Once, twice, three times the tyranny.

Without meaning to, I recently read a trilogy of dictatorial oppression. Victor Kravchenko’s I Choose Freedom, Jung Chang’s Wild Swans and Art Spiegelman’s Maus recount the stories of survivors of brutal regimes that committed murder on an mammoth scale. In spite of the grim subject matter, the books are not in fact exceedingly horrific in their portrayals, preferring objectivity over high-drama and to anyone unfamiliar with the events (not that I am an expert) are well worth reading. They offer brilliant insight into the workings of extreme ideologies, personality cults, and the power they hold over their subjects; effects are still felt today.

I Choose Freedom, is pretty well summed up by its tag line: “the personal and political life of a Soviet official”, covering Kravchenko’s life from a childhood witnessing the Communist revolution to adulthood and defection to the West in 1944. Its publication in 1947 is notable because the Cold War hadn’t really gotten underway. The USSR was still seen in a positive light by many in the West, and when tales of inhumanity did make it out from behind the iron curtain, they were rubbished.

In fact, this is what happened to Victor Kravchenko when the French Communists published an article attacking his picture of complete imprisonment inside a state apparatus that created and fed off fear. Kravchenko later successfully sued them for libel. So too, the widespread famine, slave armies and paranoid witch-hunts did not sit easily with Communist sympathizers who likened Russia to a utopia.

Wild Swans constructs a similarly dystopian image, of a China that blindly loves, and yet is governed in a psychopathic manner by, Chairman Mao. Though Stalin created a personality cult and was admired by Mao, it would appear that the Chinaman took the concept to a new and dizzying heights, installing a regime that indoctrinated the Chinese from a young age. Chang says a few times that although on reflection, the ills of the land could not possibly be caused by anyone but Mao, it took a long time even for her to even contemplate the idea that he my be responsible for suffering on an unimaginable scale.

Its worth noting as well that both books also demonstrate the positives of Communism – examples where good management/ governance was of genuine benefit to the workers/citizens. However, over the lifetimes of her grandmother, her mother and then herself (and in I Choose Freedom), we are shown they system’s corruption and only makes for a more painful reading as the highly capable are persecuted and replaced by the more politically skillful (though inestimably less qualified).

Maus deals with extremism on the other end of the spectrum, telling the story of the author’s father in Poland during the rise of Nazism and the consequent Holocaust. It also differs for a couple of other reasons, a) it is a graphic novel and b) it was awarded a Pulitzer Prize Special Award in 1992. Not having read many graphic novels, I can’t compare it to others but Spiegelman’s use of the medium makes eloquent and beautiful use of both illustration and structure. It is eminently obvious why it is so highly lauded.

Although to say that the story is simply about Spiegelman’s father is rather misleading, I feel that it is as autobiographical, as it is biographical. Spiegelman shows the history and personality of his father, by showing how he researched and wrote Maus. You see how they interact, talk to each other and get an idea of how the Holocaust affected not just the father, but also the son.

Sense from madness

I think try to come away with any grand conclusions would require me to have read more books that I actually have and to be honest, have spent more time thinking about this post than I have. But there are a few things that struck me after having finished all three books.

For a start, the scale of the of deaths that the three dictators are responsible for is immense and he mindset whereby human life is given such a low value is almost unfathomable. In the case of Stalin and Mao, they seemed to be of the opinion that no matter how many people they killed, it was but a drop in the ocean of the overall populations. As for Hitler and the Nazis, they didn’t accept that what they were doing was inhumane, by the sheer fact that the victims were not human.

A feature of the Communist regimes that is worth exploring a little more, is that of the purges. Although both Stalin and Mao had led their countries to victory through revolution and world war, they felt that their struggle was not over and that subversive elements lurked. The numerous witch-hunts claimed many lives and caused untold disruption, what’s more, these purges were frequently conducted to satisfy centrally dictated quotas, which more often than not were used to settle feuds and jealousies. In I Choose Freedom and Wild Swans, time and again ‘the able but politically disinclined’ are picked off, many times by former friends – everyone learnt to look out for themselves.

The legacy of the events also impressed me. Maus is the obvious example of how history still affects the victims but it is interesting to look at how some still deny that these events occurred. Clearly the Holocaust Deniers are an illustration, but we can also see Mao Yushi in China (no relation to Mao), who has faced opposition to his articles calling for a reexamination of Mao’s record 36 years after his death; such is the power of his personality cult.

A modern day example of the personality cults can be seen in North Korea, and while many have either laughed at the North Koreans for mourning Kim Jong-Il, or questioning their sincerity, I think they were genuinely grieving. In an all-seeing, all-hearing, all-controlling state, it is more than possible to make the citizens think that black is white and white is black, even today.

27 Down, None to go

A couple of anniversaries have quietly ticked over during the last week or so, the first being that of my blog – it was about a year and week ago that I posted my first piece (I wouldn’t bother going back to read it, it wasn’t especially good. Nor were any of the subsequent posts for that matter). And it was just over a year ago that I flew out to Madrid to start this whole year abroad.

Well, I finished my stage with Edelman | The Centre yesterday, wrapping up a few things I’d being working on, so I guess my year abroad is pretty much over. I’m still in Brussels for a few days before I fly back to the UK to get on with finishing my degree but for all intents and purposes, I never have to speak French or Spanish again. Until uni.

I’d like to be able to look back on my year and conjure up some words of wisdom or come out with some great philosophical insight.

Like I say, I’d like to.

I can however, claim to have learnt a few things while away, like the fact that all foreigners claim that British food is terrible. And that none of them have any idea what it is.

I’ve also found that a British accent very rarely goes down badly at a party and that I could probably start charging people to hang around with me in the hope that my accent rubs off on them.

Additionally, finding the energy to work on anything after/ outside of work is hard and whoever decided that work placement students should write an essay during their stage should be shot.

Finally, I’ve learnt that the things you like least of all can sometimes stay with you the longest.

In many ways I Gotta Feeling by the Black Eyed Peas forms the backbone of the soundtrack to my year. I heard the song on my first night out in Madrid, my last night out in Brussels and nearly every night in between. Everywhere I’ve been, every bar I go, that song isn’t far behind.

And yet I detest the song in its entirety. It’s entirety of course being 30secs long and looping the same, dull lyrics over and over. Cracked.com provides an extremely informative video that sums up my feelings pretty well.

But enough of my ranting. I’ve got a, once-in-a-blue-moon, sunny Brussels to enjoy.

[Update: thank you Katie Brown for correcting my grammar, 'for all intents and purposes']

C’est la vie

So it looks like this blog has gone the way of my other great passions in life (learning to play the harmonica, becoming an world class sportsman, catching all the Pokémon…) – it’s fizzled out shortly after I realised that it required hard work.

I’m not sounding the death knoll on this blog though, just pointing out that the ‘once a week’ posting policy I tried to keep to has become a ‘once a month a best’ policy. And although a large part of this can be attributed to apathy/laziness on my part, I will protest that I’m working far more than I did in Spain and that life is considerably more boring than I am led to believe it is on TV (I break out into song much less frequently than they do in Glee).

That isn’t to say I’ve been (overly) boring though – I’ve done a few interesting things, like watching the start of the Brussels 20km run from the top of the arc de triomph…

… and travelling to places like Madrid and Maastricht…

Geck?

… and visiting the lovely sea-side town of Knokke – though I went here hungover and with a mild case of food poisoning. I didn’t get round to taking pictures that day, mostly I just tried not to die (I was quite successful).

Most recently, I can report that the merger between our office and that of the world’s largest independent PR firm is complete and I now have new colleagues in my office. This started at the beginning of last week with the company retreat to Bruges which was thoroughly enjoyable but the highlight so far has to be an office email asking if anyone had seen the PR team’s box of condoms which seems to have been misplaced while settling in.

Life in Brussels has been continuing as it always has, I’ve spoken next to no French and my to-do list keeps growing, while the time to do it in keeps shrinking. Mostly I’m thinking about media preparations for next year (I’ve been elected Media Officer at Bath next year) and writing a 3,000 word essay, which isn’t especially long – my biggest difficulty is just finding time to do it in.

The thing I’ve come to notice among my stagiaires friends though, is that our (their – I’ve got 2 months left) time is drawing to an end. People are already starting to pack their bags people are being replaced by the next generation. Still there’s a little bit of time left and we’ll just have to use it wisely…

Blue Skies Thinking

About four years ago I remember watching a documentary (an episode of Horizon I think) which talked about climate change and how mass air travel actually played a role in global warming, or as it turns out, global cooling.

If you go outside and look up then (normally) you’ll see the unmistakable trails that airplanes leave behind (contrails or condensation trails – I had to look that up). In case you’re wondering what it is, the hot exhaust gases of the engine cool the surrounding air and create tiny water droplets, forming artificial clouds.

The point of the programme though was that while these artificial clouds don’t have much of an effect on their own, in big enough numbers, they do. After 9/11, all air traffic in the USA was grounded for three days which meant that there were no contrails. What scientists then measured was that temperatures during those days rose by 1.8ºC.

The effect that the scientists found was that the contrails, in their massive numbers, had been reflecting sunlight and heat away from the earth, helping to cool the earth. Their absence made temperatures rise and given the massive amounts of CO2 that planes pump into the atmosphere, the irony certainly isn’t lost on me. [see Wikipedia's article on contrails]

The relevancy of this of course is that for nearly a week, we’ve experienced something rather similar here in Europe. So it’ll be interesting to see if something similar happened for us. I for one know that I had a brilliantly sunny weekend in Maastricht, I wonder how many other people enjoyed the weather?

Routine

Testament to just how much I’m settled into my new routine and how little energy it leaves me at the end of the week, this post is about a week later than I meant for it to be. But the fact I have a routine serves as proof that I really have settled into life in the European capital, Brussels. Or as I like to call it, the Home of Grey!

That name is perhaps a little unfair though, its not always grey. Very often I find myself rudely awoken by that ray of sunlight that determinedly finds it’s way into my eye, just as my hangover is at it’s peak. Sadly/ happily, that sunlight never lasts long – right now I can look out of my window and find half of my view filled with blue sky and fluffy white clouds, over shadowed by an enormous grey rain cloud, ready to break at any moment.

I’ll point out that the weather is getting better though, its gotten noticeable warmer here in the last few weeks and everyone at Place du Luxembourg no longer crowds inside the tents, huddled round the heaters. It seems that Thursday night at Pullman’s Bar is now apart of my routine, getting out of work at the first possible moment and heading down to enjoy happy hour which is then occasionally followed by a trip to the other side of the European Parliament, where the best chips in Brussels are served at Maison Antoine.

Work itself is becoming more routine now, I know where to look and what to do for my media monitoring in the morning. Then moving onto whatever work I’ve been given by the consultants, all the while expecting that urgent task which needs to have been done five minutes ago, to pop up at any moment.

Then there’s the events, one or two a week where myself and the other interns will greet the attendees, take their name and coat before either heading inside to hear the discussion, or chatting depending on how interesting the topic is. The evening events are often most interesting, the drinks reception afterwards allowing you to mingle. I’ve learnt to only introduce myself as a stagiere to likely fellow stagieres though. While mostly people are polite and friendly, one too many times I’ve watched the other person’s face drop as their thought processes become eminently clear, “why on earth did I shake this guy’s hand?” “how on earth can I get out of this conversation?”.

I’ve also begun to notice how I change throughout the week as well. Come Monday, I’ll set off on my 30min commute listening to podcast, BBC’s Friday Night Comedy or maybe Media Talk from the Guardian. By Friday however, its only music, something to take my mind off the work that’s likely won’t get done by the end of the day.

And of course my weeks always end in the same way. Come Sunday, I wash my shirts, ready to do the whole thing again. Speaking of which…

1 Down, 26 To Go

The bitter cold is the only thing I really have to complain about in Brussels right now. The every changing shade of grey of the sky has given way to the clear blue that I became so used to in Madrid.

The only unfortunate thing about this though is that I’m now trapped inside most of the day, having started my stage last Monday. But even that’s not much cause for complaint – I mostly enjoy the work and the only real stress comes from me willing myself not to mess up. The projects I’ve been given are largely interesting, although proof-reading memos because I’m the only English stagiere can only be so fun.

The events that my company puts on are another side to my work that I enjoy, not that I can claim to have worked at many of them, only a book launch last week for The Future History of the Arctic by Charles Emmerson, which was really interesting and where I met the Canadian ambassador to the E.U.

My least favourite aspect of work though is the commute; a week in and I’m already finding out how packed the metro can be at 9am. The one consolation to this however is that the Brussels metro is at least interesting. It seems the entire system was designed by the team behind Thunderbirds, looking like the 60s vision of the future.

I should congratulate them on their choice of music in the stations though. A bit of Bob Dylan makes the morning commute a little easier while Mozart et al. take the stress out of trying to get home.

And dissimilar to Madrid, it’s a home that I want to get to where I have the choice of hanging out in my room (with double bed) or chilling in the living/ dining room, which sports a flat screen TV above the fireplace.

Loyal readers will remember the painted wall and tree trunk that used to keep me company. In my new place, I can enjoy this.

Oh how times have changed.

Second First Impressions

Settling into Brussels has, so far, been an entirely different experience to Madrid. Granted, I’m here for a completely different reason (work instead of study) and am starting out from a different footing (staying with friends as opposed to in a hostel) and so its not the exact same but I’m still finding somewhere to live and it’s still a world away from my first experiences of Madrid. And this is mostly for the better.

For a start, there isn’t quite so a big difference in the culture and way of life. The supermarkets are big, full of choice and stock many of the products I find at home, including Rice Krispies (ironically, found next to the Smacks) and the times at which people go out for drinks are very nearly, if not identical. Even the weather is like home – an ever-changing shade of grey.

The experience has mostly been a lot easier though because I have he luxury of staying with friends from university while finding somewhere to live. They’ve introduced me to a few of the other interns who I’ll no doubt be getting to know while I’m here, as well as a some of their favourite haunts and a couple of the famous friteries.

I get the feeling though that Brussels is an easy city to settle in. Whereas Madrid has a very distinct feel, culture and atmosphere to it, seemingly proclaiming that it is Madrid and that you are in it, Brussels lives a happy existence, quietly getting on with business. It doesn’t try to impose itself on you or stand out.

The comment that perhaps springs from this description though is one that I found back in Madrid when discussing national stereotypes. While the Italians, Dutch, Scots and everyone else can be stereotyped for their love of cooking, clogs and Irn Bru, the Belgians can’t. They lack an image that can be made fun of and this is reflected in a city that seems to lack any real icons that it can claim as its own. While Paris has the Eiffel Tower and London has Big Ben, Brussels doesn’t appear to have any great building to claim as its own.

Individually, at a street level though, the buildings are full of character, coming in an array of different sizes, types and styles. There is no one uniform feel to an area, finding a historic apartment building next to some ugly construction left over from the sixties, next to a clean, modern hotel. Perhaps this patch-work reflects the nature of the EU, mirroring the mix of people from all over Europe.

Bares Favoritos

After having lived (and sometimes studied) there, I’d like to be able to say that I know Madrid pretty well now. I’ve frequented a fair few bars and I thought I’d just tell you about a couple of my favourites.

El Taberna Riki (map)

El Taberna Riki or simply Riki’s is probably my favourite bar in Madrid. Hidden behind Sol, not far from Plaza Mayor, blink and you’ll miss it. This tiny bar is colourfully decorated and has a relaxed, if somewhat smoky atmosphere. The cañas are some of the cheapest I’ve found and come with free tapas (a rarity in Madrid)…

La Paca (map)

If however you’re looking for trendy, I recommend you check out La Paca. As a polar opposite to Riki’s, La Paca’s high ceilings and white walls create a light, airy atmosphere.  While it’s tasteful, eclectic mish-mash of furniture gives the place a quirky feel and seems to welcome you in. Again, cañas are on the cheap side, which is helpful because you’ll be more than happy to spend the evening there.

La Boca del Lobo (map) (website)

Another of my favourite character oozing joints in Madrid, though this time it’s a bar/ club/ venue. In the same way that lightning never strikes twice, so too, no two nights at La Boca are quite the same. I’ve seen it just as a bar, as a venue for live jazz and as host to an international short-film festival. Forever changing, La Boca is always an interesting place to go with some sort of special event on. Be prepared for averagely priced drinks though and sometimes there’s an entrance fee (this is nearly always worth it though).

La Lolina (map) (website)

Going got a semi-60s retro look, this café is another nice place to sit back and relax with a few friends. It is, again, awash with character, which fits nicely with tasty food. Sadly though, it’s in Malasaña, which is only sad for me, as it’s the one area of Madrid that I never quite got to grips with. Forever getting lost, I can guarantee that I don’t know the quickest way there.

Joy

Joy’s inclusion on this list is actually not a recommendation, more a warning and a chance for me to vent my feelings on one of Madrid’s best known clubs.

The very best way for my to sum up Joy would be to ask, “Do you like bland commercial music? Do you like to hear the same music EVERY week? Do you like to spend €10 on a rum & coke? Then you’ll LOVE Joy!” When I first arrived, they were playing I Gotta Feeling by the Black Eyed Peas and they were playing it when I last visited in Decemeber. And that says it all – rubbish music, played again and again. This is a shame though, as it’s set in a converted theatre which makes for an impressive venue – a large dance floor, ornate balconies and a décor that adds a touch of class to even the dirtiest of Erasmus parties. The one thing I will give it, is that in a large enough group, you’ll have a good time, but not more than twice. For something better in Madrid, head towards Plaza de España and try Club Low.

Other

There are of course, plenty more bars, cafés and clubs to check out in Madrid. This list is by no means comprehensive and many of my fellow Erasmus are probably asking how on earth I could leave out such-and-such’s or thingy-me-bob’s but these are just my favourites (and Joy).

I would like to recommend a couple more places though. However, I only went to these once and the details are sketchy and I can’t remember their names (I should have written this while in Madrid)

On Calle del Principe, only slightly down from Plaza de Canalajas, there’s a cellar bar on the side of the street furthest from Sol (it might be called Sesamo – map). It wasn’t especially cheap but inside is brilliant and it has a pianist who plays nearly all the time. Being underground, it’s not easy to spot though.

Also in Malasaña is a little pottery place where you can choose from a huge range of mugs, plates, cups, coasters, jugs, boxes (just about anything that can be made out of pottery) and then paint it yourself. Returning a few days later, you can pick up your masterpiece. And while you paint, you can help yourself to tea (herbal or PG Tips).

La Casa de Granada (map) is just off from Tirso de Molino and again, you won’t spot it at street level. This time though, you look up. Up to the sixth floor and from there out across the roof-tops of Madrid. I enjoyed a caña, tapas and a sunset with a friend one evening and would love to do it again.

As I said before, this list isn’t complete and if there’s a place that I’ve forgotten then add it as a comment! And if you fancy finding your own little treasure, I suggest you explore Malasaña and Chueca.

Avatar – No Thought Required

Nearly two months after it came out, I finally got round to seeing James Cameron’s Grammy winning and Oscar and Bafta nominated Avatar. A film that keeps to Mr. Cameron’s big budget, high grossing style (so far taken more than two thousand million dollars at the box office) and for the first time has added a third dimension to a Hollywood blockbuster.

For me though, it just wasn’t that great, in every respect. Not the worst film I’ve ever seen mind you (I’ve seen Clockstopers), just not great. Certainly not as good as it’s string of Oscar and BAFTA nominations would have us believe.

One of the glaring problems I had from the beginning was that the small, black rock that they were mining for, was actually called ‘Unobtainium’. I’d heard the name mentioned on various programs, making fun of it and I assumed they were just making fun of substance on the grounds that it was some sort of cliché – ‘the generic, impossible to get substance’. But no. They actually call it unobtainium. They went through the entire process of coming up with an imaginary language for the Na’vi. Yet were unable to invent a name for a rock. Really?

Another feature of the film that annoyed me somewhat was the total lack of intelligence that was needed to watch the film. Either the voice-over (often superfluous anyway) or the characters would say something that could easily be deduced by the audience.

For example, early in the film we see the main character giving information to the military people and one of the scientists seeing him do so. It’s obvious that for the scientist, this is wrong. The scientists, including main character, then move facility, away from the military people. No prizes for guessing why.

Literally, no prizes because a voice-over from the main character then tells us ‘the scientists didn’t want me talking to the military people’. This happens a couple of other times in the film and I know its not meant to push intellectual boundaries, but this just feels insulting.

Mostly though, the story annoyed me because the whole film has been lifted entirely from Disney’s Pocahontas, changing just the names, setting and graphics. The following graphic by Matt Bateman (who as far as I can tell, can’t be found online) pretty much sums up the story.

I really am quite surprised that Disney hasn't sued.

The biggest let down however, goes to the third dimension. 3D just wasn’t what it had been hyped up to be. Some of the objects did look a bit nicer and slightly shinier but it never jumped out of the screen at me. I never felt like I was flying or anything; it just never seemed to make much of a difference. The only change I felt in watching the film was that this time, I felt a pair of glasses digging into the sides of my head.

At the end of the day, its not the worst film but I don’t rate it as the best. It’s just a Hollywood cash cow and for the profit it’s already made and the fact that two months after release, showings are still selling out, I’ll say well done to it. But it could have been so much more.

Good Times

Nothing quite beats the enormous sense of the freedom that the end of your last exam brings. Normally this is overshadowed by an overpowering sense of worse is yet to come as next semester/ term you’ll have bigger, longer, harder exams but today is different. I shan’t be spending the next semester studying and so my next set of exams will this time, 2011; when I’m back in Bath.

I’m now free to enjoy the delights of Madrid for one more week before heading back to Blightly for a fortnight and then on to part two of my year abroad adventure – Brussels.

Over the past five months, I’ve actually come to like Madrid. The streets here are either wide, spacious avenues or narrow and winding paths, full of character. And all of it is kept clean by an army of workers who come out at night and wash down the main thoroughfares. The rows of trees that line many of the streets also brightens the city considerably, or at least it does in my neighborhood. And that’s unless of course you look down – they also serve as latrines for the multitude of little yappy dogs that are kept in this city.

As much as I’ve come to feel at home here though, I’m not sure I’d make my life here once university is over. There’s a most definitely a Spanish way of doing things here which you might describe as official stubbornness – there’s the Spanish way and the wrong way.  It’s the way metro trains approaching curved stations announce “Attention: curved station, as you leave, take care not to catch your foot between the carriage and the platform”, whereas in London, you simply hear “Please mind the gap”.

The relative lack of food variation gets to me as well. Both in the supermarkets and in bars you’ll (understandably) find Spanish cuisine but very little else. This may have been ok in the beginning but the novelty of eating chorizo wore off rather quickly for me and patatas bravas are little more than chips with a spicy tomato sauce. One recently arrived course mate was dismayed at his inability to find sour cream or sweet chilli sauce, condiments that are standard in Britain but to which I could only reply ‘that’s the way it is’.

Another continuing annoyance is the endless smoking. While not pandemic, a large proportion of the population do smoke. It means that on any night out, you’ll most likely inhale at least half a pack of cigarettes and come home reeking of nicotine (most annoying because those cloths must then be washed). In addition to this there’s the mandatory group of smokers who congregate around every entrance to every building, providing an unavoidable cloud of smoke.

All this complaining though, isn’t to say that I haven’t enjoyed myself or that I don’t like the country (just that I’d rather live closer to my family and friends). Besides, by far the greatest negative factor on my stay here isn’t even Spain’s fault, it’s mine – my inability to find somewhere to live with people I like. In fact, just about everyone I’ve met has been nice, be they other Erasmus students or Spanish course mates (save one particularly annoying Spaniard). And then with the people I’ve met, I’ve had some great nights out, found some fantastic watering holes and seen some amazing things.

Anyway, no more of this reminiscing crap, I’m off out to meet some friends. Where’s my caña?