Praha

Unfortunately, since internet access is limited throughout my travels, I won't be able to update as frequently as I'd like to (although I guess I haven't really been doing a good job of that lately anyhow...ha). However, I am keeping a travel journal, blue pen and lamp-shade notebook, which I am writing in every day. So I will do my best to put up the entries from each country in a single entry, separated by the dates on which I've written.



Notes from the travel journal, March 15-17, 2008



3.15.2008 Leaving. Again.

Wow, sitting at Birmingham International Airport, eating Italian food with Bob and Robbie, and awaiting a European adventure that is sure to be grand. Birmingham Airport is surprisingly larger and more active than I'd imagined. Where are these people going? Are their travels going to be as far-reaching and surreal as my own?

I wonder how adventurous I'll really be these five weeks. Will I get a chance to roam by myself? Will I run and travel and investigate and learn these cities? I hope so. I'd rather be a loval than a tourist, but I know that isn't really a possibility. I guess I'll take what I can get, and I'm certain I will get so much.

Prague is supposed to be one of the most beautiful cities in the world, and I look forward to relishing in the beauty. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd wind up in Europe, let alone the Czech Republic. I guess it's only fitting that I visit there, considering my heritage.

But I'm also excited for more of a unique travel experience. I could've easily chosen Rome, with its ancient, widespread history; beautiful architecture AND weather; and yummy food. I feel, though, that choosing Prague and Berlin was such a better choice because I don't know if I'll ever really go back there again. So, hopefully, I will be able to say I've made the right choice.

***

I'm in Prague! Is this really happening?! Airport signs in Czech, street signs in Czech, a decidedly Eastern European feel. Oh my goodness, I'm in Prague. Dorothy, you really aren't in Kansas anymore.

3.16.2008 Czechs are the most non-religious people in the world, and yet we have more saints than the Spaniards.

To recount the beauty of the last thirty hours would take years.

We landed in Prague after a short (2 hours) flight. Imagine: in less than the time it takes me to fly from Atlanta to Kansas City, I flew from England, over Amsterdam, Germany and more, and arrived in Prague, an entirely different world than the UK. We arrived at the bustling Czech airport, made it through customs with ease--mostly, because I got stuck behind a foreign diplomat who bickered with the customs agent about something I couldn't quite make out--collected our baggage (which, unfortunately, for me is a medium-sized rolly suitcase that's bright blue and fully stuffed), and emerged on Prague, plus three more students: three girls going to school in London and one of who attends GA Tech.

After piling into two shuttle vans (ours literally had a trailer/wagon hitched on the back to hold our luggage. Maddie Rockstar kept her carry-on with her in the trailer fell off...), we took a short car ride to our botel. That's right, it's not a hotel, it's a BOTEL. A hotel on a boat on the river--SO amazing! My roomie Liz, who I know from Leicester, and I luckily got a room with a view of the river, beautiful morning scenes for sure.

We dropped our belongings quickly at the botel and were then off again with Simon, our trusty tour guide and friend from London Orientation ("Jack the Ripper..."). Before our traditional Czech dinner, Simon showed us New Town and Old Town by night. And all I can remember thinking as we ascended Muzeum station was who if this city is so breathtaking at night, I cannot possibly fathom it by day. Prague truly is one of the most beautiful cities in the world and probably THE most beautiful (well, besides Las Vegas...) city I've ever seen in my life.

As I've thought while in London and in Paris, it's amazing and astonishing to realize how affected (or unaffected) cities were during World War II. Prague, fortunately, remained almost completely untouched during the war--the Germans didn't bomb it beacuase the city, and the rest of Czechoslovakia, was under its control; and the Allies didn't touch it because it was an occupied territor. In fact, it's so surreal to remember that these cities are hundreds of years older thn the country I come from...

Which can be seen in the absolutely exquisite architecture around Old Town--Tyn Cathedral, the Jewish Quarter, the astronimcal clock, and Prague Castle. The lights on Tyn Cathedral illumnate the sky: orange twinkles peaking out from jet-black spires. Simon told us a bit about what surrounds the town square but, seeing that we were all starving, we went to the restaurant for our traditional Czech meal, complete with roasted duck, sweet and sour cabbage, and bread AND potato dumplings.

Eating Czech food without my family was a strange experience, to say the least. I know practially nothing about my heritage, but, last night, I continually felt the need to let it be know I am Czech and have indeed tasted Czech food on numerous occasions. I'm beginning to think that Prague is making me want to know my relatives and where I come from more than I do. In the same way I can hardly fathom the amount of history in this and other European countries compared to my own country, it is both difficult and painful for me to think about the amount of suffering other Czechs have gone through compared to me. Granted, I don't in any wya think I've had a hard life. I'm studying abroad, for God's sake. But, as I've learned yesterday and today, the Czechs have been persecuted so much--by Austrians, Germans, Russians, etc.--continually through their long history, and I wonder if this discrimination has had any impact on the way I've been raised and the way I view life at all...

After dinner, we went back out to Old Town and to the Jewish Quarter, where we saw the oldest synagogue in Europe and heard stories about a misbehaving Golem. The cemetery in the Jewish Quarter was completely eerie: so many people have been buried there that the ground is rising above the wall that surrounds the graveyard. Standing there, outside the graveyard on a somewhat abandoned street, I immediately thought of my failed attempts to visit Pere Lachaise. Hopefully I’ll have a chance to go back to this cemetery as well as the one at Pere Lachaise. For some reason, the dead are so fascinating to me.

Today was another long day: attempts to wake up early ad run (no running, but at least I got up), a surprisingly delicious breakfast and then collected by Simon to head back to Old Town. Simon really is an amazing tour guide, although a bit frazzled; we were unable to buy metro tickets at the station, forcing Simon to have to run, literally, back to the hotel and buy them from the front desk, but allowing us to wander around the small market stands set up, full of colorfully painted Easter eggs and wooden flying men.

Finally boarded the train at Andél and rode two stops to Republicky, where we began our walk along the Royal Route, the path newly anointed kings would take up to Prague Castle. Once again, Prague is absolutely exquisite, full of baroque and gothic architecture mixed with surprising elements of Cubism (apparently Cubism started in Prague) and 20th century modernism. Discussions about absinth, Mozart’s organ at St. Nicholas’s Church, wandering around the grounds of Prague Castle, klebasa sausage and chocolate-covered strawberries, and back to the Botel for a little freshening up.

As the night wore on and grew a bit colder, people and things began getting a little testy. Robbie, Bob and I had tickets to Mozart Marionette (a puppet version of Mozart’s Don Giovanni) and plans to meet up with Canada Kelsey, who was in Prague with friends. On our way to get more chocolate strawberries, we saw Kelsey by the astronomical clock and called out to her excitedly. Just as excitedly, she ran over to us and, because coins were falling out of her pocket, turned around to grab them and tripped over the curb!!! She was obviously hurt—she couldn’t mover her foot—but she hobbled to the puppet theater, using Bob as a makeshift crutch. The show was bizarrely entertaining, but, sitting next to Kelsey, I could tell she was in pain. So, after the show, she informed us she needed to go to the hospital. A chocolate waffle cone from Haagen Daaz and a kind cabbie lifted our spirits, but, after seeing Kelsey off, it was apparent that we all needed to go home to bed.

The very tired experience of our second night here made me a bit worried to travel with Bob for the next few weeks. I absolutely love her and am so excited to spend time with her, but I know my own personality and I know how I handle other people when they or I am annoyed. Indecision and frustration drive me crazy, so we’ll see what happens.

March 17, 2008 Apple Bottom Jeans, boots with the hoods…
Awoke in a beautiful Praha once again and actually made it out my door to go running—didn’t make it out the lobby door, though…there’s no way I was running in the rain!

So a shower, some productivity, filling breakfast and off to climb Petrin Hill. A smaller version of the Eiffel Tower sits atop the hill, and Simon said he’d buy whoever climbed to the top a pint. Of course, we accepted his challenge, and, 299 steps later, like Rocky Balboa, victory was ours! After taking in the glorious views, we descended the tower and found ourselves in a hall of mirrors, where Bob and I turned into legitimate midgets—oompa loompas!

Having our fill of fun atop Petrin Hill, we decided to go back down to town and eat and explore before our boat tour. Rather than ride the tram down, I decided to walk, which allowed me a couple of badly needed hours to myself. Snapping photos of flowers and statures, wishing I had my book because of all of the benches scattered around the park, and making my way to Charles Bridge, I thought back to my original 5-week travel plans and, once again, my propensity for being alone. I think my first experience of being alone in a country where I don’t speak the language—Paris for my birthday—wasn’t really indicative of my ability to navigate cities alone. Walking around Prague, I felt at complete ease. I feel like these past two/three days, I’ve had a short fling with Prague: I’ve gotten to know this it as well as it could’ve allowed me with the short time we’ve been given, and, even if Prague has meant more to me than I’ve mean to it, this short trip has been one of the most amazing love affairs ever.

I strolled through Kampa Park before the boat tour, finding several unique statues and an interesting-looking modern art museum, but no John Lennon Wall, a wall that a bunch of Czech Hippies (and, subsequently, international tourists) graffitied after John Lennon’s death. Meeting up with the rest of the group, I found the wall, with a little help from Spence and Mike Ressegue. The wall was one of the most emotional works of “art” I’ve ever seen: the pain and suffering of the 1960s culminates on this wall, but the anger that the world felt at that time is also washed away by the love and hope that can be seen and read and heard in the Beatles lyrics written on the wall. From “Blackbird,” I wrote:

“You were only waiting for this moment to be free.”

I think that quote is as much about John Lennon’s death and the implications surrounding it as it is my own life. This entire experience has been a learning experience, for one, as well as an opportunity to set my soul free (and not in an extremely cliché way). Once again, I need to quit stifling myself and just let myself go, wholly and truly. Like the words of the Beatles, I’ve just been waiting for this moment to do it.

***

The boat tour was rather chill and relaxing, and afterwards we split off once more. Robbie and I wandered to the Jewish Quarter to see the cemetery, where over 100,000 Jews have been buried. Unfortunately, like Pere Lachaise, the cemetery was closed by the time we got there, but we were still able to see the mounds and mounds of gravestones in the yard. Next, we visited the Salvador Dali and Alphonse Mucha Exhibitions in Old Town. Both were amazing, though a bit bizarre since the works on display were numbered prints (or etched plates or woven rugs…) rather than the actual works. I definitely enjoyed the Mucha exhbit more, both because I love the style of Art Nouveau and because Mucha worked with lithographs, so his works fit better than Dali’s with the method of exhibition.

Staring at Mucha’s works, I came to the conclusion that, for my history minor, I am either going to concentrate in Art Nouveau or Art Deco. Both styles are absolutely exquisite—if I had to be immortalized in any art style (after film noir, of course), I would be ever remembered in one of these styles.

We finished at the art exhibitions and headed towards Charles Bridge to meet up with the Black Light Theatre group and collect our free pints from Simon. On the way to the bridge, I fulfilled all of my Russian czarina fantasies and bought a rabbit fur hat. Robbie says I look like the young, hot wife of a Russian oil tycoon. Perfect.

Then we broke off again, visited the Communist Museum which was (un)surprisingly full of anti-Communist propaganda, ironically. We watched a video of riots in St. Wenceslas Square during Communist rule—students being bludgeoned and hosed by the police as they protested Russian invasion. In 1968, a 21-year-old college student burnt himself to death in the same square in protest of the Communist regime. Reading about the lengths he went to for a cause he believed in made me realize how apathetic I and the majority of my generation are. I’ve had many conversations with professors and fellow students about the lack of action taken by college students (in general) to make some changes in today’s world. The more I try to educate myself about what’s going on in the world and how I can make a difference, the more I constantly have fear that there’s nothing I can do. Unless others start joining in, I feel like my efforts would be completely worthless.

***

We met up with the rest of the family, D. Schultz and Mike Ressegue and headed to Albert for train munchies for tomorrow before taking the train from Mustek to Andél, home. We had planned on eating Mexican food, but when we got to the restaurant, there wee no available tables. The boys were willing to wait, but Bob, Robbie and I were hungry and ready to eat. So after a few indecisive discussions, the three of us departed down the street, leaving the boys outside of Hombre and heading towards an Italian restaurant. Robbie and I operate a similar manner in that we absolutely cannot stand indecision. On the other hand, Bob, as she put it, “hates leaving people behind,” and Robbie and I both began to feel a little guilty about our reactions to and treatment of certain situations. I’ve always had an issue with indecision and being a burden on my surroundings/in the way. If something doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out, so there is no reason to try to make it work, particularly if you’ve been told several times that it isn’t possible. I can be as persuasive/pushy as the next person, but if it’s not worth it to continue pushing, you shouldn’t.

I’m not saying that I give up easily—I’m very stubborn, and I’ll work extremely hard to get what I want—but in many cases, it just isn’t an option to get your way, and you should just accept this. However, Bob also said that there’s no reason to rush people: if they need time, they need time. Once again, I guess there are certain aspects of my personality that aren’t conducive to agreeing with other people’s personalities. I think I am just too much like my mother—too independent, too unwilling to compromise (in some aspects). Maybe over the next 3 weeks, Bob’s and my ways of doing things will influence each other a little bit...

Which was another conclusion drawn from the dinner conversation, but one that comforted me rather than make me feel uneasy. After the day’s events, I came to the realization that it’s absolutely impossible for me to spend the next 5 weeks running around day in and day out—it just isn’t a possibility at all. Luckily, Bob fees the same way. So, our $14,000 European vacation will be spent relaxing and roaming as well as taking in actual sites, museums, etc. I have a feeling once I’m in Italy, I’ll want to see as much as possible, so when I get there, hopefully I’ll be able to narrow it to a few key attractions and so I can spend more time absorbing, taking it all in.

***

After dinner, Robbie and I decided to grab a night cap at the Admiral Botel bar before packing and calling it a night. All day, Robbie had been trying to e-mail the internship coordinator at Sotheby’s to set up his interview for this summer, but Bob’s Blackberry wouldn’t connect to the internet and our botel doesn’t have accessible wireless. So after many attempts, he called New York to explain the problem and orchestrate his interview date—and they started the interview right then!!

Robbie’s phone was about to die, so he rushed into his room—I asked if it had died and he mouthed, “I’m on the phone right now!” He plugged it into the charger, and Bob, John-Mark and I quickly realized he was in the middle of the interview; needless to say we went next door to Bob and Maddie Rockstar’s room to give him privacy. About 10 minutes later, Robbie came in as well…and told us he got the internship at SOTHEBY’S!!!! Bob and I immediately jumped up and started screaming; AH, I am so proud/jealous of him!!! Working at an auction house in New York is one of my many dream jobs, so hopefully I’ll visit him this summer and see the secret life of an NYC intern.

Of course, after that amazing news, drinks and celebrations were in order. The three of us went up to the Botel bar—which actually is quite tragic, empty and exuding the feel of a dying cruise ship. However, I found it absolutely fabulous and glamorous, and we ordered cocktails and tiramisu and sat for awhile. Spence, Mike and Dave joined us a little while later, and we all drank casually, me writing postcards from Prague, Bob in her pajamas, and everyone sleepy and content. Matt Cummings came up and drunkenly entertained us—it was his birthday and St. Patty’s day, so he was completely entitled.

And tomorrow I’ll leave Prague, early, and who knows if I’ll ever return to my Motherland of sorts. But it was beautiful while it lasted.