home
It was last night that I found myself sinking low into the blown-out middle cushion of my couch and wondering with trepidation what twists and turns lurk in the European unknown.
What will shock me?
Who will challenge me?
When will mental and physical exhaustion overwhelm me?
How will this European Incident 2006 change me?
...not to be overdramatic. But this is a big deal for me. I didn't realize it 'til now, but I consider myself globally-minded--even well-traveled--but only by book and tv. This is the first actual test of what I've read and heard so much about.
And so I decided that some research--basic research--would be in order. This led me to purchase the AvanteGuide Prauge travel resource--hip, intelligent, handy. I won't digress here, though, because my point lies on pages 261-262 of the AGP. It is here that I read about layers and layers of tombstones lying up to 12 thick in the Old Jewish Cemetery.
And I started thinking--as heart-breaking as it is to know this burial sight was brutally forced upon the Jews-- I long for this kind of history, this rootedness. 12 layers. Maybe I'll feel more human, a part of millenia of history standing at the foot of a cohen's or tailor's grave.
Because to an American, history is 300 years old. But to a European it is 3000 years old. This American sense of independence from ages and ages of history isn't the way we were meant to live. Maybe Europe will in some ways feel more like home than the middle cushion of my couch.
Regardless, it is the presence of graveyards and sunken couches that--though death is inevitable--remind us that, for a few glorious years, this physical earth is our residence. It is what we call home.
It was last night that I found myself sinking low into the blown-out middle cushion of my couch and wondering with trepidation what twists and turns lurk in the European unknown.
What will shock me?
Who will challenge me?
When will mental and physical exhaustion overwhelm me?
How will this European Incident 2006 change me?
...not to be overdramatic. But this is a big deal for me. I didn't realize it 'til now, but I consider myself globally-minded--even well-traveled--but only by book and tv. This is the first actual test of what I've read and heard so much about.
And so I decided that some research--basic research--would be in order. This led me to purchase the AvanteGuide Prauge travel resource--hip, intelligent, handy. I won't digress here, though, because my point lies on pages 261-262 of the AGP. It is here that I read about layers and layers of tombstones lying up to 12 thick in the Old Jewish Cemetery.
And I started thinking--as heart-breaking as it is to know this burial sight was brutally forced upon the Jews-- I long for this kind of history, this rootedness. 12 layers. Maybe I'll feel more human, a part of millenia of history standing at the foot of a cohen's or tailor's grave.
Because to an American, history is 300 years old. But to a European it is 3000 years old. This American sense of independence from ages and ages of history isn't the way we were meant to live. Maybe Europe will in some ways feel more like home than the middle cushion of my couch.
Regardless, it is the presence of graveyards and sunken couches that--though death is inevitable--remind us that, for a few glorious years, this physical earth is our residence. It is what we call home.
posted by Kristin at 10:17 PM
