First Impressions: Bratislava

     I'm going to admit something. I've kind of been avoiding writing this post, for a couple reasons. First of all, I don't have pictures yet of everything I'm going to talk about, and if I had pictures, I wouldn't need to write anything at all. But today was my first day at the school, and I feel that this story needs to be told with some semblance of chronology. Secondly, I'm not really sure how I feel about Bratislava yet, and attempting to put it down on screen was a little intimidating. But it also could be liberating. So settle in. Get some tea or coffee and some chocolate. This could take a while. 
     My plane approached Vienna through a cloud. There was so much fog, that we watched another plane disappear within seconds after taking off. It was a balmy 40 degrees or so, and for the first time in months I wasn't in danger of catching hypothermia within minutes of going outside. Border Patrol was a breeze, and my suitcase was one of the first batch out onto the carousel. As I headed through Customs, I tried to recreate a mental picture of the man I had seen only very briefly on Skype nearly a month before: the principal of the school, and the one picking me up. We found each other relatively quickly and he introduced both himself and his 6 year old son, who told me he felt happy. And sleepy, he added later.
     The car ride through the subdued grey of the outskirts of Vienna and the far eastern countryside of Austria was beautiful. It looked exactly how I imagined modern, small-town Europe would look. There were new buildings, some very modern and shiny, others very referential to the history of the area. The streets were narrow and windy, occasionally threading themselves under old gates and along former city defenses. Poplar trees lined the road, and eerily reminded me of Dachau. But then, all of the sudden, Dusan pointed to the left and said "There's Bratislava Castle."
     And there it was. We were still in Austria, but the castle was right there, perched on top of the hill looking very forboding and fortress-y, but also welcoming; an ironic contrast, I know, but one that would prove to pop up again. Crossing the border was as easy as crossing from Minnesota into Wisconsin. There wasn't even a sign. We did pass some scary looking buildings, but other than that, the only reason I knew we were someplace else was that the language on the signs had switched from German to Slovak.
     Immediately after crossing the border, we were in Bratislava, or at least a suburb of Bratislava. They aren't joking when they say the city borders two countries. It actually borders two countries. You leave Bratislava to the west? Austria. Leaving to the south? Hungary. Mind just a little bit blown. Anyway, we drove through a compound of what Dusan called Commie Condos- big, concrete blocks painted with oddly chosen colors and strewn about like a pile of blocks that's just been knocked over. It was really ugly. And this is where I was going to live. And indeed, we eventually pulled up to one of the blocks, this one with grey and yellow, and hauled my suitcases inside, through the decrepit looking lobby area, into the miniscule elevator, and up to the fifth floor where I was welcomed by both my flatmates.
     The flat itself is actually very nice. We each have our own bedroom, painted by the former occupants who were apparently pre-teen girls judging by the brightness of the color palate they chose. There's a good size living room, very usable dining room table in the entry, and a kitchen that's not absurdly small. Bonus: there is also a balcony off the kitchen. The WC and bathroom are tiny, but how much time should you really spend in there anyway?
     My first excursion was to a Slovak restaurant, where I had halusky- the national dish of Slovakia, and basically the most filling version of macaroni and cheese you can imagine. It was delicious. We then headed to a wine tasting at a bookstore. Unlike wine tastings in the States, there was nothing to spit the wine into, so sampling 12 or 13 types of wine was quite the undertaking. I cut myself off after about three quarter-glasses, and finished off the evening with peppermint tea and water, a much better companion to my jet lag. I met some very nice people, all of them teachers/staff at the school, although if you asked me now what any of their names were, I would not be able to tell you. We left, around 11, as I was about to fall asleep in my chair, and wandered back around quiet little streets before reaching the bus stop which is located on a main drag. And that was ugly too. Maybe it was the dark, or my sleepiness, but at that moment I was severely disappointed with Bratislava.
     However, the next day, after a good night's sleep and the first real, non-airplane food I'd eaten in at least 24 hours, we went back to the main part of town, this time to the Old Town proper. And it was gorgeous. The alleys were properly cobblestoned and winding, with towers and palaces at the ends of them. The buildings were ornate, but not overstated, elegant, but not snobby. It was whimsical, with funny statues of bears and men in three cornered hats leaning over the backs of benches. It's all a pedestrian zone, which is very appealing, and you can see the castle from almost anywhere. And, it's not overrun with tourists and gaudy signs advertising the best Irish pub, like other cities I could mention. I was absolutely enchanted.
     So that's the irony of Bratislava. It's both one of the most lovely places I've ever been, and one of the ugliest. It's old and charming, new and dilapidated. The juxtaposition of the 30 year old crumblings of a failed Communist state, and the majestic pink palace breaks my heart a little bit. Who in their right minds could be so blind as to let a city as beautiful as Bratislava seems to have once been become a mess of concrete blocks? Who thought it would be a good idea to wipe away such a rich history and cover it in cement? I just don't understand.
     In any case, I'm still torn. Peterzalka, the area where I live, is growing on me a little. Now that I've walked around it a bit, it's much less intimidating. Our balcony looks out over a long green lawn, and just on the far side of the next building is a canal with walking paths on both sides. It's not my forest wonderland of Havlickovy Sady, but for now, it might just be enough. Also, it snowed today, and everything looks better with a little dusting of white.