30 March 2008

Offbeats.


Noh, nii..

Given that the last post received mixed reviews (i.e., a mix of people had no idea what the fuck I was babbling about.. well noted..), I figure it is a good time to freshen things up. That's what I am, anyways. Fresh.

It's wild how cities can shift and change in the course of a few days and a few degrees. Given people and the ability to walk around with your head down against cold and snow, the whole atmosphere transforms into something more fluid. A mere change of weather doesn't launch the urban mood into any sort of 'positive' straight away, though. It's the passing through time with people who make it all. That's what solid cities really are, so I guess it makes sense.

Näiteks; Molly came around for a week (damn NWA workers and their families and their cheap tickets and their unlimited beverages!), and really was responsible for making me as fresh as I am (not to mention how 'fly'). A week of cynicism, sunrises and sunsets threw the city and everything about living here into such a light that allowed me to feel so .. comfortable (mugav). It wasn't just speaking in English the whole time and being able to shrapnel off smartass comments left and right. Alright, that was a huge part. Though.. just traipsing around everywhere together, tasting the Minneapolis flavour mixed into the ins and outs of Tallinn life.. everything gained this sort of focus. Sunday and the last week was thus equally really difficult for various reasons. One being that sudden gap where there had as-suddenly and unexpectedly been a common perspective on everything around. Admittedly this would have been a lot harder if my mate Paul from Glasgow wasn't just around for a few weeks.. We were both in Estonian language courses last summer and share an equal disgust of old babushki cleaning mens' locker rooms (this should be a horror film, really, that's a sight that would make your heart stop beating). However even this is temporal and, though the weather is on the up and up, the presence of a somewhat developed and often-available friend base remains lack. Given the fact that I could legally be kicked out at a moment's notice and do miss the Cities somethin' teerriiiblllll', my motivation to break into the non-defrosted-freezer-built-up-ice of Estonian circles is somewhat low. There are of course many really fantastic foreigners here as well and one or two Estonian friends, with whom things have been coming together more lately, however.. it is still outside of the city flow.

Living here is living in a different current of the city. One can understand more how foreigners have to feel in the States.. where English is choppy but necessary for every interaction, and thus becomes 'work' in itself, life needs to have comfort. Thus foreigner circles develop and may permeate other circles of foreigners. It's intimidating enough breaking into circles of high school friends as a native English speaker, though to come at this from completely outside and when the culture is already so closed.. uphill fight without even being sure that you are on a hill or have a weapon. Then there is the time aspect as well, and disconnect from taking classes and being forced into other peoples' presence. It's trying to flip into the ebb and flow of the city without anything to grip or the senses to feel the rhythm. At least with close friends developed in their own way, outside of this current adventure in life, there is a common base and orientation in taking on the scene.

So, to dip this all into a bit of disclarity; I am considering. Lihtsalt (just..).. considering. I can't say exactly what I am tossing about (in part as according to my passport I am not legally -anywhere- now..), because it is straight on in the middle. Naming go versus stay or vice versa specifically would imply a progressive momentum towards such. When in fact there is a momentum, it is treading back and forth. I underestimated the State Department's need for recruiting people with no motivation or real interest in what they do in life, and resultingly did not receive the summer scholarship for Russia. Waiting on the Fulbright, though I almost feel as if I did get that it would muddle things even more. Things are slowly slipping into some sort of loose stability of unknowing anything, though for how long or if it is even something I want remains like a cloud lost in fog.

Once more (taas) I vow to make this somewhat more upbeat or interesting in short order, mix in some tales of bagged dairy products, useless elderly-garden break-ins (old Finnish guys get their kicks in weird places.. that bastard!), the illustrious Sea Lion tennis racket, techno towers and taevased. Eastern Europe is annoying in the sense that it is hard to exaggerate stories as such. As when you start out a sentence,

"And then when the Russian guy broke the bottle into his hand..."

Not even a mistranslation. It's the inevitably tinged attempts at translation of events into English which makes the region so addictive.

Eh, about time to check and see if the Migration Board is back from vacation and if I can/want to/should let the EU know that I'm in it..

Edasi..

26 March 2008

Windnoooissee..

Nii..

Right. So, I'm trudging through the midst of my first official and proper Estonian snow-hurricane (well done.. think 60 mph+ winds plus spunked up kamikaze bits of snow, dodging massive versions of the snow clearers on Washington Ave. bridge with a taste for blood), and I'm thinking, decent time for a long-needed post.

So.. Scotland.. then.. the entire B-Brilliant (deserves two first capitalized letters) last week, then the melancholy and corrosive start to this one.. then.. what my liver thinks of my kidneys and vice versa (jealousy and deception, could be a good soap). I'll leave the last one out in the interest of preserving any coherency or general sense here.

So.. fuck that is a good amount. Much smoother when this all comes out of moments and not the sorted, stocked and increasingly tactile memories of such. That is apparently how I sort things out, I suppose.. I feel like my grip on developments brushing by is much more complete when I feel my way through it in the course of conversation. Right now (nüüd, сразу сейчас) this emerges in the form of blog posts. The last week, in the form of sharp sarcasm and intoxicant cut-in comments which burst into dialogues and discourses with a sidelong friend. As if tossing about the importance and irrelevance of asjad kui появятся перед собой (eeh.. things which suddenly appear in the course of others) in a more constant time works to shape out the greater picture in a much clearer light. That is what most strive for or attempt to avoid as well.. just.. clarity. Sorting it all out in what is then closer to the present situation, with response and reaction.. support and ridicule.. the social element really shakes out cloudy perception and gives shit that brilliant imbalance towards the 'next'. Eeh..

Thus I have an inner motivation to launch off on uncharted digressions concerning my reaction to 5p card limits, rugby (Scots wiping the dainty French into the ground, to be more exact!), 2 hour tarmac tours, missing passport stamps (aahh, legal discontinuity how you made my last 'official legal' days bright..).. tumbling tales and digressions on deserted thatched paradises, fruitcardi, late-day lounging, fizz, travel trials and closed cities, glances glares and indirect lights.. it is all still brimming. More than enough to describe with inadequate expression. Figure that it will come about here just in the way that most occurs in the first place.. steeped and filtered and ultimately unexpected.

On that..

Edasi..

25 March 2008

Oh. Right.

..and I quote:

"I say a lot of things - millions of words a day - so if I misspoke, that was just a misstatement." - Hillary Clinton

I am officially voting for Obama, given the chance by the powers that be superdelegates.

Much, much more descriptive and far more provocative happenings-been in the very near future.

Edasi..

12 March 2008

Calm, collect and skint.

There is something exceedingly comforting about island life. It is as if at one time, the Celts and other populations here sat down and said "Bollocks. We live on the same bloody island, I suppose we'll have to get along in some sense." Then came the problem, and ingenious solution of how to go about this. Some places set at building churches and having massive wars against others. That has happened here to an extent, but the other solution ultimately trumps and exceeds that flawed approach.

"Let's build a pub."

The sense of community in different regions of the world are intriguing, definitely fit for (or fitting) the people arranged in these to various extents. Pubs don't fight wars. So sure, the people associated with each pub might, but there are no flags carried about. The only flag to be shown bears a title such as "Guinness," and may fly in many places. It is unity for the island, soothing out tensions and troubles from any stand of life. Brilliant.

I just stopped into Curler's pub here, a great place around the uni and filled with mainly a likewise associated crowd (in Minneapolis, think of a cleaner and somewhat more modern Bully's.. yes.. the thought may conquer and exact tribute from your mind..). After all of Eesti's somewhat pitiful attempts at bars and pubs, this was incredibly refreshing. No frills, no fluff, no napkins even; what a pub should be (this was somewhat hammered in by the presence of a sign inside posing the question, "Hungry and skint?" My answer, yes.). Shout burger (think breaded onion and bacon so large and magnificent it must be folded over itself to fit), chips and pint for 5.50p, others for 3.50p. Drink specials on Fridays. A laptop hooked to televisions playing warm pub music and accompanied videos. Expression and life itself floats through the room throughout and between tables, replacing what in other areas is only filled by smoke and silence. It is a place to sit and moan about or celebrate life together, not turned into some sort of non-passive aggressive outlook and seclusion. What spills through the pub and out amongst the streets is an upholding of that life itself, and is far less stressful. Where thought can escape, stunned realizations of even smiles coming around for no particular reason other than they may and the Atlantic winds embrace them.

Sun through clouds, capturing both here. A strong wind, brief caresses of rain in the continued presence of all three elements, the point in which all meet. Not surprising for those walking about, nothing to run from. The world here drips, the windows spotted with calm collect drops at all times. Brilliant.

Edasi..

11 March 2008

Kui olnud välismaal võõrust maalt, когда за границе от иностранной страны (when abroad from a foreign land)..

Noh. Nii.
There has been a stealthy combination of nothing to speak of and everything to speak about of late. Mainly because this has been process, and with process in its continuity, there is nothing absolute of which to state.
What follows in a sudden urge to write is more a rush of small bits and illustrious moments than a single straight-wound tale (jutt). So I start at the end.
Currently in Glasgow, Scuootln', staying in a friend's flat for a few days to stave off the hungry last days of legality in Schengen. Well, the UK cooperates on police activity with Schengen but not on the visa rules.. so.. I think I win. The conversation in Estonian with the passport control lady inquiring of this reassured me. Not exactly sure why, as when I have such necessary conversations they often devolve into me comprehending basic trends, locked in by specific understood words and numbers, corralled by expression and body language. So by these standards, I 'can' come back into Estonia 'sometime'. Given that my point of re-entry should be Finland, and hoping that the information system isn't as connected as they would hope or that the border guard is more concerned about the ringing in his ears from the previous night's death metal show, shouldn't be a problem. Getting to London for the leg of this flight on Sunday might be, seeing as all of my credit cards were blocked and my Estonian one can't be used online. Makes sense. So I might take the train down, spend a night in Heathrow (wouldn't be a trip to the UK without an overnight airport stay!). It is quite odd being here and hearing 'English' spoken around. Of course it being English is debatable, this is Scotland. The accent and slang make it something that I try to translate in my head immediately after hearing; especially after striving to do this for the last three months with every conversation heard. This isn't helped much by hearing Gaelic (however unbelievably sweet.. though disappointing when it isn't accompanied by pikes, horses and large cuts of mutton) around from time to time.
The flight here was everything that amazes me about Eesti.. actually started missing it a bit as I was leaving. The terminal is all under construction, and after waiting for a bit by the gate which we were supposed to leave from, another check on the board showed that it had been quietly changed to the opposite end of the airport. The plane was parked a kilometer or so away, so took a bus to it. Problem was that the bus driver wasn't completely sure which plane we were getting off at and we sat in front of the wrong one for a few minutes before being shuttled three more down the row. There was massive turbulence around London, seeing as a hurricane had just gone through in the morning (ridiculous, and I am serious).

I have never been in a plane that was fishtailing before. I didn't know that could even happen. Amazing though, how laughter came before fear. Possibly because there was a big group of British staggers in front joking the whole time, giving a nice air freshener of cynical humour to the cabin. In their minds I'm sure one of the first thoughts was, "Well shit, if anything happens at least BBC will be spot on in time to get us on the telly!" That and "Fancy some fish and chips?" What. I'm in Scotland now, I have a right to say that. Plus any person who willingly covers themselves in apparel advertising drinking experiences aimed at ripping through the turf while binge drinking in the establishments and populations of transforming former Soviet states can shove it. Get some fucking courage if you are going to do stag weekends. Go to Yemen.

Right, so, anyways.. Glasgow is brilliant. Staying in a friend's flat who was in the eesti keelne suvekoolis, which is on the edge of a somewhat dishy part of town (not sure if that is actual slang, though just allowing a slight influx of actual UK English into my vocabulary while here has had drastic effects as such) but is quite new, incredibly clean and IKEA (so refreshing). Given this is accompanied by literally millions of posters of Celine Dion and Eurovision paraphernalia, but that is mainly confined to the bathroom and part of why Paul is so awesome.

Walking the other direction from toothless Highlanders and their dogs throws you into some really great streets however.. loads of industrial revolution era buildings everywhere, rising and falling over the hills (aaahhh, terrain!). The wind is somewhat surprising here. Given it is moreso as I am constantly reminded of it; the door to the balcony was likely put in place by a Scot tired from a long hour of work and ready to slam some 8 pints at the pub (after the shift started at 10am). Really, though.. I could sympathize. Buying bottles of beer seems rare, even browsing the one stand of it in the market here I felt like it was far too classy (and definitely expensive) an activity to undertake. Wine goes off the shelf a bit more, spirits in the mid range. Faced with that, why not take a pint? Wait. Faced with anything that is twice the dollar, why not take a few more pints (Tori if you read this, I had somewhat of a kick .. with myself .. in the plane when I realized 1 pound equals two dooolllarrrrsssz. I hope that makes less sense to you than it does to anyone else.)

The impressions I sort out from here are quite conflicted. At first I actually was dredging down being dumped back into Western culture, suppose in a way it takes less effort from me in daily life to prove that I am a part of it. Getting by seemed too easy in a way, being understood by and understanding everyone around me offsetting. It's been seeping in though, and I really enjoy the place. In one end, it's still not my home culture.. in another, it's provocative to stumble on the differences with British culture and society as well. It's a bit foreign to me again, and at the same time, something which would with proper drive and application (and funding, fucking hell did I complain about the conversion rate yet?!) could become part of my life, and lived. It's a bit cloudy as of now to try to digress more upon, however.. it's incredibly interesting. Some things are startlingly familiar, some faintly, some even set aside from anything touched upon before. It's in comprehending, acquiring and mixing these elements that everything focuses as its whole over time.

Näiteks; plastic bags. Don't need them. Carry them around with you, saves loads and once you see people diving through entire puffed up wads of them at the market it is sickening in a way. Alright, I didn't pull out the bag I always carry with me immediately here: I need to stock up on more bags to take back to Eestisse (score!). A somewhat lighter demeanor, the open possibility for banter, the openness and liveliness of friendships seen around the streets.. these however are well placed elements of the society. Obviously there is always the increased possibility for pricks as well, however that is what comes out of waking up every morning and thinking "What sort of smoothie should I have?" instead of "I wonder, if this unmaintained Soviet apartment made of cigarette butts collapses, will the asbestos, spent uranium stored in the walls, or infected needles from the apartment above me kill me first?" Complex.

Ну ладно уже, piisab. More to unfurl soon under the irony of island skies and fresh rain. Eyes drawn to ida (East).

Edasi..

05 March 2008

Напоминание.


Here's to Stephen Feinstein. A "great man," controversial for the sake of controversy itself.

02 March 2008

Hope and King.


Nii.. this post is again a long time coming (and loosely coherent, as a warning). This presents me with many difficulties.. choice of a topic, for example. Not that I actually choose one before writing or plan out where the random escapades will embark from or head towards. I could go on about how immersion is running. Where I am working (to various shifting degrees on all levels). How I am living (physically, mentally, and what has the possibility to come and not come). How I am planning to vote in November (seriously, D's, keep it interesting and don't super-delegate the wrong choice. We all want to see Billary lose (note: thanks, Economist) but.. sooner rather than later. Keep it fair.). And so forth. Comfortable topics, most of them. Lengthy, and much over-explained in daily interactions. I find it somewhat of a problem as I am used to living in a niche in a city. I have retained this niche (an active process which I am happy, excited and bitersweetly reminiscent in continuance) and expanded it across and within continents. So, with talking out events once I figure it out for myself. Another time, I begin to set a process in personal terms and in recounting what is going on. Further out, I go for the condensed version which would be much more convenient if bought in hardback (paperback sales would give me shit).
I suppose this is selfish, in a way. When I am talking with everyone back in the States I wish much more to understand what is going on with them, hear how they are forging their lives back home. I genuinely am interested, though at the same time I have the added benefit of peripherally reliving a mental perception of familiar processes. I miss Minneapolis, I miss friends there and those scattered towards the Atlantic coast. Hearing and interacting conversationally with realtime developments in a way is a mental trip back, renewed practice in Stateside living somehow distant from my physical, NEEuropean surroundings. It is, in a way, assisting in carving out a small personal, warm and comfortable American kiosk here Eestis. Increased watching of US television over the internet has helped loads to at least normalize this uneven thirst for familiar and linguistically clear interaction. Lost and the US Office are firm examples of visual crack.
These are the sort of moments that I was once highly expectant of and motivated towards in the States. It does feel like my motivation in doing.. anything.. has been incredibly stunted. I could be illegal in weeks. I (very very possibly now) will need to leave Schengen for a while. I could be opening my own company with startup capital provided by a small coffee shop chain, towards the acquisition of said residency permit. I could (should) be in Russia in months, the States in a period ranging from 3 months to 8 months to two weeks. I have some sort of job, which is literally forming itself before me. This is the gale force wind blowing from multiple directions while I toss myself about the daily waves. While I can firmly set myself towards a constantly shifting existence headed towards a permanent status of relocation (with many interspersed periods living in the Cities), I can also see myself settled into Minneapolis and traveling often in order to fulfill this constant pull towards movement. The pulls do not conflict, however current times are a steadying and harmonization of both constants. Settling and uprooting, routine and the winds. Both are necessary in a positive sense. It is the individual ongoing negotiation without permanent resolution (being starting points for further negotiation) that this embodies.
Well, I have sufficiently stated nothing concrete of any previously mentioned currents of thought and event. Fitting that none of these currently have any concrete form themselves.
Moving around and about soon. Suggestions welcomed to help sway opinion (especially if cheap flight quotes are provided from Riga, Tallinn or Helsinki). The only firm aspects of this temporary state of nomadic movement are that it must be outside of Schengen. So far on deck for thought are the UK (including Shetland), Ireland, Turkey, Macedonia, Kosovo, and Australia.
Also any cheap places to acquire reindeer herds would be appreciated. Even nomadic life requires some sort of directional foundation.

Edasi..