America can wait

Well, I didn’t make it to America. My four weeks off from class were blissful, but I had a nagging cold for three of those four weeks. It wasn’t omicron, just a good old-fashioned cold, which sucked enough for me to decided to cancel (or postpone, we’ll see) my R&R. I had something planned in DC and that got pushed back indefinitely and the only other thing was to drive to see family across multiple states, which didn’t seem like the brightest of ideas during a hot wave of COVID, even if that particular wave seems to be more like a bad cold or the flu than anything else.

Either way, I canceled my seat on the charter flight a couple days before and tried to mentally prepare to start the last class. As it’s turned out, I’m glad I opted to stay because during the time I would have been traveling, I wound up having two mandatory calls with the professor. Now I am two weeks in just hate it so much.

What is it with academia that in no way mirrors the real world? We are supposed to do some kind of paper (25 pages, and it’s only worth half the grade) on exploring some problem for change, or something like that, and recommending what to do. This is completely at odds at what I do, which I am good at: fixing problems. Not recommending things, just doing it.

I’ve got a “change” in mind, but the professor keeps saying that it has to be something that affects us, that we have the power to change, etc. Um, I have no power and I work for the federal government. If there was some kind of change I really could propose to someone who’d hear me out and that person could champion it, it would still be eight years before anything happened.

Immediate results? I get this degree and take a long hot bath. That’s my goal. It’s not academic, but neither am I. I’m a practical person who works in the real world.

In my class, I’m not the only one. Several of us were on a call with the professor yesterday and one, who’s struggling like I and other are, mentioned something about being tied to a particular expertise she’s developed over a 17-year career with the same federal agency. The teacher said, “Why don’t you just quit?”

All of us on the call, I think, were too flabbergasted to respond, but the professor pushed on, telling this 55-year-old professional, who’s a wife, a mom and a grandmother, that she should just quit and go to work “in academia; there are lots of jobs in HR.” Um … she doesn’t want to start a brand-new career at $17 an hour, even if there were “lots” of options in her particular geographic area. She’s happy where she is; she just wants to expand a bit.

The professor’s comments shocked me and others and it reinforced how out of touch she is with the real world. I felt so bad for the adult student; it was just such an inappropriate comment to make and no one, including her, could formulate a response as the professor went on and on about how, if this student wanted a job in HR, she didn’t just walk away from her 17-year career and into the unknown. It wasn’t like “put down your nets and follow me,” but just going on about how easy HR jobs were to find, which is not true if you have zero experience in it – especially when you’re trying to move to a new employer.

Gosh, it was just weird.

The class is only eight weeks long and will one day be over, but until it is, the name of the game is misery. I really don’t understand what it is I’m supposed to do, despite three conversations with the professor and several other email exchanges. Once I get a grasp on it, I have to crank it out. The draft is due in the seventh week, which is just over a month away. As much as I want to get to the finish line, I’m really not making a lot of progress.

My days now consist of an hour in the morning in the gym or something, then breakfast and then work. After work, I come home and slave over it, except I haven’t made it to the paper at night. There’s still a class in addition to this behemoth, and the weekly papers and discussions account for 50 percent of the final grade. Which, BTW, I don’t care about. I’ve already emailed my advisor to ask what the lowest passing grade is for a class, but I haven’t gotten a response yet. Although I’d like a decent grade, my sanity may not be worth the tradeoff. I just want it done.

The discussions themselves wear me out because I just don’t really understand what I’m supposed to be doing. The last one was what my takeaways were and I noticed most people basically summarized the material, whereas I selected a couple of, well, takeaways.

That’s the practical realist in me; I just don’t have a grasp on the fantasy world of academia.  

Baghdad ranks a 9 out of 10

Baghdad is a bit different than the last time I was here; the numbers have been cut and COVID lingered for awhile, pulling people off the streets and shuttering the social things like exercise class. One of my favorite things before was sitting with random people in the cafeteria, but now people social distance so there’s none of that.

Still, it’s really good to be back and earning the big money again, although with the social stuff only starting to come back, it can set up some boring evenings. Fortunately (or not), I’ve had a heavy workload, working 9-10 hours days for the first couple of months.

Plus, there’s been this side hustle of working on a second masters degree, this time in HR. My goal for this is to be able to check a box that says “I have an degree in HR,” and a masters seemed like a quicker route.

I started last March, I think it was, in a program out of Champlain College (Vermont) that offers discounted federal rates. At the time, I knew Baghdad was in the pipeline so I opted to take out a student loan; I will then qualify for the student loan repayment program.

The program is a total of 10 classes and required me to pick a certificate in addition to HR. I can’t remember what the other options were, but I went with leadership because the others sounded like they’d be unrelated to the Department of State. Well, as it turns out, “leadership” was “shared leadership,” and DoS is about the most hierarchical organization on the planet. The classes have been entirely unrelatable, to the point of, in one discussion (a post I had to do once a week) I responded to the question of “how does shared leadership fit in your organization” by quoting Luke Skywalker. He once said something like, “If there’s a bright spot in the universe, you’re on the planet that it’s farthest from.” I said that was as far as my organization was from embracing shared leadership.

Still, with only four classes in the certificate program (which is guess is a minor for your masters), I stuck with it, somehow landing As even though I didn’t “get” the material. I mean, I understand it theoretically but I don’t see it playing out.

Anyway, this last class about killed me. I’m so glad it’s over.

For the first 8 weeks of the entire program – that’s how long the classes take – I took one class. This was when I was in Minsk, and I figured I could manage two classes at a time. I tried it and did fine – got two As – and realized for the next two 8-week terms I’d be in America for part of the time, so I doubled up again and again. That left two more classes prior to the “capstone,” which is supposed to be the last one. I looked at the calendar and realized that even though I’d be in Baghdad (and therefore have a brutal workload), I would not take and R&R until January, which meant that I’d have nothing to do outside work. So I doubled up again, which was horrific but with only eight weeks, there’s no turning back.

And now, I’ve done 9 out of 10, with the capstone project (whatever the heck that is) the only thing left. When I signed on to Baghdad, I hoped to do some big and fun R&Rs, but since that last eight weeks starts the same day the charter flight to DC departs, I figured I’d just go to America for my first R&R. It’s boring, but I couldn’t risk having crappy internet for the first three weeks of the class.

So bring on America and bring on the last class. I’m 90 percent done and can see the finish line

Still here. Or there.

Yeah, it’s been awhile. Since I was here last, I departed Vilnius, went to both Chattanooga and Nashville on home leave, flew to DC and then departed for Baghdad, where I’m about to enter my third week. In addition to trying to get through two course towards a second masters degree.

That’s about to kill me. The classes start out interesting, but quickly become not relevant to my workplace. Shared leadership? Yeah, uh … no. The other class, about diversity and inclusion has potential but it’s frustrating because the papers are geared around “what can you do through your leadership position?” and “what is the organization doing now?” Well, I’m on the bottom of the totem pole and not in a leadership position, and have almost zero insight to what my overall organization is doing; only small bits of it are visible.

Just a good ole boy at the Grand Ole Opry

The 8-week term ends on October 22. The way the courses are scheduled is that there are two due dates, on Wednesday and Sunday. Every Sunday, I am a little more relieved to be 1/8 of the way closer to the finish line. When I hit October 22, I’ll be 70 percent of the way through the program but will only have about 36 hours off. The new material for the upcoming classes is posted on Sundays.

This particular 8-week term is especially rough, not because of the material but that there are group projects. My group is fine, but I’m seven hours ahead, and none of them can meet until after 5 p.m.

In essence, it sucks to be me right now, but one day, hopefully in mid-March, I will be able to check a box and look back on the last 11 months like a blip. And since I am back in Baghdad, I should be able to get tuition somewhat reimbursed. I just need to get there.

Tennessee was pretty cool both times. I took Z to a softball tournament one weekend and then 10 days later turned around and drove up to Nashville with a friend to meet another friend and go to the USA-Canada World Cup qualifier. It was my first professional soccer game and ended in a draw.

Although I love Nashville, I’d never stayed downtown and oh my, what an experience. I had no idea it was basically bachelorette party central. There’s a two-block area that is as packed as the Strip in Vegas, only 7 out of every 10 people are falling down drunk.

But I’m not saying it wasn’t fun. Being a fairly sober trio gave us a leg up on the loud, obnoxious drunks. Waitstaff, as stretched as they were, were falling down to accommodate us. We stayed right downtown – I’m racking up Marriott points – and just had a great time walking around.

Went to the old church as well - Ryman

Although Bluebird tickets evaded us, we made it to the Grand Ole Opry and wow, what an amazing show. I’d done the tour before but seeing a show was a whole new level. Of all the acts, I’d only heard of John Schneider – Bo Duke to me – but all were enjoyable. They did have a guy who had recent song I’d heard of (Morgan Somebody), but other than that, everyone was new to me. Well, except for the last group, Riders in the Sky, whom I’d never heard of but who recorded “Woody’s Roundup” for Toy Story. They’d been Opry members for 40 years and absolutely knew how to put on a show. They did “Rawhide,” too, and ended with “Happy Trails,” which is how it was supposed to be. I think I paid $80 each for the tickets, and I thought it was worth every penny.

Other than those two trips, home leave was short; I only had 20 working days Since I’d originally planned on going to a concert in London on September 18 and it was canceled, I just moved up my arrival date to Baghdad.

To get there, I flew to DC exactly 30 days after I flew from Vilnius to Tallahassee, so there really wasn’t a lot of recuperation time. I’ll have another one in a year – the Baghdad tour is 12 months – and by then the classes should be done, so hopefully it will be a better trip.

I started this program in March and it’s just been pedal-to-floor and will continue until it’s over. I should get two weeks off at Christmas, though.

For now, it’s just exhausting because I’m doing them and acclimating to a new position, and that’s so far required 10-hour days and additional work on weekends. I don’t know how long it will last, but I’ve basically announced that I am hibernating in my Baghdad apartment until I get to December. I’d doubled up on the classes because I thought, first, that I’d be in America for stretches of time during two terms, but secondly, because I won’t get an R&R from Baghdad until January. Really, it’s a fairly productive thing to do while trapped in the 100 Acre Sandbox. But man, getting through it is a bear.

Jazzing up the last weekend

Moron that I am, when the embassy asked for a volunteer to “deliver remarks” at a jazz festival in a port city three hours away on my last Saturday in Vilnius, I offered. Somehow my mind skipped over the whole “you will speak in front of hundreds of people” to “free trip to Klaipeda, with music.” I skipped the lede for sure. But I did it, introducing (more or less) Karl Frierson, an American jazz musician based in Germany. (He’d served in the Army, was stationed there and “never left,” he told me.)

It wasn’t the first time I delivered remarks on behalf of the ambassador to Lithuania, but it was the first time I intended to. The previous time, a couple weeks ago, I had thought I was “representing the embassy,” not delivering remarks. When I discovered that I was, I was terrified but got through it.

That one was a much smaller, but more significant: it was a Holocaust memorial. I’m right where the Holocaust happened, and it’s been made more real to me this tour. Belarusians, Lithuanians, Poles – these were people who were slaughtered. In Lithuania, other Lithuanians collaborated with the Nazis to do so, which is why events to remember the victims are so important here. (They hated the Soviets, so they sided with the Nazis.)

Those remarks were pretty scary to deliver, but there weren’t near as many people, like 50-75. I was nervous, but not terrified. The jazz event, while not as solemn or crucial to bilateral relations, would be hundreds of people, some of whom spoke English! (There was a translator at the Holocaust event.)

But I made a day of it, traveling with a colleague. It has been raining here for awhile, so a day in the sun was out because the sun wasn’t but we did go up to Palanga again and walked the beach in a drizzle. Just as we were coming off of it, the skies opened so we ducked into a restaurant for some good Lithuanian food and then headed down the half hour in the motor pool Ford.

We got to Klaipeda a bit earlier and had intended to wander around the riverfront, but we wanted to make sure we knew where to go, which took awhile. Somehow we managed to take a really long way around and didn’t want to risk being late if we took off again, so we just hung out there, assuming wrongly that it was going to start when we’d been told.

It didn’t, so we could have gone back about town, but it was fine. It was a festival, so there was stuff to see. Heck, I could have even lined up for a Johnson and Johnson shot and had a COVID test with rapid results right then and there. But I declined; I’d still to have one tomorrow.

The first act, who was of Asian descent but had been born and raised in Klaipeda, was pretty awesome, although I would not have classified her as jazz. Of course, “jazz” is fairly loosely defined, and the music poster depicted a guy in a cowboy hat riding a saxophone like a bull, so go figure. But this singer – I forget her first name but her last name was Liu – was not remotely country, although she physically and vocally reminded me of Lari White. She was more new age-y, but I liked it.

And focusing on her music gave me something to ponder rather than, “How did I get in here?” which I kept repeating all night. I mean, what had I been thinking?

The shows, we thought, were an hour, meaning I’d go on at 7, but it wasn’t until after 7:20 that someone came to tell me they’d get me later. I think she was supposed to end at 7:30 or something, but she wound up finishing close to 8.

None of that mattered for the crowd, though, because they were having a good time. I, on the other hand, was getting more and more nervous and also starting to wonder if I’d be able to make the 3-hour drive home that same evening.

The people at an embassy who speak are not normally the people who write the words, so it wasn’t like I was supposed to wing it or anything, but I’d practiced and practiced the “remarks” and they still sounded jilted. (Seriously, who starts with “Dear listeners!” So, by the time I actually did it, I kind of went off-script, but it was basically the same thing.

Still, I was terrified, and shaking like a leaf. I got through it and stepped off. And the funny thing was, Karl Frierson, wasn’t even there yet, I don’t think. It’s not like I announced him and he appeared in a cloud of smoke or anything.

He did come in, and I found him right away (it wasn’t crowded backstage) and said hi. He’s originally from South Carolina and I’m a Florida girl so we chatted a bit, and then I headed back to my table and colleague.

Unfortunately, because he went on much later than we thought he would, we could only stay for one of his songs, but I really enjoyed his voice. And it was much more fun after stood up in front of all those people.

I am gladed to have faced that fear, but I am not anxious to do it again.

Auschwitz, with a grain of salt

I finally got a “vacation” this past week, darting off to Poland from Saturday until Thursday. I had to be back before Friday or I would have lost my hotel room for the weekend.

Flying in the time of COVID stinks. Going there was really not a problem; I bummed a ride from a colleague also heading out and no one even bothered to look at my vaccine card. Coming back, though, it was nuts. I thought since it was EU to EU there was nothing involved (I mean, hey, the way there was EU-EU, too) but I had to log on to some site in the airport and get a QVC code and then when I went to check in with the airline staff (none of whom were wearing masks), one asked why I’d done it. I pointed to another one and said, “He told me to.” I have no idea. Boarding the plane, they were looking at everyone’s QVC code, but not mine – I just got shooed onto the plane back to Lithuania. Getting off, though, they looked at multiple things from everyone. As if something had changed from boarding to deplaning.

Anyway, I spent two days in Warsaw and then took a train to Krakow, spending two days there before heading back for the last night in Warsaw before heading back. I should have thought to just fly back from Krakow, but I think I would have had to go through Warsaw anyway, so whatever.

The highlight – or lowlight, however you want to view it – was Tuesday, when I did a package Auschwitz-salt mine tour.

As you can imagine, Auschwitz was gut-wrenching. We visited both I and II, standing right on the sites where thousands of Jews were murdered at once multiple times a day. We saw the warehouses that had been found filled with sorted goods, such as one for luggage, one for eyeglasses and one for shoes. Over 300,000 pairs of shoes had been found at the time of the liberation. That’s not how many there were total; that’s how many were found. The Nazis had offloaded stuff as it came in, even – and I did not know this – using the hair they shaved from the Jews for weaving into textiles. There was an entire storage display of human hair. It was absolutely horrifying.

It’s hard to imagine that kind of hate, but there it was; brick building after brick building, each one built for 700 Jewish (or Roma) women or men, but holding over 1k of them, six to a bunk. We saw the spot where the Germans would shoot any misbehaving prisoners. I just can’t comprehend it. Over a million people killed in that facility, right on the edge of town.

We walked for about three hours, and it was pretty hot. All I could think of was that the Jew were forced to walk that far to the factory before they worked 10- to 12-hour days. And as hot as it was, it gets that cold in the winter, and darkness comes early. I honestly cannot imagine. The guide said the fences were electrified and that people would commit suicide by throwing themselves on them.

Since I knew I wouldn’t have been able to handle both Auschwitz and Schindler’s factory in one day – just too much – I opted for the tour that went to the Wieliczka salt mine, which is just outside of Krakow. I took as many pictures as I did in Auschwitz, but it was a bit cheerier. First, we descended 60 meters or something like that down; it was 53 flights of 6-7 steps each. I was towards the last in my group and was humming “Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to work we go” the whole time – I have no idea how I managed without bursting into song, because the whole experience screamed for it.

The mine was incredible. Honest to God, I had no idea the “salt mines” in “off to the salt mines” were a real thing.  I thought salt came from the ocean, not underground. By the end of the tour, we had walked three hours, finished over 130 meters underground and the tour guide said we’d only covered 1 percent of the whole thing. The thing was huge. For the tourist part, they had set up displays that included statues and such, all made of salt. The flooring in many parts was made of salt blocks. There were even multiple cathedrals underground, with everything carved out of salt, including a replica of “The Last Supper” and a life-size statue of Poland’s favorite son, Pope John Paul II.

It was a nice way to end the day; I knew the morning would be emotional but had no idea what the salt mines were all about. I went in with no expectations and it was a pleasant surprise. Even lunch was pretty good.

I stayed in AirBnBs the first four nights, two in Warsaw and two in Krakow and it was fabulous having a kitchen again. Unfortunately, rice apparently isn’t a thing; that’s what I wanted to cook but the grocery store I went to (a tiny one) didn’t have any, so I opted for pasta and a salad. It was just nice to be able to turn on a stove.

My housing was in Old Town in both cities, but Old Town in Warsaw is really a Disney-eque version, because all of Warsaw was leveled and has been rebuilt. But it’s been done nicely and I had a great stay, walking around everywhere. I got a bus pass for 24 hours but someone still surpassed 30k steps; I’m not even sure how that happened.

The only museum I went into was the Polish museum; it went back to Abraham, so that was pretty cool. I went to the Uprising museum but the guides said it was best for hard-core history buffs so I skipped it. Mostly I just walked and took pictures, which is what I usually do.

Krakow was more authentic old town, and again, my housing was right there. The windows were open and I could hear the horse-drawn carriages clomp-clomping down the street. It was a nice break.

The trains were fine other than setting off in the wrong direction and turning a 15-minute walk to a hotel into a 30-minute walk, everything was good upon return to Warsaw. Since I’ve now reached some kind of ultra-special level at Marriott, I sprung for the Westin for the last night, although, unlike in Vilnius, I declined to get the rate with breakfast. It was a good decision. With my newfound specialness, I was welcomed with open arms and informed that I now get breakfast, so that was nice. Even nicer was a coupon for a dinner in the restaurant downstairs, an upgraded room and a massive bowl of fruit upon arrival. We are talking banana, grapes, strawberries, blueberries, cherries, pomegranate, fig, apple, orange, grapefruit, kiwi and a plum, assuming I am remembering them all. I gorged and then took a walk.

The dinner menu was limited but perfect: I could pick two items off an abbreviated menu. I opted for “chicken with seasonal vegetables” and a “tart with fruit.” Well, again, it was a farmer’s market. The chicken itself maybe half a breast and seasoned nicely, sitting on a small bed of mashed potatoes. The veggies mirrored the fruit basket: so many varieties, but just a couple bites of each: one asparagus stick, maybe 3-4 strings of beans, some kind of carrot and zucchini cut into a cylinder, broccoli, cauliflower … possibly more. It was so much. Then dessert, I could not locate a tart, but again was hit with a massive fruit pile, but this time it included watermelon, pineapple and at least three other melon kinds, plus other stuff. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much non-meat in one 24-hour span than I have in my life. But eat it I did. It took forever, but I sat in that hotel bar and paced myself. By the end of the evening, the only things out of all three services that I didn’t eat were the apple, orange and banana. Since they packed well, I took them back with me.

Once home, I still have my Marriott status, and the kind folks at the Courtyard moved the bag they stored for me into my new room, which they deemed an upgrade. I kind of had to laugh at that because, well, it’s a Courtyard. There’s really not an upgrade. The room is five doors down from the other one and its mirror image. However, they did leave me a piece of pie, four cherries with whipped cream and some other kind of berry. I could get used to this.

Crossing against the light

It’s been about a month since I’ve been displaced to Vilnius, and I’ve done what I can to see this country in this short time. The last two or so weeks, I’ve had the use of someone’s car and I’ve made the most of it.

Gas here is really expensive and the borrowed car is an SUV, so my little excursion over the weekend cost close to $200 in gas, but I took off a day (my first full 8-hour day off since the Antarctica cruise in January 2020) and headed to the coast. The Baltic coast, that is. There’s a resort city (by Lithuanian standards there called Palanga and I hung out in the beach town for a couple of days. It was just me, or, rather, me and my laundry. I got an AirBnB and made sure to reserve a spot with a washer.

I enjoyed the pier way too much.

The beach was nice – tan coarse sand but no shells. There was a long L-shaped pier that I photographed at multiple angles several times a day. The water wasn’t too cold, but as many times as I walked up and down, I only dipped once. Mostly I just made the 6000-step walk from my room to the beach, then down to the pier and back through the park. I was really a nice weekend.

And quite toasty. I forgot I’m in Europe, where air conditioners are not a thing. And, while I know the Western U.S. is cooking and this doesn’t compare, it’s pretty hot for Europe, too. It’s hit over 90, which is pretty rare. It follows a record-setting bitterly cold winter, so I guess it’s an el Nino thing.

All in all, the trip was nice. I had intended to go down a spit to see a lighthouse that’s right near that part of Russia that’s in the Baltics, but after taking the ferry over and starting the drive, I realized that it’s inside the national park, not just outside of it like I had thought. It cost way too much to get into the park, as it was a per vehicle charge. Had I gone with a group – or even another person – it would have maybe been worth it, but as it was, I decided to save four hours of driving, the entrance fee and a third take of gas and just started wandering back a little earlier on Sunday.

Two weekends ago, I did a one-day trip with a colleague to a city called Druskininski, which has a really nice nature park that is smattered with old Soviet statues. I’d read about some of these parks before; when the Soviet Union fell, the statues came down and for whatever reason, they have been installed in parks. When I heard about it, I pictured sort of a graveyard of statues in varying phases of deterioration lying haphazardly in piles. That was not the case at all. The park was set up as a nice walk, with the statues lining the path, along with descriptors for each, saying who the person was (not all were Lenin), where the statue had been, and a couple of other facts about the situation.

Sunset in Palanga, 10:08 p.m.

The Soviets sure spent on propaganda. In reading the detail, most of the statues were from the area. It wasn’t like stuff was hauled in from the FSU – that’s Former Soviet Union in this case. Nope, by and large, it was all local. Presumably, there are parks across the map with these parks, which is kind of eerie.

So that place, randomly selected off a map, was pretty cool, too. It’s been nice to have a car for this short amount of time, but I’m ready to give it back now. I may try to do another short road trip before I leave, but if I do, I’ll rent a fuel-efficient one.

All told, though, it only takes about four hours to drive across Lithuania. I didn’t start from the Belarus border, but Vilnius is only about 20-30 minutes from it, so driving from here to Palanga is basically driving the length of the country. Try doing that in America in one weekend. Perhaps The Bandit could rival it, but I also drove back in the same weekend!

Next week, I am taking four days off and heading on another trip, but it worked out that it would be better to fly, even if I am only going to Poland. Strange, I know, because Warsaw is only five hours away, but that’s the plan. I’ve got AirBnBs (with washers) reserved, train tickets bought and an Auschwitz tour booked.

Druskininski Soviet park

Honestly, this Minsk tour might go down as the most depressing in history. Not only has the job itself not lived up to what it could have been, but the fraudulent election, protests and mass detentions and obscene number of political prisoners and the whole situation adds to it, too. And the fact that my “fun” trips from here have basically been Chernobyl (Ukraine), Chernobyl (Belarus) and now Auschwitz. That’s might sad.

But still, Vilnius is a nice city. In many ways, it’s similar to Minsk but in many, it’s not. The most notable of these is the prices, but another big difference – and one I am enjoying – is crossing streets. Yeah, that sounds weird, but in Belarus, people will stop, Rain Man-like, if the little red “Stop” sign tells them to. They are frozen in place and will not, under most any circumstance, walk until the green walkie light comes on. I’ve seen people – mostly young, but very few in general – muster up the gumption to cross while the red sign is up, and the tension among the other walkers is palatable. It’s just not done, even at 3 a.m. in a snowstorm. People will wait until they are signaled.

Not so much in Vilnius. Mostly, people wait, but if there is no traffic, they’ll cross. It honestly surprised me, but now I have regressed to being one of those rule breakers. Everyone who does it – and I see this on a daily basis here, whereas in Minsk, if I saw one every two months, it was memorable – looks both ways and will not step if there is traffic anywhere, but they will do it. I’m not sure if that’s progress or not, but I’m relieved to not feel guilty about it since I cross several large intersections on the 30-minute walk to the office.

Come fly with me

 It’s a four-day weekend for me and I had wonderful plans that crashed and burned. Fortunately, how it worked out, nothing crashed and burn.

Cemetery garden

Since I have access to a car for the next two weeks, I’d hoped to make a run for the Baltic Sea and go to a castle located on a split. The sea is only about 3-4 hours away, but you have to ferry to the split, so that adds a couple hours; it’s not a safe trip for one driver to up and back in a day, so I hoped to overnight somewhere.

Since Tuesday is a Lithuanian holiday as well, I guess it booked up fast because there was nothing available on or near the split, so I looked for nearby things. Found one, but in trying to book on Friday for Saturday night, it turned out to be a little late, I guess. By Saturday at 10 a.m., I hadn’t gotten confirmation so I called it off and looked to other plans.

Research these days is done on the internet, so I checked Viator with no intention of actually purchasing a trip but instead just getting an idea of what’s out there. Lithuania is not so big, but you have to head in the right direction.

There are a couple places that seemed really good and I opted for what someone on Viator called “The Troy of Lithuania.” No horses, just an archeological site about 30-40 minutes outside of Vilnius in Kernave (Ker-NAHV-ee, I think), which seemed doable in someone else’s car. It’s a much bigger car – full-sized SUV for a family of four – that normally are found around Vilnius, and just getting out of the parking garage proved a challenge.

I walked ALL over the site in Kernave

Other than getting utterly confused in trying to find the right freeway – roundabouts; question as to what was considered “the second exit” and not knowing which direction was north – I got there just find and found parking at a cemetery.

The cemetery itself was pretty awesome; the plots had been transformed into actual gardens with lovely flowers and plants. The landscaping was beautiful, even for the plots for the people who had been dead for generations. There were several people there tending gardens; I drove in following a group of three women who hauled out dirt, rakes and loads of begonias out of their car. They really take care of them.

After heading to the museum, I went to the site itself, which is a huge, huge area that once encompassed five forts on the top of five hills. There was also a flat area between the hills and a river that would have contained tribes of people; the land had been inhabited going back to the 13^th century. It was the capital of Lithuania at one time. It was quite interesting, but in the end, it was basically a lovely walk through a lot of grass and up and down a lot of stairs. I did ALL the stairs, up to each of the five forts sites and back down again. My calves are killing me today; my iPhone says I did a total of 39 flights of stairs yesterday.

But it was wonderful to get out of town and just wander. There weren’t many people there at all, and at one point – at the top of the last fort, which was a bit away from everyone else – I just plopped down and read some of my book.

As this is my only weekend in between classes, I could do it with a clean conscience and not feel I should be concentrating on something else; that was why doing something this weekend was so important to me. (Never mind that everyone else I know was out of town.)

Before I took off for Kernave, I also looked for hot air ballooning here. I know they have them because I see them outside my hotel window on a regular basis. I looked up some companies, sent and email and immediately got WhatsApp’d. I’d plugged in looking for Sunday but it turns out, it came out that they had an opening for Saturday night.

So last night, after walking 25k steps (the last hour to the balloon meeting spot), I got into a balloon for the third time in my life.

This one was smaller than the ones I’d taken in Cappadocia and Luxor, but it was glorious, at least after I relaxed. It was far more crowded; I think we had eight people in there; six Russian tourists, the pilot and the guide. Everyone spoke Russian, and I learned I know absolutely balloon-type terms in Russian, because I understood absolutely nothing. Even the abbreviated English-language safety instructions were vague, so I was glad I’d done it before so I kind of knew what was going on.

We sailed for about an hour, drifting over close to Trakai, the island castle where I’d gone last week. It also had been a capital of Lithuania. I had thought we’d fly over Old Town, but you’re sort of at the mercy of the wind so we were off in another direction. Since I’d been to the fort and the Hill of Three Crosses, I do feel like I’ve had a good view of Vilnius from high, anyway. We did pass over one absolutely majestic castle/church/something. I don’t know what it was, but it was right on a lake and beautiful.

In general, Lithuania is full of trees and lakes, which looks lovely from the air. I really don’t know what path we took, but there were lots of balloons this weekend, about 35. This pales in comparison to New Mexico’s 700 or so, but it on par with Cappadocia, which has 30-40 most mornings and evenings. Normally, Vilnius – the only European capital that has hot air ballooning over the city – has far less than that, like 10 or so.

It was a lot of fun. My photos don’t reflect the beauty of it; I was on the west side of the balloon and was shooting into the setting sun lots of the time. It really was gorgeous.

As we got closer to the ground, we could wave to the people there, many of whom were out watching the balloons go over. One little girl chased us, waving as she ran across her yard, clearly delighted. My mind flashed to the little girl Garland Greene (Steve Buscemi) had tea with on Con Air’s layover in that movie. Her dog was quite excited to see us, too. It must be the things to do in the evenings.

Since you’re sort of at the mercy of Mother Nature upon landing, too, we wound up coming down in someone’s back yard. There’s a chase car that finds a spot, asking permission of the owners before landing. We came down in the vicinity of another balloon, at the house of a couple who were swimming in their little baby lake.

Considering that the shaky plan I’d had for the weekend went kaput on Saturday morning, I think I made quite a recovery. Today, Sunday, I am planning on checking out an English-language church service and then walking to the ritzy mall and just poking around. I had hoped to catch another movie but the one that sounded palatable isn’t playing. Something with Liam Neeson is, but as much as I like him, his movies are better viewed on cable.

One of my colleagues returns tonight and we were considering a quick day trip tomorrow, but the destination is as of yet unknown.