The reason I'm here, part 9723012938

Surprise surprise, I woke up sick yesterday. Just a standard cold again, but I'm really impressed with how much I've managed to be sick this semester!

I decided that since I had yet to take any sick days, I might as well take one yesterday, since almost no one would be in class (May 1st is a national holiday, so most people took long trips this weekend and came back today). I called in and told them I wouldn't be there, then went back to sleep for the rest of the morning.

Once I woke up, I spent my day actually being productive. I started and finished my final project for my producing class, and wrote the one-page trip report I had to do to get out of going on two trips with school. But before I could do more, it was time for me to accompany the family to a Czech traditional witch burning.


On the last day of April every year, Czechs burn the symbols of winter and welcome spring. I'm not sure how, but I was told that it was a witch burning, which leads me to believe that there was at least one point in history when they really did burn witches. Don't worry, they don't anymore. Now it's turned into more of a block-party type of thing, with villages raising money from their residents and breaking out the grills and the bonfires.

We began the evening with a walk through the "Czech Grand Canyon," a 5km valley on the opposite side of the river from our house that was carved out by a small river. It's a really nice place to walk (or, as Tomas pointed out, a nice place to go with a girl when you're 14. Yes, he said 14). Then we walked through the village over there and ended up at a big soccer field, where the bonfire was already burning.

About a hundred villagers (or village people, as Jonas called them with a smile) were milling about at picnic tables, playing soccer (we had apparently just missed the big match against their rival town), or warming themselves by the fire (it's been chilly here the past few days), all to the tune of a real, live, authentic, cowboy hat and boot wearing, beard sporting, guitar playing, Czech singing country western band. Bad Moon Rising never sounded so good (and the whole "there's a bathroom on the right" thing apparently doesn't work in Czech).

Tomaš and Zuzana have friends in this village, and they were there with their daughter. We all treated ourselves to a sausage and a beer and settled down on a bench near the fire (two fast-food style culinary delights I will miss: sausages and gyros/doner kebabs. How will I live without them?). Jonaš and I got to have some really nice conversations about movies and other stuff, and he was doing a prodigious job switching between speaking to me in English and to the other couple's daughter, who only spoke Czech.

The man of the couple spoke English very well (he's a businessman for an American company's branch in Prague), and he was a really great guy, so we got to talking quickly. He was really interested in what I thought of Prague, if I liked the food, what I thought of living with the Jančářiks, and about me in general.

And of course, with a little alcohol, the conversation quickly got very interesting. Things I learned last night:

-When asked what my favorite part of living in the house was, I quickly answered that it was my morning breakfasts with Tomaš, where we try to talk to each other about important things like politics, but have so much trouble understanding each other that we end up just resorting to "I think it's stupid!" "I agree!" Tomas, however, then told everyone that he always thinks we understand each other perfectly, until he finds out later in the day that he hasn't understood a word.

-On just about a nightly basis, I tell Tomas and Zuzana as I'm leaving the house, "I'm going to Dan's." Well, for the past three months they've apparently thought I was saying "I'm going to dance."

Which got me wondering...what on Earth did they think of me all these months...

The night wore on, the fire began to turn into embers, and I of coursed felt it the appropriate time to ask Jonaš where the marshmallows were. "Oh, we don't really do that here." WHAAAAAA???? Yes, that is correct folks, they don't roast marshmallows by the fire outside of the US and Canada. With the fire at the perfect temperature, I was dying for a s'more, and I said so to Jonas. "What's a s'more?"

It feels like I've been waiting a lifetime for the proper time to actually use this quote in context. "YOU'RE KILLING ME, SMALLS!"

The evening ended with a delightfully enjoyable, though slightly awkward for both of us, dance with Zuzana. Apparently I'm a good dancer. They certainly think so, with all the practice I've apparently had.

As midnight approached, we headed back to the tram...but there's still time for another drink right? (Jesu Maria! Zuzana cried) Two bars later, we resorted to a Herna bar (the ones open nonstop with casino games in them) down the block. When even that was closed, it was time to head home. We had a family snack, and all went to bed.

May 1st is a holiday in a lot of places, and here it was started as Labor Day during communism. Since 89, it's not called Labor Day, but they still get the day off. Everything closes, and people just kinda chill all day. I took the cue, woke up late, and then had yet another productive day. With only two papers between me and the end of my semester, I decided today was the day to just crank out one of them. So I did. Unfortunately that also meant I didn't post any pictures...

By the way, the Prague Post tells me

The Czech Republic and other East European countries serve the world’s unhealthiest fast food, according to a Danish study. Nutritionist Steen Stender said that fast food here contains some of the highest levels of trans fat, which he called a “silent killer.” (Don't believe me?)

I dislike FedEx

What if Run Lola Run and Cast Away had an illegitimate love child?

It would be my day yesterday.

Back up. So my license expires on May 10th, nine days before I get home. I'll only be in Chicago for one day, a Sunday, so I can't renew my license. I can't get a license in LA until I'm a legal resident of CA, which happens after 30 days of residence. I need to drive. So mom discovered that the IL Sec of State will issue temporary licenses for situations like this, they just have to mail me some papers to fill out and send back, and then they'll send me the license, but they have to send it here, to the Czech Republic, because the whole point is I'm not in Illinois to renew it.

So these papers are in Prague, at the FedEx office, and for the past two days a delivery guy has come here and left without leaving the package, claiming there was no one home, when Tomas has been here both times (and I've been here one of them). It became clear that this package was just not going to get delivered. So last night, I decided it would be a good idea to go to the FedEx office, halfway to the airport, and get the damn thing myself. I had one hour before they closed to get to the outskirts of Prague, figure out how to get to FedEx, and get the package.

When I got to the metro stop, I had about 20 minutes to find the place. Plenty of time right? Needless to say (let's remember one of the ongoing themes of the past few months) I got slightly turned around and was afforded the opportunity to use my Czech skills with just about anyone on the street who looked nice. I wound my way around an intricate Soviet housing project, asked random people walking for directions, stopped in a bar for some more, and every time I was told something completely different. After I walked in a complete circle, I called up the place, and they told me to go back to the metro station (a 5 minute walk) and then take a bus to get to them, and they assured me that someone would be waiting for me despite their closing in two minutes.

So I got back to the metro station and went to the bus stop she had said. Unfortunately, there were about five buses that came to this stop, and I had no clue which one to get on. I tried to call the office again. Their automated phone system automatically routes calls to a recording after closing hours. I had a feeling for one bus -- but the last one had left literally one minute earlier.

Time to give up. Or is it? The greatest thing about the times I've been lost previously is how they all seem to turn out well for me, somehow. I was all the way out here, I might as well just try something to make this work too. So I asked these two guys if they knew where to go. They had an idea. But were unsure. And one of them was kinda swaying back and forth while he tried to talk to me.

I started to laugh while he was talking to me. Yep, I got directions from a drunk guy.

As the bus they told me to take turned back onto the street I had just walked while retracing my steps back from the housing project to the metro station, I knew I had tried hard enough. I came back home for some dinner.

Epilogue: I decided to skip my Czech class this morning to wait for the package to be delivered. I woke up at 9 to sit outside and wait for the truck, but figured it would probably be a good idea to check out the tracking info online first. Oh, not to worry, it wasn't coming! After I had tried to pick it up at their offices they left it there and didn't put it on the truck this morning! So I guess it's going to be delivered tonight, when I'm on a bus to Berlin.

Czech this morning was as glorious as always (really, this class is worth getting up for even though I went to bed at 5am last night). More bingo, more memorable quotes, more laughs. And in an hour, I leave for a fantastic weekend in Berlin (from Na Florenci street - don't worry, I'm leaving in about five minutes to get there this time). As the days wind down here, I'm reminded of just how much of an adventure it is to just be.

I'm an idiot (or: why I hate Na Florenci street)

So I missed the friggin bus to česky Krumlov.

It wasn't completely my fault (yes it was). I am completely at the mercy of public trans here, so when the tram decides to stop running to my house's tram stop for the week, as it did on Friday night at 8pm, I have to figure out new ways to get places. Now, I was aware of this. I knew I would have to take the metro to get to where the bus was (Na Florenci street...you may remember my previous experience with lateness at this very same place). I just haven't taken the metro from the house in so long that I forgot how long it takes to get there.

So when I went to bed on Friday night, I set my alarm for 7am, giving myself plenty of time to get to the bus by 8:15am. I didn't go out on Friday (rather than spending another minute at Lucerna, I watched a movie on my new favorite website, peekvid.com). But when I went to bed, I looked at my alarm clock once more and thought "you know...I deserve 20 more minutes."

It was one of those annoying situations where you run up to the bus stop, just as the bus is pulling away. And running is damn tough when you have a big backpack on.

Now, some people in this situation, they give up. Having another weekend in Prague wouldn't be that bad, after all, and I didn't really need to see the place. But not me.

I was instantly on the phone, sending text messages to everyone I knew to ask if they were going on this trip. My first positive response was from my friend Huntley (from USC) - perfect! I have a contact! The main bus station in Prague is right next to where I had just watched our bus pull away, so I went down there and asked the lady at the desk for a ticket to Cesky Krumlov. "Busses aren't running there today."

Well shit.

A metro stop away (after I accidentally got on going the wrong direction once and turned around), I found myself at Hlavni Nadraži, the main strain station. The guy at the info desk spoke English very well and informed me that not only was there a train to Cesky Krumlov, but it was leaving in 12 minutes and would arrive in four hours. Yes! My goal was only three trains and a bus ride away! With a sigh, a smile to myself, and a moment of self-reassurance ("I'm gonna do this"), I bought a ticket.

Once I got on the train, I called Huntley and explained my situation. As it turned out, I would be arriving in Krumlov 4 hours before the rest of the group (they made a stop in another town on the way). He gave me the address of the hostel we would be checking into later, I asked him to tell our trip supervisor that I'd meet them there, and I settled into my chair for the long ride.

So, despite the drama, it actually turned out quite well. I got the chance to travel alone for the first time (I don't know why people would think it's difficult. You just have to read signs), and I arrived in Krumlov with four hours to kill on the kind of sunny day when you pray for four hours to kill so you can just walk around. And on the way I made some great new friends - on the first train, there was the Czech guy who was studying to work for Skoda (the Czech car company), and who was nice enough to explain to me why I had to take a bus for only 20 minutes (they were doing construction on the rail line). On the second train, I shared a cabin with a couple who were speaking to each other in Spanish, but the woman addressed me in Czech at first. I asked where they were from - she's Czech, he's English. Interesting.

Cesky Krumlov is a really beautiful place, filled with colorful architecture and lots of fun nooks and crannies to explore. It was a 20 minute walk to town from the train station, and after dropping my stuff at the hostel (and explaining to the woman on duty what my situation was), I immediately treated myself to a huge lunch (see picture above). Then, I set about exploring, walking about every street in town and taking tons of photos. I even stumbled upon a friend from my program, who was in town with her family. When everyone else arrived, I made sure to be sitting in the hostel, having a coffee. The town they had visited on the way hadn't been all too interesting, it turns out. And how the hell did I get there? they all wanted to know.

The hostel itself was outstanding. I shared a room with Huntley (my savior. I bought him a drink) and one other guy, and it was a huge room with a really nice shower. We had some dinner (I knew where all the good places were, having passed them more than a few times in my four hour expedition) and then spent the evening at a local bar playing rock-a-billy music (which we only found because, armed only with the instructions "it's above a water wheel," I knew exactly where to go...because I had passed it before. See? It was all worth it!)

Today was also a lovely day. We were shown around the castle, and given admittance into the incredible Baroque theatre (a building only normally opened three times a year for performances, and one of only three in the world that's been preserved, not reconstructed, since it was finished in the 18th century. LOTS of pictures to come on Flickr). Then we had some free time to roam about the city (like I needed any more), and I visited the Egon Schiele museum and bought a framed poster of one of his incredible paintings.

Then, it was a bus ride back to Prague. I didn't miss this one. But maybe I should have.

So what did I learn from all this? I'll start a new post and talk about it.

Update: Pictures are up on Flickr and Facebook (like before, the Facebook album should work for everyone).

An interesting Friday that I'll never forget.

So the concert on Thursday turned out to be absolutely awesome. It was Tomas's cousin, not his nephew, and he plays this incredible Baroque organ that's powered by two levers that the musician has to push up every so often to keep air running through the instrument. Add to that this sweet Baroque-era cello-looking-thing (which had like 4 extra strings on it to give it a higher range), an early relative of the viola that looked like a mandolin with a six foot neck, and a wonderful singer, and you had a recipe for success.

Friday I had a test in my Czech class, which I of course studied for...afterwards, I headed to Cafe Louvre for lunch and some Prague Post reading, which was the best decision I've ever made. That night I was planning to catch some films that are playing here as part of the One World Documentary Festival. There were too many things that sounded interesting, and all of them were playing yesterday!

So I ended up catching two movies. Out of Balance is about ExxonMobil's contribution to the global warming crisis (they're the only major oil company not to acknowledge there's a problem, and they're the largest private company in the history of mankind). And then at night, Dan, Jonas, and I (and just about every other English-speaking person in Prague) witnessed the heartbreaking, nauseating, wonderful film Jesus Camp. If you haven't seen it, please do. It was fantastic to be a Jew watching this film in a theatre filled with atheists (the Czech Republic is the most atheist country in the world, remember). I understand now, more than ever, how the most common stereotype of Americans is true. People here perceive us as a country of religious zealots. And, to varying degrees, we are.

After the movie Dan and I hung out a bit with a Four Card poker dealer (who robbed us), and then I had the most unnerving experience I've had to date. I come home late nearly every night, which of course means I often run into interesting people in my walk from the tram back up to the house. Last night, I emerged from the underground passage as I always do, and as I was about to cross the street, I heard a voice from the other side. It was a woman, in her mid-30s, very thin but mostly healthy looking in the dark, standing at the bus stop. She was wearing a pink button-down sweater, a long skirt with a slit in the middle, and a pair of boots. She was talking to herself.

A strange sight to be sure. No buses come to that stop late at night. I crossed the street, aware of her staring at me, and silently hoped she wouldn't follow me. So when I heard footsteps start up behind me, the cold clank of boots on cobblestones, I knew I might be in trouble. I kept walking, giving the benefit of the doubt, but figured it might be a good idea to test my theory by crossing the street and seeing if she followed. As I did that she got very close to me. I turned around to see her face, like a deer in headlights.

"Oh I'm sorry, I'm following you."
Heart pounding.
"It's ok."

Brief silence, we stand there, me about to cross the street and her waiting for me to speak. She was helpless.

"Do you need anything?
"Oh I dunno. Just a beer. And a friend."
"Okay"

Okay...I cross the street, her now next to me, and she tried to hook her arm in mine. When I recoiled a bit, she was visibly embarrassed, still trying to feel out the boundaries of our relationship.

She repeated, "it's ok, it's ok. We don't have to do that."
"I mean you no harm."
She laughs at this, relieved. "And I to you as well."

"Where do you live?" I asked, trying to keep her talking and take her mind off of killing me.
"Nowhere now. I am an exile, from Israel"
Heart pounding.
"Jewish?"
"Yes, I am Jewish"

I believe her, and her Israeli accent. We walk on and talk more (I honestly can't remember most of what was said; my mind was racing, and it was nearly 4am). I apologize to her,

"I can't give you the beer."
"Oh that's alright. I'm just trying to live, you know? That's not wrong is it? That's not illegal is it?"
"It's not illegal"
"No!" An unsettling laugh. "It's not illegal!"
"You know, there are places in the city center where you could stay for the night, shelters."
"No, they are too dangerous." She looks at me, right in the eye. "I know everything."

She talks about living in Jerusalem, spitting out her address like it's involuntary, telling me her brother's name and the name of her friend. She's trying to get back to Israel, she says. It's good to have friends, she says.

"Are you an agent of Mossad?" She says.
I don't know what to say at first, and she quickly answers for me with a nervous laugh, "Of course you are not!"
"No, I am American."
Silence.
"How did you end up in Prague?
"Oh...that is a very long story."
"You don't have to tell it then, it's alright."

We walk on, up the hill, and I know I can't let her see where I live, no matter how harmless she seems. So at the turn onto my street I tell her I'm sorry, but this is where I have to leave her. Thankfully, she takes to this well.

"But let me give you some money for a place to stay."
"Oh, thank you so much. That is so wonderful."

I fish the coins out of my pocket, knowing it's not much, but it's better than her stealing my wallet. When I hand it to her, I remember what Elizabeth always said about homeless people and touch - their lack of physical contact with people is often what drives them insane. So I make sure to take her hand as I give her the coins, softly dropping them. She is beaming. She kisses me on both cheeks.

We say goodbye, and she walks back down the hill, calling to me with a rambling monologue about it not being wrong to want to save your friends, and that's not illegal is it? No, it's not. I hear her voice fade away and the clank of her boots with it. I am breathing very heavily. Immediately, I call Dan. He asks if she was hot. We agreed that she must have committed some kind of crime and fled Israel.

So whats the moral of this story? What do I gain from this latest adventure? To be honest, I'm not sure. But I think I did something good last night. And I doubt I'll soon forget it.

worst. night. ever.

I exaggerate a lot. I admit it. But truly, honestly, from the bottom of my heart. This was the worst night ever.

I must start at the beginning. Today was a fine day - more Czech class, and afterwards I went and had my cell phone from home unlocked (the used phone I had bought was great...I just couldn't hear anyone when they called me). With my phone unlocked, I began the trek back home and ran into Evan W in the metro. He turned me around, and we went to a thrift shop in the center of town that he had heard was the best in Prague.

He had heard right, the place was awesome. I'm not much for thrifting because nothing fits me, but I still like seeing places like this. I bought a few ties (so sweet) and a scarf (best buy of the day), and Evan spent 480Kc ($24) on several shirts, 5 ties, a vest, a cardigan, and a plaid suit. Definitely legit place.

Tomorrow, we meet at 8:30am for our day trip, so I wasn't exactly looking to go nuts tonight. But hey, I'm social. I don't need sleep! I'll go out for a bit, catch a few hours, and be a little tired tomorrow, no prob. Everyone else was going out anyways.

So I had dinner at home (goulash, followed by pancakes with jam. heaven) and waited till about 8 before trying to get ahold of anyone. For a change, no one was committing to anything, and finally I just decided to head to Evan's apartment and figure out what was up from there. This was at 9:30.

It's tough to tell when I started to get the feeling that tonight wasn't going to be the best. Maybe it was the realization that this phone, too, has issues (I can receive calls but can't make them, and it loses signal for absolutely no reason). Maybe it was a feeling in the pit of my stomach that I was tired and shouldn't go anywhere for the night. But I really really wanted to wear one of those ties. And hey, I'm a sociable guy, I'll wake up once I see some people.

I made the trek down to the tram, all the while attempting to text Evan that I was on my way. "Sending..." the phone said...and then it failed to deliver the message. I sent again. Five minutes rolls by. It sends. I board the tram, no problem. As I'm getting off again, it's about 10pm, and I text Evan again for directions to his apartment...I waited for it to send...it failed...I sent again and waited...success! (this seems tedious, but it's important) His reply: "go south 2 blocks and turn right on Lozarka. and by right I mean left."

I walked. It snowed. The wind blew. My face froze. Knowing how long it took to send a text message, and that it would probably fail on the first attempt, I quickly texted back "Which building"and waited. Failed. Try again. Failed. Again. Failed. By this time I had walked almost to the previous tram stop. I started to walk back to where I began, looking for the street and trying to send this damn text all the while. This was great; I had a phone that could neither make calls nor receive nor send text messages. Wind. Snow. Cold.

As comedic irony slowly turned into bullshit, and 10:30 turned to 10:45, I began to entertain the thought of just going back home to a cup of tea and a warm bed. And here, my friendly readers, here is where my phone started to mock me. Because when all hope was lost, when I had returned to my starting point and tried walking the other way for a block, I turned the phone off and back on, and found signal again! A quick text message (it worked!), and a short wait for a reply meant another trip the way I had come (howling wind. really literally howling, I've never heard anything like it)...and I found the street! Surely this was it, the payoff for all my hard work! The building would be obvious, or else he would have told me which one it was.

There were two apartment buildings on the street. Neither had a recognizable name on its outside buzzer. I pulled out the phone to tell him I was outside, and was astonished to find...there was no signal. I tried texting. Failed. Again. Failed. I turned the phone off. on. off. on. off. on. off.

...back at the tram stop, as I waited for the tram to come and take me home, I took off the cell phone's back cover, removed the battery, took out the SIM card. Then I turned around and, in a magnificent heaving motion, chucked the phone into the Vltava river.

Ok, no, but I seriously considered it and it sounded super dramatic. It's interesting how much my life depends on technology. Not neccesarliy a good thing (look what just happened to me), but something I have to deal with all the same. I'm getting a new (brand new, not used) phone on Monday, because this is truly ridiculous.

A true adventure

First: happy birthday mom!

I say this blog is for my daily adventures, and let's face it, not every day is an adventure (I can only get lost so many times). But today, Sheldon and Dan stormed back into town from Poland on their way to Israel. Cue adventure music.

I met them in Old Town at about 430, just as it got dark enough for the street lights to come on (it was absolutely incredible weather today - not a cloud in the sky, and all the snow made everything bright and beautiful). We started walking toward a pub, any pub, but were stopped by the Western Union currency exchange...where Dan and Sheldon proceeded to spend 15 minutes trying to figure out whether or not they would be getting ripped off by changing their Polish money to American dollars (to do this in CR, you have to go via Korunas). After grabbing the calculator from the man behind the counter (who was really trying with his English), and yelling for a bit, we were finally on our way again, no money having been exchanged.

Ah, but how could we pass the Swarovski crystal store without going in? Admittedly, Lorraine (Dan's mom) has a fantastic collection of Swarovski crystals. But the timing. Dan and I left Sheldon (who had taken yet another calculator from another clerk in his quest to figure out whether it would be less expensive to buy the piece here) and retired to a nice little bar. Two beers later, no Sheldon.

Realize what the plan had been: they had been under the impression that Czech Airlines allows more luggage than they actually did. To solve their problem (remember how much luggage they brought?), they wanted to leave one of Dan's bags here, with me. Which meant Dan and I were going to take a cab down to Branik (my neighborhood, south of the city) with the bag, and then come back to meet Shelly for dinner.

Well, after lots of attempted conversations with Lorraine (in the USA), one lost pair of gloves (Dan took them off in the crystal store he thinks. Or the exchange place. Point is, they're gone), a recharged cell phone battery (we happened to be sitting next to the store where they had unlocked their cell phones. Of course they were tight with the guy who worked there, who was nice enough to let them charge their phones), and me finishing my homework for tomorrow (score!), the plan had been altered. We would get the bag to my place, grab dinner around here, and they'd go off to the airport.

But first they had to reconfigure their bags. We spent a good half hour in the luggage storage room of the Intercontinental Hotel as Dan, calm and orderly, took out what he needed, and Sheldon, frantically, took vodka shots.

Cab ride home was uneventful (comparably...remember we're talking about two hugely tall men in a small cab filled with hundreds of pounds of luggage, a driver, and another small human being). I awaited, with bated breath, the final meeting of Sheldon and the Jančářik family. Tomas and Sheldon in the same room just seemed way to good to be true.

Oh but it was so true and it was so glorious. I introduced them (and immediately felt horrible for not giving the family proper warning), and after a few frantic moments (Zuzana in her pajamas, the bag they were storing here covered with snow, no one knowing what was going on), we finally settled down, Dan in the library checking their flight status, Sheldon and Tomas polishing off a whiskey bottle (Tomas: "It's not very good", Sheldon (upon tasting it): "This is real shit!").

There are so many things I could say, but I think my personal favorite part of the evening was Sheldon's realization that Tomas spoke German. From then on, Sheldon spoke nearly exclusively in Yiddish, admittedly a related language...but not that related. Zuzana (now changed from her PJs) Tomas, and Jonas (occasionally translating) listened intently as Sheldon told (mostly in Yiddish) jokes and travel stories, described his restaurants, gave Zuzana a recipe for pickles, and generally was his outlandish, strangely charming self. (Dinner, by this time, was pretty out of the question. Oh yeah and the cab was waiting outside this whole time. But don't worry, Shelly had invited the driver to dinner with us. They were tite.)

Anyhow, time did pass and they did leave with a huge laugh from the family here. Phew! As I told Tomas and Zuzana, any other host family would NOT have had the same reaction to the HurriKane (ah! more puns!), so I was very happy.

An insane afternoon/evening. I've been hanging out the rest of the night, trying to memorize the Czech numbers and days of the week. To end it all, another fantastic quote from Tomas, upon my talking about a bar that had closed at midnight even though it was full of people drinking (spoken in Czech, translated by Vaclav):

"Evan, if all of them drank like you, the bar wouldn't do very much business."