The Power of Python.

Monty Python movies are loved the world over and Poland is no exception. The man who translated these masterful British comedies into Polish is literally a legend in Polish cinema. Physical comedies like "The Naked Gun" series of movies are funny in any language but the subtle nuances of British humor are difficult to interpret when converting them into another language. Maybe the Polish readers can give the name of this master translator.

Which brings me to the overriding point of this post. John Cleese, is starring in a new commercial for a Polish bank. Since 2004, when the immigration restrictions to England were lifted for Poles, these two countries have been intertwined. How much economic clout do 600,000 immigrants have? Well, they must have a lot for this legend of comedy to agree to do a subtitled ad on Polish TV. Then again, it does make perfect sense that young Polish John Cleese fans would be in the market for a loan. The thinking behind advertising always mystifies me. But the ad is quite funny. Notice the cute make-up artist who has to step up on a box to reach Cleese's face (he's 6' 5"). She's obviously Polish. Check it out:


The "I was at Wembley in '73!" quote is an allusion to Poland knocking England out of the 1974 World Cup by playing them to a 1-1 draw in 1973 at Wembley Stadium. For my nostalgic Polish readers, I've included the vid. Amazing the stuff you can find on youtube.

My big fat Greek slideshow . . .

The company retreat in Greece exceeded all expectations. With the exception of the 10 inches of snow they received last weekend which effectively paralyzed the city (Schools were closed for THREE days!), and closed all of the archeological sites we wanted to visit, this Mediterranean country was breathtaking. However, I would spend less time in Athens, and more time island hopping.

Culinary options abound, and one can easily gain a few kilos devouring scrumptious cheese pies, fresh seafood, and sticky-sweet baklava. You might also save some room for the ubiquitous gyros stands, although I thought all true versions of this food would contain lamb meat. It was a bit disappointing to only find the choice of either chicken or pork.

Like most other European countries, the Greeks really know how to make a national beverage, or in this case, a few of them. After you get burnt out on ouzo, try a snifter of some 5 star Metaxa, or the national lager, Mythos. My personal favorite, however, was Tsipouro.

I think I speak for both of us (Luiza too) when I say that our favorite place we visited was the tiny island of Hydra. The unique enclave is home to only 40 year-round residents. No motorized transportation is allowed, so Hydra is also home to around 1,500 burros, and one mysterious bearded harbormaster. It was really nice to be there during the "off-season" as we were sometimes the only ones walking around the island's narrow streets or viewing the sunset from high atop an oceanside bluff.

As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words, so before I reach my limit, you might want to just check out this slideshow. It moves quite fast since I know some of you out there suffer from Adult Attention Deficit Disorder like me. And yes, they really did receive that much snow.

The allure of Ecuador.

The production team is still working on a report from Greece, so I will take this opportunity to congratulate a friend of mine on her new adventurous assignment in South America. If you recall this time last year, another friend, my former Middleton colleague Danielle was fresh from accepting a job in Ecuador. If you haven't read her blog, it's sets a much higher literary standard than the Chronicle. There is link to "The Good Life in Ecuador" in the right-hand column. You can also find a link to her husband's photo blog, Spork. Needless to say, it has been one adventure after another for them in this exotic place.

This year, another friend, and former colleague, albeit from my previous days schlepping pizza and beer in Fargo, has accepted a teaching position in Ecuador. Kit, who's been teaching in sunny southern California for the last two years has decided to take the plunge and move to Quito in July. I wish her the best of luck and maybe she will cross paths with the Richerts in the equatorial rainforest someday.


Of course, that means we here at AS-Dub are also welcoming some new staff for next year. There has never been a better time to enter the world of international teaching, as I learned from my principal this morning. She was relating the astounding fact that there were almost 1,100 jobs available at the Seattle job fair, and only 300 candidates attending the fair. The possibilities are limitless for a qualified educator wanting to travel the world. As for this ex-pat, I am quite happy in my own corner of Eastern Europe. There is still a vast area of this continent I have yet to see. Anybody want to go to Luxembourg?

On location in beautiful, but SNOWY?, Athens.

For the last couple days, snow has blanketed much of Greece and has threatened to put a damper on the holiday junket for Chronicle staffers. In fact, the planned outing at the Acropolis had to be postponed today because it was closed. We climbed the icy steps to the entrance and were turned around by signs informing us that Athens' most famous site was impassable due to slippery marble steps. What did Socrates, Plato, et. al. do when the weather turned a bit nasty? I can imagine these philosophers bundled up in their wool togas when temperatures plummeted to below freezing.

All is not lost, however, since we are headed to the islands tomorrow and there are some defrosting temps in the forecast. We are keeping a positive attitude as the strong Greek coffee and even stronger ouzo are keeping our insides toasty.

The Kielbasa goes on "holiday"

Well dear readers, I know that it seems like I was just on a lengthy vacation for Christmas break, but the calendar gods have once again bestowed a week off on the Chronicle staffers. So, I have no choice than to leave beautiful Warszawa blanketed with snow and head to Greece, home of the Olympics, ouzo, tavernas, and fragrant cheese. I am hoping that when our hiatus is ended, you will be regaled with tales of sunnier weather and stronger coffee. Luckily for you, the forecast calls for it to be a bit chilly so you will not be subjected to pics of me prancing around a black-sand beach in a Speedo.

As a bonus for taking the time to visit the Chronicle website today, I present to you the latest viral YouTube video that has spread like wildfire across this great nation. It has not quite reached cult status back in the states so I'm hoping that you will take the time to forward it to your friends and I will have played a small part in the advancement of 70's Czech kitsch. The version without English subtitles has received over 600,000 hits. I dare you to suppress a smile while watching "Jozem from the Bog".
SEE YOU NEXT WEEKEND! OPA!

Another venture into high culture . . .

Last night I attended my first ballet. I didn't really know what to expect but expectations were higher than when I attended my first opera back in December. There were a variety of reasons for this heightened anticipation, the foremost being an obvious difference in "agility" between opera singers and ballerinas. Operatic sopranos are not exactly renowned for there delicate grace. The opera is not over "when the amazingly flexible lady sings".

Chauvinistic comparisons aside, another reason that ballet is superior to opera is the lack of spoken words. Every emotion and plot twist is conveyed through dramatic movement. Yes, it can be a bit difficult to determine sometimes if a sweeping gesture ending in a skyward point means "I'm enraged!" or "I'm a superstar!", but it's much easier than trying to decipher words sung in Italian, and translated into Polish on the reader board.

You can read the synopsis of this production of LA BAYADÈRE here, but I will give you my shortened interpretation:

Scene I: Guy who looks like caveman dances around. Apparently he doesn't have much to do with the story but reminds me of Brendan Fraser in "Encino Man". Poor girl, escorted into the scene by caveman falls in love with rich man. They dance around, he lifts her up over his head in celebration because she only weighs about 90 lbs. and he prefers petite girls. Bald bad guy is standing behind a tree, sees this and points to the heavens to demonstrate his anger.

Scene II: Rich guy has to marry different girl because his father (old guy in huge turban) arranged the marriage. He's not happy because this girl is too big for him (she weighs about 105, which is obese by ballerina standards). Poor girl comes in, dances around at the wedding, and gets poisoned by the vengeful mother-in-law to be who puts a snake in her flower basket. Follicly-challenged villain is crushed because he also likes petite girls.

Scene III: This was the long, drawn-out, drug-induced dream sequence. Rich guy mourns the death of his true love. Trapped in an unhappy marriage, he turns to drugs, taking long drags off a hooka pipe. Has a few too many drags and passes out. Dreams about 27 ballerinas dressed in white tutus. Dances around in the afterlife with poor girl.

Final Act: Guy painted all in gold dances around in loin cloth. All females in the audience (including the one seated next to me) admire how good he looks, errr, I mean dances. The entire cast gets together for one more dramatic dance number, complete with explosions, lightning, and a floating Buddha. The temple is destroyed. Everyone dies. Rich guy and poor girl are reunited in heaven, which is apparently really smoky. The end.

My final observation about ballet is that all males should be required to wear a codpiece. I was fortunate enough to be sitting in the third row where it was possible to appreciate every subtle nuance of this production. This was both good and bad as I certainly enjoyed the exquisite beauty of the performers but was also subject to a close-up view of . . . hmmmm, how shall I put this? . . . the revealing nature of spandex.


Which leads me to this question. How does one become interested in being a male ballerina? I'm certain that a healthy share of these guys are straight. After all, wasn't the great Russian dancer, Mikhail Baryshnikov, a suitor of Sarah Jessica Parker's on Sex in the City? (I don't really know these things off the top of my head. We have a great research department at the Chronicle.) I think this video may explain a few things. Thanks for reading . . . have a good weekend!

What is Super Tuesday?

That was the question posed to me by one of my students today. I really didn't know how to answer that other than tell her that I am hoping it's the day when the REAL presidential election occurs. Of course, this led to the question of whether or not I am voting. I had to explain the caucus system and how it works, together with the fact that Idaho, as small as it is, has little effect on the outcome of the Democratic nomination. You ever have one of those teachers that you knew would get off track if you just asked the right questions? I'm afraid I have become that teacher. Usually these questions involve explaining popular American culture or why adults do certain things . . . most of these questions have no easy answers.

On a brighter note, I derived some sick sadistic pleasure at seeing the dance unit start in P.E. today. It's so nice to see middle schoolers doing the box waltz. Indeed, this is a "life skill" that I wish I had the chance to master at such a young age. Nothing has changed. You could hear the same complaints about the boys being too short and smelly, and the girls being too tall and stuck up. *SIGH* I'm glad those days are behind me.