Arizona...and Glen Ellyn
I arranged to go hiking again with Vladimir and Lubisa, although now they were Vlado and Luba (or Libby) because we had become tramping buddies. This time I met them at their tram stop and we started the walk on a different, unmarked trail. Our plan was to go to Arizona, felt to be a sacred, healthy place with the purest water around, although no one could explain the name. In spite of the week's rain including last night, it was once again a beautiful, sunny day. As before, Luba started picking flowers that she would mix together and dry, later adding mint and chamomile purchased from a chemist to make her herbal tea.
Early in our hike Luba pointed out the new-age Austrian windmills seen in the distance, and the town in the valley, the closest village in Austria. We walked through a meadow were there were the remains of the concrete fence pillars and barbed wire used for a barrier when the communists ran the show and patrolled the border. No one walked the meadow then except for soldiers.
We finally arrived at Arizona, a stunning, wooded area with granite outcroppings and a large fire pit. And as far as the eye could see, was the Kingdom of Bear's Garlic as Luba called it. She had brought sausages to cook, so Vlado got busy starting a fire. We were in a national park and there was plenty of wood to be had for the fire, but unfortunately all of it wet. Luba whittled sticks for our roasting utensils and I started picking garlic. This seemed to be an agreeable division of labor, although things seemed to get a little tense when Luba started offering unsolicited advice on how to get a wet fire started. But light it did and when we started grilling, the dripping fat helped the fire even more.
Our sausages looked more like hot dogs, and were almost as fat as they were short. Luba said they were special sausages for cooking over an open fire. They had been cut in an x at either end and as they cooked they curled and opened like flowers. There were logs set out that made a sort of table and benches. When we sat down to eat our feast included rye bread, sausages and salad (raw Bear's Garlic picked last week and washed and crisped for our picnic). We used knives to stab pieces of sausages, combining them with bread and garlic. I felt like a girl scout again and asked if they had scouting in Slovakia. She said it had been popular in the 1930's, but it fell out of favor because the communists thought it was "too western". I was surprised because I think of scouting as just the opposite, that if anything it leans toward communism not away from it.
Finishing our meal we tidied up the area and in 3 seconds doused the fire it had taken Vlado almost an hour to coax into existence. We passed two more natural wells as we walked downhill through the ravines, all of it still covered by a carpet of garlic. Some of it was starting to bud but we tried to pick the younger, more pungent plants. Luba quizzed me along the way: "And Jo-an, is it true that you say fall and not autumn... that you say zero not "oh"... that you cut all your meat before you begin to eat???" Like many english teachers, she uses the UK-published Headway series to teach. Some companies, however, prefer american english to the british version so she was curious about the differences.
Towards the end Luba said, "Joan, break...peace?" "Break...peace?" I dumbly repeated. "Peace" she repeated, then so did I. At least we agreed but I'm not sure on what. Was this a Slovak version of shake-hands peace I had done in church earlier that day? "PISS" she re-pronounced. Ohh! Take a piss! Got it and yes, I need to. We completed our hike, this time finishing near a bus stop which took us to our trams where we continued to our respective flats. Next weeks plans are to visit Sand Hill (in german, Sandberg), an area that fossils confirm used to be a prehistoric sea. It is 500 meters above sea level and sounds like a desert sand dune but I'm not sure.
Returning to my flat I realized my ear was really bothering me. It had been uncomfortable off and on for months, and after using a cotton swab it felt like I had water in my ear. When Ian phoned I also realized I could hardly hear out of that ear. Also, I'd rubbed my eyes with unwashed hands after garlic picking resulting in hay fever-like symptoms. I went to bed pretty miserable and slept poorly. Upon waking up things were no better and I decided it was TIME TO SEE THE SLOVAK DOCS! I'd hoped that I'd never have to do this but it seemed necessary.
Fulbright had referred me to a clinic a short walk away so that's where I headed to go see Dr. Igor Vozar. I walked UP to the first floor (reception is always the main floor which doesn't count) noticing the ornate wrought iron rail and small mosaic tiles, looking like they were from the 20's or 30's. The offices were bland but the entrance reeked of shabby elegance. I told Dr. V about a secondary issue as well (hey, why not?) but when I said I couldn't hear he looked alarmed and said he'd send me to the hospital to an ear, nose and throat specialist. I was out of there before 9:00 and no charge for the consultation. So far so good. I even kind of knew where the hospital was because it was on my way to school.
Stopped at the flat to double check the hospital address online. I was going to Zeleznicna Nemocnica which didn't seem to even be listed. The second word means hospital but I got out my dictionary to figure out the first. Part of that word means green, or growing or vegetable. Green hospital? Vegetable Hospitable? (Maybe they had electrotherapy like at the spa!) At least he didn't refer me to the OK Clinic which WAS listed online. OK? OK, what? We'll make you OK? We're not great, just OK? We're OK, you're OK? Best keep away from OK Clinic.
Over to the hospital now and directed to floor two, which if you're paying attention, you know is really on floor three. Show "Nurse Rached" my paper to see Dr. Gasparova, she doesn't take my name, instead points to a crowded hallway and says two. As the rooms are 227 and 229, two makes no sense. I go back and look pathetic, she walks me over to (locked) room 227 which also has a sign posted that says ORL Ambulancia II. And do what I ask. Neviem, she answers (doesn't know). So you know what's coming, right? I see there are 11 others there and resignedly sit down so I can ask my neighbor DO YOU SPEAK ENGLISH? Bingo, Dagmar did and explained the system is that there is no system. It's not as bad as I thought, though, as she points to everyone in order, she is fourth, and I follow her.
Turns out I'm at a State hospital where she says things actually ran more efficiently under the communists. But because health insurance is deducted monthly, most people have paid into the system and can't afford to go to a private hospital. She says she goes to a private gynocologist and dentist and was being seen for her neck (everyone says that when they mean throat) because it would be too expensive. We chat and I mention Chicago, where her brother, Mark, lives in a Michigan Avenue condo with wife Andrea who really misses Slovakia. We exchange e-mails and I'm thinking a friend for Sona! Dagmar tells me she was an aupair 16 years ago for Russian-Slovak Dr, Palowski...in Glen Ellyn. This is getting too crazy and the world shrinks daily.
We continue to talk until the doctor sticks her head out the door and says Pani Vande Velde? How did she even know I was there?! I apologize for bumping Dagmar out of order and hustle in. There are two desks: Dr. Gasparova, who had summoned me spoke no english so I was seen by the other person who had no identification but did speak english. I explain the problem and sit down in the dentist's chair. She does a brief exam and it takes her no time to decide she needs to remove ear wax from my right ear. She does her thing and sends me out for 15 minutes to wait. Dr. G again calls me in, I get the cotton removed and we do a sort of whispering test across the room, the non-identified person whispering, me repeating, Dr. G positioning me and covering the other ear. The doctor washes the utensils while the other enters the report in the computer and hands me the bill, about $40. (Ah, maybe that's why I got called - cold cash!) I pay Doctor G who has a little money box for the odd paying patients like me. I ask about my other ear concern, but she says that is for a dermatologist and sends me back to the first clinic. I ask her what is the name of the hospital and she says it means Railroad Hospital. Just like the whole morning, makes sense to me!
Admitedlly ear wax is an icky subject. I have vaugely heard of candling but really didn't understand why I had this condition. As usual I went online, but the answer to that is that often there is no answer. Some of the best information came from a doctor's website called Wax, Boogers and Phlegm. Guess you have to keep your humor about icky stuff like that. Back to the first clinic where I run into my first doc, Igor, who asks was I seen and what happened. He seemed genuinely concerned and explained that he did not have the equipment there to do the procedure. So made my appointment for the dermotologist and went home. And just as I'm embarassed to admit I had earwax I hate to admit what I did next. Humming the tune of "You deserve a break today..", I had lunch at McDonald's!
Early in our hike Luba pointed out the new-age Austrian windmills seen in the distance, and the town in the valley, the closest village in Austria. We walked through a meadow were there were the remains of the concrete fence pillars and barbed wire used for a barrier when the communists ran the show and patrolled the border. No one walked the meadow then except for soldiers.
We finally arrived at Arizona, a stunning, wooded area with granite outcroppings and a large fire pit. And as far as the eye could see, was the Kingdom of Bear's Garlic as Luba called it. She had brought sausages to cook, so Vlado got busy starting a fire. We were in a national park and there was plenty of wood to be had for the fire, but unfortunately all of it wet. Luba whittled sticks for our roasting utensils and I started picking garlic. This seemed to be an agreeable division of labor, although things seemed to get a little tense when Luba started offering unsolicited advice on how to get a wet fire started. But light it did and when we started grilling, the dripping fat helped the fire even more.
Our sausages looked more like hot dogs, and were almost as fat as they were short. Luba said they were special sausages for cooking over an open fire. They had been cut in an x at either end and as they cooked they curled and opened like flowers. There were logs set out that made a sort of table and benches. When we sat down to eat our feast included rye bread, sausages and salad (raw Bear's Garlic picked last week and washed and crisped for our picnic). We used knives to stab pieces of sausages, combining them with bread and garlic. I felt like a girl scout again and asked if they had scouting in Slovakia. She said it had been popular in the 1930's, but it fell out of favor because the communists thought it was "too western". I was surprised because I think of scouting as just the opposite, that if anything it leans toward communism not away from it.
Finishing our meal we tidied up the area and in 3 seconds doused the fire it had taken Vlado almost an hour to coax into existence. We passed two more natural wells as we walked downhill through the ravines, all of it still covered by a carpet of garlic. Some of it was starting to bud but we tried to pick the younger, more pungent plants. Luba quizzed me along the way: "And Jo-an, is it true that you say fall and not autumn... that you say zero not "oh"... that you cut all your meat before you begin to eat???" Like many english teachers, she uses the UK-published Headway series to teach. Some companies, however, prefer american english to the british version so she was curious about the differences.
Towards the end Luba said, "Joan, break...peace?" "Break...peace?" I dumbly repeated. "Peace" she repeated, then so did I. At least we agreed but I'm not sure on what. Was this a Slovak version of shake-hands peace I had done in church earlier that day? "PISS" she re-pronounced. Ohh! Take a piss! Got it and yes, I need to. We completed our hike, this time finishing near a bus stop which took us to our trams where we continued to our respective flats. Next weeks plans are to visit Sand Hill (in german, Sandberg), an area that fossils confirm used to be a prehistoric sea. It is 500 meters above sea level and sounds like a desert sand dune but I'm not sure.
Returning to my flat I realized my ear was really bothering me. It had been uncomfortable off and on for months, and after using a cotton swab it felt like I had water in my ear. When Ian phoned I also realized I could hardly hear out of that ear. Also, I'd rubbed my eyes with unwashed hands after garlic picking resulting in hay fever-like symptoms. I went to bed pretty miserable and slept poorly. Upon waking up things were no better and I decided it was TIME TO SEE THE SLOVAK DOCS! I'd hoped that I'd never have to do this but it seemed necessary.
Fulbright had referred me to a clinic a short walk away so that's where I headed to go see Dr. Igor Vozar. I walked UP to the first floor (reception is always the main floor which doesn't count) noticing the ornate wrought iron rail and small mosaic tiles, looking like they were from the 20's or 30's. The offices were bland but the entrance reeked of shabby elegance. I told Dr. V about a secondary issue as well (hey, why not?) but when I said I couldn't hear he looked alarmed and said he'd send me to the hospital to an ear, nose and throat specialist. I was out of there before 9:00 and no charge for the consultation. So far so good. I even kind of knew where the hospital was because it was on my way to school.
Stopped at the flat to double check the hospital address online. I was going to Zeleznicna Nemocnica which didn't seem to even be listed. The second word means hospital but I got out my dictionary to figure out the first. Part of that word means green, or growing or vegetable. Green hospital? Vegetable Hospitable? (Maybe they had electrotherapy like at the spa!) At least he didn't refer me to the OK Clinic which WAS listed online. OK? OK, what? We'll make you OK? We're not great, just OK? We're OK, you're OK? Best keep away from OK Clinic.
Over to the hospital now and directed to floor two, which if you're paying attention, you know is really on floor three. Show "Nurse Rached" my paper to see Dr. Gasparova, she doesn't take my name, instead points to a crowded hallway and says two. As the rooms are 227 and 229, two makes no sense. I go back and look pathetic, she walks me over to (locked) room 227 which also has a sign posted that says ORL Ambulancia II. And do what I ask. Neviem, she answers (doesn't know). So you know what's coming, right? I see there are 11 others there and resignedly sit down so I can ask my neighbor DO YOU SPEAK ENGLISH? Bingo, Dagmar did and explained the system is that there is no system. It's not as bad as I thought, though, as she points to everyone in order, she is fourth, and I follow her.
Turns out I'm at a State hospital where she says things actually ran more efficiently under the communists. But because health insurance is deducted monthly, most people have paid into the system and can't afford to go to a private hospital. She says she goes to a private gynocologist and dentist and was being seen for her neck (everyone says that when they mean throat) because it would be too expensive. We chat and I mention Chicago, where her brother, Mark, lives in a Michigan Avenue condo with wife Andrea who really misses Slovakia. We exchange e-mails and I'm thinking a friend for Sona! Dagmar tells me she was an aupair 16 years ago for Russian-Slovak Dr, Palowski...in Glen Ellyn. This is getting too crazy and the world shrinks daily.
We continue to talk until the doctor sticks her head out the door and says Pani Vande Velde? How did she even know I was there?! I apologize for bumping Dagmar out of order and hustle in. There are two desks: Dr. Gasparova, who had summoned me spoke no english so I was seen by the other person who had no identification but did speak english. I explain the problem and sit down in the dentist's chair. She does a brief exam and it takes her no time to decide she needs to remove ear wax from my right ear. She does her thing and sends me out for 15 minutes to wait. Dr. G again calls me in, I get the cotton removed and we do a sort of whispering test across the room, the non-identified person whispering, me repeating, Dr. G positioning me and covering the other ear. The doctor washes the utensils while the other enters the report in the computer and hands me the bill, about $40. (Ah, maybe that's why I got called - cold cash!) I pay Doctor G who has a little money box for the odd paying patients like me. I ask about my other ear concern, but she says that is for a dermatologist and sends me back to the first clinic. I ask her what is the name of the hospital and she says it means Railroad Hospital. Just like the whole morning, makes sense to me!
Admitedlly ear wax is an icky subject. I have vaugely heard of candling but really didn't understand why I had this condition. As usual I went online, but the answer to that is that often there is no answer. Some of the best information came from a doctor's website called Wax, Boogers and Phlegm. Guess you have to keep your humor about icky stuff like that. Back to the first clinic where I run into my first doc, Igor, who asks was I seen and what happened. He seemed genuinely concerned and explained that he did not have the equipment there to do the procedure. So made my appointment for the dermotologist and went home. And just as I'm embarassed to admit I had earwax I hate to admit what I did next. Humming the tune of "You deserve a break today..", I had lunch at McDonald's!
posted by Joan Vande Velde @ 8:47 AM
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