, but then again, I couldn't really say what I did expect it to be like.

*I may have described bacteria as "tiny little germ guys" to 3A1 this week. They were rather amused, and in fact quoted me back to myself shortly thereafter. In my defense, it's not as if I was explaining a completely new concept.

Lisbon Organ

I took this video for my dad at the cathedral in Lisbon.

Christmas Time is Here

This year I have two Christmas songs to share. First off, some of my second-year students love to sing, so I asked them to sing some Christmas songs to make a video greeting for one of their former teachers. They sang "Jingle Bells" in English and then in Czech; here's the latter, since I'm assuming that most of you know how it sounds in the former. And they're all staring off in one direction because they're reading the words from the chalkboard.

Then a few weeks ago we sang songs at Bible study, and the kids then taught us "Silent Night" in Slovak. We only got one verse, but it's more than I knew before.

Tichá noc, sväta noc,
Všetko spí, všetko sní,
Sám len svätý bdie dôverný Pán,
Stráži dietátko nebeský dar
Sladký Ježiško spí, sní
Nebesky tíško spí, sní

I must also add that like all of my students love any iteration of "Last Christmas." Any class I played that for started singing.

Sometime quite soon I will be heading off for my Christmas adventure of epic proportions. I'm not entirely prepared right this second, but I am quite excited. Of course you should all be looking forward to the next update, which will appear here early in 2010. From all of us in Tisovec, veselé vianoce a šťastný novy rok!

Mjoksiglandi Presents

This is an admittedly completely dorky video I made with pictures of Tisovec. It is very simple, with no fancy animation or whatnot, just pictures (more or less in chronological order) and music. I enjoy it, and I hope you will too.

Emerald Isle Videos

It seems that video uploading might actually be working today. Here are my two videos from spring break, neither of which are very impressive. The first is of Giant's Causeway.

The next video is from the Auld Dubliner on Temple Bar. I would like to point out that at one time I turned around to pick up my pint and didn't pay attention to what I was filming, and it was not on purpose that I filmed that guy's bum.

Christmas Song

Last night we did a little Christmas caroling with some of the students, most of whom are in the choir. They started to sing a Slovak song that was really cool and that they managed to sing in parts even while walking. I coerced them into standing still and singing it when we got back to school, and took this video. Enjoy.

Videos!

*When I first posted this, these videos were on Google Video. Next month [May 2011] Google Video is shutting down completely, so the videos are now embedded from my YouTube account. I'm leaving the text as is, though.*

Here are links to some vids I put on Google Video. I was unable to embed them as I wanted to; maybe I'll figure that out in the future. I really wanted to get these up ASAP. I'm aware that the quality is somewhat poor, as they were taken on my digital camera, but I hope you enjoy them anyway.

St. Stephen's

Stužková (full description at a later date)--Mike and Majka dancing, the band playing

Folk singing/dancing/bagpipery from Pribelce group at Čierny Balog festival