Weird and Creepy Scenes in the Toy Museum

Of all the world-class museums and art galleries in München, my favourite, without contest, is the Spielzeug Museum - The Toy Museum. Housed in a strange tower with dizzying spiral staircases, you begin on the 5th Floor. To get there, you take a lift which seems to have been built around the time that lifts were invented. This is thrilling, as it seems like it could stop any moment, and it is about as big as a small wardrobe.



From the top, you trip down the spiral staircase to view the history of toys and playing. The staircase is almost totally enlosed, apart from a few tiny, barred windows looking out onto a snow covered München. There appears to be no one else in the building, but you can hear the faint laughter of children.



These photos are best viewed with a circus soundtrack.

War Heroes on Ordinary Days

This blog is a little retrospective although it relates to my current situation also. I am living with my Opa (grandfather) in a large house, covered with snow, beside a Bavarian forest. Today's blog is about my Opa and how funny he is. Also, about my days.

I'm having the kinds of days where it takes forty-five minutes to have a cup of tea. I make everything perfect: tea, saucer, teaspoon, honey, music, magazine and then I finally settle down with a magazine full of photographs of Mount Everest and the people who have climbed it, and I day-dream about difficulty.

As for me, difficulty is the furthest thing from my reality. On my first day in Germany Opa sat my down over lunch and gave me a finances talk. Namely: 'When it comes to finances, I don't want you to stress yourself out, I will take care of it.' I wonder what miniscule percentage of the world can say they are facing the economic collapse with that kind of security. In fact, if this crisis is as memorable as the Depression and my grandchildren ask me - 'how was it for you?' I will have to confess to spending it eating luxury European cheeses, drinking mineral water, driving a beautiful Mercedes and living in a house with an average of three rooms per person. *
Regarding the big fall down, Opa says 'God gives, God takes away, I actually couldn't give a toss.'

When I was younger, I found numerous habits of Opa's annoying - sometimes even insulting and infuriating. I think this is because I was a teenager and teenagers are simply too simular to old people to really get along with them - both groups refuse to compromise their way of life, even an inch. As an 'adult' I am finding him endearing and hilarious.

Everytime he finishes a task - however small - he says 'So!' and looks satisfied. I smile and say 'mmhm!' - mostly because I don't know what else to say - congratulating him would surely be patronizing. This is not to say he's a hopeless old man, quite the opposite. For example, he just picked up the phone: 'Frau Kessler! ... Hallo! Now, tell me, did I stand on your toes in some way or what?! You have been impossible to contact!' and then the sound of laughter.

His Humphrey Bogart brand of charm is certainly having a time-warp effect on me, where I actually enjoy cleaning everything up, setting the tables, being sweetly cordial and grateful, because his appreciation for all this is so evident. I can see how men of his generation convinced women to stay in the kitchen! (This, incidentally, is something he greatly regrets, saying he should have convinced Renate, his wife, to return to the workforce after the children were older. He said it was one of the biggest mistakes of his life to talk her out of it).

This rabbit lives on the shelf and I often admire him (I love Lindt Gold Rabbits) and ring his little bell. Opa noticed and said 'you can eat him if you want' and I was horrified! Of course not!

Sunday breakfast. Notice the lovely German buns Opa goes and buys for me and Burkhard.

* My finances are still dire, despite everything. I basically drive Opa's Mercedes in order to kid myself that things are fine. Also, I can't stay here much longer, so I will need to join the workforce like everyone else. Incase any of you were hating me for being so bourgeoise. It's all I deserve for having so many Marxist friends, no one to brag about rich cars to...

And now for the weather...

Above: Sunday morning after breakfast, Opa and Uncle Burkhard deep into their newspapers.
Below: the snow lately. The next door neighbours (dogs) enjoying it. The backyard in the afternoon.

Imagine it is so quiet you can hear the snow falling from the trees, from inside, and that is my life. On Saturday I spent several hours baking a New York cheesecake in these conditions.

Retrospective: How Indie is Qatar Airways?!

Contrary to the prim apearance of these cabin crew, Qatar Airways is actually down and hip. Maybe not with regard to aesthetics, but certainly when it came to their inflight entertainment. Their available 'Best Albums Ever' collection could have been plucked staight from pitchfork.com - including such greats as 'Is This It?' by the Strokes, several Radiohead and Blur releases, more than one Beck album, 'Melody A.M.' by Royksopp and an album 'Welcome to Mali' released by West African sensations Amadou & Mariam (their song 'Sabali' is #15 on pitchfork's best tracks of 2008, they were earlier produced by Manu Chao and now Damon Albarn - aka hottest man alive - has his fingers in their pie. AND I had never heard of them - thanks Qatar).

Apart from addressing my numerous shortfalls in music knowledge, I also spent many hours watching films and television. Copying Jenna, I have rated the shows/ movies.

• The American Office - I
• Flight of the Conchords - I
• The Doha Debates - *****
• Vicky Cristina Barcelona - ****
• Nine to Five - *****
• Mamma Mia! - ******

I = Irrevelant. You all already know it.

***** = fantastically entertaining and awesome. May I make a special mention of Nine to Five starring: Dolly Parton, Lily Tomlin and Jane Fonda. First of all - best casting ever, and secondly - most hilarious, insane, third-wave feminist film I have seen in my life.

**** = entertaining and interesting. Woody Allen's new film with, of course, Scarlett Johannsen. Also: Penelope Cruz. Now, these are two actresses with whom I am not enamoured (especially Cruz who is beautiful but stupid) but this was actually good (and embarrassingly filled with steamy sex scenes... I kept thinking I caught people looking at my screen).

****** = so bad it's good. Meryl Streep and Pierce Brosnan singing ABBA songs to eachother. In Greece.

So if you are taking an indie sweetheart on a trip overseas and are afraid of them spending the entire 15 hour flight scoffing at the lame music and film choices available, safe yourself an earache and book a flight with Qatar. But remember: skinny jeans are not sensible wear for flights longer than two hours. I wore: grey tights and my cute green puff dress from Hanoi.

xo.

p.s. Photos/ rants/ etc coming up about Germany.

p.p.s. Big question: Is it that Qatar Airways is hip or is it that we are getting so old that we are now the 'young professionals' that major corporations are aiming at? Are we the new powerful group? Will airlines soon be playing the soft sounds of Sufjan Stevens while we board the plane?!

A terrifying thought.

Misc Blog Wrap-up Nonsense

My first day in Saigon (one of the nicest days of my life):

• Arrive at the train station at 5am after two nights on the sleeper train with my two favourite Americans Sarah and Mitchell. Slightly hungover.
  
• Checking into this hotel. Which is tacky and hilarious, including a GIANT poster of Mount Fuji on my wall. As in, it takes up a whole wall.
  
• Breakfasting with and bidding farewell to my Americans, who were on route to Cambodia (this part wasn't nice, it sucked).
  
• Getting a Xe Om to the War Remnants Museum - previously known as the American War Crimes Museum, and still definitely on that path. It was horrifying, of course, but for a politics nerd like me - highly enjoyable (I hope you don't think this is sick).
  
• A walk through an amazing food market and the best Pho (noodle soup) of my life.
• An intense shampoo and facial massage at a hairdressers. It took for years (yay!) and I was sure they were going to charge me more than the standard. They didn't, so I tipped.
  
• A nap at home to the soothing sounds of CNN.
  
• Evening: watching 'In Bruges' (a dumb but fun action/ comedy) in a luxury movie lounge attached to a coffee house, while drinking 'hot vanilla'.
  

Other awesome things lately:

• Watching Obama be inaugurated in a fancy bar atop a hideous building in Hanoi. Having various drunken epiphanies while this was going on and writing some of them (in fluro-yellow) in my moleskin. One example: "I see Republicans have just caught on to Pashmina."
  
• Walking through Hanoi thinking "fuck!fuck!fuck!" and "what is wrong with the Hanoians?! Why are they so mean all the time?!" and trying to cross the -impossible- road, when a dear old Hanoian lady softly holds my arm and guides me through the traffic, laughing and smiling at me. What a jerk (me, obviously).
  
• Getting a letter from my darling Opa (grandfather) telling me that of all the letters he received for Christmas, mine made him the happiest (asking to live with him). Also in the envelope was 15 Euro for the train to his house, so I don't need to change my money right away. For that, he deserves a large home-baked cheesecake.
  

This:



NB: In case this blog is giving the wrong impression, I actually love Hanoi and the people who call it home. It's just a very difficult place and on some days it drove me insane (ask any expat in Hanoi, they all have - "I don't like Vietnam" - days). Truly, Hanoi is stupendously beautiful and the Hanoians who are not involved in the tourism industry are honest (almost to a fault), loyal and generous. And wildly, wildly forgiving - considering what the West was up to in Vietnam only 30 years ago.

Things that are Sad.

Tonight is my last night in Hanoi and of course, I'm feeling attached and weird, and like maybe I could get along better with Hanoi if I tried. Maybe if I had a bit more patience, and if I walked around more at night when there's no one else and I could just look at the falling-apart French balconies, and the dimly-lit shuttered streets, without distraction.

I like how people put everything on their motorbikes, including: a TALL potted palm tree (this looked incredibly dangerous), 7 huge boxes of vitamin C and lately: lots of mandarin trees, in their pots. You know how we have Christmas trees in the West? Well, it turns out that totally sucks because here in Vietnam for New Years people get MANDARIN trees, with real mandarins on them, in a pot.

I feel really like crying when I think about these last seven months in Asia. I don't know. I feel like I understand a lot less than I (thought) I did before I left Dunedin.

Here's something I've been thinking anyway: Westerners (myself included) get really pissed off about constantly being ripped off by the Vietnamese - especially motorbike drivers, guest house owners and tour guides. In the case of the Xe Om (motorbike), often the amount isn't much - like maybe an extra $2 or so and the Westerner, myself included, will say: "But it's about the principle."

But then I've been thinking, that actually it's a huge luxury to think of money in terms of principle and not in terms of necessity - not in terms of providing something you physically need, like food. So, then if you had a case where one person was annoyed at getting ripped off on principle and the other gained something they needed, then you could maybe argue that the action was justified.

The difficulty in Hanoi is that poverty isn't at the base need level - we're not talking about food, clean water or education, at least not in most cases. Hanoi is quite rich. But: in the case of Xe Om drivers, and other 'working class' people, we are talking about: topping up cellphones, paying bills, getting a beer with your friends, providing guests with special treats, presents for your family for Tet, mandarin trees ...

All of these things can seem quite frivolous, and luxurious, when compared to the basic physical needs, but in a sense they are social needs, which is much more murky ground. In Vietnam, the ability to lavish gifts and treats on guests is highly important if you want to have friends and a social life of any kind. You need to buy presents for your family at Tet - just like it would be humiliating and awful for a family in New Zealand to not buy anything for their children at Christmas. So basically what we're dealing with is good old-fashioned 'lower-class', 'working class' poverty, which doesn't have the pornographic poverty appeal of a World Vision ad, but it's still important.

But then the question is: does this Xe Om driver's need to buy his little girl a Barbie for Tet justify him ripping me off?

Most days I would still say no, but tonight is my last night in Hanoi and I'm feeling especially generous...

Warm Fuzzies

image: Encyclopaedia Britannica. Hanoi's Old Quarter.

Two things which make me all warm and fuzzy lately:

Independent Fashion Designers: If you don't know, I am (theoretically) really opposed to sweat shops, although this opposition is somewhat difficult to put into practice in South-East Asia, where the sweat shop should really be on the national flags of: Thailand, Vietnam and China (especially China, of course). Lucky for me, there is a growing sense of "buy local" happening right here in Hanoi, where the products are beautiful and high quality and the woman who sewed it is right in front of you, chatting away on her cell-phone, twirling her curled hair through her fingers. If she has the expendable income to get her hair permed, that's good enough for me. And she is usually a fashion/ business student who will say something like "are you a member of the women's business club?" and then give me a discount, because I live in Hanoi and work, as a woman. Haha. Great! Needless to say, I have been supporting this 'cause' heavily, in preparation for my move to Germany.

Kittens: I don't really need to explain this one, since everyone (nice) loves kittens, even people who are allergic can't help it. But anyway: yesterday morning was shit. I am staying in a cheap, dodgy hotel currently where there was no hot water (it is really cold here at the moment), there was a screaming match between some Australians and the reception, breakfast was awful and over-priced and they had misplaced my laundry (they found it, sans my favourite leggings and covered in white paint... ?!). So I trudged downstairs in a foul mood when who should run into my path but a TINY black and white kitten! (It was so small it could have fit into my hand). Now, most kittens here are scared of humans (with good reason) but this one ran right up to me, crawled onto me and started purring. Suddenly, I was in a wonderful mood and could easily forget the trials of the morning - and even thanked the reception for all of their help.