Plaza Beach Hotel Beachfront Resort Episode One

Almost any gig will do: A letter

Hi Ms. Higel,

I hear you are leaving soon and was urged to contact you asap.

The run down: I graduated from USF- St. Pete last December w/a Business Management degree. My experiences include a year studying abroad in Australia, an internship in NY w/a record label, and most recently a six month stay in Belgium where I taught English to children.

Looking for: anything...legal.

Why come back from Europe? Unfortunately I got quite a bit homesick and really missed my family, friends, good karaoke, and country music. Alas, here I am, back in St. Petersburg, and am essentially starting over. I have no car, no money, and least of all NO JOB.

Most of my friends who graduated w/me have hung on for dear life at the jobs they had in College. Luckily I am blessed to have NO kids, no huge loan repayments, and no mortgage. So in that sense I am doing great! On the other hand being 22 years of age, jobless, and considering Publix post graduation was not what I had imagined.

I have reached out to my quite impressive network of professional connections in the area and utilized Facebook to tell others of my hunt. No bites. It seems as though the 'favor' well has run dry.

If you could give me any advice, leads, or reassurance I am all ears.
Hope to see you soon.

Thank You,
Holly Berggren

Dirty Mouths in Dublin

What is it about Irish boys that have me so enthralled? Is it their good humor, sarcasm, or merely a nice accent that does it? This past February I spent one week alone in Ireland. In Dublin I went to a bar called The Dame which was an old time, traditional pub across from the touristy Stag's Head. There I met a man nicknamed Crazy who told me that the Celtic Tiger did not help the blue collar people. He also reminded me how sensitive the male ego really is after blowing up on me when I wished to go chat with younger, more handsome boys. I guess Crazy was not merely a nickname eh? Anyway, looking back I see that he was desperately trying to hold and defend his manhood by putting me in my place. Another fellow at The Dame gave me a very serious interrogation asking me question after question on Irish history. The funny thing was he would never actually give me a moment to answer his pop quiz. He would jump down my throat with answers before I had a chance. I am glad I could give him the opportunity to demonstrate his knowledge in front of his peers. Something was making these men angry and resentful but I could not place it. The anger could be linked to feelings of unimportance in the wake of economic turmoil. It could stem from a deeply rooted unease from a lack of land control to foreign powers. I would presume that the male ego, alcohol, and Catholicism all play their parts in the making of an Irish man. It appears to me that religious/political oppression leads to repression as a means of coping with that loss of control. In turn that repression of angst surfaces like a volcano with a little help from booze.

When I am around lots of guys my humor generally lends itself to crudeness. Therefore, on a couple of occasions chatting with Irish fellows I made a vulgar joke or comment that would have been perfectly acceptable in the States (in the right context). I noticed they were not gathering much of a response. Am I just not as funny as I thought? I knew this could NOT be the case, so I went in search for an explanation to my discomfort. Hence, I asked a young Irishmen with whom I had been chatting if sex was a taboo topic in Ireland. He responded with an assuring "Absolutely!" In fact he went on to explain that he and his buddies do not exchange sexual details about their escapades. However, last week in Brussels I met a team of Irishmen called the Rebels here for an American football tournament. We sang karaoke, danced to cheesy music, and bantered on until morning about such topics as body hair, relationships, and music. With them I was completely able to be myself and joke in any way I saw fit. I felt accepted as 'one of them'. Perhaps our encounter might have been different had it been on Irish soil. Did they check their guilt at the Dublin Airport exit? A young team member of the Rebels told me that there are many mixed signals sent to young Irishmen by their parents. For example he said that boys are encouraged to score with girls by treating a scenario where a girl sleeps over in a casual manner. He said the mother may even cook them up some breakfast and pay for a cab. However, if a girl were to have a guy spend the night, "Off with his head!" The acceptance of sexually active young men and not of women is very similar to the States. The main differences that remain are legal freedoms and open discussion.

In the States sex is an unavoidable subject that is practically shoved in our faces. Our conversations are riddled with it, our stars make videos of it, and our children are having it much too young. We are completely desensitized to the ins and outs (no pun intended) of sexual activity. The line between inappropriate and appropriate comments can be blurry. American news brings us stories of high school girls making pacts to become teen moms, treating babies as if they were the latest Pokemons. Recent data shows that teen pregnancy is on the rise for the first time in fifteen years. Men pat one another on their backs if they 'get some'. It is assumed that there is something wrong with those who do not play our oh-so-fun and harmless games. Compare this mentality to that of an environment in which sex is shrugged beneath the rug due to a sense of guilt, not pride. Walking through the streets of both Dublin and Galway I saw no public displays of affection. However, in the evenings nobody seemed shy about it.

"God is light, and in him is no darkness at all" (I John 1:5).

Might God be better able to look down upon us and watch our sins unfold in the light of day?

Upon independence of the Republic of Ireland government was formed based upon Catholic moral guidelines. Systemic differences in American and Irish government may hold the answers to some of the differing views on sexuality. Due to the illegality of abortions in Ireland, an increasing number of teenage girls travel to the UK to have abortions, reaching over 10,000 per year. Therefore, teen fertility rates are inconclusive and difficult to find. Another endemic result of the government foundations is the difficulty in prosecuting clergy criminals. Lawyers representing victims who have been raped by men of the cloth seem to be earning little in consolations. There have been recent (May 20, 2009) BBC reports of rape and abuse of thousands in Catholic institutions from the past few decades with little punishment to those who turned a blind eye to the horrors inflicted on young, vulnerable boys. Education, sexual and otherwise, is predominately Catholic with over 90% (Associated Content, 2009) of Irish children attending denominational schools. Interestingly, the more educated Irish from higher social classes tend to take a liberal stance on sex out of wedlock according to the Crisis Pregnancy Agency (CPA). Ironically, the CPA is run by the Church and therefore is unable to provide any information on contraceptives or abortion to inquiring females. However, one should not look at religion in isolation of other influencing factors.

A full analysis of Irish nationalism, religion, and appetite can be found in a book entitled The Things They Say Behind Your Back, by William B. Helmreich. In which he speaks of differing explanations to the Irish mentality and behaviors. Overbearing mothers, emasculation from a lack of land control, and Jannsenism based Catholicism, which viewed sex as a sinful deed, have been linked to the Irish male's sexual repression. Sex tends to go hand in hand with feelings of guilt and shame. The great famine of the 1840s created a bachelor society stemming from the inability to provide for a family. As a result Irish in large numbers immigrated to America and Australia perpetuating the stereotype of the "Irish Drunkards" and "Fighting Irish" due to the formation gangs and propensity to drink in order to create a sense of control over their destinies.

As a young American I went to Ireland with a preconceived notion of the drunken Irishmen. Raised by my great grandmother, she filled my head with foul memories of her abusive, alcoholic, Irish father. She warned me of Irish boys based on her experiences growing up in Worcester, MA. Naturally I wanted to find out what made them so misbehaved and to partake in some of the scandals myself. What can I say? Maybe it is my love of Irish music or my Irish roots. It could be their wit or informal ways. I think their most endearing qualities may well be those that at times lead them to destructive behaviors. It is their wild hearts, vindictiveness, and outlandish behavior that intrigue me so.

Maybe I had judged too harshly after my first visit to Ireland. The Rebels did not seem quite so frustrated though I met them out off their home court. When travelling, often I feel that new rules suddenly apply. However, when I told a couple guys from the group my thoughts on their fellow countrymen, they agreed there was a definite sense of inherent guilt. One of the young men told me that it tends to be easier for Irish guys to chat up American girls, because Irish women will have none of it. On one occasion in Galway I was baffled by the cold shoulders I received the morning after I had been out for the two nights preceding with a group of Irish guys. I was seen as a reminder of all that debauchery. In the case of the Rebels I hope that our evening together left them with happy memories as it has for me. I hope to see some of them in Dublin and we shall find out if the dynamic changes along with the environment.

These are merely observations supported by casual conversations with a few facts and figures. There are exceptions to every rule and I believe I met a few of the outliers in the Rebels, an appropriate name. However, when the woman you are taught to revere above all others is Mother Mary, an Irishmen might unintentionally demonize the fun American girl he meets in the pub. Let us remember that Ireland is a bit behind in the liberalization of its views. Homosexuality was illegal in Ireland up until 1993. In the early part of the 20^th century you could not even put on a dance without a license to do so and giving a lot of information to the government. Up until the 1970s books containing references to birth control, sex, violence, and cursing were banned in the Republic of Ireland. Nowadays the Irish have comedians like David McSavage who go joke about masturbation on late night talk shows. The times, they are a changing.

“Ya’ll come back now, ya hear!” says Amsterdam

When the major tourist attractions of a place are a red light district and Mary Jane coffee shops one might not imaging a classy trip. ‘One’ might be right in my opinion. The first words that come to mind when I think of my recent visit to Amsterdam are meat and market. Holland is a land of windmills, Heineken, and hoards of young, misbehaving tourists.

For the liberal minded traveler a shrug of shoulders may be the response to legal pot, prostitution, and mushrooms. A crowd other than the one I enjoy rolling with tends to be drawn in by this sort of an environment. Weed loving Americans frolic in the streets like kids in a candy shop.

I am sure there is a wholesome and cleaner side of Amsterdam though it was hard to see from where I was staying. In the red light district the pretty canal views were obstructed by crazy eyed individuals and boys window shopping for naked girls. “Oooooohhhh! Tisk, tisk!” says I.

FYI, the going rate for legal shag is 50 Euros. Which is cheaper: a professional or a girl in a bar selling it for momentary attention? I choose the latter. Can the prostitute truly compartmentalize her business from pleasure? If sex is learned to be a business transaction, than I would conclude that a professional could be better equipped to separate her core being from the actual act. A girl partaking in meaningless sex with strangers may be selling herself while the prostitute sells a service.

Then again maybe we are all what we do. The jobs we choose must be a reflection and direct result of the lives we choose to live and the people we choose to be. If this is the case than I would argue that people selling themselves at a discount rate may be found on street corners, bars, courtrooms, accountant firms, doctor’s offices, libraries, Laundromats, and MOST certainly in Amsterdam.

Innovation from Desperation

The following was in response to a Fulbright scholar who studies entrepreneurs and the common characteristics that lead to their success. Those interested in Business should check out his blog: http://timetogetstarted.wordpress.com/

In addition to the renewed invigoration of an entrepreneurial spirit and true personal passions I would like to comment on one benefit financial turmoil has afforded me: perspective.

At first glance recent graduates appear at a disadvantage to our predecessors who left college with a plethora of job options. During the Clinton years entry level salaries were quite high. Newbies learned to love the green and ran with it.

Warm and fuzzies associated from the purchases of fancy cars, nice homes, and bling tend to wear off once reality hits. The realities, to name a few, came in the form of high gas prices, mortgage meltdown, and DIVORCE....of course she left your ass, you were always working!

We measly recent graduates, who have to taste a bit of what it is like to work hard, be poor, and get creative in order to achieve our goals, should count ourselves lucky. My alternative route brought me to Brussels where I am picking up some French and teaching English to children. If I had rushed straight into the career world I probably would have missed out on this experience. Golden opportunity time: the world is giving us the perfect excuse to stay young, enjoy youth, and slow down. I am going to take it. Put on your favorite soul record and do what feels right.

I feel blessed that I was not handed a shiny job straight out of college. Now I can properly plan for the future with some real world perspective. Not to mention the fine tuning of my mad karaoke skills. Here's to the good life!

The sign above the entrance/exit of Christiania

If it sounds too good to be true…

 

Nothing is free in life. Least of all an entire TOWN! Christiania, Denmark deems itself a "free town" where the use of cannabis is sold and consumed openly. This may sound like a dream to some but from my visit to this wonderland of potheads I believe that dream grew into a nightmare.

A brief history of Christiania:

1971: a group of tree hugging, pot smoking hippies took over abandoned military barracks to create their own island town once called Amager Island.

1989: legalized by the Danish Parliament.

1991: inception of a local law deeming Christiania a "free zone", open to all, car free, and under the control of its inhabitants.

2004: Danish authorities crack down on the cannabis trade in Christiania. Inhabitants now operate more on the down low. The open stalls closed and the pot was moved outside of Copenhagen. However, this has not diminished the pot sales on Pusher Street. If anything it has a broader dissemination throughout Copenhagen with harder drugs being easier to access.

2005: Various gangs begin the fight for control over the newly opened underground cannabis market.

April 23, 2009: Just a few days before my arrival in Christiania a hand grenade was thrown at a crowded café. A young man's chin was blown off and several others were injured.

 

Christiania is a perfect example of an idealistic society gone awry through increasing sanctions from outside parties and a lack of internal control. These people literally tossed a bunch of potheads together and wound up with some pretty art, yoga stretches, and decent music if you are stoned. However, this free love has culminated in violence, pollution, and hypocrisy.

Despite its being a car free zone there are over a hundred car owners residing in Christiania. Many welfare, homeless, addicts, and single mothers find refuge within the city. I did not spot any large gardens full of vegetables and fruits in order to sustain its residents. No butcher signs or cattle ranches on this island. One can only conclude that as independent as they believe themselves to be many if not most of the Christianites are dependent upon the hard working citizens of Copenhagen and Denmark as a whole. They seem to reap the benefits of those who produce the most output while not giving much back as input. They are smoking, dancing, and drinking on the Danish kroner of others. Sounds like someone needs to grow up and get a job.

Drugs tend to breed a culture of lazy, self indulgent adults. The "love thy land" hippies of yester year have been replaced by littering, too cool for school rebels. The art community still thrives and seems to shine through the thick smoke clouds but it's no Louvre.

All in all the wild atmosphere with its Scottish rap outfit performing and awkward Dane on the accordion could not outweigh the fear I had of tripping on a dead dog and falling on a bed of needles and broken glass. I left for greener pastures and normalcy. Ironic since there were signs that read "Normalia".