It's pretty shocking that after four months in a new place I haven't managed to blog about it. But that's because I really haven't got out and about in Edinburgh due to the time pressure of being a student. Hopefully that's now better under control and my New Year's Resolution is to revive my blog and post stuff.
So yesterday I went for a walk. Hopefully I can still remember how to use Typepad and get back to blogging about my student life.
And remember to update the Librarything widget showing that I still haven't finished the books I was reading two years ago, and probably am never going to finish them now.
It's amazing how my blog still keeps getting visitors even though I haven't added anything recently. Some of the content must be interesting to some people at least.
Since the Austro-Hungarian war records were mostly destroyed at the end of WWI, there seemed little hope of tracing my paternal grandfather, who died somewhere during the war, serving in the army, according to my father. He only mentioned this once (at least to me) and I interrupted him in the story, I was so surprised. So he never continued. Mea culpa.
The remaining war records are stored in Prague and can be searched here. I assumed that they only would contain information on Czech regiments so I had never bothered to search until a few days ago.
As usual I plugged in the two surnames my father was known by: Kosmyryk and Suknowicz, expecting nothing. To my surprise Kosmyryk appeared twice in the search. Now this name, the one I grew up with, has never been found by Google, (not counting me, my two sisters and this blog) or on any genealogical search. So we assumed it was a made up name or a badly transliterated Cyrillic name. The story of why my father changed from Suknowicz to Kosmyryk has two versions but attempts trace the documents adopted by my father backwards in time have always failed to produce anything.
But now from the Czech archives we have this information:
Stefan Kosmyryk was listed as wounded on 8 October 1915 and then died on 30 November 1915. He was born in 1889 in the town of Pniow, in the Nadworno district of Galicia. Stefan was serving in infantry regiment 15 in the 12th company.
So it seems Nadworno is not far from Stanislau (Stanislawov, Ivano-Frankovsk).
So who is Stefan? A brother of Mikhail, the supposed grandfather's name? Or have the Suknowicz and Kosmyryk families merged their histories in my father's mind.
Another puzzle: where was he injured? The Eastern Front in 1915 in the Carpathians seems to have ended in September. Too bad to be injured after the end of the campaign season. But it seems that the 15 th Infantry regiment was not stationed near its home and doesn't seem to have been fighting on the local front.
The cold weather was quite a shock last week in Brussels, where rain and grey skies are the usual complaint about the weather.
But for me, a bigger shock was the number of homeless sleeping rough on Rue de la Loi, the main windy street whose buildings house the European Commission. Of course, we callous Brits with our Anglo-Saxon economics and politics became used, under Thatcher and later, to people sleeping in sleeping bags on cardboard in doorways. Even "cardboard cities" grew up under railway bridges. And charities set up extra soup kitchens in cold weather for them.
True, I haven't been to Brussels for a long time, so the growth of the homeless sleeping rough near the Commission may have been gradual. But for me it was a shock that here in the heart of Europe, this is what we have already come to, with years of austerity still to come. Perhaps the only thing to be thankful for, is that the main austerity economies are in the south, so sleeping rough is not exposed to such extremely cold temperatures.
And here is another chilling tale, full of sound and fury, signifying something at least.
I was listening with half an ear to Mezzo this morning, when some ghoulish singing stopped me in my tracks and locked me in front of the TV. Afterwards I rushed off to google "Cold Song" by Purcell to find out more about this haunting music that sounded like the teeth chattering of the homeless. It was actually Andreas Scholl singing on Mezzo, but this alternative recording by Klaus Nomi in costume is far more shocking and moving.
It's from the opera King Arthur by Purcell. Here are the words:
———- Purcell’s Cold Genius ———–
What power art thou, who from below Hast made me rise unwillingly and slow From beds of everlasting snow See’st thou not ( how stiff )2) and wondrous old Far unfit to bear the bitter cold, I ( can scarcely move or draw my breath )2) Let me, let me freeze again to death.3)
from Roger Bourland's notes here. Bourland makes it even more poignant by pointing out that Nomi died afterwards from Aids related complications, and his gaunt appearance from illness only adds to the music.
Listen and weep. I would say pray, but to whom? Such heartless gods in Europe at the moment.
In Britain we are very conscious that an essential part of Christmas is the Queen's Speech to the Commonwealth. When I say essential, I mean it is essential to decide whether the family will watch it or not. As a child we always listened to it on the radio with my mother. I am sure my father did not hold with such royalist notions.
These days, extracts are relayed on the BBC News in any case, so you get the gist of it whether you like it or not.
At lunch today we were discussing the invasion of Russians to Vilnius over the New Year. It seems that all the hotels and restaurants were full. They came in civilised family groups and their main requirement was a plasma TV to watch Putin's New Year Speech and champagne to drink with it.
My informant could not say whether the speech was favourably received, which left me with some unanswered questions:
Was it prerecorded so without any reference to the demonstrations?
Is it too early to predict an "Annus Horribilis"* for next year's speech?
Was it acceptable to boo in front of the children, and in a foreign country?
And what did he say anyway? I seem to have slept through an important message.
*One year, the Queen complained about her Annus Horribilis (horrible year) in her Christmas message. True there had been a fire in the Castle (someone smoking in bed, the rumours were) and her children all got divorced rather publicly and crossly. Since most people were taking Diana's side, the discussion afterwards was all about how families had coped with their own Anni Horribili, and theirs had definitely been worse, without the money at her disposal.
Despite having all the kit, I have never managed to get used to listening to music on earphones. So I almost never use my iPhone or iPad for listening to music on a plane. I have proper speakers with a dock at home and the sound is much better.
For the same reason I can't really ever get on with podcasts.
I didn't realise why, until a friend said he didn't like stuff in his ears, and I have to say I feel the same. I guess those big ear muffs might be better, but I don't like the idea of going round with boxing gloves on my head. Nor do I like feeling it's a bit dangerous not to hear what's going on in the background.
I am 64 and wondering what I am going to do next in my career. I have plenty of work and nobody thinks about my retiring, but I am a bit bored after doing more or less the same job since 1994 (17 years). Before that, the longest I ever stayed in the same job was 9 years, even though the work changed every one or two years.
Wu Wei has been my personal blog since January 2005, which has followed my home moves from Greece back to the UK to Lithuania, and my work moves from Kosovo, Bosnia, Serbia, Montenegro, Ukraine, Turkish Cyprus, and for the last 4 years to Georgia (Caucasus). Its title came from my interest in the Tao, my need for some way to understand life's buffeting as I grappled with temporary contracts in different countries and tried to keep a stable life for my growing kids.
I used to blog when I was sitting bored, either at home (doubting about my next contract) or in a hotel room in a strange country, but Georgia is no longer strange, and I have friends and a life as well. My blog seems to have a life of its own, with the popular posts remaining with large numbers of hits (it seems there are still plenty of people who want to know about Greek horta and reviews of Albanian novels about blood feuds).
My family history (the Eastern European father of known but mysterious provenance) and my own early adventures (travels, marriages, homes in various parts of the UK) are still a work in progress, but being written. Family photos are nearly all scanned but not yet forming any story.
I now communicate with blog friends by Facebook and twitter, or even in person sometimes. So the blog has been rarely updated recently.
But now I feel the urge to write stuff again. My contract in Georgia is coming to an end, I am wondering whether to go back to university for a year, my ailments are growing and my kids are independent. Life in Russia is getting more interesting to comment on. Thanks to Bee studying social anthropology and learning Arabic, my holidays are more exotic than my work these days.
So what next? I thought I would explore that on the blog. So maybe I could find encouragement and a different set of blog friends. I hope my younger blog friends will not mind the occasional (hopefully) foray into diet restrictions, illnesses and any memory lapses. Probably there will be some changes in the design of the blog to keep my IT skills up to date. Irritation and rants will be as normal (being a feature of most people's blogs) but hopefully they will not take over, indicating I am becoming a grumpy old person.
I have only one friend older than me, and while I am very fond of her, it is difficult to discuss careers and ageing with only one person available. So I decided to look for blogs on ageing, or at least blogs from older people who are still active, and willing to discuss ageing issues. So links may increasingly go to those blogs.
Best wishes for the New Year. As the Chinese curse has it, may we all live in interesting times.
Via Murad Kharaishvili
Georgian Airlines. Flight attendant:
- Уважаемые пассажиры! Наш экипаж приветсвует вас на борту нашего авиалайнера. За ваш комфорт и безопасность командир зкипажа поднимает свой первый тост ...
)))))))))
Dear passengers! The crew welcomes you on board our plane. For your comfort and safety the captain will now raise his glass for the first toast ....
Perhaps this joke is only funny if you are in Georgia and have come home from a huge dinner and lots of toasts.
Yet again, the best service no matter what the request.
I was home for the weekend and on Sunday needed to print a 30 page report for editing, but suddenly no ink left in the cartridge. What to do?
I consulted the oracle, Vilnius in Your Pocket, (now available on the iPhone) and found the nearest internet cafe. In fact practically the only internet cafe in the centre, since Vilnius is maybe 10 years past the stage where teenage boys have nowhere to go and nothing to do but sit in internet cafes all day (unlike Pristina and Lefkosia). Lack of business custom meant it was closed on Sunday even in the tourist season.
Again what to do?
Needing lunch (it was 3 pm), I decided to try my luck at the Shakespeare, since I could guarantee a good lunch at least and maybe they would help. Aurimas the receptionist instantly offered to print, and when we had difficulty printing from my USB, lent me a laptop to get at the file another way. After 15 minutes, the problem was solved, I had ordered lunch and was busy proof reading over a glass of wine.
I did feel a bit cheeky, using a smart hotel as an internet cafe, when I wasn't even staying there. But it wasn't a problem for them, as usual they were happy to help. Their computer even listed which rooms I had stayed in, in the past, which we found, when they made me an invoice.
After all that help, I was amazed to be offered a big discount for lunch because it was Sunday.
Better value I doubt if you can find anywhere. Highly recommended as always.
