Vilnius #3

So the next morning we walked around again, enjoyed the beautiful old town. We bought something in a supermarket, again, and I cooked a little brunch for John. He took his guitar and showed me how to play “Blowing in the Wind” by Bob Dylan with just three chords. As I fingered around on John’s twelve string guitar, a Turkish guy who looked pretty upset entered the room.

He told us somebody stole his money. It turned out to be the youngish guy that was glued to the computer the other day. He had lied about working in the hostel and that he could buy a ticket online, after Ibraim (John liked to call him Abraham) handed him 450 LT or 150 Euros. I turned on the computer, and found out our thief had forgotten to logout out of his gmail account. So I spent the next few hours finding out more about him then he’d probably know himself. I even found a copy of his passport, a bunch of Internet nicknames, correspondance that the hostel employee kindly translated – and I googled Sergej Krejmer or Sekre_Group, whose name I mention here because he has a criminal track record on the Internet (selling domain names without delivering them, among other things). Dear reader: beware of him!

After gathering all this information, we went to the police where Ibraim issued a formal statement, helped by a lot of officers and an interpreter. John started to call me Sherlock Holmes, and had me say “Elementary, Watson, elementary” to him. It felt kind of good.

We walked to the Old Town, where John pulled out his guitar and began to sing. I walked next to him carrying his guitar case. And so we walked, pretty proud of our investigation for Ibraim, which John gradually inflated to biblical proportions as we went on. The Beast had shown his face here, I learned, but we where on the winning side. “Hallelujah!” he said, and “Jesus loves you! Jesus mil jus!”. We ended up in a pizza restaurant where John played for twins that celebrated their 20th birthday. Once you start noticing, everything gets biblical connotations.

That night I went out with an Italian guy and two Australian girls, who were so unfortunate to have met John as well. One of their sisters happened to be lesbian, and in a tough discussion where they had to pull the words out of John, John proclaimed homosexuality a sin, got quite graphical about the wrong body entrances, and yes, said that the young woman would go to hell unless she’d be “delivered” of that sin. It made the Australian girls really angry, and they cursed John on our way to a pub. As I had expected, they suggested John to shove his guitar in the very body entrance whose limited functionality he had pointed out earlier.

We went to a dark pub and had a beer. As we found a few big bald guys in front of it, telling things like “we hate people, we are full of hatred” to the Australian girls, who opted to leave soon after that.

Back in the hostel there was a visitor. The criminal was back! He was so stupid to show up again, asking for a place to stay. We sent him away, after I told him about all I knew about him. You should have seen his face, as I summed up his nicknames, his exact age, his victims, his friends, and his passport issue date. It was a delight (though I don’t see it as an act of goodness. It was a pretty mean thing to do as well. Alas, the criminal gave me an excuse to be mean and feel good about it). After a while, the Italian guy and Ibraim came back and we decided to go actually catch him. We went to the station, where we find him. We confronted him with his theft and requested the money back. Sergej K. shrugged and told me in German he was broke. We all had enough and I really didn’t believe him. So we called the police, who came after some 20 minutes, searched him, and took him in.

At half past five, I lay my head down, with Tom Waits humming “Sea of Love” playing piano from my mobile.

The sunset was really wonderful.

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Vilnius #3

So the next morning we walked around again, enjoyed the beautiful old town. We bought something in a supermarket, again, and I cooked a little brunch for John. He took his guitar and showed me how to play “Blowing in the Wind” by Bob Dylan with just three chords. As I fingered around on John’s twelve string guitar, a Turkish guy who looked pretty upset entered the room.

He told us somebody stole his money. It turned out to be the youngish guy that was glued to the computer the other day. He had lied about working in the hostel and that he could buy a ticket online, after Ibraim (John liked to call him Abraham) handed him 450 LT or 150 Euros. I turned on the computer, and found out our thief had forgotten to logout out of his gmail account. So I spent the next few hours finding out more about him then he’d probably know himself. I even found a copy of his passport, a bunch of Internet nicknames, correspondance that the hostel employee kindly translated – and I googled Sergej Krejmer or Sekre_Group, whose name I mention here because he has a criminal track record on the Internet (selling domain names without delivering them, among other things). Dear reader: beware of him!

After gathering all this information, we went to the police where Ibraim issued a formal statement, helped by a lot of officers and an interpreter. John started to call me Sherlock Holmes, and had me say “Elementary, Watson, elementary” to him. It felt kind of good.

We walked to the Old Town, where John pulled out his guitar and began to sing. I walked next to him carrying his guitar case. And so we walked, pretty proud of our investigation for Ibraim, which John gradually inflated to biblical proportions as we went on. The Beast had shown his face here, I learned, but we where on the winning side. “Hallelujah!” he said, and “Jesus loves you! Jesus mil jus!”. We ended up in a pizza restaurant where John played for twins that celebrated their 20th birthday. Once you start noticing, everything gets biblical connotations.

That night I went out with an Italian guy and two Australian girls, who were so unfortunate to have met John as well. One of their sisters happened to be lesbian, and in a tough discussion where they had to pull the words out of John, John proclaimed homosexuality a sin, got quite graphical about the wrong body entrances, and yes, said that the young woman would go to hell unless she’d be “delivered” of that sin. It made the Australian girls really angry, and they cursed John on our way to a pub. As I had expected, they suggested John to shove his guitar in the very body entrance whose limited functionality he had pointed out earlier.

We went to a dark pub and had a beer. As we found a few big bald guys in front of it, telling things like “we hate people, we are full of hatred” to the Australian girls, who opted to leave soon after that.

Back in the hostel there was a visitor. The criminal was back! He was so stupid to show up again, asking for a place to stay. We sent him away, after I told him about all I knew about him. You should have seen his face, as I summed up his nicknames, his exact age, his victims, his friends, and his passport issue date. It was a delight (though I don’t see it as an act of goodness. It was a pretty mean thing to do as well. Alas, the criminal gave me an excuse to be mean and feel good about it). After a while, the Italian guy and Ibraim came back and we decided to go actually catch him. We went to the station, where we find him. We confronted him with his theft and requested the money back. Sergej K. shrugged and told me in German he was broke. We all had enough and I really didn’t believe him. So we called the police, who came after some 20 minutes, searched him, and took him in.

At half past five, I lay my head down, with Tom Waits humming “Sea of Love” playing piano from my mobile.

The sunset was really wonderful.

Vilnius #3

So the next morning we walked around again, enjoyed the beautiful old town. We bought something in a supermarket, again, and I cooked a little brunch for John. He took his guitar and showed me how to play “Blowing in the Wind” by Bob Dylan with just three chords. As I fingered around on John’s twelve string guitar, a Turkish guy who looked pretty upset entered the room.


He told us somebody stole his money. It turned out to be the youngish guy that was glued to the computer the other day. He had lied about working in the hostel and that he could buy a ticket online, after Ibraim (John liked to call him Abraham) handed him 450 LT or 150 Euros. I turned on the computer, and found out our thief had forgotten to logout out of his gmail account. So I spent the next few hours finding out more about him then he’d probably know himself. I even found a copy of his passport, a bunch of Internet nicknames, correspondance that the hostel employee kindly translated – and I googled Sergej Krejmer or Sekre_Group, whose name I mention here because he has a criminal track record on the Internet (selling domain names without delivering them, among other things). Dear reader: beware of him!

After gathering all this information, we went to the police where Ibraim issued a formal statement, helped by a lot of officers and an interpreter. John started to call me Sherlock Holmes, and had me say “Elementary, Watson, elementary” to him. It felt kind of good.

We walked to the Old Town, where John pulled out his guitar and began to sing. I walked next to him carrying his guitar case. And so we walked, pretty proud of our investigation for Ibraim, which John gradually inflated to biblical proportions as we went on. The Beast had shown his face here, I learned, but we where on the winning side. “Hallelujah!” he said, and “Jesus loves you! Jesus mil jus!”. We ended up in a pizza restaurant where John played for twins that celebrated their 20th birthday. Once you start noticing, everything gets biblical connotations.

That night I went out with an Italian guy and two Australian girls, who were so unfortunate to have met John as well. One of their sisters happened to be lesbian, and in a tough discussion where they had to pull the words out of John, John proclaimed homosexuality a sin, got quite graphical about the wrong body entrances, and yes, said that the young woman would go to hell unless she’d be “delivered” of that sin. It made the Australian girls really angry, and they cursed John on our way to a pub. As I had expected, they suggested John to shove his guitar in the very body entrance whose limited functionality he had pointed out earlier.

We went to a dark pub and had a beer. As we found a few big bald guys in front of it, telling things like “we hate people, we are full of hatred” to the Australian girls, who opted to leave soon after that.

Back in the hostel there was a visitor. The criminal was back! He was so stupid to show up again, asking for a place to stay. We sent him away, after I told him about all I knew about him. You should have seen his face, as I summed up his nicknames, his exact age, his victims, his friends, and his passport issue date. It was a delight (though I don’t see it as an act of goodness. It was a pretty mean thing to do as well. Alas, the criminal gave me an excuse to be mean and feel good about it). After a while, the Italian guy and Ibraim came back and we decided to go actually catch him. We went to the station, where we find him. We confronted him with his theft and requested the money back. Sergej K. shrugged and told me in German he was broke. We all had enough and I really didn’t believe him. So we called the police, who came after some 20 minutes, searched him, and took him in.

At half past five, I lay my head down, with Tom Waits humming “Sea of Love” playing piano from my mobile.

The sunset was really wonderful.

Vilnius #2

My second day in Vilnius began with a simple breakfast together with the cleaning ladies. They were really working too hard, vacuum cleaning the community room several times, and doing my dishes, despite of a paper on the wall that read

Your mum doesn’t work here,
so wash everything you use by yourself.

I pointed at it, or at the Lithuanian translation of it, and earned a proper smile.
In our hostel was a young man, more like a boy, who was using the internet all the time. He looked a little bit strange and it annoyed me because I wanted to work on the computer he was using.

I went for a walk again, explored more of Vilnius’ Old Town, saw some beautiful churches actually. An interesting aspect was the blend of styles. There was a church with gothic as well as Byzantine elements that looked like a fairy tale building. As I went inside an old woman gave me strange looks – because I hadn’t bought and lit a candle, I discovered soon afterwards. The lord wants to be worshipped, and that means to be paid for.

A cafe engulped me shortly after that, and I wrote a couple of pages under influence of very good coffee. Later on, I went back to the cafe I had been the other day and ordered the soup of the day again. At the table next to me, an illuster trio had an interesting conversation. An older Russian with a grey beard, a middle aged Lithuanian man that looked a little bit like the killer in No Country For Old Men, and a little fragile lady, sitting between the two literary colossae and asking them about their opinion about the play they had just seen together. The Russian talked about the impossibility to translate Tchechov, and the younger man about the plays he had staged recently, and that the youth was spoiled of course. They had a funny term for it, vidiots, ie. idiots watching only video, with an ever narrower frame of concentration.

My own concentration dropped below productivity level, and I left. Back in the hostel, I ran into an older and balder man. He introduced himself as John and repeatedly added “Hallelujah!”. He carried a guitar with him and sang enthusiastically for Jesus. We walked through Vilnius together, in search of something small to eat, and we ended up in a 24-hour supermarket where we found nutella. For those familiar to it, it makes you feel really good…

Vilnius #2

My second day in Vilnius began with a simple breakfast together with the cleaning ladies. They were really working too hard, vacuum cleaning the community room several times, and doing my dishes, despite of a paper on the wall that read

Your mum doesn’t work here,
so wash everything you use by yourself.

I pointed at it, or at the Lithuanian translation of it, and earned a proper smile.
In our hostel was a young man, more like a boy, who was using the internet all the time. He looked a little bit strange and it annoyed me because I wanted to work on the computer he was using.

I went for a walk again, explored more of Vilnius’ Old Town, saw some beautiful churches actually. An interesting aspect was the blend of styles. There was a church with gothic as well as Byzantine elements that looked like a fairy tale building. As I went inside an old woman gave me strange looks – because I hadn’t bought and lit a candle, I discovered soon afterwards. The lord wants to be worshipped, and that means to be paid for.

A cafe engulped me shortly after that, and I wrote a couple of pages under influence of very good coffee. Later on, I went back to the cafe I had been the other day and ordered the soup of the day again. At the table next to me, an illuster trio had an interesting conversation. An older Russian with a grey beard, a middle aged Lithuanian man that looked a little bit like the killer in No Country For Old Men, and a little fragile lady, sitting between the two literary colossae and asking them about their opinion about the play they had just seen together. The Russian talked about the impossibility to translate Tchechov, and the younger man about the plays he had staged recently, and that the youth was spoiled of course. They had a funny term for it, vidiots, ie. idiots watching only video, with an ever narrower frame of concentration.

My own concentration dropped below productivity level, and I left. Back in the hostel, I ran into an older and balder man. He introduced himself as John and repeatedly added “Hallelujah!”. He carried a guitar with him and sang enthusiastically for Jesus. We walked through Vilnius together, in search of something small to eat, and we ended up in a 24-hour supermarket where we found nutella. For those familiar to it, it makes you feel really good…

Vilnius #2

My second day in Vilnius began with a simple breakfast together with the cleaning ladies. They were really working too hard, vacuum cleaning the community room several times, and doing my dishes, despite of a paper on the wall that read

Your mum doesn’t work here,
so wash everything you use by yourself.

I pointed at it, or at the Lithuanian translation of it, and earned a proper smile.
In our hostel was a young man, more like a boy, who was using the internet all the time. He looked a little bit strange and it annoyed me because I wanted to work on the computer he was using.

I went for a walk again, explored more of Vilnius’ Old Town, saw some beautiful churches actually. An interesting aspect was the blend of styles. There was a church with gothic as well as Byzantine elements that looked like a fairy tale building. As I went inside an old woman gave me strange looks – because I hadn’t bought and lit a candle, I discovered soon afterwards. The lord wants to be worshipped, and that means to be paid for.

A cafe engulped me shortly after that, and I wrote a couple of pages under influence of very good coffee. Later on, I went back to the cafe I had been the other day and ordered the soup of the day again. At the table next to me, an illuster trio had an interesting conversation. An older Russian with a grey beard, a middle aged Lithuanian man that looked a little bit like the killer in No Country For Old Men, and a little fragile lady, sitting between the two literary colossae and asking them about their opinion about the play they had just seen together. The Russian talked about the impossibility to translate Tchechov, and the younger man about the plays he had staged recently, and that the youth was spoiled of course. They had a funny term for it, vidiots, ie. idiots watching only video, with an ever narrower frame of concentration.

My own concentration dropped below productivity level, and I left. Back in the hostel, I ran into an older and balder man. He introduced himself as John and repeatedly added “Hallelujah!”. He carried a guitar with him and sang enthusiastically for Jesus. We walked through Vilnius together, in search of something small to eat, and we ended up in a 24-hour supermarket where we found nutella. For those familiar to it, it makes you feel really good…

Vilnius

The overnight bus took me all the way to the Lithuanian capital, where I arrived around ten. I went straight to the “A” Hostel, a place which was cheap and functional. I slept in a Japanese pod-bed, that is a tiny cabin per person, ten in a dormitory. I threw my backpack on the mattress, paid the bed in advance and went for a walk. It was a short walk to the Old Town, and from a Belarusian woman with beautiful shining blue eyes I learned about a ‘cafe de Paris’, and decided to go there that night. I went to some cafe, opened my notebook and wrote a couple of hours.

When I became hungry I went back to the hostel, cooked some noodles in the water heater, and mixed them with peanuts and crab stick I bought in the supermarket. The result was a real calorie rich meal that I enjoyed in solitude. In the background the BBC analyzed the current financial crisis on a large flat screen TV, I learned about the near bankruptcy of the country of Iceland, among other things.

In the evening I went to the French cafe and had a glass of local cider. Always go for the local products, they are more affordable, they taste better, and the have a smaller ecological footprint! I studied a magazine with a few articles offered both in Lithuanian and in English, but got not far. I joined a group of female students in a conversation about nothing special.

The night was quiet, and I must have spent it looking fascinated at the breaking of the light in the bathroom.