Last week, airBaltic was heralded at a local conference of top Latvian businesses for its online presence. However, companies like airBaltic need to realize that simply being savvy with social media is not enough. Ultimately, all the facebook friends/fans or twitter followers in the world don’t mean a thing if the company does not treat their clients with dignity, fairness, and respect. If social media is going to be their thing, then maybe they should be a little more… well… sociable.

One of my biggest complaints since moving here to Riga has been the operations of the local dominant airline, airBaltic. AirBaltic operates about 70% of the flights coming into and out of Riga, so there is often no alternative option. Additionally, airBaltic’s parent company is none other than the Latvian government itself. The fact that the government owns a majority stake of the company means that the odds of additional competitor airlines are about as likely as finding sunbathers on the sands of the Bay of Riga in mid-December.

I’ve made phone calls, I’ve sent emails, I don’t know what else to do… so here it is: a blog post expressing my frustrations. I apologize in advance for its length, but I wanted to be thorough. In the past, airBaltic has been more responsive to twitter complaints than they have to real life complaints (see my twitter feed for evidence). This leads me to believe that they are somewhat concerned with their online reputation. My hope is that this post might get enough attention from airBaltic or from the online community to present some sort of remedy to this problem. Maybe, just maybe, the airBaltic higher-ups will be made aware of what a shoddy operation they are running… but my fear is that they will not care in the least, as long as the profits keep rolling in because they’re the only name in town.

I’ve had my problems in the past with airBaltic. It seems that they have so many unsold seats that, at a certain point, they just cancel the flight altogether, and give very little consideration or flexibility to passengers on rescheduling flights. When an airline cancels a flight because of non-mechanical or non-weather related reasons, it becomes their responsibility to ensure that their customers are satisfactorily rescheduled. This is not the case at airBaltic. I have now had three flights with airBaltic canceled, two within 24 hours of departure. But this third one is the one that has made me reach my tipping point.

I’m tired of dealing with an airline where, as a customer, I don’t matter; like my time and money are worthless. AirBaltic doesn’t even have a toll-free phone number to speak with a customer service representative. To get that privilege, one needs to shell out .37Lvl/minute  (over $.70/minute). Considering that every time I’ve called to speak with a representative, I’ve been placed on hold for approximately 30 minutes or more, that can get to be some serious cash.

The specific problem is as follows, outlined point by point in an email sent to airBaltic on the afternoon of Wednesday, March 23. The email also documents the complications with securing a Russian visa that led to me canceling my flight.

If you don’t want to read it all, here’s the summary:

I was unable to fly to Moscow because of complications with my passport and visa at the Russian embassy. AirBaltic instructed me to send documentation of this from the Russian embassy visa office , along with copies of my passport and original flight itinerary, and I will be given a full refund. I sent all requested documents, and yet was denied a refund. The ticket price that I am asking to be refunded was $215.43, but more than anything, it’s the principal of being treated unfairly, time after time.

See below for the full email to the airBaltic representative. I’ll be sure to update with any progress.

Hello,

Even if it's not spot-on, we get the idea

However, this “unmatched sock” situation is only true for conversations where I remain an outside, 3rd party. The moment I engage myself into the conversation, a quick transfer to English- or at very least an attempt- is likely to follow.

Or imagine this scenario, sure to be familiar to anyone who’s traveled even a little bit outside the native English-speaking world. Let’s say you’re walking through a market in AnywhereLand where they speak AnywhereLandian. AnywhereLand could be a major, westernized society, or it could be an isolated, non-westernized society… it doesn’t matter. But you’re there and you’re walking through the market. You pick up a small craft and, in pleasant AnywhereLandian, the shopkeeper asks you a question. You can guess that he’s asked if he can help you, but his AnywhereLandian just sounds like gobbledegook to you. Still, you infer the meaning and reply in English with, “No thank you. I’m just looking.” Instantly, the shopkeeper switches to English, which, despite the accent, is perfectly understandable, and offers you more information about the craft you’re holding in your hands. You ask if it was made locally, and the response is adequate, yet you can sense the shopkeeper’s frustration at his limited English vocabulary. His next sentence is an apology for not being able to think of the words and you feel a sense of his shame at his inability to speak more fluently in English. You assure the man that his English, no matter how broken, is wonderful- and certainly much better than your AnywhereLandian. As for you, you’re in his country and you’ve only learned how to say “cheers” and “thank you” in AnywhereLandian. Yet he’s the one apologizing to you for not speaking better English.

In the past few decades, English has emerged as an international connecting language. For example, last night, I was at a party hosted by a Norwegian man, and in attendance were people from England, Germany, USA, Canada, Chile, Argentina, and of course, a lot from Latvia… I’m sure to be missing some nationalities as well. These sorts of international gatherings are commonplace in my world, and they’re able to happen because of the ubiquitousness of the English language. In fact, I’ve even been engaged in a conversation after meeting someone for the first time and been complimented on my English. I, of course, then reveal that I’m from the US and that my English should be very good… I’ve been practicing my whole life.

As a teacher at an international school, I’m able to see the English language as a key to success for so many top students. If a student wants to be as successful as he or she can be, this means becoming very proficient with English. Especially in a small country like Latvia, where (according to wikipedia) there are only 1.4 million Latvian speakers, an ability to be conversational in English is pivotal to creating opportunities for one’s own success.

And so, we have English emerging and firmly establishing itself as the international language for cross-cultural communications, be they professional, social, educational, or otherwise. For certain, with the growing universality of the internet, this trend will continue to be even more widespread.

This sounds great, right? One big happy world where we can all communicate openly no matter what our language of origin. And imagine my luck; of the thousands upon thousands of languages that are spoken in the world, I happen to have been brought up speaking THE “chosen language” as my native tongue. Without a doubt, this has been an enormous boon to my global pursuits. Yet, I can’t help but be a little unsettled by this as well.

Only 50 cents is enough to feel the magic atmosphere

There’s a joke that goes as follows:

Q. What do you call someone who speaks two languages?
A. Bilingual

Q. What do you call someone who speaks three languages?
A. Trilingual

Q. What do you call someone who speaks one language?
A. American

And for the majority of Americans this is true. While I might be able to stumble through a conversation in Spanish with the grace of a baby hippo on ice skates, that’s the closest I get to being even bilingual. I might know some words or phrases in other languages, but, to paraphrase Aristotle, one phrase does not a language make. I know this is true for most Americans as well. Maybe we studied a language in high school, but for most people, that’s as far as it goes. Of course, there are exceptions to this rule, but they are just that- exceptions. Within my international social gatherings, it’s normal for a person to be conversational in three, four, or even more languages. Two is bare minimum- native tongue and English. And then there’s me. Just English.

There are, of course, reasons for this. Primarily, Americans typically only speak one language simply because we don’t need to speak anything else. Think of it this way. The continental US is roughly the size of Europe. If each state (or even region) of the US spoke its own language, like countries and regions in Europe, then certainly, you’d have a lot more multi-lingual Americans. And of course, I realize that the diversity of the US allows for communities to exist where you can walk the streets without hearing or reading a word of English, but by and large, we “speak American.”

I know, this should be a good thing. I’m fortunate that I can go nearly anywhere in the world and find people who speak my language. But still, I can’t help but feel like this as much a curse as it is a blessing. If I had grown up speaking another language, I’d have almost certainly have learned English, and hopefully would have a strong mastery over the language as most of my international friends regularly demonstrate. I feel lazy and sometimes incompetent with my ability to speak only one language.

The natural response to this is, “Dude, just learn a new language. Your own laziness is the only thing keeping you from doing it. If you want to speak more languages, then work for it, study it, practice it, and you will.” I admit, this is true. But it’s not quite as simple. If I choose to study a language, it is because I want to do it, not because I need to do it. And that “want versus need” distinction is huge when talking about incentive to learn. I see this with my international students. If they want to be most successful after high school, they need to learn to be very proficient with English. For me, the list of reasons to learn additional languages is extensive, but none of them are a necessity to my success in the world. I have been motivated to learn more languages, and have ventured into studying both Latvian and Russian to various degrees, but this pursuit is more like a mental exercise or a hobby than anything else. It feels like a hobby because the truth is, I don’t need to speak anything other than English.

Ultimately, I know that there are more advantages to disadvantages to being a native English speaker. I’m able go almost anywhere in the world, find someone under the age of 35, and have a good shot at being understood when I speak my native language. This is a wonderful thing. But I can’t help but wonder what sorts of linguistic and cultural opportunities are lost by my inability to more effectively communicate in more than one language.

So let’s now return to the market in AnywhereLand.

If you identify more with the shopkeeper who switches from AnywhereLandian to English, and then apologizes for not being more fluent, realize that the English speaker is not ignorant to your efforts. The English speaker understands that no matter how broken your English might be, the fact that you’ve made an effort to learn something is likely more than can be said of what the English speaker has learned in any language other than his own.

If you identify more with the native English speaker, consider how fortunate you are that the world speaks your language, but also consider what is sacrificed in this lingual process too. Consider, if you will, what is “lost in translation.”

Anyway, on the bus ride from Galway to Dublin, I was inspired to write a little verse based on my experience, preparing for my Shakespeare unit at school, I opted to write a sonnet in pentameter. In the end, I know I’m no poet, but sometimes I like to pretend.

A Night On Inishmore

Dun Aengus, Black Fort, time’s not forgotten,
Grey stones hand-laid, bring forth the isle’s steward.
Do as fathers’ fathers’ twice begotten.
Leaves of grass, the succor sprawls ‘cross the yard.
Fruit of the vine for bovine and equine,
Graze along shores; seas bespeckled with skiffs,
Incantations to ichthean divine.
Wing’d denizens soar Acropolian cliffs.
Perched on a shelf, I face mortality.
To toe that perilous line of demise;
To stir the cauldron of vitality.
Errant Aran past cedes to shutt’ring eyes.
I shiver ‘gainst the tempestial air;
Leo stalks round his celestial lair.

Click to view slideshow.

Vienna's State Opera House

During my visit, I saw a dual performance of Cavalleria Rusticana and Pagliacci, by Pierto Mascagni and Ruggero Leoncavallo, respectively. My Vienna opera experience, particularly Pagliacci, turned out to be the highlight of my entire visit; however, there are a few things that I wish I knew about purchasing standing room tickets beforehand. Here, I’ll provide a few quick pointers on how to go about buying the cheap seats to some of the best opera performances on the planet.

The first thing you’ll need to do is find the correct entrance for standing room tickets. Facing the building, the entrance for standing room ticket purchases is on the back, left-hand side.

For each performance, there are over 600 standing room tickets available, so if you just want to check things out and say you’ve been to a performance, no reason to spend half the day waiting in line. But if you want to optimize your chances at getting a good spot for seeing an entire performance, you’ll need to pay attention to timing and be willing to devote several hours to the process. In general, be prepared to wait, but also be prepared to boogie once you give your ticket to the ticket collector.

Tickets go on sale about 80-90 minutes before each performance. As most performances start at 7:30, this means standing room seats begin to go on sale at around 6:00. However, the line usually begins to form around 5pm. Of course, this all depends on the day, the show, and the specific performance. If the entrance is not open yet, a line will begin to form outside. If the entrance is open, you will go down a short hallway where you will queue in a waiting room. Locals will be seen making themselves comfortable, seated on the floor, with something to read (I actually saw a guy with one of those little collapsible 3-legged camping stools, not a bad idea). It’s smart to pack something to eat for your waiting time as well. You can buy food once inside, but it’s not cheap. I arrived around 5:15 and there was already a good-sized line in front of me.

Once the tickets begin to be sold, the line will move quickly at first, then you’ll wait again; then you’ll move; then you’ll wait… etc. This is your first of 3 waiting periods. When you finally do get to the window, there are 3 options for tickets: Parterre (4 Euro), Balcon (3 Euro), and Galerie (3 Euro). Parterre is at the floor level, and if you are early enough, offers you the best vantage point. However, these spots can get very crowded and not everyone will have their own section of rail to lean against. Balcon is the second level, with standing room spaces to the sides of the stage. Most of these spaces will have a partially obstructed view. Galerie seats are at the top level, but offer the best acoustics and a chance for a full stage view. Also, every space at the balcon and galerie level is well-sized and you get your own section of velvet padded railing along with a personal “subtitle” digital box to read the libretto from the performance. So unless you are uber-early, my advice is to go for the galerie seats. This was the advice given to me by the “band-geeky” looking local student in line before me. He spent his waiting time reading the bios of famous opera stars and even had some of the autographs within his book. I think this guy knew his stuff.

Which leads me to my next point: find someone who looks like they know what they’re doing (they will be dressed nicer than most tourists) and do as they do. Often the tourist herds blindly follow the pack, sometimes leading to less than optimal results.

IMPORTANT: You can only get 1 ticket per person. This means that everyone who wants to see the performance MUST wait in line. You CANNOT just take a volunteer from your group to wait in line and purchase tickets for everyone.

Once you receive your ticket, you will need to go to different sections of the theater depending on which section you have purchased. Again, find someone near you in line with the same type of ticket, and follow close behind. For my galerie seats, I went from the ticket window to the right down a hallway, then up a set of stairs. Then I found myself in the main entrance to the theater. At the bottom of the stairs there will be ushers taking tickets and directing you towards the right staircase. Once you give them your ticket, you’ll go up another set of stairs where you will enter your 2nd waiting period.

At this point, the organized queue is gone. There will be a jumbled mass of people waiting on a wide staircase. Here, if you can nonchalantly slide up past a few people without being rude, go for it. This will put you in a better position for an optimal standing space once the line begins to move again. About 45 minutes before the performance begins, the lines will begin to move again. This part is important, it’s at this time that your chance at an ideal spot is had or missed.

People will begin to move, some moving very quickly. Again, stick with the locals who look like they know what they are doing. Some will be a half-stride short of an all-out run, but in a restrained “I need to keep good manners at the opera” kind of way. Unless you are at the very front of the stairway line, don’t file into the center doors with the masses. Instead, choose one of the entrance just to the right or left sides. Now quickly scan the scene and do your best to find a spot that best-negotiates the combination of first standing row and most towards the center. The more towards the right and left you get, the more obstructed your view will be. The further back you get, the less room you will have and the less optimal your viewing path will be. So move it as quickly as possible to a prime space. Each space at the galerie and balcon level will be marked with its own personal digital text reader.

Personal digital text reader at every seat and standing space

Once you have found your space, you will need to mark it (remember, you still have about 45 minutes until the show begins). Locals will mark their spot by wrapping a scarf around the railing. You’ll see how it works, and I recommend you do the same thing. If you don’t have a scarf, a bandana or anything else to wrap around the railing will work. Once you have your space properly reserved, now you can relax. This is your final waiting period. You probably still have all your stuff with you (a jacket, maybe a bag of some kind). Now you can go and check these things. Also, if you’d like, you can rent binoculars for a fee of 2 Euro (recommended if you are at the uppermost level).

Don’t worry about your space, your scarf marking your territory will be widely respected and no one will remove it or steal it. Use this time to walk around and see parts of the opera house as it is a remarkably beautiful building. Part of the building goes back to the 1800s, and part of the building was destroyed during WWII and rebuilt during the 1950s.

So in summary, some quick tips:

• Arrive between 2.5-2 hours before curtain
• Be prepared to wait, then be prepared to move it
• Pack a dinner and something to read
• Find a local who knows his stuff and follow suit
• Do your best to dress-up; casual clothing is accepted, but certainly not sportswear or shorts/sandals
• Unless you are super early, go for galerie seats. If you’re one of the first, go for parterre
• Don’t worry about checking your stuff until AFTER you’ve reserved your space
• The standing room area can get warm during the performance, be prepared to shed layers if possible
• Julius Meinl is a great cafe nearby. Please resist the Starbucks across the street from the opera house; you’re in Vienna.

That’s it. If you ever get to visit Vienna, I think a performance at the opera is a must. Enjoy the show. I’m not a huge opera person, but my night at the operain Vienna proved to be the perfect conclusion to my visit.

Pagliacci Cast

Below is a piece from Pagliacci, with the title role performed by Pavaratti. Jose Cura played this role at the performance I saw, and he was phenomenal.

The first one is this super hipster, punky chick. On the weekends, and frequently weekdays too, she likes to hang out at hot spots all over town in the latest up and coming neighborhoods. She’s into indie rock and also gets down with both old school and new wave punk. Often, she talks about partying in abandoned warehouses with her friends, who incidentally, all seem to be DJs. That’s how cool this chick is- all her friends are DJs. As a result, she was really into creative mash-ups and mixed tapes. When she’s out, her drink of choice is a tall, dunkel in the winter, and a smooth weizen in the summer. If she’s in the party mood, this chick will throw back Jager shots like nobody’s business. Her look is hipster-chic, but she also has this very alluring punk side to her, as evidenced by the streak of bright pink in her otherwise dark auburn hair. Back in college, she used to perform in local cabaret shows. She doesn’t own a car, but if she needs to get somewhere out in the countryside, she drives her parents’ old Volkswagen. Oh, speaking of her parents, she doesn’t really like talking about them too much. From what I can tell, it seems her family has made some bad decisions that go back a couple generations, and only recently have they been able to set themselves straight. As far as she is concerned, though, this stuff is ancient history, and she’s striding towards the future smiling. She’s also an incredible conversationalist; she can wax philosophical about the likes of Nietzsche or Goethe, discuss with prowess local politics (as well as display an in-depth understanding of various party platforms), or tune you in to the next big thing in music. To try to impress her, I sometimes pretend to be more knowledgeable about these things than I really am, but I’m pretty sure she can see right through me.

The next girl has a simple, unspoiled beauty to her that shines without the need for any makeup for fancy clothes. Not only is she stunningly pretty, but she’s wicked cool, and incredibly diverse. She plays on a women’s ice hockey team, but also is into knitting. I guess she might be described as having a timeless Bohemian look about her with her flowing skirt, abundant, yet simple jewelry, and long dark hair set off by her piercing blue eyes. She always seems to have a colorful scarf around her neck, and never goes anywhere without something to read and her sketchpad. She also dabbles around with painting, though she says it’s nothing serious. In the wintertime, she goes cross-country skiing on the weekends, and in the summer she plays ultimate Frisbee. She reads Kafka and Kundera while drinking red wine, but her regular drink is a frosty Pilsner when she’s out with her friends. Her favorite meal is a giant potato pancake stuffed with cabbage and ham. Most of the time, she listens to shoe-gaze rock like Death Cab for Cutie or Sufjan Stevens, but occasionally, she opts for the classics from Dvorak. I met her in a tea shop, and she’s the kind of girl that makes me feel cooler just to be seen talking to her. I want to be as artsy chill as she is, but I can’t help but feel I come off more than a little “faux-hemian.”

The last woman I met on my trip is just drop-dead gorgeous and oozing with class. She’s in a supermodel category way out of my league, but I’m glad she humored me by spending a few minutes letting me get to know her. She is all about style, fashion, and everything about her says opulence. Typically, this kind of woman is not my style, but something about her combination of aristocratic heritage combined with her approachable and friendly style made me melt in her presence. By day, she can be found reading in classy cafes with old, smoky, velvet-upholstered chairs and dark mahogany walls sipping espressos. By night, if it’s not a pulsing club, it’s often a performance of some kind, be it opera, symphony, or drama, followed by drinks with friends. This happens to be how I met her; we both had come from the opera and met up over a bottle of local white wine at a fantastically intimate, yet packed wine bar. Most of the time she does a great job exhibiting utmost class and sophistication without falling into the realm of pretentiousness, but I couldn’t help but roll my eyes when I found out that the Porsche out front was hers (incidentally, it was parked between a BMW and another Porche). When she’s partying, she’s into Santigold, Lady Gaga, and house trance, but when she’s by herself she’s really into the classical greats like Mozart, Beethoven, and Hyden. As we talked, it bothered me at first that she kept smoking one cigarette after another. Actually, now that I think about it, the other ladies I met on this trip smoked too, but not as much as she did. With the other women I met, I was kind of disappointed by their smoking, but with this woman, I soon found myself envious of how cool and sexy she looked smoking those cigarettes. I’ve never smoked a cigarette in my life, but the aura of class and alluring sophistication that she wielded with that cigarette between in her fingers and smoke smoothly blowing from her lips made me want to join in. I restrained from the cigarette, but compromised with a cigar. Yet still, I paled in comparison to the highbrow elegance of this lovely lady. As I got to know her, I learned that while she may indeed be way out of my league in terms of superior breeding and sophistication, at heart, underneath the makeup and expensive clothing and jewelry, she is still a simply lovely, lovely lady.

Excuse me for not introducing these women by name sooner. The first is named Berlin, the second is named Prague, and the third goes by Vienna. And I nearly forgot to mention, Vienna also introduced me to her equally beautiful cousin named Salzburg, who, though I found her to be dramatically attractive, also came across as a little superficial and shallow.  If you ever get the chance to meet any one of these lovely ladies in person, it is an opportunity you don’t want to miss and won’t soon forget. Enjoy some photos from our time together.

Berlin

Wall Art

"The Kiss" mural at East Side Gallery

Brats and gluwein

I caught this at the parade. I missed the beer though.

The Pontiff leading the Karnival parade

Fireworks

Skyscrapers

Checkpoint Charlie sign

Reichstag

Brandenburg Gate and me

East-German walkman

Prague

Salzburg

Vienna

Unparalleled cafe scene

Pittsburgh's own

Mozart at national opera house

Window shopping at its best