Without a doubt Krakauer's ability to take hold of my soul and expose every emotional nerve to a torrent of literary onslaught has cemented him as one of my all-time-favorite authors. The truths Krakauer retells are so raw and so brilliantly structured that his words always leave me physically drained and perhaps a bit masochistically, desperately wanting more.
He has such an unique gift to reestablish realities that, at times, feel more real than my own that he could write a user manual for refrigerators and by the end of it, I would be questioning the philosophical foundations of society, and Where Men Win Glory does not disappoint.
In Where Men Win Glory, Krakauer tells the story of Pat Tillman's journey from a celebrated pro football player in Arizona to a sensitive army Ranger in Iraq and ultimately, his death in Afghanistan and the shameful attempt of the government to cover up the truth in the United States.
Trust me when I say that this book is worth your time because it is.
Recently, I completed a bucket list item that I didn't even know was on my bucket list, and let's be honest, aren't those the best ones? Those accomplishments that are penciled in in-between the lines are the adventures that remind us we are still living, and this is, without a doubt, an adventure worth living.
It was a morning, an afternoon, a night and then another morning and afternoon for champions. It was a lot of things, including cold, quaint, crowded, lively and oddly calming. It was a twenty-six hour train ride from Kolkata to Chennai through the beautiful Indian countryside with a German and Indian whom I knew and and an elderly Indian couple whom I didn't know as bunk-mates. It was twenty-six hours of eating food not purchased on the train, reading two nerdy, sci-fi books, editing videos for a conference of 300+ youth, admiring the countryside through one smudged window and listening to twenty hours worth of piano classical music consisting of a total of nine George Winston songs.
To be honest, the whole experience wasn't at all what I expected. The train and accommodations weren't at all what I expected. In fact, when I was told that this train ride had been booked, I didn't think much of it, at all, and perhaps I should have. Everything from the stained blankets to the dust and grime covered vent pumping out freezing air six inches from my face all night long, wasn't what I had in mind, because I hadn't really considered it at all. Did I mention that I had no idea what I was getting into, at all? Because I didn't...at all.
However, after an initial shock, it took me all of five minutes to adjust and love it. I loved it. Well, I loved every other second of it when I was trying to fall asleep in arctic temperatures in the middle of India with only a thin and questionably washed blanket to keep me warm and one bar of chocolate to comfort me. Once I fell asleep, I was out for good, and, quite possibly, one of the only individuals on the train to sleep a solid eight hours. For that, I thank my mother for driving me around late at night as an infant to calm me during my many tantrums, and now I usually drift off to sleep when riding as a passenger in any form of transportation, which I did in my date's car on the way home from prom, but that's another story for another time.
My twenty six hour train ride through India was an adventure that passed quickly in the company of amazing people and an endless stream of piano music. It was, at times, uncomfortable and questionable, but mostly it was calming and spontaneous. It was a chance to pencil in a bucket list item that I didn't even know I wanted to do, but now that I have, I've lived a little bit more life than anything I could have imagined on my own.
Buying books before the long journey.
And we are off.
Just, you know, brushing my teeth with my roomies.
Okay, well perhaps I wasn't abducted, and I didn't narrowly escape with my life, but Aliens did mark me for further study. Well, not just me, but my whole town.
The other night, my little farming community woke up to find one of the most mysterious phenomenons plaguing our planet --a CROP CIRCLE! It was found directly across from our thousand-year-old church in a Swiss-sized wheat field.
I don't want to be presumptuous, but I think it is fairly safe to say with moderate confidence that this news is the highlight of the next fifteen years of my life. I will be repeating this story with repetitive verve and increasing drama well into my foreseeable future. My friends will know it by heart, my family will shake their heads and my kid's friends will ask me to tell it again as my children sigh. This one isolated event, in my isolated town, has single handedly made me at least 40% more interesting during an "are there, or aren't there" debate. I no longer have to pull on my unexplained phenomenon repertoire as defined by Are You Afraid of the Dark. I, Sarah Elaine, have real life experience that will elevate my opinion in such matters to at least a semi-expert status.
Watch the video "Mysterious Crop Circle in Büsingen" below to see one stop in an extraterrestrial roadmap.
Since the video is in Swiss German, here is a run down:
The farmer on screen is upset over the damage because his farmer's insurance doesn't cover other-wordly vandalism. Then the reporter interviews a local crop-circle expert who claims this is the work of aliens. The expert then re-exaimins the wheat and finds a few broken stalks and then definitively claims that this was in fact the work of humans.
Basically, what I gathered from this video is that we will just never know.
So twenty years into my future as I am sitting around a campfire, waiting in a doctor's office or drinking tea with friends and the topic of close encounters comes up in the conversation, I will bide my time for the perfect moment when I will slowly lean in and quietly say, "Once, I basically abducted by aliens..."
As I was going through my unsorted photos from the last few months, I came across this gem from my trip to Venice, Italy in February. My coworker, Gina, and I decided to find a cheap restaurant to eat at for our last night since we both had about 5 euros in our pockets collectively. We stumbled upon a small pizza joint down a slightly abandoned alleyway that was refreshingly inexpensive. As we sat down at one of the four tables, we remarked at how nice it was to be out of the cold and off our feet at an off-the-beaten-path little pizzeria. Our conversation was limited to the inexpressive mumblings of two exhausted people who have been traveling for days in below freezing temperatures.
About 10 minutes before this picture was taken, a group of five policemen walked through the door and went straight to the counter to order. After a couple minutes one went over to the arcade games and started to play Pac Man.
Our hot drinks were delivered and accepted enthusiasm. Then Gina took a picture as I enjoyed my last macchiato in Italy.
When I put the camera away, I off-handly noticed that two of the police officers went upstairs to look for the bathroom. Aside from four teens sitting behind us, we were the only people in the small space, so everyone's movements and conversations were a part of your own. About 5 minutes later, we received our food, and approximately 9 minutes after this picture was taken everyone jumped to the sound of two rapid loud bangs outside the window. The force of the bangs was so strong that a window hanging fell down with a resounding clatter. As the two police officers at the counter pulled their guns, the one at the arcade game dropped what he was holding and pulled his gun and the two from upstairs rushed down with their guns drawn. They all rushed outside as we heard footsteps running away. We all looked around in confusion, asking the obvious both silently and loudly, "What was that?!?"
As my exhausted mind muddled through the events, everything suddenly clicked into place and the real progression of the last 20 minutes became clear: The police officers briskly walked in and approached the counter to most likely ask to see a certain individual. As two of the officers walked upstairs to search the place, another went to the arcade game to open the back and check for drugs. The two officers upstairs must have gotten a little too close for comfort as someone(s) bolted out the back and perhaps there was a sixth policeman guarding the back door who shot off two warning shots as the someone(s) ran away.
In our effort to save a few bucks, Gina and I stumbled upon one of the minor Venetian mafia families. Or so that's the story I like to tell. One way or another, this picture may not tell the whole story but it is definitely worth 20 minutes of blockbuster worthy memories.
Meet my friend Madison. We have been besties since 6th grade. We met during 2nd period P.E class when everyone was either sprinting around the track or gossiping in huddled groups, and then there was Madi and me --two people living in their own worlds, jogging at a reasonably motivated walking pace while staring off into space. Our worlds collided, and then for the following 13 years there was chaos, and now there is this video. I can only imagine that it was all of those half jog/walk laps around the track that set her up for this fame. She is the one in the pink tights to the right of the instructor. Enjoy.
Madi, when you see this just know that it is because I care, and that this is my favorite video of all time.
When you visit Portugal, you absolutely cannot miss out on the historical town Sintra. I spent all day roaming the streets and visiting two of the many castles in the municipality. My favorite site was the colorful Palace Pena, which was once a crumbling monastery that now boldly sits on top of the hill, Serra de Sintra, overlooking the town. In 1838, King Ferdinand II bought the property and built the castle as his summer residence. The architecture is stunning, the colors are vibrant and the price is reasonable. I will have more info and pictures to follow, but for now, I wanted to share with you my favorite picture of the day. This little alcove on the side of the palace is the entryway to the chapel built for the royal family.
At the end of fall, many Europeans celebrate the new spring by "sweeping away" the evil spirits of the winter with the celebration of Fasnacht, which translates to "almost night" and in certain areas, it is also referred to as Carnival. So every February, towns, cities and villages alike host huge parades with outrageous costumes, including witches to do the sweeping (usually worn by men), pretzels, candy, music and lots and lots of confetti.
Everyone comes out to admire the elaborate costumes and enjoy an afternoon of utter chaos. Apparently, the Fasnacht celebration in my village is the last one of the year, so people from all over Germany and Switzerland gather for one last hoorah and it was amazing. It was an outrageous time that I would characterize as a production rather than just a parade by American standards.
When the Fasnacht parade came to my little village in Büsingen, Germany, I was warned of all the hazards if I attended and watched from the street level. During the parade, personal boundaries no longer exist, and the people in costumes will pick up onlookers and carry them away, rub confetti in their hair, steal shoes, scarves and hats --rules are tossed out and everything goes. Of course, this only peaked my curiosity and I found myself up front and center for the entire 3 hours, and I did not walk away unscathed. I have a couple hundred photos and videos from the entire day, but I thought I would share a brilliant photo essay of the ridiculousness that was. All in all, such a good time. If you find yourself in Europe during this time, you can't miss out on this experience.
Involuntary face canvas: check.
Hair tie stolen: check.
Hay rubbed into my hair: check and check.
As I mentioned before, personal boundaries are non existant. "Oh I have never met you before? Sure go ahead and do what you think is best with that confetti."
This was one of the more tame and gentle interactions.
It rained minutes after the parade ended, some of that confetti is still on the sidewalks.
Used and abused.
All photos and videos are courtesy of GINA POTTENGER!
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