Remember that Time We Walked to Liechtenstein?

As many of you know, I live in a remote corner of Austria that touches Germany, Switzerland, and Liechtenstein.  As a matter of fact, after one of the World Wars-I can't remember which one--the area of Vorarlberg, Austria wanted to become a part of Switzerland.  The dialect here is basically Swiss German, so I have to admit that I understand their desire to join the Swiss.  But the Swiss are elitists and told Vorarlbergers that they had to remain Austrians and therefore I live in Austria, and not in Switzerland.  (But we still get all of the delicious Swiss chocolate here so I'm somehow managing to survive.)

Anyway, a few short days ago, Sally, Lauren, and myself decided that we wanted to take a bus to Liechtenstein before we went out to Ladies Night at the K-Shake (a local club in the middle of nowhere...seriously...we always find it by looking for the turnaround that has the tractor in the middle of it.)  Getting to Liechtenstein by bus takes about 5 minutes.  And it takes about 20 minutes if we walk.  Sally did not have her passport on her, so we decided to get off the bus just before we crossed the border in case the authorities decided to check everyone's papers.  All we really wanted to do was take some pictures at the border to say that we had been there.

It turns out they don't really check papers at all at the border between Feldkirch and Liechtenstein.  So we just walked over the border.  Illegally.  Without papers.  And took photos.  And within about 40 minutes we made it in and out of the country and home in time to eat dinner and get ready for some dancing at Ladies Night!

Working with the PoPo.

Recently--out of the blue--I received an email from an English teacher at a neighboring school.  He was in desperate need of help and searching for a native English speaker to help him with his second job at the local police college.  All of these popos-in-training are required to learn traffic basics in English, like how to pull over the car of a tourist and tell them that they are not allowed to use their cell phone while driving.

The English teacher was having trouble with these future police officers goofing off when practicing routine traffic checks in English.  Apparently they were all making jokes to one another in the dialect and trying to give each other a hard time when they were taking their turns being the "police."  Or just being super big douche bags to one another, which is relatively unlikely to happen. They weren't really getting any good practice in, and heaven forbid that they pulled over a tourist--they would have been so lost and only known how to insult each other.  So the teacher wanted me to come in and pretend that I don't speak any German and be the traffic guinea pig.  I knew that the class would be mostly male (and mostly my age) so I gladly volunteered.

When I walked in the room, I was pleased to discover about 35 students all dressed in their cop uniform.  Mostly male.  Mostly age appropriate.  The English teacher then left me alone with them to ask them questions and to tell them a little bit about myself.  They turned out to be quite a lively bunch--they asked me if I had ever been arrested.  Or if I was married.  Or single.  Or looking for an Austrian boyfriend.  Jackpot.

After that, I proceeded to drive the English teachers car (which is a manual--I don't know how to drive a manual) around the parking lot of the police college so that the officers could pull me over and ask to see my papers and what not.  It was a total blast.  They all got so nervous to have to actually pull me over in the car and ask me questions.  And I would purposely try and make it slightly difficult for them by asking them directions or being unable to pay the ticket because I don't have any money on me.  Overall a really fun and interesting time.  They asked me to go out to the bar with them sometime soon, so we'll see how that goes!  Until then, I'll keep practicing getting pulled over by the Austrian police--by the end of December I'll have had enough practice sweet-talking my way out of tickets and know enough of the police force to get myself out of any kind of snaffoo.

Ciao!

Martinimarkt and Pay Day!

So the past week/weekend has been incredibly eventful.  Not only did I receive my first paycheck, I also got a good taste of authentic Austrian culture.

November the 11th was St. Martin's Day--a religious holiday which technically starts Advent and somewhat resembles American Thanksgiving.  St. Martin apparently is this dude who gave his half of his cloak to a beggar and then had a vision of Jesus Christ somewhere around 400 A.D.  And now his day of sainthood is celebrated widely across Western and Eastern Europe.  Starting at 11:11 on the 11th, the tiny little town I live in was filled with marching bands and people dressed in ridiculous costumes.  This is a big holiday here.  The Austrians don't mess around with St. Martin's day--they get dressed up and have a right ol' party.

See?  I'm not kidding.
Two days later there was a big festival in Dornbirn, which is the largest town in Vorarlberg and the home of the Dornbirner Martinimarkt.  Now, before you all go thinking that I was sipping on Martinis all day, I ask you to refer to my earlier comments.  The Martinimarkt is actually a big market/bazaar held in order to celebrate St. Martin's Day.  At the Martinimarkt, local vendors have all sorts of goods you can buy, like sheepswool slippers--which may have been made from my sheepies that live outside my window--and regional foods.  And pretty much everyone in our corner of Austria stops by.

I don't think I've ever seen so much cheese and smoked sausage in once place ever.  You could smell the cheese everywhere and everytime I turned around I saw another sausage vendor.  Which means all of the assistants who were in town for the festival were getting some good eats.  For example:

Landjaeger--it translates to country hunter, which I think is kind of funny.  But when you tell your Austrian friends that you have a sausage in your bag, they think you mean an uncooked sausage and you're crazy.  Until you show them the Landjaeger (smoked sausage) you have wrapped up inside your tote.  Then they just think you're funny and American.  But it is delicious and meaty.   Mmmmm.

Then you have Raclett Brot.  Raclett Brot is basically a big piece of bread which a hot, melted, swiss-like cheese spread on it and topped with onions and peppers.  It looks kind of gross.  And smells kind of gross.  But it tastes delicious.

And then finally we have Gluehmost, which is like a hot spiced hard cider.  It's unbelievably tasty and shockingly alcoholic.  And it's warm.  Which on a cold rainy day--like the day of Martinimarkt--it really just warms you up and hits the spot.

We spent most of the evening at the Martinmarkt and I was fortunate enough to run into some of my students, who ended up (more or less) joining us and taking part in the festivities.  They made sure that we were fully experience the culture and drinking plenty of Gluehmost and eating plenty of food.  All in all, it was a wonderful evening.

After my adventure at the Martinimarkt I only had two more days until I received my first paycheck!  Due to the Austrian paperwork and the time it takes to process it, none of the assistants received any moolah until November 15th.  Living without any money is awful.  I scavenged food and was living on a diet of rice and lentils.  And pretty much holed myself up in my room doing a whole lot of nothing.  Getting paid this past Monday was pretty much the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me in my life short of being born.  I got paid for October and November at the same time, which is more money than I've ever been given at one time ever in my life.  Which means I spend Monday and Tuesday with the other female assistants buying clothes and shoes and food and books and just enjoying not being broke.  As a matter of fact, we're all so excited to finally have money and be able to do things, we're heading to Munich tomorrow to shop, sightsee, eat, drink, and do all sorts of things you can do with an income! 

So, bis spaeter!  I should be back soon when I return from the city of beer and pretzels!

Mack