Österreichisch Danke Tag

Thanksgiving is an odd day, and sometimes a tough one, for an expat.  To everyone else here, tomorrow is nothing special — a busy work day early in the Christmas season.  Sunday is the first day of Advent, and for Austrians that’s the focus at the moment.

But for an American family living abroad, tomorrow is an important day.  A day for being together with friends and family, a day to take time out to be together, a day to enjoy and relax and be festive.  Except that here, it isn’t.  It would feel wrong to ignore Thanksgiving, but it feels weird (for me) to try to create an American Thanksgiving in our Austrian home (I know others who do exactly that, though, and love it).

So, what to do?  We want to mark the day, but we don’t want to force it to be something it isn’t.  So, we’ve come up with our own Austrian-Thanksgiving traditions.

Dan takes the day off of work, and the boys don’t go to school, so we make it into a real holiday.  Actually, in order to help us all feel properly festive, they take off Thursday and Friday, too, so we can all enjoy a good, long weekend.  We sleep in (as best we can) spend a quiet morning, and then go out to celebrate.

I’m not much of a cook.  I can make a few things pretty well, but it’s not a strength or a passion of mine.  Attempting to assemble a big meal using our tiny Austrian oven would be a chore for me, not a joy, so it’s no surprise that our Austrian Thanksgiving means going out, not staying in.  We go to one of our favorite Viennese restaurants, and have turkey, potatoes and cranberry sauce — turkey schnitzel, potato salad and cranberry sauce, actually.  It’s our Austrian Thanksgiving feast.

After our meal, we head out to a Christmas market for treats, rides (for the kids) and general festivity.

And, to end our day in the true spirit of the holiday, we finish up with a Skype with family back home.  We get to say hello, chat a bit with everyone and be, just a little, part of Thanksgiving at home.

We love our Austrian Thanksgiving traditions.  They’ve served us well, and it’s become a fun celebration of the holiday.  I feel like we honor the day, but do it in a way that works in our current surroundings.  I’m looking forward to another great Austrian Thanksgiving Day tomorrow.

Happy Thanksgiving to all, here and at home.

You know you’ve lived in Vienna for a while when . . . (part 3)

My first two posts on this were really fun.  Now for some more . . .

You know you’ve lived in Vienna for a while when . . .

. . . you fully expect to be able to order organic apple juice anywhere . . . including McDonald’s
. . . although you’ve never understood it, prune paste no longer surprises you as a pastry filling
. . . you will never eat a donut from anywhere else again
. . . the Christmas season has an official beginning (St. Martin’s Day) and it doesn’t bother you that it’s in mid-November
. . . Socialism is not a dirty word
. . . you fear the Krampus (even as an adult)
. . . you know what those Nordic walking poles are for.  (Kind of.)
. . . someone hands you free produce in a train station and you don’t find it odd
. . . you’ve forgotten what a “snow day” is
. . . “God’s greetings” is a normal way of saying hello
. . . you always stop to chat with the neighbors, but never smile at strangers
. . . you have a spring coat and a fall coat in addition to a winter coat
. . . you look for lost gloves and hats on fence posts, not on the ground
. . . you know it’s always ok to complain about the weather, no matter how nice it is

(More to come!)

Ich gehe mit meiner Lanterne

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Liam getting set

Last night, we attended our third lantern fest at the kids’ school.  It is my favorite Austrian tradition, and it was extra special because this time, both boys participated.

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Benjamin takes his place (second from the camera)

It’s a wonderful evening.  All of the preschool kids at the school (about 60 of them), each holding a homemade lantern constructed of cardboard and waxed paper and containing an actual, lit candle, parade around the garden with their lanterns, singing, while the parents all take tons of pictures.  After a brief performance by the bigger children, explaining the celebration of St. Martin (Benjamin was a tree!), the parents take their children by the hand and we all go for a walk around the block in the dark, singing.  After our parade around the neighborhood, we all return to the school for Kipferl (like a croissant, but not flaky), warm drinks and a little socializing.  It’s fun, festive, and very sweet (if always a little cold to be outside for an hour).

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I love this tradition, and so do the kids.  For us, as Americans, it’s also a little astonishing — with the candles and paper lanterns, I’m certain something like this would never happen in the States.  (Some other parents we mentioned this to last night l042iterally did not believe us.  They thought we were exaggerating when we explained that it’s darn near impossible that a school in the US would allow 60 3-6 year olds to walk around in the dark carrying paper lanterns containing actual candles.  Their response was, “No way!  They’re just candles!”)

(Also, on further reflection, I’m pretty certain that this tradition is part of why Halloween hasn’t much caught on here.  The tradition of celebrating the Feast of St. Martin contains many of the same elements — lanterns, walking around the neighborhood in the dark — but without costumes or candy.)

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Benjamin, Liam and their best friends

The boys both did great.  They looked for Dan and I right away and were so happy to have us there.  Liam was composed and happy throughout, and B performed excellently as a tree during the short play relating the story of St. Martin.  I walked around the block with Liam, while Dan walked with B and his class.  All of the kids did great with their candle-filled lanterns.  (Although injury seems inevitable to my mind, this is our third year, and no one has ever gotten hurt by the lanterns, nor set their lantern on fire, nor poked anyone with the sticks they’re carried by.  Go figure.)

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I am so glad that my boys, and indeed our whole family, has gotten to participate in the tradition here.  I love it.  And now, officially, it’s time to start celebrating Christmas in Vienna.

An unexpected holiday

There are a lot of holidays in Austria, but since the UN celebrates a slightly odd combination of Christian, Muslim and Austrian holidays, we have a really hard time keeping track of the local ones.  Some mornings, we venture outdoors only to discover that Vienna is like a ghost town — shops closed, sidewalks nearly deserted, lots of open spaces on the trains and buses — even though it’s a weekday and a work day for Dan.

Having the boys in school hasn’t helped us learn the holidays much.  The school is open many (but not all) of the days when the shops are closed, and the school doesn’t provide any kind of an official calendar of the school year (even though we’ve asked).  We’ve learned to read the notices at the school very carefully.  But sometimes we still miss that a holiday — not just at the shops, but one from school — is coming up.

For example, even though this is our third November here, we didn’t realize that November 1 is one of those “big” holidays in Austria.  One of those days where the shops are closed, and so are the schools.  There were no signs, no notices, at the school.  I had this vague thought that November 1 is a big day in the church, and I noticed, last Thursday (October 31), that several shops had signs up saying that they would be closed on Friday.  It wasn’t until nearly 10:00 that night, after trick-or-treating that my brain connected the dots and it truly occurred to me that the school might be closed Friday.  We texted another parent, who (thankfully) responded very promptly, and it turned out that indeed the schools would be closed Friday.  No school.  A surprise holiday for the boys.

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As much as it’s great to have an unexpected day with the boys at home (almost like getting a snow day!), my brain doesn’t switch gears well for last-minute things like that.  And, while it was an unexpected day off for the kids, Dan still had to work, so instead of feeling like I had a surprise holiday, I felt more like I had a surprise 11 hour day of intense work ahead of me.

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But, I adjusted.  We spent the morning at the park and had a great day.  (Dan and I marvelled at the astonishing ability kids have to get up early on days off and sleep in when we have to be somewhere — even though they didn’t know they had the day off when they went to bed the night before, both boys were up before 6, when we’d been dragging them out of bed after 7 every other day last week!)

007We’ve been here 2 1/2 years, and this still happens to us, just like it did that first year.  Just when we’re starting to feel like we’ve kind of got this figured out, just when we’re starting to feel a little cool, this happens to remind us that we haven’t really and we’re not.

It’s ok, though.  That’s just how it is.  And Liam’s teacher, when I explained it to her, felt pretty bad about it and promised to write down the rest of the days when the school is closed.  So maybe … MAYBE … this unexpected holiday will have been the last.

A foreigner’s Halloween in Vienna

005More or less, we’ve found a place for ourselves here in Vienna.  We know our neighbors, we have friends, the boys attend a great school, we’re learning the customs and the language.  In the more than 2 1/2 years that we’ve been here, we’ve learned how to make ourselves comfortable here.  And while the internal sense of “otherness” never really goes away, I don’t walk around feeling constantly out of place (anymore).  We’re not locals, but we’re not tourists.  We live here, we’re not just visiting.

So it’s been a while since I felt really “foreign” here in Vienna.  But nothing will remind you of being from elsewhere more than celebrating a holiday that doesn’t really exist where you now live.

016That’s how Halloween felt for us this year — almost like we were having our own little celebration of it.  Halloween is catching on here, but slowly, and only with certain demographics — mostly older school children, teenagers and college students (who don’t need much excuse to celebrate anything).  There are a few painted pumpkins for sale at the grocery store, and a few gift and flower shops have a few black and orange items for sale, but mostly, Halloween is only vaguely thought of in Vienna.

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Undaunted, and wanting to bring my kids along in some of my favorite family traditions, we decorated, had costumes sent over by Grandma, and planned to trick-or-treat again.  Halloween morning, the boys chose their favorite Halloween shirts to wear to 027school, and when we arrived, we reminded the teachers that it was Halloween.  As the only Americans at the entire school, my kids were the only festive ones, which was a little weird.  I really wanted to enjoy Halloween to the fullest, though, so after I dropped the boys off at school, I stopped by our local toy store to ask them if they would fill up some Halloween balloons (bought on Amazon — no such thing in Vienna) with helium.  They were happy to help, and actually had a small but good selection of costumes and Halloween items.  I picked up a bag of fake spiderwebs (and spiders!) and a battery-operated flashing jack-o-lantern (since our actual jack-o-lanterns were already beginning to fall apart).  Surprisingly, for such a non-holiday here in Austria, they were having a bit of a 032run on Halloween items at the toy store, and my balloons caught a lot of interest.  The shop keeper insisted that I come back next year to do my Halloween shopping, instead of shopping on Amazon — “We will have lots of things next year!” she assured me.  So it looks like it may actually be catching on more and more.

We celebrated this year, again, by getting in our costumes (Liam, who had been practicing in his earlier in the week around the house, happily refused to wear his on the big night) and heading out to the “American area” of Vienna, out near the American school on the western edges of the city.  For the first time, we didn’t get lost getting out there, and even met a young woman on the bus who emigrated here 037from McLean, VA (just like us) the same year that we arrived.  Our trick-or-treat experience was almost identical to last year.  We visited about a dozen houses before the kids got worn out.  Some of the houses were spooky and festive, while some were so plain and quiet that we wouldn’t have known to stop by unless we’d seen other kids there before us.  Again, the average age of a trick-or-treater was very high, and we only saw a few little (elementary school aged) kids, and only one other as young as Liam.  Also, like last year, the older, Austrian kids did not do a good job of waiting and being patient with the little ones, and they again demonstrated a penchant for showering the neighborhood with shaving cream and silly string.  And, again, there was very little parental supervision of the older 040children (American and Austrian alike — not surprising, as kids over the age of 8 or 9 here typically travel all over the city on their own).  And that is all fine, just different.  We had a really nice time.  We visited friendly people who chatted with the boys about their costumes, and we spent the entire evening speaking entirely in English (which was a fun change for an outing).  We met one group of Americans that had set up a bonfire and a table of hot cider and soup for trick-or-treaters and their parents.  It was, definitely, a different experience than we would have had in the States, but a very fun and pleasant one.

046Truly, though, I miss home and my family on Halloween.  Decorating the house in preparation for my boys’ arrival at home made me wish they could be around my mom, and my sister, and my entire family on Halloween.  My family really does Halloween very enthusiastically.  I felt like I was channeling a bit of that with my spooky decorations (which the kids just loved).  I wish we could trick-or-treat with family, stopping by the houses of people we know and love, or hand out candy to other dressed up little ones.  I wish the boys’ school had a parade or a party.  I wish that most of the other kids trick-or-treating were little, like they are, and that everyone was in costume.  I wish they could see the fantastic, over-the-top way that someone always decorates their house.  I miss Halloween at home.

008I really was reminded of being “from somewhere else” on Halloween, but there were so many little things that were so nice.  Finding the cobwebs and spiders at the store, having the shop owner help me out by filling the balloons, the teachers at school making a point of wishing the boys “Happy Halloween!”, the jack-o-lanterns and spooky decorations at the houses we visited, the warm, inclusive feeling of being among other Americans (even if they were strangers, it didn’t feel like it) on this very American holiday.  And we were lucky to have great trick-or-treating weather on top of it all (no snow this year!).  Halloween is a day I miss home, most certainly, but we had a great, and festive, holiday here this year, as well.

You know you’ve lived in Vienna for a while when . . . (part 2)

Ok, I had so much fun with yesterday’s post, here are some more.

You know you’ve lived in Vienna for a while when . . .

. . . you have no idea how (or why) people survive without 6 weeks of vacation, plus sick time, plus maternity and paternity leave
. . . you’ve almost gotten used to writing your dates “backwards”
. . . whenever you refer to “home”, you have to specify where you mean
. . . you think in Celsius
. . . “hot” and “cold” weather now mean very different things (both colder than they used to)
. . . half of your English has become British English, just because it’s easier
. . . you have an accent that no one can place
. . . you’ve become very, very punctual — you apologize for being even 2 minutes late
. . . you cringe when people from home mix up Austria and Germany
. . . you aren’t surprised to see a dog anywhere
. . . Lederhosen kind of make sense and Dirndls seem appropriate for any occasion
. . . it seems perfectly normal that it should take over 2 hours to wash a load of laundry
. . . you know that the customs line at the airport is only for tourists
. . . you fully expect that shop hours will be religiously adhered to, but the opening hours of anything administrative are only a vague suggestion

(More to come!)

You know you’ve lived in Vienna for a while when . . .

As an American expat living in Vienna, there are a lot of things that seemed strange to me 2 1/2 years ago that don’t anymore.  I’ve changed, I’ve adjusted, I’ve gotten used to a lot of what used to be odd about living here.  I imagine that this progression is pretty common among expats who find themselves newly at home in Vienna (not just those of us from America).  And, so, I present . . .

You know you’ve lived in Vienna for a while when . . .

. . . you can say the number six without giggling in your head
. . . vanilla ice cream that tastes like lemons seems normal to you
. . . you carry an umbrella everywhere
. . . you never trust a weather report . . . not even one that is just reporting the current weather
. . . you know to walk well away from building overhangs in the winter (Achtung! Dachlawine!)
. . . you know to always check both ways, even when crossing a one way street
. . . you know that you can smell a horse a block away (or further)
. . . you know that deodorant is optional for far too many people
. . . you start to be more surprised by children who wear swimming suits than by those who don’t
. . . nudity at the pool or the lake seems perfectly normal
. . . you know that stocking up on milk and bread has to happen on Saturday morning . . . along with everyone else in Vienna
. . . you only vaguely remember what it is like to wait in an orderly line
. . . you can tell the time by the church bells near your house
. . . 24 hour time seems normal
. . . so does crossing your sevens

(More to come!)

What have I done?

Yesterday, several of my friends’ kids started kindergarten, just like B would have been if we were living in the States.  Seeing images of 5 year olds boarding school buses with sweet name tags and setting off for a familiar kindergarten experience got me a little panicky.  Because now I’m wondering, what have I done to my kids?  What am I doing to them by deviating from the “normal” (for me, as an American) experience?  Now I feel like we’ve really turned a corner and stepped off of the path I know.  Now it seems really real that the lives we’re living here are different.

My friends’ kids are going to kindergarten, on the school bus, in English, and learning how all of that works while mine . . . aren’t.  Next year, when we’re back in the US, B will be expected to know how those things work (more or less) but he isn’t getting the benefit of being “new” right along with everyone else.  They’re all expected to be new right now, to not really know how things work, and they’re all learning together.  Next year, he won’t know, but he’ll be the only one.

Basically, I’m left wondering if the things he’s gaining by being here this year truly outweigh the things he’s missing.  I’m freaking out a little.  I hope I’m changing their experiences, not ruining them, enriching their lives, not making a mess of them, allowing them to learn new things, not setting them back.  I hope, I hope, I hope.  Only time will tell, really, but I also hope that as long as we all look at these altered experiences through the lens of “different, not less than”, that it helps.

(I also haven’t had a good expat freak out in a while, so I guess I was due.)

Getting ready for school

I still have lots of stories to recount from our recent trip to England, Scotland and Ireland, but I’m taking a break from that today for something much more immediate — school starts again next week.  For Liam, this will be his first time going to school, but I suspect that his experience will be very unlike Benjamin’s.  (B struggled through the first weeks and even months, taking a long time to adjust to being away from me.  I give Liam 3 days before he’s running off without looking over his shoulder.)

They are both so excited.  B can’t wait to see his friends and teachers again, and he is so excited to be a Vorschule Kind (kindergartener).  Liam can’t wait to go to school “with Benjamin” (even though they will only see each other every so often, since they’re in different classes — I’ve tried to explain that to Liam, and I hope he understands).  We’ve been busy with all kinds of preparations for going back to school, and this is the kind of stuff that’s always an extra challenge to do in German.

Over the weekend, we went shoe shopping — along with what seemed to be every other parent in Vienna.  The shoe store was crowded with impatient parents and busy salespeople, and kids were leaving with lots of shoes.  (We saw one girl leave with shoes, house shoes, rain boots, snow boots and socks.  Busy day!)  We were all a bit frustrated at the wait, but the kids were excellent.  Once we’d gotten their feet measured, they each tried on just one pair of shoes they wanted (B chose his in the first minute we were in the store, while Liam had to consider the selection for a few moments) and declared themselves satisfied.  We also got Liam his first pair of house shoes!

001Today was for hair cuts.  B is a seasoned expert, but it was Liam’s first salon haircut . . . and the English-speaking stylist was out, so we did it in German.  B did great, selecting his desired hairstyle, climbing into the seat and sitting peacefully for his haircut.  I was nervous about Liam — worried the stylist would cut off his curls, or that he’d become unruly and have to be left partly finished, or worse, that he’d squirm or thrash and get hurt.  He was awesome about it, though — he sat quietly, followed instructions, tolerated the hair clips she used (to protect his curls!) and actually almost fell asleep near the end.  The only person to get scolded all day was actually me — the stylist said, “Mama, nicht schneiden!”  (Mom, don’t cut!)  I’ve apparently been cutting the sides of his hair a bit short, and she’d like to let it grow out a bit.  (No problem — I’m more than happy to retire my scissors.  I’ll be the first to admit that I was unqualified, and also probably the most relieved.)

006Over the next week, preparations will continue — we need to get house shoes for B, pack up ALL of the stuff for the first day (extra clothes, sunscreen, hats, diapers for Liam), choose outfits for the big day, and continue to prep Liam for the experience (both with regular information like how the day will go, plus a crash course in basic survival German).  We’ve got a lot to do.

I’m excited because they’re excited, and because I truly believe that this is a great experience for both of them.  B gets to be back with his friends, this time as one of the biggest fish in the pond, and learning more than ever.  Liam gets to embark on a whole new adventure of friends, school, German, and playing outside . . . but all of it without me.  I’m a little excited to have some free time for myself each day — not having to schedule my showers for only the hours when Dan is home, and being able to run errands unencumbered — but mostly, I don’t know what it will be like to be without either of my boys for part of the day.  I’ve never done this since I’ve been a mom.  It’s a strange sensation, and I’m hoping that a little more free time will be good for me (and thus, good for all of us).

015It’s strange, too, to think about how different this week would be if we were living in the States right now.  B would have gotten on the big, yellow school bus yesterday to start full day kindergarten (in English) while Liam stayed home with me.  Having B at school for only half a day, with the same friends and teachers he already knows, feels right.  Liam getting to go to school and experience this part of life in Austria, learning German and making friends, feels right, too.  Right now, I think what we’re doing here is best for us.  But for me, although getting some early “time off” will be nice (I didn’t expect to have free time until Liam starts kindergarten, in 2016), I doubt it will be as nice as spending the day with my little ones.  I’m going to miss my guys.

Public footpaths

049All across England, Scotland and Ireland, we encountered signs marking public footpaths.  These are (relatively) maintained walking paths that the public has a right to use.  It’s remarkable to me because, out in the country, they’re everywhere — not just along the edge of the road, or through parks or other public spaces, but very often through and across private land.

Following several of these public footpaths in England (we did less exploring on foot in Ireland and Scotland) we went across meadows, around lakes, into forests and through (occupied) sheep pastures.  (All of the pictures I’ve included in this post were taken while we were on a public footpath.)  Many of these areas are enclosed by fences and you have to pass 132through a gate (or a stile) in order to enter the field.  As a horse owner, and someone who spent a lot of time during my growing up years on a sheep farm, I’m astonished that this actually works.  (But, I guess it must, because I imagine that otherwise, something would change.)  I would have nightmares about my animals getting out, or someone getting trampled and suing (although things are different outside of the States when it comes to litigation).  Most of the gates we encountered were either kissing gates (basically a livestock comparison to an airlock door) or weighted to fall closed on their own, which is good, because people are generally bad at remembering to close gates (especially when the animals in question aren’t theirs).

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Even so, I think it’s a wonderful system, and I’m amazed, yet thrilled, that it exists.  Vast parts of the English countryside are open to the public, allowing so much of the beautiful land to be explored.  We weren’t limited to public parks and sidewalks, we really were able to explore.  It was fantastic.

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