The Past Month

Written: 16 November 2011

Holy cow. There is so much to catch up on and so much to write about. It’s been about a month since my last update, but since then, I’ve traveled to Halle-Westfallen (a small town in Germany), Berlin, Krakow, Auschwitz, Brno (second largest city in the Czech Republic), Mikulov (wine country in the Czech Republic), Vienna and Amsterdam. This weekend I am traveling to Budapest and on December 15, I will be visiting Barcelona and Paris for a few days before flying home to Pittsburgh on the 23rd. I will spend 24 hours at home before flying to California for the holidays. Oof. I’m not sure where to start, but I will say that writing down all of my travels is simultaneously helpful and makes my semester seem even more whirlwind-like than it feels. I have about five weeks left of my program, which relatively isn’t much time. Sometimes it still feels like a lot of time; sometimes I can’t believe I’ve been here so long, sometimes I can’t believe I have so much time left. Now that I finally feel at least partially assimilated, and comfortable with my life, in Prague, I can comment more generally about my experience here.

I believe that when you study abroad, the two most important factors are a) the location and b) the program. In terms of the latter, it has been a slight disappointment. Classes are interesting, but we’re cooped up in one room for all of our classes, at times from 9am-7pm. I wish we had access to a library or had class at Charles University, where we’re technically enrolled as students. I’m not complaining about this part, but the workload is significantly less strenuous than it is at school. However, I still feel as though I’m learning a lot – truthfully, just as much as a I learn at school, albeit very different kinds of things. This makes me feel both heartened and frustrated – while I’m glad to be learning so much, I now know that to learn a lot doesn’t necessarily have to equate with being stressed all the time and staying up all night to cram (neither of which college forces students to do, duh, but you know…)

Anyways, so yeah. My day-to-day life is a little mundane, but it’s “a little mundane” in Prague, so it’s amazing. To get to class everyday, I have to take a tram that crosses over the river and there is a phenomenal view of the castle and every time it takes my breath away. I was nervous at first that I would become desensitized to it… not happening. It’s just beautiful. Everything in Prague is beautiful, really. The buildings --  not only the architecture, but the engravings and friezes on almost every building; the lighting in the city is spectacular, even when it’s dark, the castle and Charles Bridge is still lit up -- it’s a very modern city (I mean, relatively) but there’s still some beautiful parks and grass areas where people hang out.

I also feel as though I’m making more friends. It sucks because there’s only twenty people on my program, but -- even though my living situation is a little rough -- I’m really lucky to live in the same building as most of the film kids. I’ve become really close with a few of them and have made friendships that I’m sure will transcend the program. Falalala.

I’ve been oscillating a lot between feelings of wanting to go back to school and wanting to do anything but go back to school. Un/fortunately, as I’ve been having a better time here, those latter feelings are starting to become stronger. C’est la vie, though. I'm so excited to go home, just not really back to school.

Okay, but anyways, now moving on to my crazy adventures. I guess it doesn’t make sense to try to attack them all at once, so maybe I’ll just address them generally. Out of the cities I’ve been to so far, the one that I’ve enjoyed the most was Berlin. This, I’m sure, had something to do with the fact that I stayed with my good friend in her lovely apartment and went through the city under her lovely guidance, but Berlin was really great. The people were interesting, friendly (well, at least compared to Czech people) and the stores and shops were very “me” (ew to that description, but actually). I also absolutely loved the Holocaust Memorial in Berlin. It was called “The Tribue to the Murdered Jews of WWII,” which, surprisingly, was actually the first memorial or public space where I’ve seen Holocaust victims referred to as having been “murdered.” Perhaps this was true partly because it was in Germany, but this was up and away the most moving and the most stimulating Holocaust memorial I’ve seen during my time in Europe, as well as in the United States.

Despite my love for Berlin, I don’t know if I would have enjoyed it as much to study abroad there. A few criticisms I had of the city was that a) it was in the Eurozone, and therefore obscenely expensive and b) reminded me too much of America (it’s interesting because Western Europe doesn’t seem like America to me; Berlin reminded me of America, specifically D.C.).

Funnily enough, the only city that I’ve visited where I not only could imagine myself studying abroad, but could potentially see myself enjoying more than a semester in Prague, was Krakow, Poland. Interesting, right? I don’t know what it was, but the city was beautiful, it was cheap, the stores and coffee shops were unique and colorful. The city had a great ethos to it that I really enjoyed. I wasn’t sure if I would perceive the history of Krakow (and Poland, in general) as interesting or disturbing, but it was much more so the former. On the Friday night we arrived, we attended what were essentially Reform services in the basement of a restaurant. The rabbi was a woman, and she played guitar, and sang tunes and melodies that I knew and could sing alone with. It was a really moving and wonderful experience -- almost everyone there could speak English, and there were a few British and American people in attendance who were now residents of Krakow. (Some of them had also moved with their young children who sat through services -- soo cute!) 

After the service there was Oneg Shabbat, where people were able to mingle and talk. I asked both an American and British man (the British one had brought his young son) why they moved to Krakow despite everything that happened here. Their responses were pretty much verbatim, when they explained to me that they did not move themselves and their family here despite what had happened, but instead because what had happened. As one of them explained, “If myself as a Jew does not move to Krakow, then who will?” It’s true. In Krakow, we went on multiple tours where we learned that in this city alone, pre-WWII, there lived 64,000 Jews. After the war, about 300 remained. 

Rough stuff. Of course, then we went to Auschwitz-Birkenau and that was a-whoooooole-nother ball park, but you know. I don’t really feel like talking about it now; it’s been a few weeks, but it still doesn’t really seem processed yet. I’m not sure, I don’t know how to talk/think/feel about it.

After Auschwitz, I also went to a few places in the Czech Republic. Brno is the largest city in the state, second only to Prague, and is apparently home to some beautiful churches. I didn’t particularly enjoy Brno, or maybe I just compared everything to Prague, in which case, there was no comparison. Of course, my program was also there for a grand total of 23 hours, so that may have been why, as well.

We then traveled to Mikulov, which is wine country in the Czech Republic. We were a little bit late for wine season, but the small town was beautiful, and surprisingly hosted the Czech Republic’s largest Jewish cemetery, as well as a magnificent castle. Mikulov, along with Cesky Krumlov, is the most popular tourist destination in the Czech Republic besides Prague, and are the places most people visit when they are in Prague for extended stays.

Finally, Vienna. As some people on my program said, “Prague is the poor man’s Vienna,” and in many ways, that’s true. Everywhere there is a sense of royalty and magnificence. The architecture is almost gaudy in its ostentatiousness, and there’s gold and copper-turned-aqua and stone engravings everywhere. I went to the Belvedere Museum, which was renovated from its original use as a Hapsburg King’s summer “vacation” home (it’s a mansion about a dozen times over.) That was incredible and the artwork in it was phenomenal. A lot of Klimt.

We also visited Austria’s National Library in Vienna, which was, in a word, spectacular. It was the most beautiful library I’ve ever seen before, but also, maybe because I’m a nerd, the most beautiful room(s) I’ve ever seen before. If The Beauty and the Beast was ever a real life thing, then this library would be the Beast’s secret library. I can’t even begin to describe it. I put pictures of it on my Flickr, I think, and you should see them. It’s exquisite. It felt like an enchanted library (and upon such realization, I obviously decided I wanted to live there.)

So yeah, moving on... finally, after about a week and a half break after this trip (but not really break, because visitors came and stayed with me in Prague for that entire time!), I left to go to Amsterdam. I really liked Amsterdam! The weather was beautiful: sunny and crisp; the leaves were changing colors, the canals were all gorgeous. There were some buildings that were super cool looking, but there were also much more industrialized, kind of ugly looking buildings, like the ones in downtown Pittsburgh. Tourist-wise, I went to the Anne Frank House/Museum and the Van Gogh Museum. Both were great in their own way. I love Van Gogh and it was really moving and wonderful seeing so much of his work. It also was a great experience going to the Anne Frank House -- kind of rough and emotional, but I’m really glad that I went.

I stayed at my friend’s apartment who is studying abroad there, and there was an enormous windmill right next to his apartment which just seemed so Amsterdam. The culture seems great, and everyone rides bikes, which is fun. Walking past the Red Light District was weird and SO interesting, from an intellectual standpoint. It was just bizarre seeing sex being sold so openly and in such a capitalistic way. Just very interesting. (I found out that there’s also a ‘Blue Light District’ for gay and transgendered prostitutes.) Speaking of which, the gay club scene was soo much better/more fun than it is in Prague. Actually, there really isn’t a “gay scene” in Prague -- Prague is actually somewhat homophobic compared to the rest of Europe, though pretty on par in terms of racism (and by that I mean racism is well and thriving).

In Amsterdam, Christmas’ protaganist is called Sinterklauss, and instead of having elves, Sinkterklauss has one aide named, when translated, “Black Peter.” Black Peter is broadcast as Sinterklauss’ “slave” and it is he and he alone who prepares the presents for the children. It is important to note that a Black Peter sign or toy is hung in about every single shop in Amsterdam. Furthermore, Black Peter is not, as one may expect, a black man. Rather, he is a white man in black face. (This is all completely true.)

You would think that maybe people would realize how totally and utterly offensive this way, and perhaps try to stop the disgusting amount of propaganda and capital spent on promoting Black Peter, but no. The opposite is true, in fact, on the Sunday that I was leaving, there was a Sinterklauss Parade where families with young children came to watch Sinterklauss and Black Peter on floats; there were balloons and music, etc. It is customary for little children to dress up and I saw dozens of these little blond, Aryan children running around the streets of Amsterdam in FULL BLACK FACE. And nothing was “wrong” with it! I honestly could not believe it.

Ah, Europe. Homogeneity: while perhaps not a catalyst for (though in all truth, an argument could probably be made), certainly no help in the eradication of, racism. Also, sexism, Islamophobia and anti-Semitism are big things here, too, but those are stories for another time.

So anyways, yeah. That’s pretty much some of my adventures in a nutshell. Tomorrow at 6am, I’m taking a bus to Budapest. Should be co0o0o0o0ol.

Oh, man. I do love Prague a lot, and I don’t really want to go back to America or back to Grinnell. But I do really miss home, with that term encompassing my physical home, family, friends, pets, etc. I’m very excited to see everyone and do some other, annoying, typically American things (like go to the movies! THERE ARE SO MANY GREAT MOVIES COMING OUT! I can’t wait. Meryl Streep better win that Oscar this year.)

Okay, love you guys. 

Sorry if this post sounds really weird, I’m really sleep-deprived and am currently watching this horrendously disturbing Czech film for my Film Analysis class called Birds, Orphans and Fools. Don’t watch it, ever. 

K love you bye!

Occupy Wall Street y Praha

Inevitably, as I've read more and more about Occupy Wall Street, I've become more and more jealous about the fact that I'm not in the States, sitting/protesting/occupying where ever/whatever. I've been trying to keep up to date about what's going on through articles online, the Daily Show (which I just discovered works here!) and by begging people to tell me their thoughts.



One turn-off that's come up for a lot of those who, perhaps at first glance, would seem likely supports of OWS is the issue of class, and the problematic inclinations of grouping, let's say, a family of four with an annual income of $18,000/yr with a family of four with an annual income of $80,000/yr -- in short, all those who fall under the category of the "99%."For some of the people I've talked with, this sort of failure to acknowledge the importance of class is cause to dismiss OWS as any sort of legitimate social movement.



I thought about it for a while, because while I agree(d) that class is a significant issue - and one that perhaps the OWS movement as a whole has thus far failed to fully take into consideration - I couldn't justify a complete disregard for a movement that - even on a different continent - has sparked so much excitement and inspiration. So I wrote a bunch of shit down that I was thinking about, and didn't know where to post it, and thought I'd post it here.

These are my thoughts (however jumbled they may be) in response to Class and OWS.

I think that I speak for a lot of study abroad-ers when I say that it is incredibly frustrating to not be in the United States for OWS’ inception or implementation.

From an overseas perspective, I find it heartening and inspiring and exciting to see both the increased numbers of protestors in attendance, as well as the increasing media coverage of the movement, the latter of which, although a seemingly obvious right, often manifests as a luxury rarely bestowed upon movements of the, what some would deem, “radical left.”

In terms of the OWS skeleton, class is a touchy subject in general, and an inevitable point of contention when one decides to group the bottom 99% of America together. It’s an individual choice to decide whether to embrace OWS as a movement nurtured by a unified and genuine want for change, for some sort of liberation from the stagnant control of corporations, for banks to be held at least partially accountable (if not from a political standpoint, then absolutely from a social one) OR simply as another movement that is inherently flawed (as, arguably, every single significant American, and probably universal, social movement has been), polarizing and thus, essentially worthless.

Indeed, it would be discernibly more beneficial to persons in the bottom 1% for those of greater privilege to consistently spend their time working towards improving the bottom’s quality of life.  But regardless of OWS’ existence, the percentage of those dedicating their lives (volunteering at soup kitchens, etc.) to the betterment of others probably would have, and has, remained constant.

Actually, I take that back. I think that the emergence of OWS has led to an undeniable increase of people who are – albeit, in many ways, relatively financially privileged – finally, FINALLY, taking a stand against the injustices of corporate greed and the egregious fiscal policies (anyone wanna talk about Citizens United?) that, until now, the American public has accepted.

Of course, as should be expected from any movement of this volume and spontaneity, there lies some groundwork hypocrisy. Of course it’s difficult to reconcile those feelings of hypocrisy with one’s wanting-to-show-support for OWS. And yeah, we all sort of hate the kid with a “Fuck Cooperate Greed” sign in one hand and an iPhone in the other.

But I am hopeful that the inherent message of OWS will prove to transcend class: we are protesting not only to improve the quality of our own lives nor only to improve the quality of life of those in the lowest socioeconomic classes. This movement is necessary because of the shared understanding that, when the people’s demands are met, the equalizing of even one minority group will serve to better and strengthen the general foundation and social consciousness of our country as a whole.

We may not dominantly be talking about the poorest 5% or 10% of America. But what OWS has illustrated is that these are not just problems for the poorest of the poor, the bottom of America’s social hierarchical ladder. And while there are certainly OWS protestors who are motivated purely by the temptation of individual advance, my guess is that a majority are standing in support and solidarity of a group of people that has, quite simply, grown too big to ignore.

I don’t think this movement is about a middle class hero marching in to save the unemployed. People are excited because, for the first time in what seems like years, those of working and middle class are, together, exercising their political rights and demanding improvements to their quality of life. We are, finally, in some physical, concrete and hands-on way, connecting and unifying with people of different classes and presumably (hopefully) of a myriad of races, ethnicities, religions, etc.

Perhaps what I mean is just that it is important to assert that one’s wariness of internal aspects of the movement does not negate their general support of OWS in and of itself. Of course, I’m assuming that those who have voiced such hesitations of OWS are not opposed to stricter fiscal policy in the United States, or disagree that on some level, we need more accountability from banks and the government in terms of economic legislation. Critique from the inside, not the outside, is the way to better the movement whilst maintaining an outside perception of legitimacy and preventing a discredit of the work, the excitement, the energy that has been created by OWS.

Occupy Wall Street, for everything that it is, is unarguably more tangible, unifying and, above all, more accessible than any sort of academic critique ever has been to the American public.

Therein lies the hope of the movement, and, at least for me, serves as justification for why OWS deserves the people’s support. Of course, critical discourse is necessary for a movement of this (potential!) scope and consequential social and political change. But to stand by on the sidelines because of these flaws is to miss something bigger than us, and something beautiful. This may be overkill, but Desmond Tutu said, “If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.” That’s how it feels to me, at least, a million miles away from home.

Roma

Hola!

I have just returned from a weekend in Rome. (Disclaimer: for as obnoxious as it may have felt to read that sentence, I promise that it felt even more obnoxious to write it.) Like the other millions of enthralling blog posts composed by over-caffeinated, over-privileged college students, I shall start my tale at a place where many such tales commence: the beginning.

On my program, there are certain designated Fridays that are ensured to be "classless," i.e., classes aren't scheduled during these days in order to allow us time to travel (rough life, huh?). As such, come September 16, on a (very) early Friday morning, my fellow Praguer and Grinnellian Amanda and I dragged ourselves out of bed and began our journey to the Prague International Airport to catch our flight to Roma.

Many trams, planes, trains, metros and buses later, we arrived in Rome on Friday, around 2:30pm. Amanda and I met up with our other Grinnell friend Alexa (who’s studying abroad in Vienna, but had the week off to travel) before walking to our hotel. Similar to the start of any sort of trip I participate in, we became hopelessly lost and henceforth walked around the city for about three hours before finding our hotel. (Side note #1: Amanda and I use native people as maps. Alexa does not believe in interacting with natives for fear of being branded “tourist.” Side note #2: As three white girls with huge backpacks strapped onto our backs stumbling over ourselves, someone surmising that we were tourists would have been about as surprising as something that is not surprising at all, but is in fact very obvious.)

Anyways, after a nice, long walk (oh wait, it is also important to note that it was, on average, about 90 degrees the entire time we were in Rome, and incredibly sunny), we finally made it to the hotel where we discovered, to our delight (not), that the “hotel” consisted of three rooms and was owned and run by a family who spoke approximately zero English.

Somehow, we communicated that we had booked a room and were led to a hostel-feeling, but perfectly nice, room with two beds, a bathroom (and shower!) and a television. We then proceeded to sweat profusely and watch MTV Rome for about an hour and a half. After that, we (managed) to get it together, wipe off some of the sweat, and head back out into the streets of Italia to find something to eat for dinner. We decided on this place about a half mile away from the Trevi Fountain, where vines adorned outside seating and a man was playing accordion (not joking) to restaurant patrons. There was no outdoor seating, but we were led inside to a huge, open space with a winding staircase and murals of cherubs and Jesus spattered across the walls. Pretty beautiful. We started off our meal with a bottle of red wine and warm bread and shared plates of spaghetti in tomato sauce, meat sauce and squid-ink sauce (very salty, but really good!). I mean, I guess I don’t really need to go into it, but I will say this: The food. Was. Spectacular.

After that, we sat for about a half hour to digest and then meandered over to the Trevi Fountain. Holy cow. Maybe it’s because I was still starry-eyed about the fact that I was in Italy (Italy!), maybe it’s because I was a little drunk off the food and the wine, maybe it’s because it was nighttime and warm and breezy and perfect, but the Fountain was gorgeous and everything was wonderful. Alexa, Amanda and I all sort of sat in a stupor for a little bit before deciding to walk around a little more. We made our way to the Italian Parliament and some other really beautiful statues and buildings. (I just have to say here that, for the most part, I don’t really have any idea what I saw and did not see. But to be sure, I can pretty much guarantee that if you walk for more than ten minutes anywhere in Rome, you will find a building, church or statue that has been around for literally tens of hundreds of years. And they will all be some of the beautiful pieces of art you will ever see.) Somewhere in between the walking, we got gelato and it was great because it was gelato in Italy and how couldn’t that be great?

By around 12:30pm, we were all pretty tired so we walked back to the hotel and fell fast asleep. The next day we woke up at around 9am and made our way over to the Vatican (yes, that old thing). We started a tour at around 11:30am and didn’t leave until 4pm. The Vatican – for the moment putting aside any religious implications it may have – is one of the most beautiful museums I have ever seen and probably that exists in the entire world. There was artwork from everyone from Michelangelo to Chagall. The walls and ceilings were painted in the richest colors, with the most intricate details; there were murals of maps made in ancient centuries; marble statues of men and women and angels and animals; religious depictions of the same event created over the span of thousands of years; even the floors were filled with cracked mosaics.

Because I have to talk about it, the Sistine Chapel was stunning, except (this is a true story), when I walked in, the first thing I said was, “This isn’t what I thought the Sistine Chapel looked like!” (It wasn’t! Seriously!). We also went to St. Peter’s Basilica, which was equally stunning and about a gabillion times more ostentatious than any sort of building (secular and non-secular) I have ever seen or heard about. Of course there was a religious aspect (duh), but I was mostly struck by how unbelievably powerful the whole thing looked/felt, and really could only view it either as some sort of incredible historical tribute to art and history or simply as an ode to the sort of political power held by the Catholic Church. Either way, it was incredible.

After the Vatican, we walked back to our hotel (I am not exaggerating when I say our clothes were soaked in sweat – cuties!) and stopped at this gelato place called Blue Ice. It was AMAZING. Literally the best ice cream I have ever had in my entire life (and, as a Yacknin, I have tried aplenty an ice cream). Back to Blue Ice: you automatically get three flavors (I chose Nutella, Dark Chocolate and Dulce de Leche) and it came in a cone and they topped it off with some homemade whipped cream and another mini-cone.

It was just the best ice cream I’ve ever had in my entire life. I can’t even tell you. Alexa got Espresso and Strawberry (gross combination but the Espresso was life-changing) and Amanda got the same thing as me. Anyways, go to Rome and then go to Blue Ice. Then repeat.

All right, so Vatican, gelato, walking back to the hotel. We arrived at our humble abode, changed and watched some more MTV Rome (oh, we also played Set – I’ve been playing a lot of Set in Prague). We proceeded to relax and be content and finally wandered back into the square near the Trevi Fountain. We wandered off the beaten path for a little longer before finding this small restaurant where no one spoke English. We decided that was a good sign and ordered some more red wine, bread and pasta. Yum.

After dinner, we walked back to the Trevi Fountain and were sitting around again when we heard a collective gasp from the crowd. Some drunk guy had jumped up onto the rocks and was tentatively climbing towards the center of the Trevi Fountain. The police’s reaction was particularly peculiar, in that they started blowing their whistles really loudly and shouting exaggeratedly, but didn’t actually move from their cars, which were parked about half a block down the street. The crowd started laughing and clapping and whistling. It was really funny and produced a surprising spurt of camaraderie between the tourists and Italians, but then the man tripped a little bit and everyone realized how drunk he was and that he could probably die if he fell so everyone started freaking out. (By everyone, I mean everyone except the police, who continued to just chill by the Fountain, I guess waiting for him to either climb down or die.)

Anyways, after about five minutes of him stumbling and taking off his shirt and almost-dying, he finally fell off of the top rock into the water and emerged unharmed, much to the crowd’s simultaneous relief and delight. The guy staggered out of the water and was promptly arrested. But it was awesome! And hilarious, when we found out he didn’t die.

After that, we got more gelato and walked around and went to bed.

Finally, on Sunday, we woke up early again and walked to the Coliseum and the Pantheon. (Sorry I’m getting really tired because I’m writing a lot and it’s late, but) they were both really cool and historical and mind-boggling in that they’ve been around for literally thousands of years.

We ate lunch in between our visits to the Coliseum and the Pantheon at some place that was HORRIBLE and it was so sad – the pasta was cold and the sauce tasted worse than Chef Boyardee’s. So depressing. But our last dinner was pretty good and then we all took a train to the airport and said bye-bye, Rome. I got back (back home?) at around 2am and now it’s Monday and I’m in rainy, cold Prague trying to put off doing homework and just finished eating cold cereal for dinner (I know, I’m sure you all feel really bad for me). It is weird, how Prague is starting to feel more like home in some ways, but still feels very strange and unsettling in others.

Okay, but just to get everything out, some general thoughts about Rome: I think the part I was most struck by was simply how exquisite even the rattiest looking alley really was. Truly, walk ANYWHERE and you will find some priceless, beautiful piece of architecture and artwork. It was amazing and I’ve never been anywhere like it. Rome also reminded me the most of New York City than any place I’ve ever been (except for New York City), in that city felt alive, the subways were crowded and hot, everything was crackling and bustling, and everyone everywhere was beautiful and exceptionally well dressed. Admittedly, there were some idiosyncrasies of Rome that made me feel, at best, uncomfortable. The amount of begging was on par with places like DC and LA, except it was the type of people begging that was, at least to me, most upsetting. Beggars were mostly children and very, very old women. If they didn’t adhere to one of those criterion (and sometimes, even if they did), beggars usually had some sort of severe disfigurement: amputees, twisted limbs, stooped spines, missing eyes, etc.  I’m not sure exactly what to take away from this, other than it was a very resonating observation. Another thing was the somewhat polar interactions I had with Italians, neither of which was particularly engaging. On one hand, a lot of Italians tried to talk to us because we were three, very clearly American, girls. This was fun for obvious reasons, and funny (though not always haha funny) in that it was obviously an act and fueled solely by the fact that we were American. The other sort of “act” most often presented to us was Italians keen on egregiously ripping us off in one way or another, whether it was on cab fares, t-shirts or meals. Obviously, this is their sole income and a lot of people rely on tourists to make a living, but it was outrageous, and sometimes seemed almost cruel, the ways people attempted to exploit and rip-off tourists. I don’t know. I, at least, was offended, if only for the fact that so many people thought I was actually stupid enough to believe that a 20-euro hot dog (albeit with genuine Italian meat!) was a fantastic deal. I mean, really?

That being said, I absolutely loved Rome and can’t believe I saw everything I saw. There was this one moment in St. Peter’s Basilica, where there was this Michelangelo statue of Lady Madonna and Jesus that I had learned about in my art history class last semester and I walked past it once before doing a double take and elbowing past the crowds to get a closer look. This was something I had learned about, read about, talked about, wrote about, and here it was, right in front of me. The whole thing was pretty incredible.

I just can’t believe I have all these opportunities, you know? I love travelling!

I also, however, love sleeping, which is something I have to do to ensure both my consciousness in class tomorrow and general sanity in life. So with that, I shall wrap up what is surely the longest of my posts thus far and hit the snooze button in my brain for at least a few hours. I love you guys very much and thanks for reading this (or thank you for not reading this, is what I should probably write.)

Again, I can’t really tell if it sounds disingenuous, but I really, really miss you. Things are getting way more familiar here, but it’s not anything I’m very comfortable with yet, and it gets a little scary and feels a little weird sometimes. But for the most part, everything’s really great.

Okay! Love you guys, miss you lots, talk to you soon.

Na Shledanou,

Leah

P.S. Something I was thinking that may be interesting to read (not that everything I write isn’t brilliant/exceptionally interesting/etc.) is more of an update of my day-to-day life in Prague. I realize my last two entries have just chronicled different trips and, although exciting, are not exactly accurate depictions of my routine life in Prague (which is also pretty cool, for different reasons). I will try to do that next time. I’m not travelling again for another month (when the Central European Studies and Jewish Studies kids embark on a ten-day journey to Austria, Hungary and Poland), so there will be plenty of time to record my adventures and mishaps v Praha (in Prague), though I can’t guarantee anything as riveting as drunk people fall/diving into the Trevi Fountain.

Cesky Krumlov

A not long time ago (September 11-12), my program went on a weekend trip to Cesky Krumlov, a very small, quiet town about three hours from Prague. We left early Sunday morning and stayed until late Monday afternoon. The town was beautiful. It’s definitely a touristy location (a big hotspot for honeymoons) but they’ve done a good job maintaining a sense of originality and authenticity – there’s no chain-stores allowed (no Starbucks, shopping malls, etc.) and most of the food is local. It sort of reminded me of a small New England beach town in that it was very quaint and very charming, though there were some exceptions; namely, a castle, moat and bear guards (no seriously, there were literally brown bears guarding the castle).

Once we arrived, we checked into our hotel (it was really nice – each room was unique, and the one I stayed in was filled only with wooden furniture [except for a huge, plasma TV that didn’t work?] and had really high ceilings [my favorite thing in the world] with wooden beams and paneling) and unpacked. We explored the town a little bit and ate lunch at this vegetarian, pseudo-Indian restaurant. There were tables outdoors that were placed right along the river and it was really pretty and idealistic and sort of felt like you were looking out onto the set of a movie because nothing in real life is as pretty or perfect. Oh, also the food was good.

After we finished our meals, we took an extended tour of the castle (they said it was a “special” tour, but I’m pretty sure they say that to everyone). My group’s tour guide was some dude from Florida who had visited Cesky Krumlov thirty years ago, loved it, moved there, and has never looked back. The castle was really cool. It’s the most historically accurate castle in all of the Czech Republic (maybe Europe?) and about 86% of the stuff in it is original; it looks the exact same as it did a million years ago, blah, blah, blah (no but it was really cool!).

In the middle of one room was this enormous, gleaming chariot thing that was completely covered with roughly five pounds of 14-karat gold. I think the guide may have made a note about how the royal people forced their servants to carry them into rooms on the carriage, but I also could have just imagined him saying that, as I was absolutely not thinking about what I myself would have done as an 18^th century Czech royal who owned a 14-karat gold carriage. Absolutely not thinking about it. At all.

Oh yeah, there were also TONS of bearskins in every room. Apparently when the guard bears die, they just skin them (sorry, this is gross) and then decorate the castle some more, which is really all I have to say about that.

Another cool room was the ballroom, which was this huge hall that kind of reminded me of a temple sanctuary. It had a lot of open space with lots of mini-balconies where people could go during the ball to rest and watch other people and gossip and make out (I made that last one up). The walls were decorated with these really detailed, beautiful murals of people dancing and jesters jesting and stuff. Most impressively, though, were the different placements of mirrors – all of varying shapes and sizes – that were meant to be “enchanting” and “bewitching,” but really probably just functioned as a huge source of confusion to those in attendance.

Anyways, the reason why it’s worth mentioning the decorations is because of the motivation behind the decision to feature the mirrors as a ballroom focal point: THEY WERE SHOWING OFF BECAUSE IN REAL LIFE, MIRRORS WEREN’T EVER USED BACK THEN. Like, no one knew about them! They weren’t even invented until the Enlightenment! Essentially, Czech people in the 18^th century put so many mirrors in the ballroom to show off how hip they were. And thus concludes my explanation for Mirrors in the Ballroom (doesn’t that sound like the name of some horrible romance novel?). But okay, moving on. 

That night, I walked up to a landing at the top of a hill and saw a view of the entire city of Cesky Krumlov. It was, in a word, stunning. 
The castle, the rooftops of the ancient houses and buildings, the moon was glowing, and – I swear – the sky is a different color in the Czech Republic than it is in the United States. It has a kind of velvety texture, that isn’t navy, but sort of looks like a deep black that’s been painted over with some hue of royal blue. Breathtaking.

Well, that same night my entire program went out to dinner together because the directors had rented out this restaurant and hired a “gypsy band.” The food was good – whenever food is paid for, I basically try to order whatever dish has the most amount of meat in it, since I can’t afford it in real life and thus am probably severely protein-deficient (or at least I think I am, which, in terms of how much the whole “lack of meat” thing affects my life and health, is arguably the same thing).

The “gypsy band” was really just a group of Romas playing music at us and smoking a lot and yelling while our directors kept telling us to give them money. It was fine.

One thing that I haven’t really fully processed yet is the weird paradigm between Czechs and Romas (lovingly and politically correctly referred to as “gypsies,” in a similar syntax as one might say “I just ate some maggots.”). For the most part, I think racism is discussed pretty openly, and I would posit that many Czechs feel passionately that racism is bad or wrong.

However, the notion of “racism” or “prejudice” doesn’t seem to blanket the Roma minority. It’s mostly covert discrimination, in that it’s not super blatant, although there is a LOT of legislation, especially in regard to housing and work-related issues, that oppress and marginalize the Roma people. Most of the explanation I’ve been presented with when I’ve challenged/heard people challenge this sort of Czech ethos is that it’s not as if Czechs want Romas to be dirty people who steal things and are stupid and can’t do honest work and have a million babies that all turn into thieves and mongrels – believe them, if the Romas could be as educated and good as Czechs, they’d totally be down to treat them equally – but it’s just that that’s the way things are, so why not accept it and move on?

I don’t know. As I said, I haven’t fully processed either the situation or my experiences yet, and I don’t think I necessarily know enough, or am well-versed enough, to wax poetic about the social injustices of the Czech Republic from only a month’s experience (though to be fair, hello, have you met my parents?) It’s something worth exploring, at least, and I’m excited to learn more about the historical and political contexts of the Roma people.

But back to Cesky Krumlov. The next day (Monday) was a free day, so we ate at that vegetarian restaurant again (yum) and went to the Schiele Museum. Scheile was some German (actually maybe Austrian? yeah, he was definitely Viennese) painter who visited Cesky Krumlov and mega fell in love with it. He moved there, but his art was really controversial (a.k.a. he liked painting naked little girls [but not only naked girls, he painted some really beautiful things, as well]) and too avante-gardeish so he got kicked out. But then everyone was like no just kidding, you’re going to be really rich and famous, come back. So that was cool. And then we played in the river a little bit and left!

It was a really nice trip and now we only have three days of school before I embark to Rome, otherwise known as my vacation from vacation! Yahoo.

Okey dokey, well, I’ll update again soon (maybe). Probably if you’re reading this, I love you and miss you a LOT.

Mom & Ima, perhaps I’ll call you out in a more public forum in order to bring you the inevitable eternal shame that attaches itself to those who experience an egregious bout of disenchantment with their firstborn, but seriously, can you guys please visit me?

That’s all for now! I love you.

(Also, e-mails about your lives and what’s going on in the United States – has the crazy that is Michelle Bachmann subsided yet? – are very much appreciated, if you have the time or inclination.)

Praha 1

Ahoj, Lovely Family (aka probably only Safta, Ellen & Cathy, my parents and my FND aunties whom my mother will inevitably force this upon), 
Here is my bbbbbbllllllloggggg that maybe I will use more than once :) 
Well, I'm in Prague! I keep having to repeat that to myself because it still doesn't feel real. I'm writing this from my apartment, which I share with four other people on my program. There are three of us in my room: myself, Laurel (a friend from Grinnell) and a Czech girl named Veronika. Veronika is also a student who usually studies at university in Moravia, right on the border of the Czech Republic and Slovakia. We are all participating in the Central European Studies track. The other room is host to Eli and Bruce, from American University and Tufts, respectively, who are both in Film Studies. They're both nice; we don't really interact with Film students that much because they study at a different location than we do, which is sort of a bummer because most of the people on our trip are film students, and definitely a lot of the cool ones.
I've been hanging out mostly with Laurel and Amanda (another girl from Grinnell) but have also been interacting with people in Central European Studies. It's weird (as is the beginning of any program like this) because there's a lot of pressure to make friends quickly regardless of the fact that everyone is bewildered/jet-lagged/confused/etc. It's been fine, though, and is really only getting better. I also need to keep reminding myself that this is only my fifth full day in Prague, which is nuts because it sort of feels like forever.
I started a week of intensive Czech lessons (5 hours/day!) on Monday. It's going splendidly so far (not). Apparently Czech is one of the hardest languages ever (who knew?) and I can't stop trying to talk in French and/or Hebrew which proves awkward when I walk up to Czech people and start manically asking for directions in French. We start normal school next week. My classes are: a Holocaust seminar; Film Analysis; Prague, Vienna, Budapest (which includes visits to both Vienna and Budapest); Political & Cultural History of Central Europe and a Czech class.
The food and beer (sorry, mommas) is, like, unbelievably cheap. The first night out, Laurel and Amanda both ordered beer and I got water (tap water doesn't exist here and waiters become very offended if you ask for it) and truly, the beer was cheaper than water. The food is good - I've eaten fish, goulash, lots of potatoes, not much fresh produce. We've started cooking dinner and stuff. For breakfast I usually eat apples and yogurt and cornflakes, so far they've provided a variety of ethnic food for lunch and a few days ago, we made this huge pot of lentil stew thing that has lasted us until tonight. Cooking is hard.
I've explored a lot of the city so far, which is nice. We all got passes to ride the trams and metro for free, which has been amazing. I've gone to the Prague Castle, Charles Bridge, the Jewish Quarter, have hung around Wenceslas Square a bunch, etc. (I keep forgetting to bring my camera around because I keep forgetting I have one, but soon I will start to remember, I swear, probably.) We did a scavenger hunt around Prague and today we rode paddle boats along the Vltava, which was really pretty and relaxing. Tomorrow, we're going on a walking tour around Prague.
That is all I can really think of to write about right now but I will keep you updated when exciting things occur!
Love you guys, miss you a lot a lot,
Cuao,
Leah
P.S. Sorry that this isn't prettily written and/or has a lot of grammatical errors but I don't have time to read over it because I HAVE LOTS OF CZECH HOMEWORK.