A City of Transience and Timelessness

In Vienna, when the cold weather comes, there's this drizzle that doesn't count as rain. A visitor might say, "It's raining," but if you live here, you won't think it is. The roads will have this wetness from this "drizzle." A certain gloom may accompany it, but I, for one, rarely find Vienna gloomy. It has a dark past and possibly a dark future coming, but for now, it's a special city. There are all kinds of people, even if mostly a representation of this part of Europe, this part of the world, a portal to Eastern Europe, or as I’d say, the capital of Eastern Europe. Those in the Balkans and east of the Danube often aspire to one day live and work here, even if they may say things like, "It's boring" or "Everything's closed on Sunday." None of these change the reality that a large part of this city, even the Viennese themselves, are of Eastern European heritage. I, a Western European who appreciates Eastern Europe, understand and value the special position that Vienna holds on this continent. One cannot underestimate the importance of where East meets West, whether for business, culture, crime, democracy, or influence from both sides.

It's the first city I’ve lived in where I didn’t understand half the languages spoken for the first few months. With time, I learned to differentiate between Czech/Slovakian, Hungarian, and sometimes Slovenian. Other languages such as Russian and Serbian I was already familiar with. Bulgarian and Macedonian might be a bit of a challenge. On a Saturday, the people are out shopping, and here and there "Entschuldigung" can be heard as people nearly bump into each other. Like any large city, it’s a place one can get lost in. I'm not so much referring to getting lost in the alleys as I mean becoming transparent, invisible, irrelevant—the perfect wallflower. There needn't be a worry of pretense, for the next moment, your presence will be replaced by someone else. So if on this day you feel down, it will be forgotten, and if you feel up, it too will be forgotten. This may leave you thinking that it’s a hard place to leave your mark, and I do believe that’s true, but it’s also a place where you don’t need to leave your mark.

You can be a temporary sojourner, experience much, and unless you're killed as part of a cruel genocide, be forgotten as if you never were. But it's also a city where you can be completely free to be whatever it is you are at any given moment, and to be judged would be odd or simply irrelevant. If you find yourself judging, you haven’t been here long enough, or you went on vacation for too long. And if you're a grumpy one like myself, then the city will love you, for grumpiness is a good common denominator that will make you one with this city. And while you may try to belong, Vienna doesn't need you to belong; it just requires you to pick up your dog’s shit, and even that isn't a must but much appreciated. Even a stranger who won’t look at you or talk to you may well thank you for being so considerate.

But like the bitterly cold wind that rules in winter, you move back and forth between this place and that place, coffee in hand, croissant in the other, realizing that you're part of a world city that lives on, season by season, while you descend and ascend in your emotions. Learning the greatest lesson of all: that if you find yourself here, you'll find yourself everywhere.