I hate to keep ragging on racist Slovak politicians (not really). But in "honour" of Jan Slota, I post some more of his public statements for your viewing "enjoyment"/awe.
(about homosexuals): "I have no problem with them, if they will stay in shadow
and just make their disgusting sexual orgies."
"If the Slovak National Party is extremist, than Hungarians are radioactively
extremists, they radiate more than Chernobyl. The best solution would be
backfill them with beton."
"Slovaks are probably genetically stupid."
"Drug dealers must immediately be shot, [Deputy PM for Economy Ivan]
Mikloš immediately fired, Hungarians forbidden, Gypsies destroyed,
Americans spat on, and the 17 secret service agents sicked on Slota
recalled. Is that enough?"
You can find the quotes in their entirety, here. Read/shake your head at your own risk.
Showing posts with label SIC. Show all posts
Showing posts with label SIC. Show all posts
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
Only in Bratislava
In a few weeks time, Slovakia will host it's first Pride Parade. The mainstream media is celebrating this as a progressive step forward.
The mainstream media however, is at stark odds with some of the most prominent politician's in the country, whose views are boldly espoused here.
It's hard to imagine an elected official in Canada saying such things. It should remind us how far we've come and how there are people and places in the world that know oppression we couldn't fathom. Here are some "highlights" from the linked article:
"We'll show them here, on streets of Slovakia's capital, that they're an undesirable element here. I'll personally come to spit at them," announced Slota.
"It has nothing to do either with morals, Christian traditions or a society based on the family. I'm firmly convinced that it's sick," said Slota.
"... But I don't want my kids to look at those lunatics," added Slota."
The mainstream media however, is at stark odds with some of the most prominent politician's in the country, whose views are boldly espoused here.
It's hard to imagine an elected official in Canada saying such things. It should remind us how far we've come and how there are people and places in the world that know oppression we couldn't fathom. Here are some "highlights" from the linked article:
"We'll show them here, on streets of Slovakia's capital, that they're an undesirable element here. I'll personally come to spit at them," announced Slota.
"It has nothing to do either with morals, Christian traditions or a society based on the family. I'm firmly convinced that it's sick," said Slota.
"... But I don't want my kids to look at those lunatics," added Slota."
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Why I Hate the SIC
Ok ok, I don't actually hate the Social Issues Commission of your favourite organization. I just wanted your attention. I realize the importance and value these groups bring to the table, and I do not mean to undermine it whatsoever. But I think such said commissions are guilty of simplifying the issues at hand in their honourable crusades to eradicate "isms" everywhere, which unfortunately, ultimately negate from the goals they are trying to accomplish. I read a life changing book that I reference a lot "The Opposable Mind." In it, Roger Martin talks about how issues and situations are usually much more complex than we are willing to admit. We simplify things because it's easier to get our points across if we don't take all of the overwhelming details and complex interactions of these details into account. Sometimes we don't have the resources to thoroughly analyze the relationships between all of the factors at play, or sometimes we just want to be right, so we generalize, glossing over things that might be important. Unfortunately, this is destined to lead to sub-standard decision making.
Due to the complex nature of social issues I think this happens a lot in this particular arena.
In my experience, (my name comes up in paragraph 6...I also realize that now even the term "Sensitivity Training" is insensitive...) in working with Social Issues Commissions, they try, but generally fail to do much in the ways of educating people. At the end of anti-oppression training sessions, majority groups are left quivering in fear that they might accidentally step on toes; or worse, they feel as though they are being lectured and tune out. I've been out of the establishment for almost 8 months now and I sincerely hope things are changing for the better through the encouragement of dialogue and discussion by all parties. Though I maintain a healthy skepticism.
In my short time away from Kingston, I've come across some extremely overt and systemic acts of racism. The most prolific example is the engrained hate in Eastern Europe directed at the Roma people (colloquially referred to as Gypsies).
I was shocked when I heard my new Slovak friends talk about these people as second class citizens. They referenced their low standards of education, and their exploitation of children and child welfare laws. Coming from a left-leaning, uber-inclusive environment I was astounded at the blatant disregard for the rights of another group of people. The racism was overt and systemic and unlike anything I had been privy to. But rather than judge and condemn my new-compatriots, I tried to understand where they were coming from. After all, earlier in the week I had had a Roma man spit in my face when I refused to give him a cigarette (I don't smoke, so I didn't have cigarettes) and I had seen many children begging for money as their parents stood around the corner egging them on.
So I did a little research. In true Dr. House fashion, I figured that their must be a reason behind such behaviour. It wasn't until I saw a BBC Documentary, "The Lost World of Communism" that I began to understand. To continue with this Roma example, which hits particularly close to my new home, we must go back to Romania in the 1960s. Particularly, we must examine the reforms instituted by the man who I believe, is quite obviously one of the primary culprits, Nicolae Ceausescu. As the leader of Communist Romania in the late 60's, old boy Nicolae was in quite the position of power (I've learned in my time in my own new home/post-communist country that things were not NEARLY as egalitarian as the propaganda would have you believe. Orwell's Animal Farm paints a surprisingly accurate picture of the corruption and greed by those in power, but that's a story for another day). Ceausescu had great dreams for his society but lacked execution, you might say. To build his palaces and optimally exploit the natural resources of the land thereby maximizing his countries economic output he came to the logical conclusion that he would need a massive labour force. He demolished rural dwellings and communities, removing people from their homes all over the country side and built giant panelak housing units (lit: concrete panel houses) on the outskirts of Bucharest, not unlike the one I live in today (ok, way more decrepit and derelict than my current abode in Bratislava, but the same idea) in which to house the new and centralized work force in. He made physical labour the new national priority, forget education. Let me say that one more time so you can grasp the magnitude of it: He destroyed homes and forced the majority of the population to do physical work for low wages (sounds like little more than slavery, if you ask me). He then figured that to optimize national output he would need the largest workforce possible. So he outlawed abortion. This was even more significant than you might think because he had already made all methods of contraception illegal. So now if you are a Romanian in the late 60s you have in all likelihood been forced to do physical labour at low wages and are forbidden by the federal government from having safe sex. But that wasn't enough for Nicolae, he went on to hail mothers of 10 or more children as state heroes and instituted income taxes of up to 50% on married couples above the age of 25 who had no children. A myriad of terrible side effects ensued but the most obvious are that the education of the Roma people declined and a culture of child-bearing was established.
So the crazy racist ramblings of my new neighbours suddenly seem a lot more understandable. I don't think it's justified, but I can clearly understand why these attitudes exist.
Now maybe this is an isolated experience and all other attitudes and isms are not based in such obvious fact. However we are all able to speak only from our own practical experiences, and my most recent ones have been extremely eye opening for someone who considered himself at least somewhat educated vis a vis social issues, and which I had to travel half way around the world to attain. So I would love to see those campaigning for social issues (which include some really great people, I don't mean to cast broad brush strokes) seek to educate as to why these attitudes exist. It did a lot for me to understand that some of the stereotypes I had heard about Roma were quasi-truths, or at least had some foundation in fact. From there, it was much easier for me to understand where the racist attitudes of my colleagues and friends were coming from. So rather than explain to frosh leaders and students-at-large that racism, sexism and all other kinds of oppression are wrong, I am beginning to believe we must strive to explain why these attitudes exist before we go on to debunk them, challenge them and/or examine ways to change them. Rather than the current practice of throwing terminology and best practice at everybody enrolled in a post-secondary institution and patting ourselves on the back for a job well done (I'm guilty of this part too)!
Anyways, my point here, and the big angle I'm trying to play is not to hate on people championing human rights, (I reiterate that I think the work is critical despite what the title of this post might suggest) but that we can always do things better and we must not be afraid to objectively analyze and critique our methods lest we remain blindfolded to better solutions that we may not have yet imagined, even when the subject matter is sensitive.
As always, comments, questions and discussion are welcome and encouraged.
Thanks for stopping by.
Due to the complex nature of social issues I think this happens a lot in this particular arena.
In my experience, (my name comes up in paragraph 6...I also realize that now even the term "Sensitivity Training" is insensitive...) in working with Social Issues Commissions, they try, but generally fail to do much in the ways of educating people. At the end of anti-oppression training sessions, majority groups are left quivering in fear that they might accidentally step on toes; or worse, they feel as though they are being lectured and tune out. I've been out of the establishment for almost 8 months now and I sincerely hope things are changing for the better through the encouragement of dialogue and discussion by all parties. Though I maintain a healthy skepticism.
In my short time away from Kingston, I've come across some extremely overt and systemic acts of racism. The most prolific example is the engrained hate in Eastern Europe directed at the Roma people (colloquially referred to as Gypsies).
I was shocked when I heard my new Slovak friends talk about these people as second class citizens. They referenced their low standards of education, and their exploitation of children and child welfare laws. Coming from a left-leaning, uber-inclusive environment I was astounded at the blatant disregard for the rights of another group of people. The racism was overt and systemic and unlike anything I had been privy to. But rather than judge and condemn my new-compatriots, I tried to understand where they were coming from. After all, earlier in the week I had had a Roma man spit in my face when I refused to give him a cigarette (I don't smoke, so I didn't have cigarettes) and I had seen many children begging for money as their parents stood around the corner egging them on.
So I did a little research. In true Dr. House fashion, I figured that their must be a reason behind such behaviour. It wasn't until I saw a BBC Documentary, "The Lost World of Communism" that I began to understand. To continue with this Roma example, which hits particularly close to my new home, we must go back to Romania in the 1960s. Particularly, we must examine the reforms instituted by the man who I believe, is quite obviously one of the primary culprits, Nicolae Ceausescu. As the leader of Communist Romania in the late 60's, old boy Nicolae was in quite the position of power (I've learned in my time in my own new home/post-communist country that things were not NEARLY as egalitarian as the propaganda would have you believe. Orwell's Animal Farm paints a surprisingly accurate picture of the corruption and greed by those in power, but that's a story for another day). Ceausescu had great dreams for his society but lacked execution, you might say. To build his palaces and optimally exploit the natural resources of the land thereby maximizing his countries economic output he came to the logical conclusion that he would need a massive labour force. He demolished rural dwellings and communities, removing people from their homes all over the country side and built giant panelak housing units (lit: concrete panel houses) on the outskirts of Bucharest, not unlike the one I live in today (ok, way more decrepit and derelict than my current abode in Bratislava, but the same idea) in which to house the new and centralized work force in. He made physical labour the new national priority, forget education. Let me say that one more time so you can grasp the magnitude of it: He destroyed homes and forced the majority of the population to do physical work for low wages (sounds like little more than slavery, if you ask me). He then figured that to optimize national output he would need the largest workforce possible. So he outlawed abortion. This was even more significant than you might think because he had already made all methods of contraception illegal. So now if you are a Romanian in the late 60s you have in all likelihood been forced to do physical labour at low wages and are forbidden by the federal government from having safe sex. But that wasn't enough for Nicolae, he went on to hail mothers of 10 or more children as state heroes and instituted income taxes of up to 50% on married couples above the age of 25 who had no children. A myriad of terrible side effects ensued but the most obvious are that the education of the Roma people declined and a culture of child-bearing was established.
So the crazy racist ramblings of my new neighbours suddenly seem a lot more understandable. I don't think it's justified, but I can clearly understand why these attitudes exist.
Now maybe this is an isolated experience and all other attitudes and isms are not based in such obvious fact. However we are all able to speak only from our own practical experiences, and my most recent ones have been extremely eye opening for someone who considered himself at least somewhat educated vis a vis social issues, and which I had to travel half way around the world to attain. So I would love to see those campaigning for social issues (which include some really great people, I don't mean to cast broad brush strokes) seek to educate as to why these attitudes exist. It did a lot for me to understand that some of the stereotypes I had heard about Roma were quasi-truths, or at least had some foundation in fact. From there, it was much easier for me to understand where the racist attitudes of my colleagues and friends were coming from. So rather than explain to frosh leaders and students-at-large that racism, sexism and all other kinds of oppression are wrong, I am beginning to believe we must strive to explain why these attitudes exist before we go on to debunk them, challenge them and/or examine ways to change them. Rather than the current practice of throwing terminology and best practice at everybody enrolled in a post-secondary institution and patting ourselves on the back for a job well done (I'm guilty of this part too)!
Anyways, my point here, and the big angle I'm trying to play is not to hate on people championing human rights, (I reiterate that I think the work is critical despite what the title of this post might suggest) but that we can always do things better and we must not be afraid to objectively analyze and critique our methods lest we remain blindfolded to better solutions that we may not have yet imagined, even when the subject matter is sensitive.
As always, comments, questions and discussion are welcome and encouraged.
Thanks for stopping by.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Some Racist Thoughts
One of the token expressions among the expat community is that Slovakia makes you racist.
The thinking behind such an expression is that people from all over the world come here to work, and when they see, day in, day out, the stereotypical Slovak (lazy and drunk), and have to wait in extremely long lines, and have to endure absolutely atrocious service (I use the term service liberally) they start to harbor a certain disdain. I was talking to Sarp about it and he said something I found to be extremely intriguing -everyone is just a product of their society. When I get on the bus and older Slovak men stare at me with what feels like ire, it's probably for a reason. These old men have seen things that I cannot imagine, including the exportation of over 12,000 jews, struggles with the perpetually unemployed and uneducated Roma people, coups for power by nazi germany, and communist USSR and corruption of the highest order. No wonder trust doesn't come easy and newcomers aren't always welcomed with open arms.
It's not racism, it's rationality.
For select parts of the last four years I felt extremely uncomfortable for being a white male (there, I finally said it.) It's also worth noting that for two years I worked beside the Social Issues Commission. Ignore the fact that my three best friends were brown and I have a William Ayers quote on my Facebook profile; if I wasn't out spending my day crusading against phobics of all sorts, I was just as bad as the aforementioned quasi-KKK members. That is racism, it's not rational.
Sorry but I honestly had other priorities, like passing school and trying to develop myself as a person.
After four years on a campus that was obsessed with the idea of "isms," ('oh wait those doesn't include "phobias" and might exclude another form of prejudice we haven't deemed important yet, better find a new umbrella to group all the haters under') then "sensitivity" ('hold up a minute, we can't call it being sensitive, that's offensive because it implies select groups will be offended if we aren't sensitive all the time') then finally "anti-oppression" ('I think we can call it anti-oppression, we certainly don't want to oppress anyone, I think that covers all our bases') I refute the idea of white privilege ruining the lives of so many at Queen's even more. Such obsession and need to persecute, rather than educate, served only to polarize the population further.
In the last few weeks I've met and seen people that have endured experiences anyone privileged enough to have made it to Queen's could not imagine. I do not mean to trivialize the negativity that some Queen's students may have experienced but honestly, you have no perspective (and I will be the first to admit I'm only just starting to gain some). After four years of being accused of enjoying my "white privilege" I finally come to a place where I meet people from all over the world that could very legitimately hold my CANADIAN privilege against me. And yet they don't. Everyone I have met here, no matter what they have inured has accepted me first as a person and taken me at face value, for that I feel more respect than a (insert your favourite type of) issues commissioner could ever demand out of me. They have not judged me but tried to learn from me and tried to teach me what values they hold as important. They could blame me and the Western world that I represent for innumerable things and make hundreds of excuses for themselves but they haven't. I'm embracing the idea of the global citizen, we're all people first.
I find it quite refreshing.
This is only a few thoughts and reflections on my past experiences. I have not articulated it as well as I had hoped, which probably means the thoughts aren't completely formed. I hope they don't ever completely form, as then they will atrophy. I don't seek to alienate, comments and discussion are always welcome and I'm sure I'll blog more about this topic when the mood strikes me or I feel like I've compiled a little more insight. I'm just getting started.
UPDATE: I hope nowhere in this blog does it sound like I'm hating on Slovakia. This place has been great so far.
The thinking behind such an expression is that people from all over the world come here to work, and when they see, day in, day out, the stereotypical Slovak (lazy and drunk), and have to wait in extremely long lines, and have to endure absolutely atrocious service (I use the term service liberally) they start to harbor a certain disdain. I was talking to Sarp about it and he said something I found to be extremely intriguing -everyone is just a product of their society. When I get on the bus and older Slovak men stare at me with what feels like ire, it's probably for a reason. These old men have seen things that I cannot imagine, including the exportation of over 12,000 jews, struggles with the perpetually unemployed and uneducated Roma people, coups for power by nazi germany, and communist USSR and corruption of the highest order. No wonder trust doesn't come easy and newcomers aren't always welcomed with open arms.
It's not racism, it's rationality.
For select parts of the last four years I felt extremely uncomfortable for being a white male (there, I finally said it.) It's also worth noting that for two years I worked beside the Social Issues Commission. Ignore the fact that my three best friends were brown and I have a William Ayers quote on my Facebook profile; if I wasn't out spending my day crusading against phobics of all sorts, I was just as bad as the aforementioned quasi-KKK members. That is racism, it's not rational.
Sorry but I honestly had other priorities, like passing school and trying to develop myself as a person.
After four years on a campus that was obsessed with the idea of "isms," ('oh wait those doesn't include "phobias" and might exclude another form of prejudice we haven't deemed important yet, better find a new umbrella to group all the haters under') then "sensitivity" ('hold up a minute, we can't call it being sensitive, that's offensive because it implies select groups will be offended if we aren't sensitive all the time') then finally "anti-oppression" ('I think we can call it anti-oppression, we certainly don't want to oppress anyone, I think that covers all our bases') I refute the idea of white privilege ruining the lives of so many at Queen's even more. Such obsession and need to persecute, rather than educate, served only to polarize the population further.
In the last few weeks I've met and seen people that have endured experiences anyone privileged enough to have made it to Queen's could not imagine. I do not mean to trivialize the negativity that some Queen's students may have experienced but honestly, you have no perspective (and I will be the first to admit I'm only just starting to gain some). After four years of being accused of enjoying my "white privilege" I finally come to a place where I meet people from all over the world that could very legitimately hold my CANADIAN privilege against me. And yet they don't. Everyone I have met here, no matter what they have inured has accepted me first as a person and taken me at face value, for that I feel more respect than a (insert your favourite type of) issues commissioner could ever demand out of me. They have not judged me but tried to learn from me and tried to teach me what values they hold as important. They could blame me and the Western world that I represent for innumerable things and make hundreds of excuses for themselves but they haven't. I'm embracing the idea of the global citizen, we're all people first.
I find it quite refreshing.
This is only a few thoughts and reflections on my past experiences. I have not articulated it as well as I had hoped, which probably means the thoughts aren't completely formed. I hope they don't ever completely form, as then they will atrophy. I don't seek to alienate, comments and discussion are always welcome and I'm sure I'll blog more about this topic when the mood strikes me or I feel like I've compiled a little more insight. I'm just getting started.
UPDATE: I hope nowhere in this blog does it sound like I'm hating on Slovakia. This place has been great so far.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Pedro's Piccolo's and Azil
Today was a little better than yesterday. I'm hoping that that trend will continue at least over the next three months.
I actually slept for a good part of the day. My flatmate Sarp brought me a big plate of strawberries for breakfast. He has been an amazing host and I hope I am able to find a way to show him my gratitude.
Around 7 I was picked up by my coworker Sherisse who hails form Scotland and her friend Santiago from Columbia. We took the same bus I will be taking to work to their friend Pedro's house. It was a sweet flat in a building that was probably at least 200 years old. It was here that I was privy to my first real meal in Bratislava. Pedro cooked up a feast of Portuguese proportions, the highlight of course was the Blood Pudding. Sherisse smirked at me when I took the first bite and while I had the faintest notion of what it might have been I asked her not to tell me what it was until I was finished. It wasn't that brutal at all.
The coolest thing about Pedro's though, was the multitude of nationalities that made up his living room. It's an extremely disarming experience to all of a sudden be interacting with people from places you didn't know existed, when you are used to the blonde-lululemon wearing, toronto private-school graduating, face-eater sunglass donning, near-aryan complexion homogeny that surrounds the five block radius that is the heart of Queen's campus. It's worth noting that the latter is not nearly as bad as I just made it sound. There were two native Slovak's there as well, one from Bratislava and the other from much nearer Ukraine. They offered some really interesting insight and perspective and I enjoyed talking to them.
We spent a long time at Pedro's digesting our food before finally making a move to the bar. There really isn't a lot of pressure to deal with lineups or get to the bar on time. If the bar you want to go to has a line you can go drink somewhere else for a few hours and then come back. If there's still a line: chug a red bull and repeat. On the way to our final destination, a hole in the wall colloquially referred to as Azil, we saw a temptation that we couldn't resist.
If Azil was a hole in the wall then Piccolo's was a cave or a fissure, that God had only allowed to happen by accident. None the less, we couldn't resist the sign on the door that announced a mere 70 cent price tag on vodka shots. The lighting was dim green and an assortment of skinheads hid behind a near opaque wall of Marlboro smoke. The vodka was obviously the filthiest thing I have ever drank and we promptly climbed back up the steep stone staircase and continued on to Azil.
Azil actually turned out to be the bar that I managed to miraculously find my way home from on night one. As I reflect on that more and more it really was lucky, haha. To enter the bar you need to go down a steep set of stairs that opens to a small room with a bar. There isn't really much distinction as to where the front or back of the bar is, as everyone is mingling everywhere. The bar is composed of a labyrinth of stone tunnels with ceilings no higher than 6 feet high connecting a variety of themed rooms (although most of them have dark red upholstery, presumably to hide stains of all sorts) culminating in a dance pit/time machine. The music selection at all the establishments I have been to thus far is subject of another blog post entirely.
I wasn't feeling particularly rowdy so I only had a drink or two. We actually spent most of our time outside sitting on the curb as friends talked and smoked (not me mother, don't worry). It was a really nice night and the scenery is something else. St. Nicholas' Cathedral is located directly across the street in a courtyard below and is lit up beautifully at night. It's a glimpse of the old town. I also learned that their used to be a synagogue directly facing it. Unfortunately when the Nazi's needed to build a bridge across the Danube River they decided it would be a great opportunity to pave over it.
At one point outside, a Slovak man e in his early 30s wearing a yellow Hawaiian shirt and giant black skate shoes with white laces overheard I was Canadian. After putting a hand on my wallet I ended up talking to him for about half an hour about California, Michael Moore and of course hockey.
Tomorrow afternoon Sherisse is picking me up to play touch rugby with people from work so hopefully I will get a better idea what the deal is with that.
Happy Mother's day from Slovakia!
I actually slept for a good part of the day. My flatmate Sarp brought me a big plate of strawberries for breakfast. He has been an amazing host and I hope I am able to find a way to show him my gratitude.
Around 7 I was picked up by my coworker Sherisse who hails form Scotland and her friend Santiago from Columbia. We took the same bus I will be taking to work to their friend Pedro's house. It was a sweet flat in a building that was probably at least 200 years old. It was here that I was privy to my first real meal in Bratislava. Pedro cooked up a feast of Portuguese proportions, the highlight of course was the Blood Pudding. Sherisse smirked at me when I took the first bite and while I had the faintest notion of what it might have been I asked her not to tell me what it was until I was finished. It wasn't that brutal at all.
The coolest thing about Pedro's though, was the multitude of nationalities that made up his living room. It's an extremely disarming experience to all of a sudden be interacting with people from places you didn't know existed, when you are used to the blonde-lululemon wearing, toronto private-school graduating, face-eater sunglass donning, near-aryan complexion homogeny that surrounds the five block radius that is the heart of Queen's campus. It's worth noting that the latter is not nearly as bad as I just made it sound. There were two native Slovak's there as well, one from Bratislava and the other from much nearer Ukraine. They offered some really interesting insight and perspective and I enjoyed talking to them.
We spent a long time at Pedro's digesting our food before finally making a move to the bar. There really isn't a lot of pressure to deal with lineups or get to the bar on time. If the bar you want to go to has a line you can go drink somewhere else for a few hours and then come back. If there's still a line: chug a red bull and repeat. On the way to our final destination, a hole in the wall colloquially referred to as Azil, we saw a temptation that we couldn't resist.
If Azil was a hole in the wall then Piccolo's was a cave or a fissure, that God had only allowed to happen by accident. None the less, we couldn't resist the sign on the door that announced a mere 70 cent price tag on vodka shots. The lighting was dim green and an assortment of skinheads hid behind a near opaque wall of Marlboro smoke. The vodka was obviously the filthiest thing I have ever drank and we promptly climbed back up the steep stone staircase and continued on to Azil.
Azil actually turned out to be the bar that I managed to miraculously find my way home from on night one. As I reflect on that more and more it really was lucky, haha. To enter the bar you need to go down a steep set of stairs that opens to a small room with a bar. There isn't really much distinction as to where the front or back of the bar is, as everyone is mingling everywhere. The bar is composed of a labyrinth of stone tunnels with ceilings no higher than 6 feet high connecting a variety of themed rooms (although most of them have dark red upholstery, presumably to hide stains of all sorts) culminating in a dance pit/time machine. The music selection at all the establishments I have been to thus far is subject of another blog post entirely.
I wasn't feeling particularly rowdy so I only had a drink or two. We actually spent most of our time outside sitting on the curb as friends talked and smoked (not me mother, don't worry). It was a really nice night and the scenery is something else. St. Nicholas' Cathedral is located directly across the street in a courtyard below and is lit up beautifully at night. It's a glimpse of the old town. I also learned that their used to be a synagogue directly facing it. Unfortunately when the Nazi's needed to build a bridge across the Danube River they decided it would be a great opportunity to pave over it.
At one point outside, a Slovak man e in his early 30s wearing a yellow Hawaiian shirt and giant black skate shoes with white laces overheard I was Canadian. After putting a hand on my wallet I ended up talking to him for about half an hour about California, Michael Moore and of course hockey.
Tomorrow afternoon Sherisse is picking me up to play touch rugby with people from work so hopefully I will get a better idea what the deal is with that.
Happy Mother's day from Slovakia!
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