Graffiti in Graz

Happy Halloween! Since Halloween is about transformation, if just for one night, I thought it would be a good time to post some of the transformative graffiti I've photographed in Graz. One of my classes here is on art in public spaces. In my opinion, several of these pieces qualify.

There are some amazing artists in the world of Graz graffiti. I like the Banksy style designs in particular. Here are a few of my favorites.

An Ode to the Older Ladies of Graz

They have ovaries of steel. To wit: today, I saw a lady who looked about 70 jaywalking across a busy street very, very slowly. A) jaywalking is a big no here and b) she absolutely had to walk past a crosswalk in order to get there. But that isn't the best example I've seen. It just reminded me of something that happened a couple of weeks ago.

I was walking home, and had to cross another very busy street. (This one, there's no way you could jaywalk it.) There was a woman, about 60 years old, standing next to the button you press for the walk sign. She was close enough that I would have had to get creepily close to press it, so I just stood next to her. Finally the light changed, and the street was clear...but the walk sign didn't come on. We stood there and waited. Finally, I asked her very politely, "Haben Sie es gedruckt?" (Did you press the button? in German).

She said, very indignantly, "Doch ich habe es gedruckt!" (Of course I pressed it!) Then she pressed it anyway, and the cross sign instantly came on. It is at this point she gained my eternal admiration, at much the same level and for the same reasons as Miss Piggy.

Without the slightest irony or self consciousness, she demanded, "Warum hast du nicht frueher gefragt!!" (Why didn't you ask me earlier!!)

Wow, lady. Just wow.

This. Is. ZUPPA!

Actually, while this is a post about soup, it is not Italian soup. It's just soup that is dramatic enough to justify Sparta puns. I have a mild cold, and that always makes me want soup. I was thinking about it anyway, but when Geoff said that if he was here, he would make soup for me (I hadn't even told him yet that I wanted some!), I knew I had to make some.

For getting over a cold, I like a nice, traditional chicken and vegetables soup. I already had potatoes that needed to be used, so that would be my grain. I bought carrots at the local farmer's market (also a beautiful rose), and then went to the Spar. I bought chicken stock cubes, since I've been looking for weeks without seeing any boxed or canned chicken broth. Then I decided to take the plunge and buy chicken breasts. I haven't bought any raw meat in the time I've been here, partially because I had trouble finding chicken breasts, my favorite, and partially because I was worried about using it all while it was still fresh. But today I found a pack of three fresh chicken breasts, and I just went for it. I thought that I would use part of them in the soup, which I was making several servings of, and part on a pizza. I love chicken on a pesto sauce pizza.

Once I got home and did some dishes, I opened the chicken so I could saute it before putting it in the soup. And boy, did I get a surprise: these were not sanitized American chicken breasts, precleaned until only the meat is left. No, they were full blooded Austrian chicken breasts, still on the bone and with skin on one side.

A note for those who haven't lived/cooked with me extensively: I have a weak stomach around meat. The smell of bacon cooking literally makes me nauseous. (I love cooked bacon, but never make it for myself because of this.) Nice restaurant food sometimes makes me gag, just because something about it arbitrarily feels wrong to me. And as far a preparing food goes-well, let's just say that Geoff and I made a chicken-and-pesto pizza a little before I left, with American style chicken breasts, and I asked him to cut up the meat, because it grossed me out.

So you can probably imagine how I felt about the chicken that now lay before me. But really, I didn't have much of a choice. And while I may not be good at handling raw meat, I am good at handling unpleasant situations.

I prepared the chicken. I tore off the skin with my bare hands. I first tried cutting it off the bone, then gave in and tore it off, again with my bare hands. I dry heaved many, many times. Then I cut the meat in soup/pizza sized pieces and sauteed it in olive oil, with garlic, pepper, and rosemary seasoning. I had a little for lunch, on toasted olive bread with pesto spread on it. It was delicious.

The whole experience was definitely not enjoyable, and I plan on avoiding having to prepare my chicken like that as much as possible, but at the same time I feel good about it. I can now say that despite my issues with meat, I eat it in full acknowledgment that it was once a chicken that died for me. I think that's a good thing to remember, even though it doesn't make me want to be a vegetarian.

After my chicken saga, I put water on to boil, adding the dripping from cooking the chicken. Once it was boiling, I added the boullion cube, then chopped potatoes once it had dissolved. I chopped carrots to be added next. And then...I realized I had forgotten onions and celery, and my soup just wouldn't be the same. I turned off the stove, left my housemates a quick note so they would know my stuff wasn't abandoned, and ran to the store.

But my epic soup adventure wasn't over yet. I found onions right away, but couldn't see celery anywhere. I made a couple loops of the vegetable section. Then I looked down at a low shelve near the floor, and I saw: the only bunch of celery in the entire Spar. I swooped it up, made it back home, and finished up my soup. I made enough for three bowls-one for now and two for later. It was the most effort I've ever put into a simple soup.

And that, I bet, is more than you thought you would ever read about a simple soup.

Ich habe dich lieb, Lendplatzmarkt. (I love you, Lendplatz Farmer's Market.)

Sorry this is sideways. I have a limited amount I can upload, so I don't want to redo it. The flowers were 30 cents a stem; the bottle was delicious pear juice.

Detail of the alter at a little church by the university. It dates back to the 16th century!

This is what I bought at the farmer's market. The green pepper was a gift! Such a nice lady. That's actually the second time I've been given free fruits and vegetables there. This is basically the choice: lower quality and more expensive at Spar/Billa/Hofer, or very inexpensive and farm fresh from incredibly nice people. Mmmm, so tasty.

I love stained glass.

I don't have any pictures of it, but last night was my first time in my trampoline jumping class! It is everything I wanted it to be. There was direction-we were learning things, not just happily bouncing away-and we also got to see the advanced class. They were doing things like almost touching the ceiling (in a high, high gym), doing perfect flips...it was both impressive and intimidating. It was also great exercise. My upper thighs and calves are sore today. And I also think it'll be great practice for Aikido: all of the advanced students had very healthy, aligned form with great extension.