Really?

Is this even necessary?

What is the world coming to?

I wish it didn't have to end this way

I don't know when I first smoked a cigarette but I do remember when I jumped from bumming cigarettes off of other people (because that doesn't really count as smoking, right?) to actually buying my own pack. And then packs. Lots of them. That was last spring.

I blame my current smoking habit on three things: 1) Fletcher parties, 2) the damn UN and its cigarette vending machines and 3) Mad Men (who saw Betty smoking pink cigarettes a few weeks ago? AMAZING!). And yeah, I guess my complete lack of self-control could also be to blame. Maybe.

So this all bring me to last night. After downing a few glasses of wine and partaking in the makeshift graduate school club we had going in the basement, nothing sounded better than a cigarette. I found my way to the porch, chatted up a friend, and lit up. A first-year student came up to introduce himself and here's where things really went downhill. I talk with my hands and this, in combination with the aforementioned wine and a total lack of coordination, led to complete disaster when it was my turn to chime in. I raised my lit cigarette and did a quick demonstration of what the dance floor downstairs looked like. And then I dropped my cigarette onto my other arm. And then while trying to get the burning cigarette off of my arm, I picked up said burning cigarette by the lit end.

Jesus. Thankfully, Trader Joe's wine has some kind of wonderful numbing effect so I could hardly feel the burn at the time. I'm left with a couple of bright red spots on my arm and hand, but I'm sure those will go away eventually or at least serve as a great way to make conversation in a bar. What won't go away, however, is the shame in knowing that some first-year student will forever remember me as the girl who dropped a lit cigarette on herself. Damn it.

I also took last night's experience as a sign that I'm just not meant for smoking. While I feel absolutely no gulit in knocking back endless Diet Cokes, I feel pretty bad when I smoke. I even go so far as to take the cigarette out of my mouth and cover it with my hand when I walk past small children. Plus, I'm starting to sound like a man. I figure that the stars are just not aligned for me and my beloved Parliaments, so it's time to let them go. And now begins day one of my breakup with cigarettes.

VALIDATION!

My love affair with Diet Coke has lasted over a decade. And it's not looking to stop any time soon, at least not with a thesis and the stress of (not) finding a job coming up in the near future. I get a lot of flack for knocking back roughly a six-pack a day. Sure, I could just drink water, but water doesn't have that delicious Diet Coke crispness. Plus, water doesn't come in those delightful silver cans.

The draw back to drinking so much Diet Coke is that I feel like in the eyes of most of my peers, it's just short of being a meth addict. I pull out a can from my bag and I can already hear the groans. "Oh my God. NOT ANOTHER ONE."

Here's the thing about the Diet Coke jihadists. These folks are, without a doubt, the most likely to engage in a number of annoying health behaviors. Such behaviors include the following: eating natural peanut butter, wearing gym pants when not at the gym (WE GET IT. YOU WORK OUT.), etc. Until now, I've kept quiet. But now it's war.

And now I've got some back-up. Guess what, Diet Coke haters? The TimesOnline says you can suck it. (I'm paraphrasing.) There are definite negatives to drinking massive amounts of my beloved DC, including loss of tooth enamel and bone density - things that are also adverse effects of drinking coffee, I'd like to add. And the European Commission has found no links between asparatame (the sweetner used in Diet Coke) and cancer/depression/the plague/whatever the hell else you negative Nancys want to throw at me.

The British Food Standards Agency advises adults to drink no more than 14 cans a day. Ha! I've got a ways to go before I reach that limit...

Frat Humor at its Worst

I once read a book that was so misogynistic that I had to buy The Feminine Mystique to undo the damage it had done to me. That book has now been made into a movie: http://www.ihopetheyservebeerinhell.com/

Someone call Ban Ki-Moon. A crime against humanity has occurred.

There's only one way to describe this book and movie. Unfortunately, it's crass. But trust me, it's apropos: I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell is a bad dick joke spread out into 200-some pages and now 1.5 hours of screen time.

As my brother says, this is going to be like Lord of the Rings for the kind of guys that sleep with strippers.

Here's your fix

What up, team? You thought I was gone. Dry your tears. Put away the Zoloft. I'm back. My computer is now alive thanks to the gentlemen at Best Buy. And I'm ready to go.

There are a lot of things I don't miss about Europe - mainly German, the lack of decent crackers, and the euro-dollar exchange rate. Yet there are a number of things I actually do miss. I could go on for hours about the quality public transportation system and the more stable work-life balance most Europeans had seemed to achieve, but this is pretty much "I-did-study-abroad-in-Europe-and-here-are-the-things-I-totally-loved-about-Europe!!!!!" kind of stff. What I really miss the most? Mismatched couples.


One of the first things I noticed in Europe was that the "opposites attract" mentality was alive and in effect EVERYWHERE. Initially, I was shocked and appalled. And I didn't just see this phenomenon once; I saw it all over the place - from the subways in Vienna to the beaches of Greece to a bar in the Czech Republic. Here's how it looked: a moderately attractive man or woman, standing arm-in-arm with a significant other who was one, if not all, of the following things: 1) chubby 2) covered in piercings 3) wearing something ill-fitting and/or stained. But yet both people looked extremely happy. As if they didn't actually things there was anything wrong.

I stared at each and every one of these odd couples. Almost to the point where I knew throughout instinct (and clearly not language skills) that the couple was whispering to one another, "Which one of us is going to hit her first?" And it was during one of these awkward staring contests between myself and what looked to be Matt Damon and Janet Reno holding hands, it finally hit me. Maybe there's actually nothing wrong with this. Maybe it's me.

In the US, one look around a bar/graduate school classroom and you can be pretty sure who would give you the time of day and who would likely feign deafness if you tried to talk to them. And this is all based on physical beauty - nothing else. It's kind of an unspoken rule that you're limited to those with whom you share the most physical traits. Try having your friends set you up on a blind date if you don't believe me. You're a little curvy? Surprise, surprise. Mr. Blind Date has a spare tire that would put Homer Simpson to shame. And it goes on and on - height, style, etc.

But in Austria and the other places I lived and visited, while I'm sure physical beauty played a role in bringing people together, there's not the same sense of "conventionally pretty" as there is in the US. As a result, people get together who aren't necessarily in the same "league." I know, I know. This is a lot to digest. There are places in the world where people might need more than just "Is s/he hot?" or "If I'm a solid 7, is s/he at least a 6?" to consider dating? Places where amihotornot.com just doesn't have the same cultural pull as here in the States?

Possibly. Either that or Europe has a lot of couples who met when they were completely shit-faced, when traditional standards of beauty become a little blurred (literally). Unfortunately, this would negate my thesis. But at the very least we'd all have the satisfaction of knowing that beer goggles are a universal phenomenon.

Austria, if you're reading this, please give me a visa

For US citizens, you're allowed a 90-day tourist visa in Austria. My internship will end up lasting about a hundred some days - which requires me to get a work visa. A friend, however, advised me to "figure out all that visa stuff when you get there - no big deal." I will be filing this piece of advice alongside, "Those skinny jeans will look great on you!" in the total bullshit category.

What follows is a brief overview of my attempt to get a work visa:

1. I call the Austrian magistrate to figure out how to get a visa
2. The Austrian magistrate gives me the number to the US embassy in Vienna (?)
3. I call the US embassy
4. US embassy receptionist laughs, provides number to the Austrian mission to the UN (?)
5. I call the Austrian mission to the UN; the person to whom I should speak is on holiday (go figure)
6. I call the Austrian mission to the UN again; the receptionist tells me to visit the magistrate in person
7. I go to the magistrate's office, get a form in German that may or may not be for getting a visa
8. The clerk tells me that to process the form, I need to find who owns my building and have them sign off that I live there
9. I leave the magistrate's office, throw cell phone on the ground in frustration
10. Phone breaks

At this point, I'm not above groveling/crying/marrying an Austrian.

What does Kanye have to do with the CZR?

Well, he filmed the video for "Diamonds from Sierra Leone" in Prague, for one thing. Surprising, yes?

That's just one of the many fun facts I learned about Prague during my weekend trip there. Prague is quite the hot spot in Europe - reminiscent of a giant dollhouse with some junkies and obnoxious British tourists thrown in for good measure. When it comes to central Europe, Prague has everything you need - beautiful architecture like Vienna (without the stuffiness) and some remaining Communist-era vibes like Budapest (but not nearly as grungy). Even better, the Czech Republic is inexplicably cheap. Like, 80 cents a beer cheap.

And the highlights?

1. Franz Kafka is everywhere

I went through a stage in high school where I got really into The Metamorphosis so all the Kafka paraphanalia brought back some good (and by "good" I mean "horribly awkward") memories.

2. Folk dancing festival!

I stumbled upon an international folk dancing festival on my first day walking around Prague. Who doesn't love folk dancing? And not to get all "Cultural Change Institute" on you, but some folk dances schooled the others. The Greeks and Croatians? Awesome. But dance troupes from the Baltic states? Nyet.

3. Jewish Quarter

Beautiful, well-preserved, and home of a legit bagel shop.

4. Museum of Communism

The poster says (shows?) it all.

I could have told you that

"Not Funny: We Seldom Laugh."

This is the title of the lead story in today's Heute, the Austrian newspaper. From my "field research" in Vienna this summer, I've made the same observation: Austrians are immune to humor. According to the story, only 40% of Austrians laugh once a day. Have they not heard of YouTube?

Ironically, the only time I've heard hearty, genuine laughter from Austrians is when I saw Brüno in a Viennese theater. If you're reading this blog from rural Sierra Leone (Lisa Inks!) and haven't heard of the movie, just imagine the most vulgar caricature of a gay man, multiply it by 10, then add in a faux-Austrian accent and some occassional references to the Third Reich. Then you get Brüno. That's about it in terms of plot. I can't believe this is what it took to get Austrians to let loose.

Unsolved mystery of the summer

How do Austrian women stay so thin when all they eat is bread? It's the greatest injustice of all.

Above is a picture of Anker, Austria's ubiquitous national bakery chain and the bane of my existence.

Busted!

Last Friday, I turned in a report to my boss that I was fairly proud of - many hours were spent researching why Pakistan has registered reservations (protests, in other words) to two important anti-terror conventions, the International Convention on the Suppression of Terrorist Bombings and the Convention on the Physical Protection of Nuclear Material. OK, so it wasn't an earth-shattering report, but I thought it was interesting. I even included an analysis section on why Pakistan doesn't support the terrorist bombings convention. I argued that because the country's military has links to terrorist organizations, any acts they engage in could fall under the convention and Pakistan would be forced, under international law, to prosecute those parties involved.

Whoops! I guess I took that analysis section a little too far for the UN. Upon receiving said report, my boss gave a gentle scolding. If I remember correctly, I think his words were, "If anyone from the Pakistan ever saw this, our entire unit would get fired." Oops.

But one of the lead stories in the NY Times today discusses the relationship between Lakshar-e-Taiba and the Pakistani government. So even if my analytic skills aren't quite what the UN is looking for, at least the NYT is backing me up.

Internship?

To clarify: yes, I have one. Remember that this is Europe and it's July, so all the big-wigs are on holiday, save for some consultants and all the interns. Work has been slow, thus there's very little to report.

As an overview, I'm assisting on a project that will help streamline counter-terrorism activities within the UN, since nearly every UN agency/office has some anti-terror component. The coordinating body, the Counter-Terrorism Implementation Task Force, is run by my unit (the Terrorism Prevention Branch, or "TPB" on the street). I'm helping to create an online database that UN staffers can use to locate counter-terrorism tools (like specific legislation or UN projects) available in every Member State. I'm also working with another supervisor to build a program that will better showcase TPB's work to donor countries. This involves teaching myself Flash, an animation program, for hours a day.

Notice that both of the projects on which I'm working involve technology. Ironic, because technology is my kryptonite - I usually break everything I own that requires electricity. In fact, I'm frightened by most machines. I don't even use dishwashers or toaster ovens because I can't figure out how to work them. Yet here I am, programming things for an international organization. I'm proof that you can do anything if you put your mind to it, although the results might be mediocre. A modern-day Horatio Alger story? Definitely.

Greece: F-ing hot, literally and figuratively

Buying those 60 euro skyeurope.com tickets to Athens was the best decision I've made in months. Here are the highlights, summarized:

Beaches: Self-explanatory.


Old things: Athens is full of them. Usually, I'm easily annoyed by touristy things but Athens' temples, monuments, and other ruins are definitely worth seeing... even in 100 degree weather, surrounded by thousands of screaming children and American sorority girls wearing their letters in a lame attempt to demonstrate that they're down with the Greek alphabet. And yes, I'm including the 65 year-old man who gave me his number in the "awesome ancient stuff of Athens" category.

















Anarchists: Athens' anarchist neighborhood was the site of major riots last winter (see commemorative graffiti below) and the area continues to attract disaffected youth. In an effort to keep anarchists and other troublemakers under control, Athens has placed armed guards on every street leading into the neighborhood.


Nightlife: The temperature in Athens is ridiculously hot, which makes doing anything in the day a recipe for sweaty disaster. As soon as the sun sets, however, the temperature drops from blistering to sweltering. And it's only then (say, around 12:00) that Athens really starts to get going. I don't know at what point in the night I took the picture below, but I can guess by the blurriness that I was already deep into Athens nightlife (read: Greek beer). Opa!


The Evil Eye/Greek Hipsters: Greeks believe in the evil eye - basically, when someone directs too much energy at you, your body just gives up. You get exhausted, even ill. And what's the first sign that you've got the evil eye on ya? That's right - you yawn. In order to protect themselves from the bad energy you're now spreading, people around you need to make the sign of the cross twice and mumble something like "ptoo, ptoo." I learned this when, at 5:00 in the morning, I yawned in a bar. Bad move. The server saw me and did the aforementioned anti-evil eye thing. I was mystified: "Did that woman just put a hex on me or am I drunk? Or both?" Fortunately, the adorable Greek hipster standing next to me explained the whole evil eye business and assured me that my yawn had cleansed my negative energy. I was neither cursed nor smashed. Thank you, Greek hipster.

CZR!

This past weekend, some UN friends and I rented a car and drove to Český Krumlov, a town in the Czech Republic. Rather than take the train to get there, we opted to do it North American-style and make a road trip out of it. While the drive was supposed to take 2 and a half hours, our journey was probably closer to 6. A lot of this can be blamed on me. As I've said before, I can't be trusted with navigation. However, Google maps should share some of the responsibility.

Český Krumlov, if you've never heard of it, is a UNESCO World Heritage site along the Vltava River. The town provided another opportunity to get my castle fix, as well as do something outdoorsy. This included going on what the receptionist at our hostel called "a gentle walk," which turned out to be a 11.5 km hike straight up a mountain. And I was wearing flip-flops. The painful hike was worth it, however, as we got to "kick bike" all the way down. A kick bike is kind of like a suped-up scooter that goes uncontrollably fast. I really want one of my own.

On Sunday, we went rafting. The river was pretty calm apart from one wicked drop-off.

Note: There were something like two dozen Australians with us on the rafting trip. In fact, Český Krumlov was crawling with Australians. All of them had been backpacking for months and, from the description of their travels, it sounded as though they were taking one giant pub crawl across Europe.

Living the Dream

My first month in Vienna, I lived in the country. Technically, my address was in Vienna but it was on the farthest edge of Vienna possible. So far, in fact, that you had to pass two vineyards to get to my house. Seriously.

My roommate Martin and I found a great apartment located in an area that 's a little less retirement and a little more mid-twenties. We now live in Vienna's 5th district, right near Naschmarkt, which is Vienna's huge open-air market. We share the place with some art students from Germany who are extremely hip. And the best part? I live in the heart of Vienna's gay neighborhood (my room is directly over a gay bar!). It's all I've ever wanted in life.

Above is a picture of my new 'hood. Because I'm an atrocious photographer, you won't be able to make out much, but trust me on this: it's awesome.

USA! USA!

When I was a kid, my dad always gave me shit for starting things and never finishing them. Fortunately for me, I don't think he's mastered the art of surfing the interwebs yet, so there's no way he could have found my semi-abandonded blog over the past couple of weeks to prove his point. Gotcha!

After temporarily breaking my computer (it miraculously turned on after a week) and then traveling without access to the Internet, I'm finally back in blogging action. So what have you missed? Mmm... let's start with the fun stuff...

As one of just a few UN interns from the U.S., I took on the responsibility of showing my international colleagues some good ol' American hospitality on July 4th. And by that I mean I had a party. I was kind of stuck for "American" decorations, so I limited myself to some print-outs of Obama, a homemade shrine to Dr. Pepper, and a bowl full of gummy hamburgers. Because I couldn't locate any shitty American beer, as is required for any good July 4th party, I just bought a lot of Austrian beer and then taped "FREEDOM BEER" labels on them. Yes, it was a great moment for the U.S.

Confession

The name "Department of Homeland Security" sounds lame. And sort of Animal Farm-esque. And now someone agrees with me.

More than just a superficial name change, the author advocates broadening the scope of DHS to include anything that could be related to domestic security, from improving infastructure to researching alternative energy sources. And while the projects/activities that fall under the umbrella of a revamped DHS, the department's overall mission would remain unchanged: DHS would still be responsible for preventing terrorist attacks and responding to natural disasters. Restructing DHS also seems like a move in the right direction as it would create a more proactive department better able to manage threats to national security.

Mighty Beaver!

Yesterday was Canada Day.** I can count on one hand the number of Canadians I've met visiting the U.S. All of those said Canadians were related to me. So it came as a shock when I arrived at the UN-Vienna to find out that everyone here is Canadian. Everyone.

In the spirit of North American solidarity, I celebrated Canada Day yesterday with a group of charming, hockey-loving, poutine-eating Canadians. Although we lacked fireworks and Canadian beer, we did have a Canadian flag to parade around the bar. We also ate some Mexican food so as not to forget about our south-of-the-border friends.

**Even though I grew up an hour and a half from the border, I had no idea there was such a thing as "Canada Day." Shameful, really. For 26 years, I've missed out on a holiday devoted to celebrating hockey, Molson Ice, Shania, and socialized health care.

But things are going to change from now on. Canada Day falls on July 1st, just a mere three days before Independence Day. Why not create a mandatory long weekend to celebrate the fact that our two countries share the longest common border in the world?

I can't believe I graduated from college so long ago

I'm largely against music festivals. For whatever reason, people feel as though festivals give them the freedom to go absolutely buck-wild. And who could blame them? When you put thousands of people in one field, limit them to consuming only hot dogs and cheap beer for hours, chaos is bound to ensue.

And so it was against my better judgment that I found myself at Donauinselfest on Saturday. Donauinselfest is a free, open-air festival in Vienna - a festival which I've heard called the "biggest in Europe." This should have been the first warning sign.

I saw Snow Patrol, a band I last saw in college. This marked the first time in my life I've said, "This reminds me of college!" - something I heard my parents say growing up when Simon and Garfunkel came on the radio. I've never felt so old. Things only got worse when I realized that my friends and I were surrounded by drunk teenagers who, when not throwing beer on one another, sang along with the band in a unintelligible combination of German and English (Gerglish?). There was also a couple standing directly in front of us who made out for the entire set.

Drugs!

I knew you wouldn't read any post about my thesis unless I tricked you into it. Got ya!

On Friday, a few lucky interns got to tour the UNODC's drug lab. Although I'm in the counter-terrorism division, the very top floor of our building houses a laboratory where UNODC chemists assist law enforcement officials with determining whether suspected drugs are, in fact, drugs. Example: Developing country X may not be sure if a package it has intercepted is cocaine. The country then sends a sample to UNODC for testing.

The tour was pretty much like every field trip you took in elementary school, but amped up 15 levels. Remember those visits to the aquarium where you got to play with urchins and sea stars in a touch tank? The UNODC drug lab has something similar. Here are just a few of the high-profile items I was allowed to get my hands on: an opium pipe, a block of opium resin, some LSD tablets, dried poppies, hemp seeds, mescaline, and a package of hallucinogenic mushrooms.

While I should have had the time of my life on the drug tour, I nearly had a panic attack halfway through. Unlike some hard-working Fletcherites, I haven't devoted much time to thinking about my thesis since beginning my internship - a decision I'm sure I'll come to deeply regret. As most of Fletcher knows, my main academic and professional interests are in all things drug-related. So, at the very least, I've stayed up narco news even if I haven't actually written a damn thing.

Here's one exciting piece of news: The US recently announced that it's going to try a new anti-drug strategy in Afghanistan that focuses on interdiction and alternative crop development instead of eradication. Based on what the representative from the UNODC office in Afghanistan said when he was in town a few weeks ago, alternative crop development is fairly effective (see smiling child below) - although the US shouldn't count on the strategy to completely eliminate the opium market. What's interesting for me is that the one US official with whom I've talked views the US change of strategy in Afghanistan positively because it's getting closer to the Plan Colombia model. However, Plan Colombia focused heavily on aerial eradication of coca fields and, at least in the early years, military aid. Is this really what the US is doing in Afghanistan?

I decided sometime in the spring that I'd like to focus my thesis on US counternarcotics efforts globally. Maybe comparing Plan Colombia with current efforts in Afghanistan could be one way to go...

Yes, Mom. I'm alive.

Due to some kind of horrible viral infection, I've been AWOL for the past few days. According to one of the doctors at the UN, I have a throat infection. I've never swallowed burning hot coals before, but I imagine that this is how it feels.

Austrian doctors aren't nearly as good with bedside manner as what I'm used to at the Tufts University Health Center. At Tufts, you come in with a slight cough and the nurses practically carry you to an examination room and shower you with free cans of Ginger Ale and hugs. Not the same in Austria. Here's an excerpt of the conversation I had with the doctor this morning:

UN doctor: I bet it feels like you want to rip your throat out, yes?
Me: Uh, yes. That's one way to describe the pain.
UN doctor: Well, I'm going to give you a prescription for (mumbles something in German). Take it and you should be fine in, say, a week or two.
Me: A week? Or two? What do I have?
UN doctor: A throat infection. It's very severe on one side. Don't worry, though. It's not cancer or anything.

Full disclosure: I tried a lot of home remedies this weekend to deal with the pain - a few of which may or may not have been counterproductive. For instance, two of my magical self-created remedies included eating the spiciest curry I could find on Friday and knocking back four tequila shots on Saturday. I take full responsibility for this illness.

A Croatian Gift 4 U

I forgot to post this gem from my Croatian album.

It's June 26. You know what that means.

Happy International Day against Drug Abuse and Illicit Drug Trafficking.

The UNODC put out a public service announcement that yours truly got to screen yesterday. I even got to help decide which version of the PSA to use! After sitting through years of hokey D.A.R.E. classes, this commercial was a welcome change. The focus group I sat in yesterday was a little confused as to why there's a graphic close-up of one of the addicts' cold sores, but if that keeps the kids from shooting up, it works for me.

Update: UNODC/the 2009 World Drug Report got a Gawker shout-out. Well, sort of. (Thanks, Neeraja!)

Just what you've been waiting for!

Yes, the day has finally come: the 2009 UN World Drug report has just been released. Maybe it doesn't have the same meaning to you as it does to me. My roommates will recall that the 2008 edition of the UN World Drug Report sat in our living room for a good three months while I was writing my final paper for Terrorism/Counter-Terrorism. It made a wonderful conversation piece and coaster. I didn't open the report until a week before the paper was due, which was a terrible mistake - tons of quantitative data on drug use and production everywhere in the world. Even better? The report is written in non-UN English so it's very readable.

And getting back to the point: why should you care about the 2009 UN World Drug Report? Because it's scandalicious, that's why. Antonio Maria Costa,* the Secretary-General for UNODC, now advocates for the decriminalization of narcotics based on the results seen from Portugal's experience with decriminalization. Bam! That's a big change from the UNODC's traditional stance on global drug policy. I'm fairly ambivalent about the issue but in general I'm against any policy that could contribute to the growth of ultimate frisbee players and/or jam bands.

*Sidenote: Earlier this week, I was in the same elevator as Costa. He travels with an entourage. Amazing.

A different side of Croatia

Unlike every other good Fletcher student, I can't name drop war zones or post-conflict societies I've visited. Maybe I could count Mexico given drug violence in the country, but that would be a stretch: my college Mexico trips were a lot more Señor Frog's than narcotraficantes.

The weekend, however, provided me with my first glimpse at the aftermath of war. Driving through Croatia, I was struck by how many cities and towns, particularly in the north of the country, still had visible scars from the country's war for independence.

Passing through one town on the way to Zadar, we turned to see a make-shift war memorial -- the remnants of two demolished buildings, bullet-ridden homes and businesses, a destroyed fighter jet, a dozen tanks, and barricades used by UN peacekeepers.

Balkan adventures

In the nerd universe of IR, you occasionally run into someone I'd classify as a "Balkans fanatic." They're a rare breed, but these hardy souls nevertheless have popped up in both college and grad school. I never really understood the allure in studying the Balkans. I'd stare blankly as my friends and classmates talked about their Slavic travels and ask myself, "Did they mean to study the Near East but got distracted along the way?"

My bad. I get it now.

I left on Friday for a weekend in Croatia. Prior to leaving, the only thing I knew about Croatia was that it wasn't Austria. That was enough to sell me on the trip. Maybe because I had no expectations going into Croatia, it made the country that much better - everything was a surprise. For example, mountains? In Croatia? WHAT? Plus one. Or Roman ruins? Plus two. My love affair with Hungary is quickly fading...

We spend the first night of our Croatian getaway hanging out in Zagreb. Unfortunately, because we didn't do a lot of planning, we had no idea where to go and beyond the city center, the city looks like a post-Soviet nightmare - a gray, factory-filled wasteland dotted by the occasional strip club. We hightailed it out of Zagreb and found a place to stay at a decent hotel for practically nothing. Hooray for recession-friendly vacation destinations!

We spent the next two days driving through the country, visiting some of its beautiful national parks (see right), stopping at a dairy staffed by the most adorable woman I've ever met (see her delicious cheeses below), and then landing in Zadar, a beach town (uh, all the beach pictures). We even gave Zagreb a second chance on Sunday evening and were pleasantly surprised to find that the city does, in fact, have a lovely city center, one that lacks any hint of depressing communist architecture. But there are a still a lot of Yugos around (see car at the top of the post).

The most significant observation I made during the trip is that as far as nationalities go, Croatians are generally pretty attractive. Despite a cuisine that seems to be comprised of only gelato and sausages covered in pancakes, the women are model-like and the men might as well all be professional soccer players.

The only downside to Croatia is that you have to drive through Slovenia to get there. If you like farms, more farms, and paying a 35 euro fee to cross the border, then I highly recommend Slovenia. Otherwise, you can sleep through this one.

A second-hand update from Afghanistan

The workshop on legal reform my office held for a group of Afghan criminal justice officials is winding down. All in all, it was a great experience to a part of. I had a chance to talk extensively with both the UNODC's country officer for Afghanistan and a US Dept. of Justice official working with the Afghan delegation. The UNODC country officer was fairly optimistic regarding the ability of the US to decrease opium production in the country in the long-term. He mentioned that some of USAID's alternative livelihoods programs (they're the programs designed to help poor farmers transition from cultivating poppy to other, non-illict crops) have actually been somewhat effective. Although I'll have to do my own research to figure out if this is the case, he seemed pretty blunt about other challenges Afghanistan is facing. For now, at least, I'll take his word for it.

And here's a fun fact I learned from the DOJ rep - did you know that following the US invasion of Afghanistan, the US left reconstruction of the country's criminal justice system in the hands of Italy? While it may have sounded like a great idea at the time, the results have been, uh, less than sucessful. Only recently did the US get involved with criminal justice system reform (technically, I think Italy still is in charge but now the US has a prominent role in the reform process). Considering that a lot of the recent press on US involvement in Afghanistan hasn't been very positive, maybe conditions are (slowly) improving in the country.

Vienna: Quaint or Backward? (my new favorite game)

Austria has put up a firm and successful resistance to the 21st century. Sure, old people are really into texting and yuppies love Macs just like in the US. On the whole, however, Austria seems to take pleasure in being two steps behind the rest of the developed world.

Exhibit 1: Credit Cards

Trying to use a credit card in Austria is like paying for a Honda Civic with change - unthinkable. In most cases, the store won't accept credit cards and, if they do, the cashier stares you down until you just give in and pull out some cash. Someone tried to explain that credit cards are used here, but they need some kind of special "chip" in the card to make them work. I call this complete bullshit, but I've realized that there are some advantages to using only cold hard scrilla in place of credit. In Boston, I operate using the "if my credit card goes through, I'm sure I've got something in the bank" strategy. In Vienna, I actually have to monitor how much is in my bank account and keep tabs on it everyday to ensure that I have enough to make it through until the end of the week. Revolutionary!

Exhibit 2: Store hours
Q: Which Austrian stores are open after 7:00 PM?
A: Trick question! NONE! National law requires that stores close by 7:00 PM Monday through Saturday and close entirely on Sundays. This means that on most days, I race home just in time to have the doors of the BILLA, my local grocery store, slam in my face. The stores do open absurdly early (6:00 AM? Honestly.) but there are few things I wake early for and supermarkets are not one of them. There are a handful of grocery stores that aren't bound by the mandatory closing time law because they're located near transit hubs. I've been to one of these places on a Sunday and the place was a madhouse. A good two-thirds of Vienna was crammed in there. I imagine that taking a city bus in Calcutta would have been a more comfortable and relaxing experience.

Euro euro bills, y'all

(This one's for you, Mike.)

Lederhosen - breathable?

And finally, the weekend. Shockingly, white wine made another appearance.


On Sunday, I traveled with some friends to Wachau, a UNESCO world heritage site in the Danube valley about an hour's train ride from Vienna. The area is a beautiful - medieval castles and miles and miles of vineyards. After exploring the town of Melk (Stift Melk, the town's famous monastery, is pictured above), we took a boat cruise down the Danube to tour Wachau's famous sights and get a few glasses of some local wines.

The highlight of the day was hiking up to Durstein, the castle in which Richard the Lionheart was imprisoned during the Crusades.

It was a pretty steep hike and, despite hitting the Boston Sports Club frequently during the spring, I was pretty winded by the time I reached the remains of the castle/prison. And there I was at the top, panting, covered in dirt and sweat, and next to me is this middle-aged Austrian man leisurely smoking a cigarette and wearing lederhosen. Yes, those lederhosen.

"Lederhosen" translates to "leather pants." It was 83 degrees out and the man had just taken a hike with those bad boys on. Bold move, Mr. Austria, bold move.