The Freedom of Speech

A few weeks ago I got a facebook message from a friend asking if I wanted to go on a hike that weekend, being incredibly unemployed and poor, I was excited to have the opportunity to do something social and fun that cost no money and I'd not been hiking in ages. We were going to Mt. Eisenhower of the presidential range in the White Mountains, right near Mt. Washington. I'd never been to the White Mountains before and was only mildly prepared for the three hour drive. I also started the day on just over 2 hours of sleep. And being poor and with parents on vacation and not buying groceries, I cobbled together a makeshift snack/lunch bag consisting of tortilla chips, frosted mini-wheats, and a piece of cornbread, which I ziplocked and hastily threw into a messenger bag (great bag for hiking right?) and hustled out to Millie (my friend's Yaris).
   We picked up our other two compatriots for hiking, only one of which I'd met before. I was a bit antisocial during the ride up from hunger/fatigue and gathering my energies for the long day ahead. When we began our hike, we cycled through the typical conversations and silences while building momentum for hiking until the natural flow developed. But then, as ascended the rocky slopes across little streams and bridges, we could just speak freely and intermittently without awkward lulls, our topics while nothing profound were still meaningful because they were slightly more than idle chat and uninhibited in a way that only a world without technology and daily distractions can provide. When someone talked, the other(s) would listen because out in the woods it's just you and your fellow travelers, and if you speak it's with more deliberation and purpose, and the silences are more personal either from pensive reflection, or exhaustion after climbing a particularly steep rock-face. It was one of these conversations that inspired me to write this post as a my friend asked "If you were to write a blogpost about this hike, what would you write about it?" And I had to think, because while the views were quite amazing, nothing spectacular happened, no defining memory or nugget to cherish, but I enjoyed just talking to someone, not over the phone (not that people even have phone conversations anymore), or xbox or skype or anything like that, but in person and left entirely to our own devices. I even told a story about a friend I lost (by several definitions, none of them fatal) (Hint hint at an upcoming post). And it is through this mix of naturally flowing conversation mixed perfectly with quiet time that I realized how long it'd been since I'd just talked to people without specific topics in mind.
The top of Eisenhower had some great views, and though sweaty, we decided to get to the top of Mount Franklin one summit over. The guide book accurately claimed Franklin to be disappointing and it proved true as we weren't sure we reached the summit upon arrival, it was a flat path between the other more superior summits despite being a higher elevation than Eisenhower. After relaxing a bit on the sides of the paths that made up this peakless mountain, we began our descent and played another game to pass the time for a while before exhaustion and repetitive letters got the best of us, and we split into pairs between the faster and the not as fast in the final descent.

Cranes, Rains, and Automobiles (Euro-Trip Pt. 1)

     I recently had the extreme fortune to travel to Germany, Switzerland and Amsterdam thanks to the incredible support of friends and family. Germany was the start and end to our trip staying in Bremen with a friend who had been an exchange student at my school two years ago. We were there for forty-eight hours before Zurich. During this time, we roasted sausages over a fire at my friend's house, but the most significant part of my first experience in Germany was drinking in a field, visiting my friend's horses. This could technically be done anywhere in the world, in the U.S. not quite legally. But it was the first time where I was enjoying the moment, the three of us together again, enjoying a drink, feeding and petting horses, taking funny pictures. Because as is my general philosophy, travel isn't about the places, but the people and experiences. So even something as universal as a field for horses can become an occasion for a special moment, a unique memory. Another interesting, more minor detail, was that apparently the German literature market is less sexist than ours because all the Harry Potter books were by Joanne K. Rowling, instead of J.K. They have an easier time accepting that women can be good writers than we do. But that is a whole topic in and of itself, one which is not the nature of this blog.
    We left for a day of bus rides through the rolling hills of the German country side which was picturesque and spotted with wind turbines and little villages. At the exact time to the minute we were due to arrive in Zurich, after ignoring several announcements from the driver because my German is scarce, we arrived in Konstanz, Germany. Everyone got off the bus, we panicked for a moment that somehow we had been on the wrong bus and went to ask the driver, who unfortunately couldn't speak a lick of English. We showed him our tickets and pointed, and he started saying 'nein' interspersed with more phrases and words I couldn't quite catch. Uh-oh. We were stuck in the middle of Germany with no way to get to where we needed, or so we thought. Fortunately, a French woman overheard our plight and my French, being slightly better than my German was able to gather Zurich was the next stop. We were immediately relieved and I was glad to have the most minimal multilingualism to sort it all out.
     Zurich for me is a crane and a view. There was some amazing architecture, Grossmunster Church had spectacular stained glass and an incredible organ that looms ominously over the rest of the room. I struggled to follow the No Pictures signs as the whole building was just stunning. It did allow me to judge the other tourists snapping away on their smartphones with no regard for the rules. But the views, all of the distant Alps, were amazing. I've never seen such a beautiful mountain range, not that I've seen many to really compare it to, but it was such a perfect backdrop that complimented the old stone buildings and lake of Zurich. I took several pictures almost any chance I could get, jealous of the phones that had panorama modes while I had a digital camera from 2008 which is basically a relic though only 8 years old.
    As a sort of art/cultural exhibit Zurich had three very different installations going on in the city. The aim was to demonstrate what it would be like if Zurich was a coastal city with a big port. The smallest part was those little metal things tie on to along the lake and canals throughout the city, the second part was a rare foghorn that was scheduled to go off roughly once a week to simulate a ship entering/leaving port. But the biggest, most ostentatious, and most controversial part of this exhibit was a giant green defunct crane smack dab in the center of the city. To some it was a hideous eyesore, to others it was amazing and they wanted it to be a permanent fixture. For us, it was a hilarious mixture of both. We facetiously began obsessing over "The Crane" the almighty creation and supreme being.  And thus by being unimpressed by this art, we found humor in it, which in turn actually gave it value that we did appreciate. It is an interesting process to put value on a thing you don't initially take value in. Thus for us the crane was more personally enjoyable though still kind of a hideous fail in terms of being a cultural display especially given its size. Before returning to Germany, my girlfriend and I made various crane pictures and hid them around our friends' apartment for them to find hopefully scattered over a long period of time. Each picture had statements like "I am Crane, You are Crane, we are Crane" Upon discovering at least some of the crane pictures we got a message from our host saying "I am so goofy right now." And that was my Zurich experience, and while it has some of the best panoramas I've ever seen, and given me fond memories, I don't feel inclined to visit it again.
End of Part 1. There will probably be 2-3 separate posts before this thrilling adventure concludes.
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