Encounters

Or, "On Being Ridiculed and Underestimated"

7.22.08

Jana and I were having a glass of wine in a bar in Ceske Budejovice. We'd been on the road / rail for nearly 2 weeks and we had just made it back to "Home Base." Showered and more relaxed than we'd been in a while, we went into an empty bar. Empty was about our speed. We didn't really feel like socializing. Hell, we were even sick of talking to each other. A glass of wine, a bit of silence and then off to bed. I'd taken one sip when I noticed two guys walk into the bar and head our direction. They spoke English with an accent and asked if we knew where to find a pool hall. Jana told them and we hoped we'd be going back to our silent sipping. No such luck.

They didn't really want a pool hall, they wanted conversation. 2 Norwegians traveling around The Czech Republic for a month, one studying for his PhD in Engineering, the other a journalist for a Christian magazine.

The one who pulled his stool up next to mine and then proceeded to awkwardly reach in front of me to grab pistachios off the bar every so often annoyed me off the bat. He expounded on the virtues of black and white thinking and teased his friend, the journalist, for being stuck in the gray zone. Two strikes against the talkative pistachio nut.

But the comment that got me going was later in the conversation when he made fun of Americans for not knowing anything about world geography. I admitted that if he handed me a blank map of Europe and asked me to label Luxembourg, I may not be able to do it but I could quickly find out where Luxembourg was and within 15 minutes I could know some important facts about the country. In my 12 years of teaching I've found the most important factor for measuring intelligence, aptitude, and education is curiosity, not rote memorization. So it seemed to me that the tired, old poll, "How many Americans know where _________ is on a map" is completely outdated with the quick access we have to information. What seems important to me is the type of questions we ask about places outside of our experience and how we process that information - how we make sense of it.

I told our annoying friend from Norway that I was from Idaho and asked him, could he tell me where, in America, Idaho sits. A knockout punch. He could not. How about Kentucky? Down for the count.

I allowed myself a moment for pontificating (Jana yawned... had she heard all this before? Seemed likely). I explained what I was doing in that part of the world and where I'd been over the previous 2 weeks. I admitted that if I'd been tested three months ago on where, exactly, Bosnia and Serbia were, I would have been able to point to the general vicinity but I would have had no hope of accurately pinpointing their exact locations before I began my research. For me, the important thing about someone is not how many facts they've memorized about the map, it's how much curiosity they have about the world. Information, most of us have access to. Understanding is a much harder commodity to come across. In my mind, if you operate in the world allowing preconceptions (even funny, ha-ha, "harmless" stereotypes, "typical Americans") to guide your vision of the world, understanding of that world is nearly impossible to attain.

So, in my travels, often I flinched when I'd hear acquaintances and even friends make "typical American" comments. I not only flinched, but often, I took the bait (since I knew they were teasing me in many situations), but I couldn't let those comments go. Are there ignorant Americans out there? Absolutely. But one thing I do know about the world is that there is no shortage of ignorance and America certainly doesn't have a monopoly on it. Putting too much stock in stereotypes is one sure way to paralyze potential understanding. Curiosity is one way out of ignorance.

Misadventures in Montenegro

Or, "On Destinations and Detours"

7.20.08

On our 2nd morning in Zabljak, Jana and I woke full of ambition - we would climb Bobotov Kuk, the highest peak in all of Montenegro standing at 2522 m or 8274 feet.   We borrowed a map from the owner of the hotel and studied the route we planned on taking.  Locals had told us of two main routes, one starting from Crne Jezero (Black Lake), a 5 minute drive from town. This route would take 6 hours to get to the peak and another 6 on the return.  Upon hearing that estimation, we had to admit to ourselves that we didn't wake up that ambitious.  While we were hungry for a good hike, we still had other things to accomplish that day and, honestly, backpacking around the countries of the former Yugoslavia for 3 weeks, testing the local food and brews along the way, was not what you might call "good training."  The other option would require a little longer of a drive (30 minutes tops - along beautiful Montenegro countryside) but put us on the peak within three hours. That sounded more palatable to us.

But getting to the peak required reading the map correctly and paying attention to the clearly marked signs (hard to miss red dots and arrows spray painted on rocks) along the way.  With scenery like we found in Durmitor, it was a tall order to keep one's eyes peeled for the red dots. Great mountains of limestone surrounded us as we climbed ridges, crossed valleys, scrambled up and then down rock outcroppings.  About an hour into our hike, we crested a ridge and faced a mountain wall with remarkable undulating layers of green and white.  This mountain, Stit, is famous for these "Zeleni Pasovi" or green layers.  Sure, there were taller peaks around us, more imposing looking mountains, but Stit is a signature mountain.  Its likeness is even printed on the tickets to Durmitor National Park the psuedo-army guy sold us when we returned to our car after our hike, evidently, we should have purchased them beforehand, but didn't know that as there was no one selling tickets then.  

We meandered down the north side of Stit, still en route to Bobotov Kuk, and landed in another valley surrounded by more impressive stark white limestone mountains.  And, to continue the theme for our trip to Montenegro, this is where we fell off the map... so to speak. 

We took a left when we should have taken a right - suffice it to say, we got a picture of ourselves on a pass, not even a peak, called Skrcko Zdrijelo standing at 2414 meters.  Of course, this wasn't the highest elevation we'd been for the day, having made our way over two different ridge lines.  But this was the point we realized we had taken a detour. 

Not willing to admit defeat yet, we headed back in the right direction and stood at the base of Bobotov Kuk.  Looking up and then looking at our cell phone (our time keeping device), we decided we'd have to live with the consequences of our mistake.  Being in the depths of Durmitor National Park, in the interior of Montenegro with no one from our outside lives aware of where we were and what we were up to, we decided that it probably wasn't the best of ideas to risk climbing to the peak when it was a little on the late side of things.  

Disappointing? Sure.  But it was moment where I came to terms with what I was willing to risk for adventure.  Most likely, we did have enough time.  Most likely, we would have made it to the top and back down to the car with no incidents.  If I'd been in Idaho where I was more familiar with mountain rescue services and the quality of medical care we might receive for any number of injuries that had gotten stuck in my head (broken leg, smashed in skull etc.), I'm sure we would have bagged that peak. But given the way things had gone the rest of the day with our detours and misdirection, I didn't think a broken leg or a smashed in skull was too far off our karmic path.   I thought it better to head back to car, console ourselves with a warm shower at the hotel and make our way to The Garden, the pub we'd come to feel so at home in... 

I've spent my lifetime figuring out it's not really about where you end up, it's about how you get there.  And who could argue with the day we'd had.  The journey was just fine with me. Destinations and Detours.  Does it really matter as long as you are on your way?