My room smells. It’s a combination of sour milk and a faint smell of diarrhea, which isn’t too far off from what the air outside smells like in general. And, the roads (dirt) are bright brown-red (the ones which aren’t paved, which is 95% of the city of Bissau). It rains here almost more than it does in New England, and it rained practically all day today. Maybe this was the cause of the constant black-outs in the grocery store today. The hotel lost power early this morning too, when I was just getting up.
Just about all the people here are skin and bones. Even the hotel workers. Today I gave up three different food items to three different people looking to sell silly little items like phone cards, and a car washing. I knew they needed it way more than I did: a guava drink, a coke, and a banana. I was thinking tomorrow I would go in a grocery store, buy a bunch of groceries with my lunch expense, and hand them out to some children. Though I know that sadly, once they are done with these things, the remains are thrown into a ditch. There is no sense of cleanliness here, at all.
We went out to lunch today at a restaurant that was “highly recommended”; well, relatively speaking. We took our driver to lunch as well. Upon sitting down, we were given a basket of stale bread that had tiny ants crawling throughout it. Yum. Joe actually ventured to eat one of them for some strange reason. I ordered the fish of the day which was served eyes, teeth and bones in all. Luckily, it wasn’t too bad and tasted fairly fresh. The only fresh fruit/vegetables and meats are sold by vendors on the side of the street. And normally, you must buy your meat alive and slaughter it yourself. Bon appetite!
We ventured into one of the restaurants we use as a “fast food place” and there were flies everywhere, dirt all over the floors, they were in the middle of painting all the walls, it smelled, and there was a guy in the corner laying down and napping. Yum. We got the price of a cheeseburger and got out of there as soon as possible.
A girl in one of the grocery stores today stopped Joe and motioned to diving into his backpack and flying away with him. (Not sure if it was him she wanted or just to get out of there!) She spoke very little English, but while I was off getting some prices Joe tried to talk with her and she mentioned that we should come back tomorrow and have a drink, or something like that. So, we might! So far, she has been the only person I have met here with any energy to her, whatsoever. Everyone else never smiles and just kind of go about life mundanely. Not that they are not helpful, they just really don’t appear to have much life to them. One of the workers we kept trying to get prices from kept disappearing. We finally found him (after he had already been yelled at!) helping his friend try on a pair of new shoes. There really isn’t much incentive to do anything here, the economy all consists of only dead-end jobs. We asked our driver today what his son does and he said he works on a farm.
I might use one of the owners of the grocery stores for a housing source. When we were asking for permission, he was trying to tell us that he could tell us about the price of apartments too. I was so excited because I need to do this but there is NO ONE to talk to here; (no realtors). Also, I find it interesting to see a place where 99.9% of the foreigners are either embassy workers, or UN/Worldbank workers. Their trucks and houses and embassies seem to be everywhere because they are the absolute only nice building structures that exist here.
Flatbed trucks are used to teach people how to drive; (surprisingly, you still need to go to driving school to get a license! Despite not one traffic light in the whole country). There is an election on Sunday (we didn’t even know that the borders were going to be closed Saturday on for election purposes!) so there are people from the two parties promoting their party through song, dance and flags/signs all over the city. Large flatbed trucks carry numerous people dancing around with flags of the one they support waving. Their president and the head of the military man were both assassinated earlier this year.
Friday, August 7, 2009
It's a little too early for visitors....
I wake up this morning because I swear I hear a knock on my window. I lie there for a few minutes, determining that I must have heard something above me. I close my eyes and start to fall back asleep. After a couple minutes, I hear it again, on and off and then suddenly it almost sounds like someone’s throwing a bouncy ball at my window. I freak out and run over to Joe’s room and knock on the door and say “someone is knocking on my window and I am so freaked out!” By this point, it’s almost 7 am. So he says “why don’t you look from my window”. I do, and see nothing. So, I say OK, I’ll go look out my window. I do, while still hearing the noises, still completely freaked out, and there are two blackbirds hauling themselves repeatedly at my window. WTF. Thank GOODNESS I just wasn’t alone! Though, this is when I notice two guards with big machine guns in the near distance, And I’m thinkin maybe this ought to make me feel a little better next time I need to look out the window again…..????
Today… was nuts. Joe and I locked up just about all our belongings in our suitcase (just in case) and headed to breakfast where we picked and chose from the fresh fruits with frequently landing fruit flies(all of which had been cut open from fruits with thick skin! Very important because they don’t need to be washed off), and some bread/scrambled eggs/baked beans of some sort/hot dogs things. So I picked and chose a little from an unpeeled banana, piece of bread, a little beans and a half a dog. We even had coffee with milk, and we were successful, no sickness yet (knock on wood)….
We asked the hotel to call us a taxi and she wanted me to give her my phone so she could call because she said she couldn’t do it from the hotel, but we didn’t have one that works here. She eventually was able to call somehow and a taxi would be there in 30 minutes, which turned into 45 before he actually showed up – PS the hotel speaks no English; I got along with a little Spanish only.
We venture into the town… and it’s really just amazing. Probably at least 85% of the population lives in little huts made of trees and such but their property (in the “suburbs” just minutes outside the city) appears to be kept considerably clean. Pigs are running wild and goats are being “walked” on chains. The only real infrastructure there is was put up by foreign ministries – there are nice guarded houses right in the center for the foreign delegates and reasonably built buildings for the embassy workers but, that’s about the extent of it. The central market area is a shit show of chaos along the “roads” and on the streets crowded by hundreds of people walking around in the very slow, nonchalant, I’m going nowhere fast type of African walk that I have never seen anywhere else but in Africa. It sure is dirty, but it’s not the stifling city that Luanda was; it is much smaller and clearly much less populated than I remember Luanda to be. Because of this, it has a cleaner feel to me, but it surely is much less developed. There are beautiful African dresses everywhere, and lots of buckets on heads (which I love to see!) and even some great artesan work.
We go to the first grocery store which is right downtown. This store is far from air-conditioned but has a better selection than I thought they would have. After just 10 minutes I am SWEATING BALLS more than I have ever in my whole life, and was feeling really uncomfortable but knew I had to keep on plugging away. I had sweat stains all over my shirts and had beads dripping down my face. There was a guy there who apparently worked there and was either deaf or had a very difficult time speaking for one reason or another, and he kept babbling very loudly to customers coming in and out of the store. Meanwhile, there was a girl in the store who just sat around and watched everyone but came up to help me out anytime I was clearly lost cause I couldn’t find the price. Suddenly in the middle of pricing the lights start to go out and a worker mumbles something to me after staring blankly to my left. Closed now, open again at 4 PM.
So we continue on via car (very slowly cause there are holes everywhere in the road) to a pharmacy where we find a really nice guy who spoke a little English who helped us with all the medications we could find. What we couldn’t translate, Joe drew pictures for the guy. Sharades! Meanwhile he offered Joe and our driver some tea (but not me!) A boatload of nationals flew buy in a flatbed truck singing, chanting and waving flags (I didn’t get my camera in time), but I jumped for joy in intrigue and the guy said “you like?” I said “yes!” He said “then you go” and we both started laughing.
Then we went to a paper store where we met the owner who was Lebanese and had at least 5 young workers under him. After seeing his gated house, BMWs, and him telling us about his $9,000 medical trip to Senegal, Joe convinced me that this guy had to be a major drug dealer. Really, why else would this Lebanese guy want to live in Guinea Bissau – the #1 drug trafficking country in the world? Especially after complaining how absurdly expensive taxes were to import his few paper products in a dingy store that he had. Well, Joe and I were invited to eat lunch with him at his house on Wednesday so I will let you know how much more proof we can get for our story. He was a really nice guy though, who spoke English very well and gave us many ideas for our survey.
We eventually moved on to a Toyota dealership where we met a French guy who had lived in Guinea Bissau for 2 years with his wife and 2 kids. Before this he was in Kinshasa. God knows why he would ever want to live in Western Africa with a 5 year old and a 6 month old in a job that probably doesn’t even pay very much for years. He also was extremely helpful and provided us with many contacts. Going into all these stores were just mind-blowing. They were all dirty and run-down and dingy and cracked to say the absolute least. There was luxury nothing in this country. As a matter of fact, I was shocked to see a family living in a straw hut literally right outside the barriers of our hotel.
We ended with another spaghetti rendezvous (and I even tried some shrimp this time… all is well) and then I started passing out while going over prices (but promptly woke up after a shower with enough time to write!)
Goodnight, more tomorrow.
Today… was nuts. Joe and I locked up just about all our belongings in our suitcase (just in case) and headed to breakfast where we picked and chose from the fresh fruits with frequently landing fruit flies(all of which had been cut open from fruits with thick skin! Very important because they don’t need to be washed off), and some bread/scrambled eggs/baked beans of some sort/hot dogs things. So I picked and chose a little from an unpeeled banana, piece of bread, a little beans and a half a dog. We even had coffee with milk, and we were successful, no sickness yet (knock on wood)….
We asked the hotel to call us a taxi and she wanted me to give her my phone so she could call because she said she couldn’t do it from the hotel, but we didn’t have one that works here. She eventually was able to call somehow and a taxi would be there in 30 minutes, which turned into 45 before he actually showed up – PS the hotel speaks no English; I got along with a little Spanish only.
We venture into the town… and it’s really just amazing. Probably at least 85% of the population lives in little huts made of trees and such but their property (in the “suburbs” just minutes outside the city) appears to be kept considerably clean. Pigs are running wild and goats are being “walked” on chains. The only real infrastructure there is was put up by foreign ministries – there are nice guarded houses right in the center for the foreign delegates and reasonably built buildings for the embassy workers but, that’s about the extent of it. The central market area is a shit show of chaos along the “roads” and on the streets crowded by hundreds of people walking around in the very slow, nonchalant, I’m going nowhere fast type of African walk that I have never seen anywhere else but in Africa. It sure is dirty, but it’s not the stifling city that Luanda was; it is much smaller and clearly much less populated than I remember Luanda to be. Because of this, it has a cleaner feel to me, but it surely is much less developed. There are beautiful African dresses everywhere, and lots of buckets on heads (which I love to see!) and even some great artesan work.
We go to the first grocery store which is right downtown. This store is far from air-conditioned but has a better selection than I thought they would have. After just 10 minutes I am SWEATING BALLS more than I have ever in my whole life, and was feeling really uncomfortable but knew I had to keep on plugging away. I had sweat stains all over my shirts and had beads dripping down my face. There was a guy there who apparently worked there and was either deaf or had a very difficult time speaking for one reason or another, and he kept babbling very loudly to customers coming in and out of the store. Meanwhile, there was a girl in the store who just sat around and watched everyone but came up to help me out anytime I was clearly lost cause I couldn’t find the price. Suddenly in the middle of pricing the lights start to go out and a worker mumbles something to me after staring blankly to my left. Closed now, open again at 4 PM.
So we continue on via car (very slowly cause there are holes everywhere in the road) to a pharmacy where we find a really nice guy who spoke a little English who helped us with all the medications we could find. What we couldn’t translate, Joe drew pictures for the guy. Sharades! Meanwhile he offered Joe and our driver some tea (but not me!) A boatload of nationals flew buy in a flatbed truck singing, chanting and waving flags (I didn’t get my camera in time), but I jumped for joy in intrigue and the guy said “you like?” I said “yes!” He said “then you go” and we both started laughing.
Then we went to a paper store where we met the owner who was Lebanese and had at least 5 young workers under him. After seeing his gated house, BMWs, and him telling us about his $9,000 medical trip to Senegal, Joe convinced me that this guy had to be a major drug dealer. Really, why else would this Lebanese guy want to live in Guinea Bissau – the #1 drug trafficking country in the world? Especially after complaining how absurdly expensive taxes were to import his few paper products in a dingy store that he had. Well, Joe and I were invited to eat lunch with him at his house on Wednesday so I will let you know how much more proof we can get for our story. He was a really nice guy though, who spoke English very well and gave us many ideas for our survey.
We eventually moved on to a Toyota dealership where we met a French guy who had lived in Guinea Bissau for 2 years with his wife and 2 kids. Before this he was in Kinshasa. God knows why he would ever want to live in Western Africa with a 5 year old and a 6 month old in a job that probably doesn’t even pay very much for years. He also was extremely helpful and provided us with many contacts. Going into all these stores were just mind-blowing. They were all dirty and run-down and dingy and cracked to say the absolute least. There was luxury nothing in this country. As a matter of fact, I was shocked to see a family living in a straw hut literally right outside the barriers of our hotel.
We ended with another spaghetti rendezvous (and I even tried some shrimp this time… all is well) and then I started passing out while going over prices (but promptly woke up after a shower with enough time to write!)
Goodnight, more tomorrow.
Here goes trip #4...
Back in Africa, already on survey trip #4.
I called my taxi friend Mounir to see if he could pick me up and take me to the airport (from Boston), but it wasn’t during his shift. So instead, he rearranged for his friend to come get me in the morning. To my surprise (and delight), this disheveled girl in sweatpants took a black towncar with tinted windows to the airport in style. When I asked about the cost, Mounir’s friend Anise said “whatever you usually pay Mounir, maybe twenty-something? So I happily gave him thirty which was a good deal!
Walking through the security line, a guard mentioned to me: “We are hiring”. I said what? I didn’t think I understood what he was saying. Then he said, “you are so organized going through the security line, you clearly have done this before. I wish everyone could do it this well!” A good start to the survey, and yes – I sure have done this before!
By NY, I was tired already. Joe and I got a snack and a beer and walked around to find a post office so I could so generously mail back my T-pass I had taken with me on accident so my roommates can use it for the month. We both got mesmerized by a fish tank before deciding that maybe we ought to close our eyes for a few. Then right before boarding I decided maybe it would be a good idea to get some greens before heading somewhere where it would be a bad idea to eat any due to bacteria. This 5 hour layover was way too long, and I didn’t get nearly enough sleep last night.
The flight over wasn’t too bad. Minimal turbulence but even though I was exhausted, I only got about an hour and a half of sleep, and same with Joe. We watched a movie and then I used the opportunity to catch up a little on writing. The flight was only 7.5 hours, I thought it was going to be much longer.
Dakar was a trip and a half. We found it intriguing that this tiny run –down airport was considered a major hub in Africa. We waited for someone to attend to those in transit but there was no one, so we just went on through customs, picked up our luggage even though it was checked through to Bissau (just in case) and our carryon that they made us check in the plane before boarding (which we were freaking out about because there was no indication it would be taken off at Dakar since our flight was continuing on to Nigeria). From there, we were let out into the world of Dakar since we had no idea where to go for departures. The guards told us where to go but not surprisingly, hagglers saw us and grabbed our bags (for us) during a tight squeeze through two polls. Ahhh here we go already I thought. We told them we had no money on us in attempt for them to let our bags go. It’s ok it’s ok they say. We checked on our flight and were ushered into a restaurant waiting area which I assume all the foreigners go to so the locals know where to go and harass them. We order a beer and then our “friends” took me to exchange money in a super sketchy black-market way in a small little shop that sold god knows what, and before they took off, guess what they wanted. Not knowing the exchange rate, we gave them too much and then once we figured it out, felt pretty disappointed in ourselves.
Already we were feeling discouraged and tired and cranky. Every now and again a guard would come in and look around and kick out anyone who wasn’t clearly a foreigner. Though we had one guy come in and sit at the table next to us, he was nice, but all he wanted is some money and he just sat there for hours and hours. At one point he said he was going to sit there and “protect” us and he wanted money for it. Though we ran into him when we were going to check in and he helped us to get a better exchange rate than we got a few hours before so we gave him a little money for “his family that needs to eat”. At least you know here that this excuse Is probably very true. We even had an airport worker in uniform who helped us get into the right line for check-in for Bissau ask for some money for his guidance. Ummm sorry, I think we learned our lesson the first couple times. Our flight was delayed but we didn’t care because we were passed out on our luggage up until it was time to board. This transit just seemed to take forever.
Joe slept the entire hour and a half flight over, from the second we sat down till the second we had to get up. I just sat and prayed for my life since I HATE flying in Africa, though the plane itself wasn’t bad at all. It was a Cape Verdian airline but the airplane itself appeared to be fairly modern.
We landed at an even tinier, completely run-down airport in Bissau. So far, I immediately notice that what I think really saves this country is their lively green vegetation everywhere – (I bet with the proper infrastructure they could do a lot with their agriculture!). But immediately exiting the aircraft I could smell Africa. It was the same smell as in Angola and I have no idea how to put my finger on describing it. It is probably a very dirty smell, though it is distinct but I wouldn’t exactly describe it as dirty. On the way in I broke off the handle of my carryon, and then once I pick up my checked bag I noticed that my bag is ripped and the handle is dented and now keeps getting stuck. Bad luggage luck I guess. We are greeted from someone from the hotel who puts my two bags in a small, rust-filled trunk with liquid dripping in it from the top (which he cannot close) and walla! We are ready to go.
We arrive at the hotel and this is when I notice that I have a very large brown marking from dirt on the whole right side of my breast and down to my stomach. I ask Joe “did you notice this before” and he replies “no, sorry I wasn’t looking at your breasts”. Hahaha. But I’m still not sure how I got this. The people at the hotel speak very minimal English. I am actually impressed with the hotel, after everything I have heard about this city. It has A/C (absolutely needed!) I haven’t seen a mosquito in my room yet, there is hot water, and even a decent looking tv (which probably doesn’t work anyways). I did find a dead beetle on my grossly stained floor, and my room smells, and who knows how clean the bedsheets are. Also, I may or may not be currently listening very clearly to people directly above me having sex. There is absolutely no means of communication, well not today anyways. (The internet doesn’t work today, but we were told it might work tomorrow). You can’t call the US from the hotel, and I doubt we’ll find anywhere else where an international call is possible. It sure is a humbling feeling, and I just hope my Mom isn’t worrying about me right now. My goal here is just don’t get really sick like the last 2 surveyors to come here! I think if I can handle this, we’ll be golden.
I called my taxi friend Mounir to see if he could pick me up and take me to the airport (from Boston), but it wasn’t during his shift. So instead, he rearranged for his friend to come get me in the morning. To my surprise (and delight), this disheveled girl in sweatpants took a black towncar with tinted windows to the airport in style. When I asked about the cost, Mounir’s friend Anise said “whatever you usually pay Mounir, maybe twenty-something? So I happily gave him thirty which was a good deal!
Walking through the security line, a guard mentioned to me: “We are hiring”. I said what? I didn’t think I understood what he was saying. Then he said, “you are so organized going through the security line, you clearly have done this before. I wish everyone could do it this well!” A good start to the survey, and yes – I sure have done this before!
By NY, I was tired already. Joe and I got a snack and a beer and walked around to find a post office so I could so generously mail back my T-pass I had taken with me on accident so my roommates can use it for the month. We both got mesmerized by a fish tank before deciding that maybe we ought to close our eyes for a few. Then right before boarding I decided maybe it would be a good idea to get some greens before heading somewhere where it would be a bad idea to eat any due to bacteria. This 5 hour layover was way too long, and I didn’t get nearly enough sleep last night.
The flight over wasn’t too bad. Minimal turbulence but even though I was exhausted, I only got about an hour and a half of sleep, and same with Joe. We watched a movie and then I used the opportunity to catch up a little on writing. The flight was only 7.5 hours, I thought it was going to be much longer.
Dakar was a trip and a half. We found it intriguing that this tiny run –down airport was considered a major hub in Africa. We waited for someone to attend to those in transit but there was no one, so we just went on through customs, picked up our luggage even though it was checked through to Bissau (just in case) and our carryon that they made us check in the plane before boarding (which we were freaking out about because there was no indication it would be taken off at Dakar since our flight was continuing on to Nigeria). From there, we were let out into the world of Dakar since we had no idea where to go for departures. The guards told us where to go but not surprisingly, hagglers saw us and grabbed our bags (for us) during a tight squeeze through two polls. Ahhh here we go already I thought. We told them we had no money on us in attempt for them to let our bags go. It’s ok it’s ok they say. We checked on our flight and were ushered into a restaurant waiting area which I assume all the foreigners go to so the locals know where to go and harass them. We order a beer and then our “friends” took me to exchange money in a super sketchy black-market way in a small little shop that sold god knows what, and before they took off, guess what they wanted. Not knowing the exchange rate, we gave them too much and then once we figured it out, felt pretty disappointed in ourselves.
Already we were feeling discouraged and tired and cranky. Every now and again a guard would come in and look around and kick out anyone who wasn’t clearly a foreigner. Though we had one guy come in and sit at the table next to us, he was nice, but all he wanted is some money and he just sat there for hours and hours. At one point he said he was going to sit there and “protect” us and he wanted money for it. Though we ran into him when we were going to check in and he helped us to get a better exchange rate than we got a few hours before so we gave him a little money for “his family that needs to eat”. At least you know here that this excuse Is probably very true. We even had an airport worker in uniform who helped us get into the right line for check-in for Bissau ask for some money for his guidance. Ummm sorry, I think we learned our lesson the first couple times. Our flight was delayed but we didn’t care because we were passed out on our luggage up until it was time to board. This transit just seemed to take forever.
Joe slept the entire hour and a half flight over, from the second we sat down till the second we had to get up. I just sat and prayed for my life since I HATE flying in Africa, though the plane itself wasn’t bad at all. It was a Cape Verdian airline but the airplane itself appeared to be fairly modern.
We landed at an even tinier, completely run-down airport in Bissau. So far, I immediately notice that what I think really saves this country is their lively green vegetation everywhere – (I bet with the proper infrastructure they could do a lot with their agriculture!). But immediately exiting the aircraft I could smell Africa. It was the same smell as in Angola and I have no idea how to put my finger on describing it. It is probably a very dirty smell, though it is distinct but I wouldn’t exactly describe it as dirty. On the way in I broke off the handle of my carryon, and then once I pick up my checked bag I noticed that my bag is ripped and the handle is dented and now keeps getting stuck. Bad luggage luck I guess. We are greeted from someone from the hotel who puts my two bags in a small, rust-filled trunk with liquid dripping in it from the top (which he cannot close) and walla! We are ready to go.
We arrive at the hotel and this is when I notice that I have a very large brown marking from dirt on the whole right side of my breast and down to my stomach. I ask Joe “did you notice this before” and he replies “no, sorry I wasn’t looking at your breasts”. Hahaha. But I’m still not sure how I got this. The people at the hotel speak very minimal English. I am actually impressed with the hotel, after everything I have heard about this city. It has A/C (absolutely needed!) I haven’t seen a mosquito in my room yet, there is hot water, and even a decent looking tv (which probably doesn’t work anyways). I did find a dead beetle on my grossly stained floor, and my room smells, and who knows how clean the bedsheets are. Also, I may or may not be currently listening very clearly to people directly above me having sex. There is absolutely no means of communication, well not today anyways. (The internet doesn’t work today, but we were told it might work tomorrow). You can’t call the US from the hotel, and I doubt we’ll find anywhere else where an international call is possible. It sure is a humbling feeling, and I just hope my Mom isn’t worrying about me right now. My goal here is just don’t get really sick like the last 2 surveyors to come here! I think if I can handle this, we’ll be golden.
Brats
Bratislava was really nice. I really didn’t like, however; that the hotel was just really snobby. A girl at the business center was a huge b***h and she wasn’t amused at all by my need of her help. Also, the hotel staff seemed to treat me like someone who had no money, which I didn’t like at all either.
Jakub came to visit me here, a friend I met back in November. His visit was really nice especially since I knew nothing about Bratislava. He showed me all around the city, up to the really strange space dome at the end of the bridge, and we also walked throughout the old city, which is absolutely beautiful by night and by day. Great restaurants here, too. So very much to choose from. Jakub’s visit was the highlight of this visit, for sure. Bratislava is a super cute city that I would recommend to anyone, but in survey terms, nothing hugely note wise stood out here.
It was lovely to be home again for another 6 weeks, but; I ended up heading out early from the US to hit up Africa and the Caribbean area. Talk soon!
Jakub came to visit me here, a friend I met back in November. His visit was really nice especially since I knew nothing about Bratislava. He showed me all around the city, up to the really strange space dome at the end of the bridge, and we also walked throughout the old city, which is absolutely beautiful by night and by day. Great restaurants here, too. So very much to choose from. Jakub’s visit was the highlight of this visit, for sure. Bratislava is a super cute city that I would recommend to anyone, but in survey terms, nothing hugely note wise stood out here.
It was lovely to be home again for another 6 weeks, but; I ended up heading out early from the US to hit up Africa and the Caribbean area. Talk soon!
Trekkai and restaurants, and restaurants, and restaurants...
Today I went to Trekkai castle. It is very mid-evil here! Castles look like ones I built years and years ago with legos. Really cute area, not super exciting but I had my own personal tour guide which was really nice until they told me at the end of the trip that it was gonna cost 150 lt (instead of 100 which I was told I would pay) because I was the only one on the tour! In the beginning (after I got on the bus) they said it might be a little more because I was solo, but didn’t say how much more! So, unfortunately for them, I didn’t give an extra tip at the end. Too bad because the girl was very nice, and she was young too. It was interesting to hear her talk about the Soviet ways and how people just aren’t use to being independent. Stuck in their old ways; she even said that even she was in some ways.
When I got back from the tour, I spent the rest of my time walking around the Old Town and taking pictures. Overall, it was a very relaxing, wonderful day enjoying the city. This is why I survey!
I went to a couple great restaurants while I was here. One of them was La Provence. It is a French restaurant. There were all sorts of business people there while I was eating, so I tried to play mysterious and tried to pretend I was super-important amongst all the businessmen speaking English. But, I probably didn’t do very well.
On the last night, I had finished my survey and sat down to have a beer. I STUDIED the restaurant guide like only I can and decided that even though a little pricey, I really wanted to try a particular restaurant which was highly recommended. While sitting and having a beer (pre-restaurant departure), I met a couple of Finnish guys who were there on a bachelor party (one out of the two of them were getting married very soon!) Actually, the one getting married was a bit creepy, while the other one was really cool. The one about to get married mentioned to me that he was in an “open” relationship – (he clearly had other intentions for me), and this sketched me out a little bit. But, I mention that I was just about to leave to go for dinner (and was having good conversation with them at the time), so they asked if they would be able to join me, and I obliged. (What else do you say to that question anyways?) We arrive at the restaurant and immediately I feel like I don’t belong. I am in better shape (dress-wise) than the other two guys, but even still – they may have had one-too-many beers to be acceptable for this place. Either way, we sit down and prepare to eat some GREAT food. I get a 4 course meal and it is just amazing. My first course is smoked salmon which is cooking until the second I take the cover off, and dessert was a little strawberry compote that comes with a tube of sugar-frosting that looks like toothpaste that you can squeeze out yourself and regulate how much you put on. It really was just incredible, one of the most unique meals I have ever had. The reviews about it said “it was not just a meal, but an experience”. Boy do I agree! The guys were also very happy that I took them there, if they hadn’t met me they wouldn’t have gone there, they said. One of the guys said it was probably one of the best meals he had ever had.
That night, I got home late and a bit drunk and had an early flight so I decided not to sleep. This made me exhausted – while packing up I actually sat down for a second and passed out for 2 hours on my computer. I woke up just in time for my taxi call and got the taxi to the airport. I had trouble with the flight, though. I had bought this other sketchy little kid’s backpack for a REASON and that didn’t matter, apparently, to fly from Lithuania to Slovakia. Man, I really HATE European airline regulations on weight. I was over by, once again, 10 kilos and was going to have to pay a really hefty fine. Instead, I kinda stood there to see if there was anything the attendant could do, and she kindly cut it in half for me. Geez, can’t she understand that a girl traveling for 6 weeks around the world has a very difficult time toting around only 20 kilos?
I landed to Bratislava and promptly went to bed (this was early; like 10 am early!)
When I got back from the tour, I spent the rest of my time walking around the Old Town and taking pictures. Overall, it was a very relaxing, wonderful day enjoying the city. This is why I survey!
I went to a couple great restaurants while I was here. One of them was La Provence. It is a French restaurant. There were all sorts of business people there while I was eating, so I tried to play mysterious and tried to pretend I was super-important amongst all the businessmen speaking English. But, I probably didn’t do very well.
On the last night, I had finished my survey and sat down to have a beer. I STUDIED the restaurant guide like only I can and decided that even though a little pricey, I really wanted to try a particular restaurant which was highly recommended. While sitting and having a beer (pre-restaurant departure), I met a couple of Finnish guys who were there on a bachelor party (one out of the two of them were getting married very soon!) Actually, the one getting married was a bit creepy, while the other one was really cool. The one about to get married mentioned to me that he was in an “open” relationship – (he clearly had other intentions for me), and this sketched me out a little bit. But, I mention that I was just about to leave to go for dinner (and was having good conversation with them at the time), so they asked if they would be able to join me, and I obliged. (What else do you say to that question anyways?) We arrive at the restaurant and immediately I feel like I don’t belong. I am in better shape (dress-wise) than the other two guys, but even still – they may have had one-too-many beers to be acceptable for this place. Either way, we sit down and prepare to eat some GREAT food. I get a 4 course meal and it is just amazing. My first course is smoked salmon which is cooking until the second I take the cover off, and dessert was a little strawberry compote that comes with a tube of sugar-frosting that looks like toothpaste that you can squeeze out yourself and regulate how much you put on. It really was just incredible, one of the most unique meals I have ever had. The reviews about it said “it was not just a meal, but an experience”. Boy do I agree! The guys were also very happy that I took them there, if they hadn’t met me they wouldn’t have gone there, they said. One of the guys said it was probably one of the best meals he had ever had.
That night, I got home late and a bit drunk and had an early flight so I decided not to sleep. This made me exhausted – while packing up I actually sat down for a second and passed out for 2 hours on my computer. I woke up just in time for my taxi call and got the taxi to the airport. I had trouble with the flight, though. I had bought this other sketchy little kid’s backpack for a REASON and that didn’t matter, apparently, to fly from Lithuania to Slovakia. Man, I really HATE European airline regulations on weight. I was over by, once again, 10 kilos and was going to have to pay a really hefty fine. Instead, I kinda stood there to see if there was anything the attendant could do, and she kindly cut it in half for me. Geez, can’t she understand that a girl traveling for 6 weeks around the world has a very difficult time toting around only 20 kilos?
I landed to Bratislava and promptly went to bed (this was early; like 10 am early!)
Spark plugs... um, for a car?
This morning, I got up and went for a run. Woohoo!! There is a very lovely HUGE park located directly next to the hotel and I spent an hour or so a few times during my stay here getting lost in the mazes of the forests and off-beaten paths. I never was a runner (and I can’t say that I ran the whole time)… but I did start to understand the pleasure of running – it does make you feel liberated. While running, it crossed my mind that 3 weeks ago I was doing this along the Mediterranean shore of Israel, and now I am in the forests of Lithuania. How cool is that??? Life can be good, in this job, sometimes :)
Today a cab stopped for me and I didn’t even have my hand raised. Amazing. Eventually, I found one that I ended up using a lot. Really nice guy and reliable too, but unfortunately does not speak much English which doesn’t help. Also, he frequently did the Lithuanian “talk to my friend on the cell phone who speaks english” bit so that he could understand me better. I had used the regular hotel taxi a couple times (there is only one guy who works directly for the hotel) but I didn’t really like him too much. He was not personable, got lost once, dropped me off at the wrong place another time, and didn’t leave once (from the parking lot) because he was talking on the phone. Grr… frustrating.
I went to a car shop to look for spark plugs. The man that I spoke with couldn’t understand what I was asking for, so he puts me on the phone with a girl who does (which is the same thing that everyone does! I don’t speak English but I’ll call a friend who does). I tell her I am there looking for a spark plug, which I’m pretty sure she probably never learned the translation for spark plug. I repeat the question and she say well, we do sell those but not at that shop; we sell them at another shop that we have – an erotic shop. I am speechless for a second and feeling awkard, and then I say “…. For a car?” and she says no, not for a car. She thinks I am at a car shop surrounded by men looking for a BUTT PLUG!!! Well, I think anyways. I crack up and she does too and I give the phone back to the man. Meanwhile, they figured out what it was I was looking for but the girl told the story to the man and he told the whole rest of the shop in my presence. Still laughing, I quickly said thank you and left the office as soon as I could!
Survey life is SO much better with no permission issues!! I decided to invest some time into traveling to the head office to see if I could get permission. I made it there at the right time and spoke with the marketing director who was super nice and I was able to get permission in about 20 minutes. Amazing! Then, I decided to get right into the survey. I went to the store and NO ONE said a WORD to me. I wanted so badly to throw the permission letter in their faces and say “what about this, b*****s! I tried extra-hard to be noticed and asked to stop but no dice.
But then, later…. I have basically finished the whole grocery-store part of my survey. I am golden. I go back in to get one or two more prices I have missed, and someone actually dares to tell me that I cannot take prices. WHAT??? Oh she did. She messed with me. But I reach in to pull out the letter and, IT’S NOT THERE. I left it in the hotel room this morning! I COMPLETELY blew my chance! I am so disappointed in myself. But worse, I needed to prove to this lady that I actually did have permission. Luckily, I still had the ladies’ card in my pocket and this got me by with no problem.
Here in Lithuania, I don’t stop hearing surprised expressions when I tell people I am from the US. I keep getting “that’s so far away!” from just about everyone. It’s quite amusing, I think.
Today a cab stopped for me and I didn’t even have my hand raised. Amazing. Eventually, I found one that I ended up using a lot. Really nice guy and reliable too, but unfortunately does not speak much English which doesn’t help. Also, he frequently did the Lithuanian “talk to my friend on the cell phone who speaks english” bit so that he could understand me better. I had used the regular hotel taxi a couple times (there is only one guy who works directly for the hotel) but I didn’t really like him too much. He was not personable, got lost once, dropped me off at the wrong place another time, and didn’t leave once (from the parking lot) because he was talking on the phone. Grr… frustrating.
I went to a car shop to look for spark plugs. The man that I spoke with couldn’t understand what I was asking for, so he puts me on the phone with a girl who does (which is the same thing that everyone does! I don’t speak English but I’ll call a friend who does). I tell her I am there looking for a spark plug, which I’m pretty sure she probably never learned the translation for spark plug. I repeat the question and she say well, we do sell those but not at that shop; we sell them at another shop that we have – an erotic shop. I am speechless for a second and feeling awkard, and then I say “…. For a car?” and she says no, not for a car. She thinks I am at a car shop surrounded by men looking for a BUTT PLUG!!! Well, I think anyways. I crack up and she does too and I give the phone back to the man. Meanwhile, they figured out what it was I was looking for but the girl told the story to the man and he told the whole rest of the shop in my presence. Still laughing, I quickly said thank you and left the office as soon as I could!
Survey life is SO much better with no permission issues!! I decided to invest some time into traveling to the head office to see if I could get permission. I made it there at the right time and spoke with the marketing director who was super nice and I was able to get permission in about 20 minutes. Amazing! Then, I decided to get right into the survey. I went to the store and NO ONE said a WORD to me. I wanted so badly to throw the permission letter in their faces and say “what about this, b*****s! I tried extra-hard to be noticed and asked to stop but no dice.
But then, later…. I have basically finished the whole grocery-store part of my survey. I am golden. I go back in to get one or two more prices I have missed, and someone actually dares to tell me that I cannot take prices. WHAT??? Oh she did. She messed with me. But I reach in to pull out the letter and, IT’S NOT THERE. I left it in the hotel room this morning! I COMPLETELY blew my chance! I am so disappointed in myself. But worse, I needed to prove to this lady that I actually did have permission. Luckily, I still had the ladies’ card in my pocket and this got me by with no problem.
Here in Lithuania, I don’t stop hearing surprised expressions when I tell people I am from the US. I keep getting “that’s so far away!” from just about everyone. It’s quite amusing, I think.
Sex-scandals straight out of a 5* hotel
I got to my nice hotel in Vilnius – Crowne Plaza, 5*. It was a nice hotel, but I would soon find out that it was a bit of a ride into the city, unfortunately. The next day I already had a realtor appointment, and on my way there I had to stop in a rush for a bottle of wine. When I get back in the car, my driver pulls out a bottle of tequila and says in English “company party!” Hahahahahaha this made me crack up. I really DON’T want to know why he had that open bottle of tequila in his taxi car! Lithuanians are such lushes (no offense…. )
Later that day I told the front desk I was hoping to hire someone to make some phone calls for me for cash, and he very willingly obliged. He said that it would be better to do it out of the hotel for all intensive purposes but I needed the internet. So he said OK, and came in on his day off. I walked in the door from the realtor appointment and saw him talking to co-workers. He mouthed to me that he would be right up and I was thinking hmm… I wonder how sketchy that looks!!! I went up and he followed.
Speaking of sketchy, Eastern Europe must be the capital of sex-scandal. From all the porn in the Croatia hotel, to what I experienced in Vilnius, I was surprised.
I was doing work late at night in the café’ area, (which had closed down already for the night), when an older, pompous man checked in and was speaking english. I overheard the front desk tell him where to go for a strip club. About 45 minutes later, he came in with a lady scantily clad and a man, and they all walked over to the corner of the café, past where I was sitting. I couldn’t hear really well. The lady got up and went somewhere and the two men were talking for a while. All I heard was, “I am going to leave you now” and the second man got up and left, I will even suggest he was a pimp, and then shortly after the pompous man left the café. To go tend to the scantily clad girl? That was my thought. Soon after, a group of young men walked in and expressed to the front desk that their night could have been better. “How so?” Asked the front desk, and “how can we make it better?” I was thinking, what, do they promote this stuff or something? A few phone calls were made here and there and I heard “2:00 am”. I waited for it. Sure enough, at 2 am an attractive woman in high heels with a guard not far behind walked in the front door, and appeared to go upstairs. This was a 5* hotel I was in, not some 1 hour motel! I wanted to shake all those men and say, “what would your Mom think of you right now?” What an interesting, sketchy night this turned to be.
Later that day I told the front desk I was hoping to hire someone to make some phone calls for me for cash, and he very willingly obliged. He said that it would be better to do it out of the hotel for all intensive purposes but I needed the internet. So he said OK, and came in on his day off. I walked in the door from the realtor appointment and saw him talking to co-workers. He mouthed to me that he would be right up and I was thinking hmm… I wonder how sketchy that looks!!! I went up and he followed.
Speaking of sketchy, Eastern Europe must be the capital of sex-scandal. From all the porn in the Croatia hotel, to what I experienced in Vilnius, I was surprised.
I was doing work late at night in the café’ area, (which had closed down already for the night), when an older, pompous man checked in and was speaking english. I overheard the front desk tell him where to go for a strip club. About 45 minutes later, he came in with a lady scantily clad and a man, and they all walked over to the corner of the café, past where I was sitting. I couldn’t hear really well. The lady got up and went somewhere and the two men were talking for a while. All I heard was, “I am going to leave you now” and the second man got up and left, I will even suggest he was a pimp, and then shortly after the pompous man left the café. To go tend to the scantily clad girl? That was my thought. Soon after, a group of young men walked in and expressed to the front desk that their night could have been better. “How so?” Asked the front desk, and “how can we make it better?” I was thinking, what, do they promote this stuff or something? A few phone calls were made here and there and I heard “2:00 am”. I waited for it. Sure enough, at 2 am an attractive woman in high heels with a guard not far behind walked in the front door, and appeared to go upstairs. This was a 5* hotel I was in, not some 1 hour motel! I wanted to shake all those men and say, “what would your Mom think of you right now?” What an interesting, sketchy night this turned to be.
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