Kere's Landsphere

Travelogue from points around the world.

Saturday, September 29, 2007

Die Las Vegas, You Die!

So, to reiterate, thanks to the bumbling inefficiency of the Moldovan visa authority, I was taken into custody when I originally tried to leave Moldova in the summer and consequently had to cut my three-week visit to the USA down to two weeks. Hence, I was unable to hit all four places on my itinerary that I wanted to: Austin, because family is there; Santa Fe, because of the awesome desert and my even more awesome friend Laura; San Francisco, because it is the world's most perfect city and home to my very cool friend Isaac; and Las Vegas, because I had never been there. I knew I had to cut one destination off the list, and so cut San Francisco in favor of Las Vegas - for the very simple reason that I wanted an adventure.

This was a mistake!

Las Vegas is nothing like the seedy frenzied pit of deviant action it is so gloriously portrayed in American media. The lurid "What-happens-in-Vegas-stays-in-Vegas" promise of seedy debauchery is a crock of hype. From what I saw, Vegas is nothing but a dumbly buzzing hive of family Americana. It's an unimaginative Disneyland where the elaborate joy of themepark rides have been scaled down to the tinniest of joys found in a slot machine, where childhood celluloid heroes the likes of Mickey Mouse or Goofy have been reduced to plasticine showgirls and silicon strippers (or, even worse, the ghastly whores). From what I saw, Vegas is a sweltering pit of blundering masses - overweight Midwesterners with their scampering brood - all writhing about searching for their God of promised excitement, finding Him nowhere, and flinging money about in vain attempts of sacrifice for His summoning. Oh, Jesus, Vegas is BORING!

Learn from my mistake: if you get to choose between San Francisco and Las Vegas, choose San Francisco!

So, my trip - such that it was - went like this. I stayed at the Luxor hotel, a monolithic faux-pyramid that - in much the same way that the Egyptian pyramids served as immortal chambers for the spirits of the Pharaohs - serves to encapsulate and immortalize the spirit of American commerce. Inside the sloping walls you'll find a labyrinth of restaurants, boutiques, bars, and casinos all waiting to devour your cash. Oh, and there's a pool.

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Finding nothing at all of interest in this particular hotel, I ambled about the city in search of the aforementioned nonexistence of excitement. Unfortunately, as each hotel is itself a monstrosity of shops and casinos, it takes one nearly half an hour to walk from building to building. An evening's stroll down the Vegas strip, then, can really only negotiate three hotels, max. Not that one would really want to experience more than that anyway. Despite the flashing lights and elaborately themed architecture that may lure you inside, each hotel's inner workings is pretty much the same: a twisting hive of confusing corridors glutted with wandering mobs and pinging slot machines. It's enough to make you want to go running into the desert in search of some space.

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I spent the next couple days like that. Bored and wandering. My last evening I decided to experience a glamorous, pricey nightclub where black designer clothes, multihued shots, and overplayed MTV hits were the order of the evening. What I found very strange about this venue though - the Buddha bar, it was called - is that they had velvet ropes, not just at the door, but in front of each TABLE. Forget how impossible this made it to actually move around in the club, having to negotiate as a spider the webs of fuzzy ropes spiraling everywhere, the effect was just PATHETICALLY elitist. Hair-waxed Tom Cruise clones would occasionally strut from behind their fuzzy roped fortresses to lure young ladies from the dancefloor with the promise of passing the forbidden red line. And when the group of girls I was talking with - hell, buying drinks for! - were likewise lured (I'm wondering, now, off the top of my head - could this work anywhere? Say a Denny's perhaps? If I roped off a corner booth, for example, with fuzzy red twine, could I lure the coffee-swilling vixens at the counter to join me?) I called it a night, and an end to the pathetic display of vapid inhumanity that is Las Vegas.

But was my time in Vegas, then, a total waste? No! Indeed, I had a great experience there, of which I will tell you in my next romping installment of this unread blog. (And no, I'm not talking about the Spearmint Rhino, which for all its certain allures is far too mundane to actually comment upon. Besides, this is the internet! What about the children!) Stay tuned!

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Summer Vacation: Part 2

Okay, Internet here in the Balkans isn't all it's cracked up to be, so sorry about the delay in posting. I'll try to do TWO today to make up for it! But, well, no promises...

I would be remiss in detailing my travels through the USA this summer without at least touching upon Texas, where I found myself staying for the bulk of my vacation. Here, I was able to enjoy the rollicking adventures of : Stripmalls!

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So, some yakhead got the great idea of zoning American cities such that houses and businesses were made miles apart, so the only way to get to your house to the market was to drive and so ginormous superhighways and epic parking lots were built and subsequently the stores were built even further away from the residences so that even more highways and parking lots needed to be built, and what you are left with is a neverending blight upon the American urban landscape. And what if you don't have a car? prepare to spend all day going on a single errand, either by foot or car it makes little difference. And the world wonders why America went to war in Iraq for oil.

So, when I do go to the USA, and Texas in particular, I always look forward to the one day my dad lets me visit his ranch, a tranquil zone of peace away from the frustrating hoopla of Austin urbanity. (Yes, one day only - not the closest of families as you may well infer.)

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My dad raises Longhorn cattle. They are really quite beautiful creatures - the squareness of their frames, the softness of their eyes, and of course the grace of their lengthy horns give longhorns a sublime and majestic presence.

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It's strange somehow that these animals should symbolize Texas, or anything American really. The beauty of the longhorns' grace comes from the fact that, despite their deadly armament, they restrain their power. They don't blunder along skewering every little animal they see. Yes, they could kill you with a mere swing of the head, but they don't - and thereby the threat of their power becomes that much more pronounced and one tends to be that much more wary around them. It's an attitude America could learn to emulate.

Monday, September 10, 2007

SUMMER VACATION: PART 1

I have been very lax in my posting of blogs this summer. The reason being, of course, that I have made the move from Moldova to Montenegro! Both in Europe, both countries that start with "M", yet worlds apart. I will soon post on my new country of residence. But first I thought I would describe the journey.

I decided to go to the USA this summer. My grandfather has been doing poorly, so I felt it my duty to see him. Plus, I had a few other things to take care of. So, despite my limited savings and the fact I knew I would have to spend a lot to get to Montenegro, I committed to go to the USA.

I bought a ticket and was all ready to go. I showed up at the airport all ready for my journey. Or so I thought.

I was detained by the police at the airport. Apparently my visa was expired. But how? I had received a year visa last year in August, and this was only July? Did Moldovan years have fewer months than in the rest of the world?

No, get this: in January a new law was passed in Moldova saying that Americans no longer needed a visa to enter the country for 90 days. Yay that. However, for some totally screwball communist-thinking reason, this meant that all other visas for Americans became invalid. Yeah, it's moronic; welcome to Moldova. So, my old visa was invalid, meaning I had stayed past the 90 days allowed me since January, when the new law came into effect.

So, I was hauled to the courthouse, missed my flight, blah blah blah. To make a long story short, the judge dismissed the case (finally, reason!) and so I was free to come in and out of the country. But, I still had to wait a week to go to the USA. My trip was cut to 2 weeks.

Still, I decided to make the most of my trip. I showed up at the airport a week later, showed the judges letter to an obviously flustered border guard, and luckily made it out of the country in one piece. I say luckily, because I flew out in the aerial equivalent of a toaster. See the pic.

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Fortunately, this flight was brief, followed by probably the best overseas flight experience in my life: I licked out and got a window seat by the emergency door (extra legroom!) in a two-seat aisle, where my partner was this very cute and sociable girl from Slovakia. We watched the same movies together, drank a few glasses of wine, and whiled away the hours talking: it was my first aeronautic blind date!

I had a few hours layover in Chicago, and as I was eager to make the most of my 2 weeks in the USA I hopped an "El" downtown. I lived in Chicago for half a year many moons ago, so felt oddly nostalgic for the land of hot-dogs and overweight Midwesterners (a connection?)

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Many years ago, I attended the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. I was young and carefree, and dropped out after only a semester. To this day I consider that the biggest blunder in my life and wonder what would have happened had I stayed there. (And now you know something of the real, inner me - don't say I never opened up, whoever you are!) So this was my ultimate destination. Unfortunately, it was closed :(

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So, I ate a donut and went back to the airport. My first taste of America.