Dusty Boxcar Walls

Website Back Up

2008-08-25T05:34:00.000-07:00

Thanks to my good friend Rick Telep, www.ebenjaminsmith is now back up and running. He completely redid it and I think it's fantastic - very easy to use and slick looking.

Recent Paintings

2008-07-21T12:35:00.001-07:00

Here are some recent (and a few not-so-recent) paintings that I've been working on. Some are from my time in Prague and some are from Appleton Farms, where I now work. I should have a real website up and running in a few weeks, but thought I'd just throw these up here in the meantime. The website will be at ebenjaminsmith.com, try it sometime in August.

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On Cottage

2008-04-29T01:34:00.000-07:00

After months of hearing about my students going 'on cottage' every weekend, I was lucky enough to be invited to a 2-cottage, horse-back riding and meat consume-a-thon. Me and Pete gave our houses a good name by downing plate after plate of goulash, steaks, homemade sausage, chlebicek (little open-faced ham and potato-salad sandwiches), cakes, tiramisou, etc. And I think we drank some beer too. A bit, a bit.
The hospitality we experienced was amazing and we felt immediately comfortable, even around tables of strangers who spoke little or no English. I learned more Czech over the weekend than I did the whole time I've been here. I learned to say 'I love your cooking' and 'I have a monkey' (slang for 'I've been drinking.)
We brought a guitar and harmonicas and played them some American songs and heard some Czech songs, played by Honza and his dad and sang with gusto by all Czech's in the room. Honza is a fantastic musician and shamed us by knowing more lyrics to 'Mr. Tambourine Man' than me or Pete.
We ended the weekend with Ales and his girlfriend Denisa at her flat on Sunday over more goulash, steaks and detailed plans for their visit (with Honza) to the U.S.
Maybe the best weekend I've had since I've been here.
Click 'older posts' at the bottom for more pics.

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Drawings from the first warm day of Spring

2008-03-30T11:31:00.001-07:00

O little red bird, come to my window sill...

2008-03-24T04:00:00.001-07:00

Winter's Come and Gone - Gillian Welch

2008-03-24T03:38:00.001-07:00

Oh little red bird
Come to my window sill
Been so lonesome
Shaking that morning chill
Oh little red bird
Open your mouth and say
Been so lonesome
Just about flown away

So long now I've been out
In the rain and snow
But winter's come and gone
A little bird told me so

Oh little blue bird
Pearly feather breast
Five cold nickels all I got left
Oh little blue bird
What am I gonna do
Five cold nickels
Ain't gonna see me through

So long now I've been out
In the rain and snow
But winter's come and gone
A little bird told me so

Oh little black bird
On my wire line
Dark as trouble
In this heart of mine
Poor little black bird
Sings a worried song
Dark as trouble
'Til winter's come and gone

Steve and Rachel bring me a huge tub of peanut butter. (And stay for 10 days' visit.)

2008-03-22T00:03:00.001-07:00

On March 8th I went to the airport and sat in the wrong terminal (and there are only two) for a few hours before meeting Steve and Rachel who flew in for 10 days of goulash sampling and wandering through the streets of Prague. They were really into checking out the city on foot and even talked me into jumping on an overnight train to Krakow with them (didn't take much). Side note; sleeping cars are awesome. If you see Steve, ask him about how all the gadgets work. Anyways, they were appropriately excited about the piles of cheap clothing for sale at the train station and we spent a good 2 hours up to our elbows in leopard-print tights and woolly military pants. But the best parts of their visit were just sitting around in my apartment, chatting, eating good food and sipping local beer. Whenever I think about what I miss most back home, it's just that; good conversations with good people, preferably over a meal, with the promise of more to follow. What sucked was when they left and I didn't know when the next time that would all happen. Maybe sooner than later. Check back for details.
(click older posts at the bottom of the page to see more pics from S&R's visit.)

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Dublin in 2 Days

2008-03-04T12:14:00.000-08:00

So I had something posted about our weekend in Dublin and then reread it a day later and decided to un-post it. It's kind of strange to try to write about my life and put it up there for anyone to read, as anyone else who has a blog will probably attest too. You want to find the right tone for each entry and often, after rereading it through the eyes of various people, think it sounds inauthentic or dull or wordy or just plain dumb. Usually I just post it anyways and don't care so much, but this last one bothered me enough to yank it.
Anyways, Dublin was mostly a blast (can something even be mostly a blast? See, that's what I mean). Our good friend Mika, who lives there, welcomed us upon arrival and spent the weekend taking us around the city, treating us to fantastic meals and giving us all places to sleep in her apartment. We spent a lot of time walking around, popping into various pubs and famous places like Trinity College, the Jameson Distillery and the Guinness Brewery, though we opted not to actually go into these last two due to the crowds and long lines.
But Dublin's famous pubs really live up to their reputation in my opinion - they're old and cozy and the patrons and bartenders are very friendly, a bit of a change from Prague's pub scene where people are more distant and subdued. Though a large part of this is probably due to the language barrier, and in Prague people bring their dogs right into the pubs, which is really nice.
So here are some pictures from the weekend. To see more, click on 'Older Posts' at the bottom of the page.

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Duchess and The Kittens, Ceske Krumlov

2008-02-11T10:19:00.001-08:00

After the waters of the Vltava River pass under the various famous and not-so-famous bridges of Prague, they wind about 160 km into South Bohemia and wrap nearly completely around a town so quaint and picturesque that it seems to have been inspired by a children's pop-up book. Ceske Krumlov is home to the second largest castle complex in the C.R. (behind Prague Castle), the Egon Schiele Museum (sadly closed during my visit), dragon-head gutter spouts, Gypsies and if you were to have looked in the window of the Traveller's Hostel last Saturday night, you would have caught a glimpse of different kind of classic scene; the slapping silly of an obnoxious fan by lead singer Angela Alsap, aka, the Duchess.
We - my friends and members of the band 'Duchess and the Kittens' - took a bus out of Prague Friday afternoon. Under our feet, where some of us stood in the aisle due to our late arrival to a popular bus ride, were nestled a drum kit, an upright bass, guitar, saxophone, clarinet, shaky-shake things and other various and sundry band stuff. The ride there was long but I got a really nice view of the Czech countryside (or 'the nature' to all my students) - the sun laid out in wide strips over rolling green hills and farmland and I could sense the tension leaving the native passengers as we got farther from the city. I thought about drives to the Murdoch Lakehouse and my brother's house in Maine, about all the roads that lead out of office buildings, elevators, sickly lit corridors, cattle-cars and choked streets and out to the places that refill our tanks.
That night we filled ours with goulash and dumplings and locally brewed beer in a small pub that would eventually fill up as a Gypsy band blew us all away with music that I just can't describe. It was both effortless and intense, extremely passionate and nonchalant. They wore black and had dark skin and black hair. The bass player wore a gold medallion and he and the violin player would look smilingly into each other's eyes as they belted out songs in Romany that sounded like they'd come from the same tradition as marriachi music. The accordion player sat with his back to us but the sound of the shiny black box on his lap seemed to come out of the walls, and the clarinet player put sugar on everything that came by, occasionally taking a break to let the violin player apply his own semi-sweet finish. We drummed on the table, we slapped our knees, we clapped along with the rest of the bar and I felt like Dean Moriarty rubbing his belly and shouting 'blow, man, blow' to the trumpet player at the Chicago jazz club. If there was more room we would all have been dancing, but as it was we had to be satisfied with banging on stuff, shaking our heads and applauding each tune.
The next day I woke early and walked around the little town in the occasional company of the other 6 or 7 tourists who had come there during the off-season. The day was clear and crisp and the bright sun seemed incongruous with the smoke rising from nearly all the chimneys that poked up from the red rooftops. I followed the path that lead up the castle and through it, barely believing it wasn't all just a movie set.
Later I met up with my friends for an amazing traditional Czech feast - millet casseroles, barley cakes, sweet ham, root vegetable salads and lots of other stuff I didn't stop to identify. The flavors were strange and somehow tasted exotic, a surprise to someone who thought people in the 14th century were limited to seasoning their meat with other pieces of meat. On the back of the menu was a two-page description of the history of Czech food and I remember exactly none of it.
The show that night was a blast. The place filled up and soon the Duchess and the Kittens were in full swing. People were dancing, singing along and raising glasses of beer in salute to the band, to one another and to the nameless spirit that fills up such places. But two people, standing way in the back and chewing on some sour resentment, thought they'd make a name for themselves by shouting 'you suck!' at the band from time to time. There were some words exchanged between Angela and the two sad jerks and before the night was over she'd come off the stage to slap them each around, after which the rest of us sent them running for the stairs that led them up to their rooms, beer poured all over them and looks of bewilderment on their faces.
The night continued with more dancing, many re-tellings of the incident and drinks bought for Angela and the band.
The next day we played a game where we raced leafy sticks in the river, following them as they made their way to a small waterfall. This may soon be the national sport.
We took a train back and I felt like Harry, going home to normal life after so many adventures at Hogwarts. But Prague life isn't exactly normal and before long it will, itself, be a story out of a book that I may or may not write. So I try to be here, as much as possible, though often feel like I'm walking along next to myself, watching, as someone would walk alongside a half-submerged tree branch that's heading down river and will soon be out of sight.

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Lions and tigers and bears...all in tiny cages...

2008-02-03T09:57:00.001-08:00

I woke up this morning with a yen to walk around in the strange light that suddenly appeared in the heavens. I asked the locals what it was and was told that it was 'slunce', which translates to 'the sun'. Hmmm...that brings me back.
So I scanned the map of the city I have taped to my bedroom wall and located several parks I hadn't gone to, but then saw the green splotch labeled 'Zoologicka Zahrada'. I could figure this one out on my own - 'zoologicka' meaning 'place of fake trees' and 'zahrada' meaning 'pushy Czech people'. Off I went.
On the bus ride there I was surrounded by excited kids in colorful mittens and hats and parents popping pain killers and massaging their temples. I had been thinking about how nice it would be to be going with a family with kids - nieces, nephews, friends kids - but then I realized that I was really looking forward to being there alone. I could plant myself in front of the monkey house or the tiger pen for a full hour each if I felt like it. I could avoid the spider room without shame for once and sit inside the warm 'Afriky' pavilion for the whole afternoon if I wanted to. And I did. Well, not the whole afternoon, but long enough to feel like I'd thawed sufficiently. And I watched the monkeys go through 3 full shifts of grooming.
One of my favorite parts was the 'Twilight Room' with open pens for kangaroo mice and bats. Every few seconds a bat would take flight and buzz everyones heads, causing far less distress than I'd anticipated, and to be honest, had hoped for. People were fine with good-sized bats (2' wingspans) patrolling the small dark cave, their silvery wings brushing hair, backpacks and any kids who were getting piggy-back rides. Had I been subjected to a dark cave with bats flying around as a kid I may turned out to be a less timid adult. Or I just would have had nightmares like I did about the Electricity Room at the Museum of Science.
Other highlights included seeing two huge tigers prowling around an outdoor pen, their exhalations coming out in visible blasts in the chilly air. But the sense of sadness in seeing them cooped up like that only multiplied when I entered into another pavilion and discovered many more tigers. Unlike the lucky ones who had a hillside the size of a decent front yard to walk around in, these indoor ones were confined to a little room that looked to have been designed with a much smaller animal in mind. An animal whose natural habitat involved concrete, a half dozen fake trees and little else. They paced their cages, tails twitching and looking hungrily at the people who tapped on the glass and aimed phones and cameras at them. I thought of snapping a picture myself but just couldn't bring myself to do join the ranks of those who had just elbowed me out of the way so they could capture a captured tiger on their video camera phone that hung around their neck on a colorful lanyard.
The lion was worse. Somehow they'd managed to find him a smaller cage, maybe something a pygmy shrew recently vacated. The lion wasn't just pacing. He was baring his teeth and throwing his shoulder into the glass at every turn, causing deep 'booms' to echo through the pavilion. At one point he lunged at a man who was watching him through the viewscreen on his camera. His huge face struck the glass and left white strands of drool dripping down to the floor. The man just laughed and flashed his teeth at his friends who stood a few feet away. Did I want the glass to break? Well...
But some of the animals seemed happy. The zebras stood in the slunce like statues and looked out on the wide field that they had free reign of. If only it wasn't 30 degrees it might have felt something like home to them. The giraffes ate from large clumps of grass that had been thoughtfully put on a high shelf to make them feel like their ridiculous necks were worth having. The otters ran hither and yon over their enclosure, gathering dead white mice that lay there like manna that some Otter-god had delivered in the night. They would grab two or three at a time, galumph over to the water and, after taking the mice for a few spins around the pool (to soften them up?) they'd perch somewhere and begin gleefully ripping their heads off and devouring them.
So here are some random pictures at the 'zahrada'. Enjoy

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a couple drawings I did on a recent warmish day

2008-01-27T07:40:00.001-08:00

The arrival of The James

2008-01-09T09:52:00.000-08:00

Some random pictures of the last week or so with James. More to follow in the near future.

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JAMES IS COMING!!!!!

2008-01-04T02:30:00.000-08:00

New Year's Eve in Prague, where the drunker you are, the more fireworks you're in charge of.

2008-01-01T14:09:00.002-08:00

Walking to my friend's place around 10:00 at night felt like I'd entered a war zone. Apparently sticks of dynamite counts as fireworks here, because that's what people were lighting off and lobbing into crowds of people. You'd be talking to someone and then there'd be flash of light and then you were deaf for the next half hour. Absolute mayhem. Wonderful, drunken mayhem. By the end of the night the whole city lay under a blanket of freshly smashed glass. Old Town Square was jam-packed with revelers, singing and shouting and wishing everyone Happy New Years in dozens of different languages. I clinked my champagne bottle against countless others as we walked through the streets in search of a good club, which was any one that had a bathroom. We found one, danced for a while and then I headed out around 3 or 4 to wander the city for an hour or so, looking for the right tram to take me home, which would have taken about 20 minutes to walk to. The streets were still mobbed at 4, bars stay open all night here, but I was happy to get back to my apartment and crash.
When I re-emerged from my mini-coma it was only 10:00 so I pulled my laptop into bed and watched The Royal Tenenbaums. I love that movie, and loved it even more on the first day of a new year, the image of Chaz hanging off the back of the garbage truck with his sons and Royal at the end was especially meaningful. And the song 'Feeling Good' by Nina Simone has been running through my head all day. Here are the opening lines.

'Birds flying high, you know how I feel,
Sun in the sky, you know how I feel,
Breeze drifting on by, you know how I feel,
It's a new dawn, it's a new day,
It's a new life for me, yeah,
It's a new dawn, it's a new day,
It's a new life for me,
And I'm feeling good...'

If you haven't heard this song, you should go buy the album 'Blue For You'. The whole thing is fantastic. After one listen you'll feel ready to take a ride through town on the back of a garbage truck.

As I walked through one of my favorite parks this afternoon I saw the odd firework rise above a hill in the distance, like there were still some die-hard party animals who were scrounging their supply closets for one last thing to light off. I'm glad someone locked all the canons up.

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Back in time for Christmas

2007-12-24T01:48:00.000-08:00

I arrived back in Prague on Sunday the 23rd at around 8 am, after two flights that took me through the night from Baku, by way of Vienna. On the way there, I had a 7 hour layover in Vienna and got to wander around for a whole afternoon, but this time I just had time to walk to the gate and stretch my legs a bit before jumping on the little plane to the Czech Republic.

Baku was a really good experience, and really strange, due in part to the culture being completely new to me, as well as being basically by myself for most of my time there. I didn't mind though, I stayed busy and found that solitude is something I've gotten to be quite friendly with as of late.

But the city itself was, like most cities, many things at once, depending on the day, one's mood, one's company and level of intoxication. In the mornings it could be rather abrasive, while I waited for my ride to the airport by the curb watching the sun reluctantly make an appearance, orange and blurry through all the exhaust and smog spewed from the old cars that roared down the streets incessantly. Old Soviet Lada's, brand new BMW's and Mercedes, SUVs, mopeds, huge buses that seemed to have rumbled in off the set of Mad Max, cars with live chickens tied down on the trunk - I could fill a whole chapter of a book with just what I witnessed on the roads. But many times I wasn't bearing witness, but purposely looking at lesson plans, trying not to acknowledge the fact that our driver was pulling our old Turkish tank-car into oncoming traffic, causing people to lock their breaks up and sound forth a symphony of horns, the unofficial national anthem of Baku.

The teaching aspect of my time there was a bit of a trial, though not life-threatening I decided at lunchtime of the first day. That morning had found me completely unprepared, thanks to my boss' hospitality the night before, and staring at 12 mustachioed Azeri men and one woman (no mustache) who are not known for their disarming smiles. At least not at first. Over lunch they opened up much more, smiling and laughing often to reveal a table-wide constellation of gold teeth. Perhaps the reason they do not smile for photos, though I think it has to do with the tradition of posing sternly for photos in that part of the world. I never felt like asking them 'Why don't you smile for photos? Is it because all your gold teeth or are you trying to look tough?'
We all ate lunch together everyday, which was a big deal. So big that the students would pass around the cafeteria menu during class and interrupt a lesson to turn and ask each other what they wanted to have. I would be in mid-sentence when one of the students would whisper my name. Thinking he had a question about English I'd stop and see what he wanted. 'Do you want the Turkish chicken or some lamb rolled up in dough and boiled?' It was hard for me to discourage this behavior, even if I felt momentarily irked by being interrupted, I would immediately realize how much more I cared about the menu than phrasal verbs. And so I would whisper back 'What's the lamb like? Does it come with a sauce? No, sauce. Um, like gravy, do you know what gravy is? Look it up in your dictionary. (Pause) Oh, a yogurt sauce? Yeah, that sounds good. And the mushroom soup, please.'
The soups were amazing. Borscht, lentil, local mushroom, bean and noodle. That was after bread and salad. After soup came the main course, usually served with a rice-type grain, french fries or mashed potatoes, egg yolk-yellow from the amount of butter mixed in. But the best food in the country, in my opinion, was the yogurt. It was like a mix between ricotta and whipped cream, so rich and fresh, and sightly different everywhere I got it. The little market right down the street had a good brand that often had a thick skin on top. At first disgusted by this, I soon realized it was the best part, nearer to cheese than yogurt, and very tasty.

I saw some really interesting buildings, old and new, went to an opera at the National Opera House, learned about the conflict with Armenia, drank more vodka than I ever wanted or thought possible, was eyeballed by people wherever I went, heard interesting tales about the Soviet era, experienced incredible hospitality and left feeling like I'd barely started to scratch the surface of the culture.

I may write more about it, but for now here are a bunch of pictures.

Merry Christmas to everyone and thank you for keeping in touch. Check back soon for more updates.

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Photos from my 2 weeks in Baku.

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