Day 10

In contrast to the chaos and cacophony of Rome, the city center here is quiet and casual. Few panhandlers appear, and only rarely do we hear a street musician. Things are not quite uniformly white or perfectly, Teutonically orderly, but it is close: there are few blacks, few street vendors aside from those hawking theater tickets, no gypsies, a sprinkling of women in Islamic dress, and lots of Turks--which explains the abundance of kebab stands. The curse of European cities, however, is present: mimes. Although I was hoping to see one of Hitler, no such luck--Mozart and other music figures abound. (World War II does not exist here. I thought of Faulkner's comment that "The Past is not dead. Hell, it's not even in the past.") Women in dresses and heels are in evidence, but a man in a suit and tie is a rare sight. And, although women young and old are usually dressed pleasingly, many people tend to wear sloppy-casual, and some young men fit the stereotype: hiking shoes and black socks against white legs, blue shorts, stretched-out gray-white T-shirts featuring band names, and sunglasses with red plastic frames.

Vignettes

1. On a sunny sidewalk, near the city center, I walked behind two scruffy young men with backpacks, both staggering along; twice, one stepped out in front of traffic and the other pulled him by the sleeve back onto the sidewalk. They were taking turns drinking a foul-smelling liquid, smelling vaguely like ether, from what looked like a cough-syrup bottle. They giggled and sometimes burst out in loud laughs...then stood attentively at crossings, carefully observing the walk/don't walk signs.

2. A young woman--locally typical dark brown hair, fair complexion, and royal blue eyes--in a cool summer frock boarded the tram with a happy, plump baby in a large stroller, and sat across the aisle from me. The baby and I exchanged several smiles and raised eyebrows over the next three or four stops, and then the young woman addressed me in German as the tram stopped again. I indicated I could not understand and said, "English?" She replied in perfect, unaccented American English: "Can you help me? I need to get off." I stepped off the tram and took hold of the bottom of the stroller while she lifted from the top, and, as we set the stroller on the sidewalk, "Thank you very much." And a sweet, warm smile.

3. At the news kiosk by the Grinzing tram station:

I: "Herald Tribune"?
Vendor: "Zirty min."
I: (checking my watch) "Danke."
Vendor: "Sank you."
30 minutes later:
I: "Guten morgen. Herald Tribune?"
Vendor: "Goot morneeng."
I: (taking paper, handing him 3 euros): "Danke."
Vendor: "Sank you."
I: "Auf wiedersehen."
Vendor: "Gootbye."

4. In the deep of Sunday dusk, Linda and I were out strolling, exploring our neighborhood. Descending a deserted sidewalk on a rather steep hill on the outskirts of the village, we noticed another couple, middle-aged, in the shadows ahead of us. Apparently they had just parked their car and were heading arm in arm down the hill to the restaurant district, he in a dark suit and she in a silky, close-fitting, full-length dress of gold and floral pattern. As they walked on in the dark, his arm let go of hers, and his hand slipped behind her and squeezed her butt. They paused in the dark and kissed. Walking a few steps further, they turned into the open doors of a theater entrance. We passed them, we in the dark, smiling, they in the brightly lighted foyer, smiling, reaching for flutes of sparkling wine.