Wow...so much so quick...Italy is gone and Austria is here...the train ride was beautiful...we went through a tunnel that took 15 minutes and then an amazing long valley filled with vineyards, and fruit orchards...about 3 or 4 hours long. Venice was incredible and very beautiful...so neat to go on a gondola...we had a guitar and a gondola singer serenade us the whole way...
the y and the z are in the wrong spots on this kezboard, so substitute a y for a z because its reallz messing up mz tzping.
in venice we saw fireworks from St. Marco square and we stazed in a palace...just beside St. Marco square. We arrived in Venice about 5 exhausted from a verz long drive so we laid down for a rest...and a concert in our square filtered up into our open windows and we awoke to beautiful string quartet and singer. We went to Murano island and visited the St. Marco basilica which is so overwhelming.
It was hard to get used to Austria and saz goodbze to Italz...but now we are used to it...another language for me to conquer but Ralph is doing verz well Zesterdaz we went to Grosglockner mountain and glacier...the highest peak in the Austrian alps...we drove through a national park ...the road was built in 1935 ... as a public works project during the depression...it is beautiful and amaying and scarz with 36 hairpin turns and an altitude of about 3750 meters
We saw ibex and marmots called to each other their warning as we went by. Todaz is another rest daz...our feet are rather damaged...weäre going to Kitzbuhel todaz and Salzburg tomorrow.
I miss everzone at home...and we see lots of little dogs that I want to cuddle. Hugs to everzone. Till next time Kathleen
Thursday, July 19, 2007
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Hi you two. This is a fantastic blog to have for your travels. We were wondering how your trip was going. It sounds absolutely marvelous and that you are both really enjoying the trip. All is well with us. I took 1 1/2 weeks off first part of July and Beth, Leah and I took the little kids and Rob to the zoo one day, which was great fun. Beth and I were at the cottage for a couple of days with the kids as well. She and Dave are up there for this whole week and then Meag and Ray and the kids are going to stay there for all of next week. We had a birthday supper for the Daver (59th) last Sunday and that was fun. I think Corrie was up at the cottage for a few days and I thought she might be there on that Sunday, but she wasn't. I finally finished painting our master bedroom and got all of my garden stones finished so Kathy, you will finally get your birthday garden stone that you picked out last year, when you get home. James is well and totally enjoying the summer - we have coffee regularly on our deck in the mornings (the weather here has been absolutely fantastic, very little humidity but unfortunately also very little rain) - which is completely covered with virginia creeper now so no one can see us - even if I'm in my underware!!
ReplyDeleteWe're looking forward to your safe return and all of your stories and pix. We really miss you guys.
Not sure if you are able to access all of the emails from Annie so I'll paste them here for you.
Take care and keep having lots of fun!!!
Love you, Lynnie
From Annie
>>> "anne read" 18/07/2007 8:38 am >>>
My life is details. I wake early, buy espresso, walk to Ulpan – Hebrew language school, match verbs with pronouns, repeat simple questions, practice my script. I am amazed, bafooned and befuddled. I stumble through language, constructing mock conversations with myself. Time takes on new dimensions; it could be days or years that I have been here.
Jerusalem has my heart. My apartment is a block from the market, where stands of fresh fruit, bread, sweets and olives crowd cobblestone corridors. Here religion is the main pastime; my neighbourhood is closed on Shabbat and posts signs of 'dress modestly' in English and Hebrew. I visit the Palestinian territories regularly, yet still have psychological walls within myself around cultures, army presence, checkpoints and loudspeakers attached to mosques. It is a strange and unravelling experience to pass through worlds with only a passport in hand. Here everything is political. Yesterday I visited Bethlehem. Walls surround the entrance to this ancient city. The churches are empty. The taxi driver tells me at one time you had to stand in a cue three hours to visit the birthplace of Christ. Inside the sanctuary the echo of a cell phone's ring.
My time is spent between Tel Aviv, Jerusalem where I have an apartment, and the West Bank where I am conducting interviews with dialogue groups. I speak with soldiers, ex-prisoners, children. Here forgiveness is an active verb. Words are ammunition and adjectives declare your political leaning. Though I am in good health, I could spend years weeping, sadness flattens me and there is no language to reason with tears. The three weeks of mourning, leading up to the fall of the first and second temple, come to an end on Tuesday. Still standing, above us open heavens.
I miss you. I love you. I think of you with such fondness. Be well my loves. Anne
June 20, 2007
Israel: land of extremes. In Gaza civil war rages, the closest I come to it is sharing a sea. Helicopters stalk the horizon. The complexity of a political decision - to enter to not enter - to receive refugees - to protect a newly elected official, meanwhile houses burning, blood spilling into the Mediterranean. In Jerusalem my generation speaks of war pending. How to respond? I go to the University, attend a week long conference on the conflict, hear pitches on which came first religion or conflict, what is the source? culture? economy? land? Papers are presented, religions tokenized. A professor from Turkey and myself meet daily, speak of Islam, modernism, 'the good'. He is intrigued by Charles Taylor. I cross off possible Universities to attend, I return to meeting people.
I rent an apartment in the Old City for a week, enter through Damascus gate, amble along cobblestones alley-ways past shopkeepers, aging women selling fruits and leaves from blankets, children running, everyone calling out ' come', 'look', 'see'.
The apartment is set deep in the market, and is owned by a kind Arab family with many children. Inside three stone walls, small kitchen, an ant colony in the bathroom. The roof top opens a view of the Dome of the Rock, the golden mosque stands sure against the horizon, behind it the hill of graves leading up to Mount Scopus. I walk through the market, meeting children, we play soccer and checkers and talk about summer vacation. They ask about Canada, and when I speak of its land mass, one child says "Palestine and Saudi Arabia together are the largest country in the world." It is a strange sentiment to understand environment becomes us.
None of my Israeli friends visit the Old City, calling daily they ask of my well being. Fear transfers easily, and soon I too grew leery, apprehensive of lingering too long at any given corner, of asking the way to the kotel. I go to art exhibits, watch music performances, visit churches, synagogues and markets, meet artists and soldiers, drink coffee, ride buses, all the while contemplating my role in this complex culture. Everyone tells me I will never understand Israel - even if I stay 20 years. Here Jerusalem stone is the only legal building material. Everything cut from the same quarry, as though uniformity could enable unity.
I leave the Old City and return to Tel Aviv to interview an NGO about inter-cultural gatherings. The more I read, the more I listen, the less I understand. Oddly, I find myself at dinner with Al Foster - the drummer of Miles Davis - and his band. I hear myself in these Americans - presenting a solution, talking of steps, of two states and flooding a west bank Palestine with funds and infrastructure. I hear Israelis responding to the same questions I pose with a tired patience. Everywhere thorns everywhere flowers.
I love you all and miss your hugs. Speak soon
Anne
(P.S. my number is 011.972.50.815.1837)
June 8, 2007
Shabbot lingers on the horizon. The market place outside my hotel is bustling. I've been in Jerusalem four days now, searching for an apartment, looking, seeing, knowing less and less. I bought a cell phone (incredible - this indicates either pure necessity or a real shift in character) and anyone can call me - though I recommend buying a phone card with cheap minutes to Israel - the number is 972-5-815-1837. The apartment hunt, as in any new city, is both daunting and exhilarating. Options: brand new expensive apartments by the market, beautiful view of the city, central, busy, noisy; a shared home in a East Jerusalem - Arab village in a beautiful location above the cemetery and Mount Olives; shared basement apartment with beautiful garden space and view but the bedroom reminds me of a prison. How to decide? Still looking though my heart grows weary, and my feet tire of walking this cement. Besides the details, I'm meeting incredible people. Last night went to a metal-workers house, people were kind, artists, interested in beauty and the fragility of it. My Hebrew still lacking - though I'm sounding out letters and words yet without meaning. An acquaintance tells me the Hebrew letters are the DNA of the world. Do they precede mountains? the sea? Everywhere people tell me they simply want to live - to enjoy. Incredible to then think of peace talks with Syria, of the possible academic embargo against Israel, of the Arab villages on the far side of the mountain. This is Jerusalem. The puzzle is so great - it baffles me. Still there is food, wine, acquaintances with warm hearts.
I miss you all and love you dearly. Anne
June 2, 2007
Greetings my loves. Time passes quickly here and I find myself rushing out another email, counting the minutes remaining on my time card. I read the daily news about missiles in Sderot and turmoil in Gaza and the Northern Negev as though I were in Canada. Nothing effects Tel Aviv - here we wake, go for coffee, talk, visit the beach - it is a strange paradox, one I do not wish to get used to. On Thursday I rented a car and drove with a friend through the desert to visit the Dead Sea. High into the mountains, up to the Qumran caves the site of discovery of the Dead Sea scrolls, then plummeting down 500 meters below sea level to float in salt. Heights and depths - this country offers the experience of extremes. The mountains are inhabited by Kibbutzniks and Beadouin. A life of dust and struggle (these being judgements drawn from the interior of an air conditioned Mazda). At the side of the sea Lot's wife stands as a tower of salt, a reminder of the flaws of doubt - the looking back - the wondering regret. To view Jordan across a receding ocean is to unhitch myself from any understanding. After an afternoon of checkpoints (at which my friend quickly tires of my anxiety - repeatedly stating the army is friend not foe - a reality so far removed from my experience) we drive into Jerusalem. It is the full moon and the old city is packed with soldiers, believers and awe-struck tourists. The city comes at me like a gale - the smells, the height, the crowds, the driving - all of it a patterned chaos - a pattern I have yet to connect with. We walk by buildings over two thousand years old, and all I can think of is how much blood spilt for these stones, for this wall, simply for access. If we could understand the voices of these stones - maybe this would change us.
I return to Tel Aviv for Shabbat, then spend the day with newly made acquaintances who delight me with their stories, their perspectives - both ruthless and hope filled, history, struggle, numbness, perseverance. I am watching my opinions dissipate, seeing how my mind has been constructed by culture, by media. I seek understanding, but first simply need to listen, to hear. I think of the Arab boy, maybe eight years old, standing on the street corner shouting to us in Hebrew 'Lighters for sale. Lighters. Lighters'. What is this life?
I love you all and will write again soon. Send me your words.
Anne
May 27, 2007
Greetings my loves. How I am missing your voices, your understanding, your hugs.
I sit in a cafe in Tel aviv and type madly. I need to settle in somewhere, find a Internet connection and hook myself up.
The trip so far has been incredible. Prague is cubism's lifeline. The streets speak, history peers out from every window, the bridges connect past with present - entering into a people who have known time's passage. The city offered itself to me with such openness, every doorway a new encounter, every entrance an invitation. Prague is a living canvas. I adored my time there and was most pleased for the moments alone, investigating myself once again, entering each day with care. I just walked and walked, contemplating the voices contained in stones. I loved Prague.
I arrived in Tel Aviv Wednesday early morning, took a taxi into a scene of surprise. This is a city half built, half completed, half destroyed. New buildings raised beside a crumbling structures. All is mismatched. White washed cement makes up the majority of the architecture. Dust blows in from Egypt.
I met the landlady of the apartment I rented, she showed the place, simple, clean, with a delightful backyard. Then went to visit the sea. The Mediterranean reconnects me to myself. One body of water entering another. After I meet with Karen Messer, who then joined me at the apartment. Unfortunately the next day we woke to the municipal government workers coming in with gas masks calling out 'Anne Anne', holding out a cellphone as an offering. Through the phone the landlady explained an infestation of fleas had erupted in the neighborhood as cats, here considerably close to disease-ridden rats - though still cute, had taken over the backyards and gardens and behind them followed fleas. Anyways, after many chemicals, phone calls and a disrupted mind, I left the apartment to stay with my Israeli friend who lives in a penthouse close by. Good God, how good God is! The view is incredible, and I am delighted to be reunited with an old friend. As it has been Shavuot, the holiday where Moses receives the Torah, much has been closed, and my days fill up with simplicity. I visit the market, walk to the beach, swim, read the paper, speak with people. And while my being feels at rest, my mind scape changes deeply. To be here is to understand another Israel. To read the Jerusalem Post on this soil I feel the panic of isolation for the Jewish people. All around the threat of destruction, and it comes to mind that the mere existence of this place defies reality. Tears come quickly. There is much to understand. I open my eyes and ears and listen and see. This week I will visit Bar Ilan University. There is a conference on "Radical Islam" with some incredible speakers, there I will meet with the professor I would like to work with. Then on to Jerusalem. I'm sorry to send a mass email when I adore you all as individuals. Please write me and let me know how you are, I will write you soon. Much much love sent to everyone. Be well. Anne.
May 18, 2007
Greetings my loves. Just a note to say I've arrived in the beautiful city of Prague. Spoke all flight with a man from Bosnia, who survived the war with two children, spoke of peace building, dialogue and the human mind. We landed around 6 am. Swallowed dinner then a quick breakfast. Walked the city, went to Museums, saw Kafka's house, fell asleep in the park, ate delicious food, am exhausted. I am here until the 22nd then arrive in Israel early morning on the 23rd. Czech is an incredibly fluid language, one which I have yet to grasp the pleasantries of despite my day of practice. This is a city of marionettes and cobblestone, palaces and cathedrals, incredible in every way. I hope when I wake tomorrow things will seem less like a dream. I love you all. Write me anytime, and I will continue to tell you of my journey. Much, much love sent from the far side of the Atlantic. Annie
May 12, 2007
Greetings good people
Alas, my comfortable life a la Montreal has officially ruptured. After three years at ascent magazine, I have packed up my office, my apartment and bought a ticket to Israel for the summer. I'm excited and nervous, having but an idea of what awaits me. As it stands, I will begin research for my thesis, explore universities, make contacts with inter-faith dialogue groups, and experience as much of the Middle East as possible. I seek to open my eyes to a place I have thus far only read of. I'm half-way through a Master's degree, and far enough from that slip of paper to not feel the heat of success. I'm one sun cycle away from 30. I'm enough breaths into life to remember the lungs fill and the lungs empty. Shameless about my state of beginning and entering a new culture, I'm writing to say, if you have any suggested areas to visit, past sites of experience, good places to stay, things to avoid, friends, colleagues, family members who like conversation, advice or general encouragement, send word. I leave on the 17th of May and return end of August. I really look forward to hearing from you and will keep you posted about my encounters. Please make note my new email address.
Peace, peace.
Sincerely, Anne Read