Happy New Year

Wishing you and those you love –

all who bring joy, meaning,

and significance to your life –

a year of inner peace amidst global chaos,

good health in times of challenges to our well being,

pleasure and contentment as we make our way through the complexities of daily life,

and the blessings of knowing we are cherished and protected.

Happy 2009 to you

'Tis the Season

. . . for some small part of nearly everything.

The season for reflection -- pondering the year just past could consume another year! What an amazing year (actually, fantastic lifetime) this has been. Recent conversations have brought so many memories to the surface, have shaped so many unexpected hopes and wishes, and, as usual, have highlighted so many shortcomings. Seemingly random encounters open virtual storehouses of thoughts, each of which could lead to its own dissertation or, conversely, could hit an immediate stone wall. Most of those will join a growing "To Do" list of both concrete and abstract self assignments. And of course, there will be the perpetual sense of hopefulness -- this year I'll really get organized, this year I'll really do things differently, this year I'll really make a dent in those good intentions!

The season for gratitude -- creating a list of the gifts of life, every size from petite to XXXXXL and beyond, is an endless task in and of itself. Most conversations, thoughts, and encounters seem to either focus on or somehow touch a deep well of gratitude for all the marvelous gifts I've been given: my family, my friends, countless opportunities, new horizons, all the seemingly accidental encounters and even dumb luck which have moved me through a virtual dictionary of emotions. And for each of them I am a deeply grateful.

The season for renewal -- renovating and refurbishing the various compartments of my brain is a never ending task. This season brings new emphasis and concern to the work. For some unexplored reason the holiday season always tucks this two-sided coin in my mental stocking: Joy and delight at all the wonders and a bit of wistfulness about the "roads not taken." And for every item on my mental punch list as I take occupancy of this House of 2009 (how can that be?) there will be a stronger sense of reality and urgency to get on with the job, whether interior decoration or external landscaping!

The season for regrets -- examining and bringing reality to the mistakes, lost opportunities, poor decisions, and general oooops, whether of 2008 or the accumulations of a lifetime. To paraphrase one of the British poets, distance does not lend enchantment to this view! I'm grateful for the lesson learned from an acquaintance some years past, a psychotherapist whose work with "women of a certain age" was beginning to hit the best sellers list of the time. She said that the difference between guilt and regret is that regret indicates you've learned something and now know how to act/interact differently. Guilt means you intended to hurt/harm another or yourself and may continue to do so. And though I wish to keep the regrets to a minimum in this season, I would fervently wish to eliminate the times when "I'm sorry" is caused by guilt.

The season for resolutions (and a few promises!) -- determining the most relevant changes and being constant and steadfast in bringing them about is such a global resolution. Yet I do know that I can change only myself, even as I wish I could bring positive change into and for the lives of others. Creating those ripples of new horizons for the lives I touch is a big resolution for this coming year. I will continue to make all the little promises which can help that happen.

It's a major season for me, my brain, and my heart. As we began this journey nearly a year ago now -- who'd have thought it would look and be like this? -- I had no idea where we'd go, what we'd see, who we'd meet. It's been an absolutely incredible adventure -- a magical triumvirate of people, places, and events. I must say, I can hardly wait to see what 2009 will bring, what the season's musings will bring about. I do hope you'll join me in the discoveries!

Sundries

So many little things knit themselves together to make a good day, a satisfying week, or a weekend in which everything seems to go just right. After all these years, I'm beginning to learn that my most important job (in every situation) is to be ready. Then just "go with the flow". And these times are almost always unexpected. That's how things have been lately.

► What a super Mikulas ((pronounced mick'-oo-lahsh) party last weekend. First, I feel so honored to be included in events such as this with great people, marvelous multi-ethnic food, and a general good time. The hostess was the neat young woman who was the former Assistant Director of Studies at StJ and has now returned to teaching. We are able to spend a few moments together each week in the reception area where we have classes at the same time at one of the StJ clients. I always look forward to those times together. Yes, the flat was small and packed wall to wall with people. But what fun! Getting there, being there, and getting home just before the tram schedule switched over to the night service -- all of it. Laughter piled upon laughter, new ideas and interesting perspectives continuously floating around in the swirl of conversation. What an evening!

► I awoke (long before daylight, as is usual now) to a lazy snowfall Friday morning. It was one of those times when a relatively brief tram ride takes me from snow to rain to only cloudiness, then perhaps back to more snow. The seven hills of Prague certainly produce interesting weather differences very quickly. The snow seemed to be a little heavier as I was riding, and I got off into huge flakes coming down hard enough that they were beating a rhythm on my umbrella. And suddenly - - nothing but wet cobblestones and droopy hair. After class the sky seemed lower, the general color around me was that of frozen mist, as if the atmosphere had "frozen" the breath of the world as it exhaled.

► Fast forward to another, longer tram ride in the early afternoon. The view was unchanged from the previous several hours when I shut my eyes for a few moments, I guess just because it seemed like a nice idea. Now I know it was preparation for a major gift, because when I opened them I was in the middle of an incredible winter wonderland. In that area of the city the snow was wet and heavy, the bare branches had been dressed in white fleece at least three inches thick, the grassy areas between apartment buildings were under an untouched blanket of white. It was so dramatic that all I could do was gasp and stare. What a gift! As I descended -- very carefully -- from the tram, I was in the middle of brown slush and puddles. And even with that I couldn't take my eyes away from the incredible beauty around me. Wish you could have shared it with me.

► How many years now have I been humming along with "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire"? As usual, Wikipedia gave me a longer answer than I needed, but it certainly added some sparkle to my internal music score. I did know it was written during WWII, 1944 to be precise, by Mel Torme, that man with a golden voice. I didn't know he discovered four lines written by Bob Well, the lyricist, sitting on the piano. Wells wasn't intending to write a song; he was trying to "stay cool by thinking cool" during a hot Arizona summer. Those four lines -- Chestnuts roasting, Jack Frost nipping, Yuletide carols, Folks dressed up like Eskimos -- became what is/was the most-performed Christmas song. And it took only 40 minutes. (Enough time left to enjoy a glass of iced tea!)

And now it isn't just words -- "roasting chestnuts" is a real experience for me. When Dasa and Thomas and I were waiting for a train in her village this past summer, she exclaimed about the dying chestnut trees which had always sheltered the little waiting area. Tree after tree was either dead or soon would be. That was, I believe, the first time I thought about chestnuts coming from an "ordinary" source, as pecans do in Oklahoma. This holiday season I've seen many little stands selling hot roasted chestnuts as I walk between trams and between classes, and it was such a nice connection between summer and winter. But there has always been a reason to keep going, or to put it differently, a reason not to stop. This past week curiosity and some spare time won out! I indicated to the young man tending the chestnuts and the fire that I would like some. Right away he reached for a bag and a long handled large spoon, opened the giant pot, and weighed out my 100 grams. And yes, they were hot! Within a few moments, however, I could begin the peeling process. Oh my goodness. They are good! Rather soft, somewhat dry and mealy, very satisfying. Since I was close to the company, I closed the bag, hugged it tight so it wouldn't cool, and took it to my student. We opened class enjoying warm chestnuts and hot green tea -- talking in English all the time. It was just the right touch on a really cold day. One of the best parts was his smile of surprise when I asked to learn about eating chestnuts!

► All week the temperatures have been hovering in the mid- to high-20s at night, low- to mid-30s during the day, usually accompanied by a noticeable and sometimes brisk breeze. I normally wait to stroll across the Charles Bridge until a more pleasant day. This trip couldn't wait -- and it was wonderful. One of my "favorite" friends here is a lovely young California woman, former teacher of children with special needs, one of those people whose quiet smile just lights up a room. Whenever she admired a pair of earrings I was wearing the answer would always be "I got them on the Charles Bridge years ago." And she would always reply, "I wish you'd take me sometime." Yesterday we made our trip -- and I certainly hope it isn't our only one. What a marvelous excursion. We were both looking for gifts, both suitably huddled in our scarves and gloves, and both in the mood to walk and talk, and stop and look, and go back to something else, then forward to something new. Even the frozen fingers and toes couldn't stop us. They did, however, make us linger in the best looking heated tourist shop after we reached the other side of the Bridge! The trip was successful in every way -- she found just the right gift for a birthday party she was attending that evening, I found something I never thought of as a gift for Thomas (I do hope he likes it -- it's not on his list any more than it was on mine!), and we really warmed up at a small cozy restaurant near the US Embassy that she remembered from a freezing day trip last year about this time!


► And I never would have predicted that my plans for this Sunday evening would include a "Service of Lessons and Carols" -- one of my longstanding favorites of this season -- at an Anglican church. So many marvelous moments have been spent watching the Service from Westminster Cathedral at midnight on Christmas Eve. Other memorable times have been enjoyed preparing for and participating in the Service myself. And now, here I am, partway around the world, a series of unexpected choices bringing me to that Service again, joined by friends from Scotland, Britain, South Africa, and the US, as well an yet unknown friends. (I always enjoy eliciting the difference between "strangers" and "foreigners" from my students.) I do hope they folks planning the service haven't decided it's time for all new carols. And as I listen and sing, I know the memories will be crowding my spirit. It's a good thing I don't need to read the words. I'll be spending the evening with so many people who have shared the Service with me in the past. And who knows how many others will join the crowd in the future.

Have you noticed how much time we spend worrying about, fretting over, and dreading difficult events and times? (The news in the US is doing much of that for us, although personal concern is certainly justified!) My wish for you in this holiday season is that you will anticipate, expect, and plan for joy and peace. Joy waiting to surprise you in each new moment of your days, and peace deep within you, knowing that the right things do happen at the right time. It is our perception and awareness which is limited. I'm learning. Fortunately the process is continuously reinforced! I hope you also are being surprised by joy.

It's beginning to look a lot like - - -

Oh my, it seems that things speed up at this time of the year no matter where I am. The past few weeks have been hectic, my brain is constantly overflowing with projects left half-completed, and my body is saying "Give me a break, won't you please." Everything that has been added to the normal schedule is wonderful, however, so I just answer - - "Later!"

Christmas has so many traditions here -- some related to saints (more on that later) and most about family and food and good times that have endured. I've thoroughly enjoyed listening to the different stories my students tell -- and watching their faces as they relate what they have done or will be doing this year. Whether with their family of birth or the family they have created, all place great importance on being together, including all generations available, and keeping their own family traditions alive, whether for two people or twenty-two.

So let's go to the beginning of the season and one of the saints -- St. Mikulas Day. (Recognize a similarity to Nicholas there?) December 5, StM Day, is the "official" beginning of Christmas, as I understand it. And I've heard some marvelous stories overflowing with nostalgia. Here's what I've learned - - -

The Christ Child is the gift-giver on Christmas Day (December 24th here), and on Saint Mikulas' (Nicholas) Feast Day (December 6), children in some Central European countries traditionally place a boot on their windowsill (sometimes balcony, if fortunate enough to have one in their flat) waiting for Mikulas to come by and fill it with treats. "Good" children receive various fruits, candies, and toys, "bad" children can expect nothing more than a wooden spoon or a willow-switch left by his somewhat sinister elf-companion, Krampusz, in Hungary. In the Czech Republic, Mikulas is often accompanied by the Angel and Devil. And it is on December 5, the Eve of St. Nicholas' Feast, they receive their treats. However, since no one is all good or bad, most children get both sweets and a switch! (Thank you, once again, Wikipedia.)

As it has been related to me multiple times -- with nearly identical memories -- Mikulas (Czech/Central European spelling) is always with an angel and a devil. The angel (and the Saint) reward good children, and the devil will put them in a sack and, depending on who's relating it, burn them or banish them. I was a bit taken aback by a parent who was quite delighted to relate how much he frightened his children -- apparently intentionally -- with the devil threats. There is a "walk around" in Old Town Square on the evening of December 5th. Parents bring even their young children (reminiscent of parents bringing toddlers to Central Park West till the wee hours of the morning to see the Thanksgiving Parade balloons inflated!) to see the grand trio.

College students and other young people count on earning some cash during this time! During the afternnoon one can see various angels and saints boarding trams for their destination for the evening, wings under their arms, staff and crown looking very unsaintly. It seems some kids have recognized the face of a relative under the beard or mask when the group visits their home, so parents are now opting for strangers to perform the task! (Sound like some of the Santa figures you've known or heard about?)

One of the requirements for meeting the Saint is the performance (very well done, of course) of a song or a poem, something you've been preparing for some time. And of course your boots must be well polished. My Czech teacher recalls singing and reciting as if her life depended on it -- and indeed, she believed it did! Her story is representative, so here it is.

Dad took her and her sister to the square in their town; Mom begged off with some excuse about work or health, or something that would keep her home. The girls got through their performances, received their little treats, and made their way home with Dad. They were met at the door by their mom who was pleading for their help. "There was a terrible noise on the balcony and I am afraid to go out their to get _____ (fill in the blank with your own experience and imagination)." Of course the girls and Dad had to help. SURPRISE! The boots they had placed (sounds like stockings at the fireplace to me) were filled with wonderful things such as oranges (a rare treat at that time) and little candies. What joy!

Just as in the States, decorations and music and enticing sales precede even St. Mikulas day. My favorite, at least to this point, is the Christmas Market in Namesti Miru, the park/square across from St James. (They are all around the city, though, and it is interesting to look at similar items and dissimilar prices in different markets.) The Church of St. Ludmila dominates nam. Miru, and the market is in front of the church in a manner I believe is probably similar to the markets of years, possibly centuries ago. It is a series of many small wooden structures -- actually they would be good stand-ins for a stable in a nativity scene -- joined together in some places, then starting a new row or making a 90-degree turn at others. Each stall has a different offering, some with food, candy, or wine, others with handmade Christmas linens, or decorations, or other winter and/or gift necessities. Frankly, I just love walking slowly with the crowd. The huge Christmas tree with a nativity scene in front of it is decorated with hundreds of blue lights, as are the stalls. How beautiful and what fun to watch!

Women have been baking the marvelous Czech Christmas cookies for weeks now. One colleague even brought a plate of them to StJ for teachers to share. Yummy!

Shopping has begun in earnest. I've heard several people talk about finishing "early," but most seem to be just getting started. The trams are much more crowded than usual, and of course they are many more bags taking up space.

Christmas itself is a multi-day event. The 24th is the "big" day -- a public holiday, and the day of the first family get-together. Traditional foods are carp and potato salad, and everyone near enough will be there. The 25th is the day you prepare another big meal and share it with other relatives/close friends, those you didn't see the day before. As you can imagine, there's quite a bit of traveling, quite a bit of merry making! And at least from those who've told me their stories, the gift giving seems a bit more restrained. And it is definitely for the children.

Since we had snow again yesterday, it really is beginning to look a lot like Christmas -- white, lights, and all. And the festive spirit is evident. I hope you're enjoying it with me, wherever you are.

Thanksgiving - - -

the official Day, at least, is over for another year, no matter where you live! At least the American version is, as well as the versions transplanted to other places around the globe. And the meal? Well, let's just say that there were a lot of substitutions here!

As with most things, there is a story behind it all. My initial impulse to create a "transplanted" dinner begins with the memories of Michael's first Thanksgiving here and his efforts to provide a Thanksgiving meal for his friends. Bear in mind this was shortly after the Velvet Revolution and in a town much smaller than Prague. Contrary to my expectations, some of the details have not changed all that much.

I had a more-than-willing accomplice. As a matter of fact, Theresa, a good friend and teaching colleague, became the prime mover in the whole event. Little did I realize the impact of my original, tentative "What do you think about doing a Thanksgiving dinner?" comment. From then on, my major contribution was that of cheerleader! Theresa and Peter, her partner, have a great flat, almost made for entertaining. (They actually have a small room they were told used to be the servant's room! And that is totally believable.) They also have a circle of long-time friends. Already we're talking a ready-made party here! In addition, she loves to cook and is constantly looking for excuses to spend time in her small but terrific kitchen. I was more than happy to give her yet another one!

First, of course, is the fact that T'giving is a normal work day here. It is ovious that Czech holidays, not American ones, provide a day off. We decided on Saturday following the official day -- a pretty logical second choice, since everyone was busy on the official day and had to get up to go to work the day after! Next decision -- 3:00 beginning, no pre-determined end. Given the fact that the day and dinner are so traditional, the next decisions involved figuring out how to get as close as possible to our traditional expectations.

And therein lies the adventure! The American owner of Jama, a great restaurant/pub near Wenceslas Square, is among Pete's circle of friends. And quite naturally, Jama was serving T'giving dinner in style for expats and interested Czechs -- on the actual day. Simple! He was more than happy to get us a turkey -- fresh a day later -- from his butcher. And his butcher was happy to cut it in half for us. Got the picture? That's one-half to be baked in my small oven and one-half in hers! Of course there was the slight complication of getting it home. Again, no problem. Each half was wrapped separately, and cooperatively we lugged our own halves a long walk to the metro station and a long walk to our separate flats.

Oh yes, I forgot to mention that Theresa lives only one (long) block from me. When we go to Czech class together we just meet at the tram stop at the top of the hill, and when we want to unwind on a Friday evening we meet at the pub at the bottom. Handy, right? Also very handy for transporting dinner plates and cutlery as well as cooked food, then returning with leftovers.

This adventure had been in the thinking and planning stages for some time now. And in spite of various suggestions from students and adventures on the internet, I did not come up with fresh (or freshly frozen) cranberries. BIG disappointment, since the three staples in my own holiday dinners are turkey, stuffing/dressing, and my own version of cranberry relish. Oh I do love that relish! Because a cranberry sauce tops svickova, a favorite traditional Czech dish, I knew they "existed" here. But, it turns out, not raw. So I spent an extraordinarily long time cutting orange and lemon peel into teeny tiny pieces with a somewhat dull knife to add to the available cranberry sauce. In case you're curious, it's much softer than the Ocean Spray jellied variety -- it actually pours from the jar. And tho' I was assured in an online chat that Ocean Spray would arrive on the shelves "any day now", I never saw a can or a bag. But this substitute was tasty and provided about half the tartness I enjoy.

It also provided a marvelous humorous memory. At my local grocery store I asked a lady in the produce department for "brusinka" (cranberries). She didn't understand me and looked very puzzled, but when I showed her the word on my list told me they didn't have any. I thanked her and proceeded to shop some more. A few minutes later I hear "madame, madame." It is my produce lady carrying two jars of the sauce. She'd gone to another department, found it, and brought me a choice of brands. And then the smile! She told me she thought I'd used a word for kiss! So we had a good chuckle together, I thanked her -- and blew her a kiss as she walked away. I could hear her laughing her way back to produce. What fun!

Next unavailable item -- Pepperidge Farm or Arnold's stuffing mix. Obvious substitution there also. Buy my own bread, which I did. Four different varieties. Clean, cut, then saute lots and lots of celery and onion, part of the routine even when using the "starter". Because I'm a believer in veggie bouillon as a staple, I was already confident I could add some herb-y taste, and packets of marjoram and basil (already residing in my cupboard) contributed more. Missing? Sage! Still haven't seen it. I know the Czech word, I just haven't found it on the shelves.

Because I was teaching my relatively heavy schedule through all this adventure, I will be the first to admit there are multiple more shopping options in Prague, lots of little shops with lots of specialities, and if I had both the time and the energy, I probably could have found a few more things on my list. As it turned out, it was quite all right that I didn't make any further forays into the world of retail food!

Of course we invited my flatmate, Thomas. His contribution was his grandmother's Corn Pudding, a staple in all their holiday meals. And therein lies yet another substitution. No creamed corn here! Lots of kernal corn, but none creamed. So the preparation for the corn pudding began with finding a recipe for creamed corn. Which we did, and then improvised on. I believe I have a picture of Thomas mashing two packages of cooked frozen corn with our big soup ladle (we don't have a potato masher either!) against the sides of the big cooking pot! From there it took time, not major energy. And, of course, conversion of quantities. "Looks about right to me" was a common phrase Saturday morning.

Remember we're talking about a really small oven, so another adventure was juggling stuffing, corn pudding, and turkey cooking times. (The sweet potato dish had already succumbed to boiling, not baking, along with the winter squash.)

And yes, it all came together yet another year, and this time in another place. The turkey was one of the most beautiful I've ever done, although resting quietly on its side, Stuffing was different, and really good. Cranberry sauce was interesting, and while not a real substitute, a good thing in itself. Corn pudding will, when not quite so much work, become another staple for me. What a great adventure.

And the fun was just beginning!

I arrived early, of course, and other guests began to gather. When all the gathering was done we were a group of 16 people from seven countries, some with American English (and traditional Thanksgiving dinner) as their heritage, others (the Brits and the Irishman) with just another version of it, and the rest (more than half) with English ranging from fluent to at least a smattering. And what fantastic conversation. It is hard to imagine that Theresa had some games in readiness just in case people didn't talk. With only normal conversational tone, it got quite loud in the flat. What fun! When doing post-party analysis, I realized there were actually four distinct circles present with the only tie being to either Theresa or me. And it really worked!

The real question was how to get the conversation slowed down enough to start people through the buffet line. (We didn't; we just turned into shepherds and brought them a couple at a time.) I'm not sure when we would have moved from cheese and dips and crackers to dinner if we hadn't had a guest who needed to leave early. It was 6 p.m. when we finally cut turkey and began the "real" food.

So yes, Thanksgiving in Prague is over for another year. Even the turkey soup is nearly finished. And there are new baking and serving/storage dishes residing in my kitchen. Guess I need to create another excuse to use them!

And yes, I am so thankful. That is a daily, nearly hourly attitude. How grateful I am to have my wonderful family and friends in the States, to be here, to be healthy, to be blessed with such great new friends and terrific opportunities. It truly is a wonderful life. And I hope you are enjoying it with me.

Much Ado About - -

more ordinary events. To top the list there is the magic of the first snow. Yes, I know. It won't be long before I'll be wishing it away, or even, perhaps, homebound because of it. For now it brings happy memories, new views in this beautiful city, and the sense of yet another new beginning. Calendars can announce the seasons, nature can give signs of coming "attractions," but the first snow is, for me, always a special moment.

Friday I walked out of the laundromat into a driving sleet storm -- not at all magical, I might add. The forecast had included some chance of snow for Saturday, but that caught me totally unaware. And soaked (even with an umbrella, my constant companion!). And very chilled by the time I reached the flat. Saturday morning brought scattered flakes which stuck, creating a patchwork of red roofs and white snow outside my window, the changing scenery actually distracting as I was working.

In the late afternoon I found my boots, wrapped up in a long scarf, grabbed my gloves, and ventured out carefully for an evening with "the bunch", fun as always. And came out after dinner and conversation to an all-white world. It was real snow. Everything was covered. And of course it invited a snowball fight! This was the good, packable stuff! You knew when you had been nailed. I learned while waiting for the tram home that Pragers do slow down when driving on snow! The cars were inching up or down the hill quite carefully. And the world was beautiful. I was in my own private snow globe, and someone had given it a good shake! A picture book ending to yet another interesting evening.

The restaurant of the evening -- U Karel IV, (Charles IV, a much admired king) is a neighborhood gathering place with really good food, nice low prices, and one convenient tram ride away for me! Gotta love that combination! Along with that, the combination of people and backgrounds and topics adds up to a great evening and a whole new set of things to ponder later every time we get together. A interesting change in the evening was the addition of a couple visitors to the conversational and national mix. One, a Venezuelan business man now living in Toronto, and another a "new" Czech friend of one of my colleagues who just may become a "regular." As usual -- a great evening. And as always, yet another chance to keep assembling the puzzle of life!

The snowballers went on to Arnaud's flat for a post-dinner gathering. He's one of the people I feel so fortunate to know and am so glad that the friendship is deepening. (And yes, it does feel good to know he enjoys being around me also, in spite of our age difference.) I was sorry to miss it, but glad to come home to a - -

Skype call from Matthew and Alexander. Because of all the i'net problems, those calls have been pretty few and far between for the past few months. Alexander is SO tall, and is it wonderful to see them together in the big chair, teasing each other, having a good time, going back and forth in our conversation. The wonders of technology! And it's free. We actually talked for nearly an hour. High point? Beyond just seeing them and being "together", that is. Reading The Velveteen Rabbit together. Matthew had found it in a sale bin, brought it home and saved it for our time together. He was right -- Granne did get chocked up at the memories! (He actually said to A. "You watch your Granne. She's going to - - -" Sometimes it's just not good to be so predictable.) And I'll be waiting my chance to go through some of the generational changes with Alexander at another time. All the 1922 references.... What a great way to keep life connections. And to remind a growing boy about the power of being loved.

Three of us had set up a much anticipated Saturday morning excursion to the Asian Art Museum with Arnaud as a guide (he was an art student in Paris for several years) which fell through at the last minute because of conflicts. I can leave it on my anticipation list, however, and know it'll be great when we're able to do it. Zbraslav is a charming little "village" that is now part of Prague. The Museum is part of a family castle taken over by some former regime, now restored to the family. My understanding is that they have just been granted the whole place back. Pity! Actually good for them, sad for the fate of the museum. And the cancellation gave me some extra work time yesterday a.m. which I promptly squandered!

Today brings another treat -- I'm quite sure this one will happen as planned. I'm having brunch with my T'giving dinner co-hostess. It's time to put the last minute plans together -- that includes how we get plates, knives/forks, and other assorted party requirements from my place to hers. The menu is long and really inviting. And I can hardly believe the time is here. It means Ocean Spray (the fresh variety, that is) better start showing up pretty soon!

I'm sure I've mentioned my terrific flatmate, Thomas. He's great. Three months now, and I'm still in the camp of the lucky few who aren't complaining about this and that and something else with their flatmate -- or just downright totally disgusted. I can't find a complaint. Isn't that terrific. I really enjoy hearing him practice his guitar -- reminiscent of times with Lotte in NYC, listening to her chamber groups rehearsing in the living room. Of course, Theresa and I wanted him at the Dinner, and happily he said yes. And he's bringing his grandmother's corn pudding, which is a staple in their T'giving meals.

If I end up baking half the turkey in my oven because neither hers nor mine will accommodate the whole one, we're going to have quite a juggling act going on here. And then a great Saturday afternoon/evening when it is all put together. I believe we have about 16 people coming -- I do so hope they all come -- and she's a person who has to plan "games." And I'm very happy to let her do it!

Last Monday was a holiday for me -- and the whole Czech Republic. It was Freedom Day, celebrating the beginning of the Velvet Revolution in 1989. Thanksgiving is NOT a Czech holiday -- hence the Saturday dinner. So I enjoyed the last one and will work through this one.

A small further note -- I have yet another new student. How blessed I am with my students, my schedule, and all the opportunities to learn. I begin with this man Tuesday. He's head of HR in the region for a global pharmaceutical. My boss says he's in his 50s, fluent in English, but wants to gain confidence in meetings with native speakers. This will be even more fun!

It is snowing again -- that's probably a good sign to wrap this up and get on with some preparation for the school week. I wish you a Happy Thanksgiving, safety on whatever journeys you and your loved ones are making, good fun, good eating, and the creation of even more good memories. And in these difficult times, I'm going to end with some words from Reinhold Niebuhr which "grabbed" me again this week.

Nothing worth doing is completed in our lifetime; therefore, we are saved by hope.
Nothing true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate contest of history; therefore we are
saved by faith.
Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore, we are saved by love.
No virtuous act is quite as virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as from our own; therefore we are saved
by the final form of love, which is forgiveness."

Wishing you a special day devoted to counting once again our blessings and giving our thanks. I will be thinking of you. . .

The Magic Continues

Only one thing was on my plan for the day -- to spend some time in the afternoon with a young Czech friend/colleague. Then, as is usual in "my" Prague, something totally unexpected and wonderful happened, and I received yet another gift to share with you.

I don't even remember how our friendship began. I just know that it has grown and we both look forward to times we spend together. Usually those times are wonderfully sedentary :-) We meet at the tram stop and walk to a lovely little non-smoking cukrarna (sweets shop), have a cup of tea and talk away. And I will admit these sit-down chats have been happening since I hurt my ankle, so it is pretty logical and well as fun.

Somehow the usual became the unusual. When I said I'd enjoy walking with her -- she is totally devoted to a-walk-a-day! -- Radka asked if I'd been to Petrin. Well, yes, I had. A wonderful excursion with Dasa and Thomas this summer. We rode the funicular, enjoyed the wonders of the observatory, walked through the parks, ate at the marvelous restaurant, and all in all had a spectacular day.

It seems that's not all there is to Petrin, and it wasn't the part Radka had in mind. Although I'd ridden by another section on my way home from class several times, I had never realized it was part of a much larger whole. Petrin Hill is an enormous historic, green, public place, the highest elevation of Prague's seven hills (1040+ feet) and is made up of eight parks and orchards. (If I've made you a bit curious, a search for "Petrin Hill" will give you lots more information and some beautiful pictures on the various websites.) Originally the quarry for many of Prague's historic buildings, it has been a public park since 1825.

Two notable sites on the Hill -- centuries apart in their ages -- which continuously draw my attention are the Hunger Wall and the Monument to the victims of Communism.

The first was built under Charles IV in 1360-62, called "Hunger Wall" because in addition to being a fortification, it was to provide work during a famine. It can be seen from a great distance, a dividing line running right up the hill and beyond, 8 metres high, with 1,200 metres of the original length remaining. Several bastions still remain, as does some of the inner walkway with platforms for marksmen. Undoubtedly it was a strategic act, and it protected the west and south of the city so it could grow for several hundred years. But it also provided food for the families of those working on its construction.

The second, more moving scene, is the memorial to the victims of communism, erected twelve years after the era ended for the Czech Republic. It is deceptively and hauntingly simple -- seven figures are in differing positions on a flight of oversized stairs, their bodies in various states of decay. There is a metal ribbon running up the center of the stairs which tallies the known number of victims -- giant numbers for such a small nation. And a plaque reads "The memorial to the victims of communism is dedicated to all victims not only those who were jailed or executed but also those whose lives were ruined by totalitarian despotism." Always a moving sight, and always thought provoking -- how could there be people wishing (and voting) for a return?

But on to the walk -- up and around, lovely cobblestone pathways which turn back on themselves time and again because the climb is so steep. And here and there "rest stops" with inviting wooden benches, always strategically placed to see the city below or the scenic view of the hill. On the way to the top (which I never did reach :-( wisdom overcoming pride!) we passed a marvelous waterfall with its own little pond and statuary. Its sound had been calling for many steps. And of course, here the benches faced the water. We only paused, because it was getting to be evening, and we had "miles to go before. . ." our goal. After many twists and turns we finally arrived at St. Michael's, a church which had been moved board by board from the Ukraine in the late 1920's when the valley where it stood was flooded for a hydro-electric plan.

And there it was. Such a different building, so NOT baroque, so out of the ordinary. And breathtaking in its difference. As we approached, Radka commented that something was wrong. This is a favorite walk for her, so she knows what it should look like as it comes into view. I realized that the "stuff" was actually cleaning materials, boxes which had been emptied of something.

It is a small, very dark building, and it was only as we were actually on the porch, at the entryway, that we could see people inside, inviting us to join them. The magic is alive and well! We met one couple from Rumania, in Prague only a year, and a gentleman here for 18 years, all three of whom had been cleaning, opening the heaters (which will be used sparingly and without electricity to preserve the integrity of the building), and generally working to bring the room back to shape for divine services. Someone has lovingly cleaned the icons, the limited seating is waiting for people, and the accouterments of worship are appearing.

Beginning in a couple weeks, there will be services twice monthly, including one with the Metropolitan and all the orthodox priests from miles around for what I would call a (re)consecration of the building. We had a long talk with them -- I was so grateful I could share in their joy and let them know -- thank goodness they spoke English -- I could somewhat realize how important this is to them. What a milestone for them/us all. A few weeks after the services begin, they will start to have someone present so it can be open a few hours a week for visitors. No longer "permanently closed to visitors; no services held here". And we were able to share in the moments.

As we began to descend the hill, we passed them carrying boxes and materials up, apparently to a car/van somewhere at the top. What wonderful timing -- one stop on a bench and they would have been gone. We would have missed their joy, and they would not have known our appreciation of this giant step forward in their lives and the lives of others whose worlds have changed so often and so radically. Yet another miraculous moment.

You may enter a Google search for "St Michael's Petrin Hill" and come up with some great photographs. One of the best is a 360 degrees video of St. Michael's (on a site with many of the famous spires of the city -- you could certainly spend some interesting time there, I learned earlier today!) Here is a website address. The panoramic video is wonderful. I'll leave you to imagine us in the picture together, having yet another weekend experience.

Enjoy. . . . . . .








stovezata.praha.eu/en-church-of-st-michael-in-the-kinskeho-garden.html - 43k

A Week in the Life. . .

Regardless of the point of view, this has been some week.

At the moment, the approach of winter is very real. To paraphrase an old song -- in the dark, dark, dark of the morning. As I think about it now, I realize I arrived when it was deeper winter. But after the wonderful spring/summer light, both morning and evening, this is indeed a shock to my system! In addition, when I arrived I didn't have to be up and out quite so early. "Early" is also a shock. My system adjusts to it but complains a lot! And I know it is only going to be colder, darker, and more difficult to get around.

But oh yes -- I'm getting around in Prague. There is no lessening of my joy and contentment just being here. If anything, it is increasing. I love almost every minute of it. I'm even grateful to be sharing in the annoyances of crowded trams or long waits. Once again there are views I'd been missing for awhile. The leaves are down, some removed, some not. And the branches are open to the sky, and the saints, heroes, and yes, probably family members looking down from the niches and perches on buildings.

Continuing with the normal and usual, teaching life goes on, very happily. I have a very full schedule, quietly congratulating myself that in September I taught the most hours of any of the 127 teachers, and in October second most. Martin, my Director of Studies (boss), is one of the most even, genuinely happy men I've ever met. I admire and respect him in so many ways. And he gave me a really nice chuckle when he told me that. My reply was that now that I knew there was a race, I'd give more effort to winning. Seriously, it did feel really good to remember my misgivings and hesitations as I arrived and realize what a long way I've come. And it never even occurred to me that was the extent of my schedule. And how nice that he thanked me for the work!

It seems I'm somewhere beyond the tourist stage and not yet where I want to be with being settled in. I know the language is a big factor in that. This week was my second Czech class, and I must say the teacher is wonderful. Because of the difficulty of fitting into all our schedules, the class is held one Saturday a month for four hours. Oh my, that's a long time! This week there was some change in the attendance -- to be expected -- but I imagine we'll settle down at around 9 people, big range of ages (representative of the teaching staff here, thank goodness) and backgrounds. And yes, Czech is difficult. I'm grateful for Barbora's teaching skills as I learn Czech and as I learn more about teaching by watching her. Bought the books (a couple of us are sharing the cost and the books) and will become serious about homework.

My days are satisfyingly long. Today I teach eight hours, with my favorite beginning to a day. After two trams, I walk along the Vlatava River, looking at the Castle, the Contemporary Art Museum with its bright yellow plastic penguins parading along the shore, the Charles Bridge, the Hunger Wall, and the spires of "New Town" across the River and the gem of a little park with its fountains and monument to the victims of the plague beside me. The roses are gone now, but the care of the park, which is always beautifully manicured, continues. Love the little red "no" circle which allows dogs on the grass and not feet!

And best of all, this morning walk leads to one of my favorite classes -- bright young professional women who are advanced in their English skills. What a way to start a week.

I have one hour -- a cumbersome amount of time -- to do the tram/metro thing again, eat my sandwich on the "walk", and get myself in order for six straight hours at a financial institution. Two classes are one individual each and three are groups of four. It's been interesting to talk with them -- and watch attendance drop because of work pressures -- during this economic crisis. I'm very grateful for the years in banking and business in general as we walk together through the cause and effect conversations. And I'm especially grateful for the New York Times editorials along with a couple other resources.

The rest of the week is a similar story -- transportation, walking, classes, interesting people, some who do homework, some who don't, some who are struggling (like me) and some who are quite at home with a second (or third or fourth) language. Thursday is another very long and full day, with the others all starting early, and all but one ending around six.

Friday night was one of our informal get togethers. This was at a neighborhood pub -- the neighborhood of one of my friends/colleagues, a great young man from France. He's been talking about it as long as I've known him, and now I've been there. He did not overrate it -- it is terrific! I'd passed it weekly on my way to a class, always thinking that it looked interesting. Now I know I was right.

And - - - to the election. Hooray, Hooray, Hooray! ! ! ! ! Arnaud led in raising a glass to "your" new president. The mood at the table, regardless of nationality, was jubilant! and vocal! and thoughtful!

I awakened Wednesday a.m. to my clock radio, set for the BBC, broadcasting live McCain's concession speech. Yes, against all my better judgment, I'd watched some of the results of the proceedings on my computer. Thank goodness I had internet at the time! The speech gave me the answer. And I must say -- I left for class with my head held a little higher!

I've been following the editorials and Op-Ed columnists extra faithfully the past couple weeks. If you haven't read some of the comments (and are interested) you can access the NYT free online. (I'm glad I had it set up to come in daily because a student requested it. I probably wouldn't have thought about doing it for myself.) It has been so good to learn from others so much more knowledgeable than I, and even more affirming, to hear my thoughts and suspicions echoed and re-echoed.

Conclusion on that topic: I'm so grateful for the change and so fearful that some of the support may erode simply because there is so much to be done and it will take so long to make a difference. In many ways the period after the Velvet Revolution was reflected in my mind. Nearly everyone thought everything would change immediately. What challenges he's facing. And even in the middle of the euphoria what ridiculous questions are being raised. But I'm grateful we're at this point! And saddened at some of the lack of progress we reflect as a nation -- IMHO (in my humble opinion).

It is beginning to show signs of morning outside the window, a signal I'm behind in my schedule. As usual, I'm not quite as ready for today (and the remainder -- there is no rest -- of the week) as I'd like to be. But there's always the evening to catch up -- and then another weekend to pick up, sort through, and make some sense out of the papers I've stacked on the coffee table!

I hope your week is equally satisfying, joyful, and most of all, hopeful.

Going, Going . . .

. . . and nearly gone! Summer has left gracefully several times. Cooler days and even cooler nights, shorter days (sigh), and a little bit of gentle rain. Each time it has returned. Because I tend to forget the weather from year to year (with some memorable exceptions for snow and/or ice storms or hurricanes) I am never sure what is usual or unusual. I tend to take it as it comes -- or goes.

This time it is leaving with a graceless exit! It is stomping, not slinking, off stage right! No more lovely trees just beginning their colorful change. Now it's bare limbs nearly everywhere. The beautiful yellow blanket of downed leaves the parks were cuddling under has become rough dull brown. The gorgeous roses which greeted me each Monday morning on my walk along the Vlatava to class are gone -- at least not forever. Even the fanciful enormous pink plastic crocodile and huge red plastic dogs which invited visitors to the Contemporary Art Museum on Kampa Island have gone inside for the winter. I'm curious how many more times I'll hear the water in the fountain which, with its wonderful statues of medieval folk, graces the center of one of my favorite parks.

Fall is certainly here this week. And it would be difficult to imagine anything resembling summer returning for many months. It started when I realized I was really really cold Friday as I walked to yet another tram. I was wearing a sweater and my "new" in-between coat (second hand stores are great, obviously a very normal part of the economy with terrific choices, really good quality -- at least where I've shopped, and certainly a lot of locations!) and I was still miserable. With November arriving this week, the chill is appropriate. It's the knowledge of that thermometer going even further down that is a bit disheartening.

Our clocks have even taken their annual "fall back" position. That means it is so dark (since we're also having cold rain and heavy clouds all this week) at 7:30 (19:30) in the evening that I feel it must be time for bed. And the dull gray extra hour of morning light is certainly slim compensation. It's here - - we're well on our way to winter. And as usual I really don't know what to expect.

What a treat, however, to see the changes in all my accustomed travels. The light really does shine differently on the building facades, often revealing a new-to-me mosaic because of the slight glimmer, or even some unnoticed grime on the ever-watching statues. Summer light had made it look like artistic shading; winter gray strips away the illusion.

I enjoy seeing the "new" wardrobes on the trams and metros. It's interesting to watch older women like myself with their only slightly worn classically styled coats, even very dressy skirted suits, which I know have been around for many winters. Of course the quality is the first hint -- this is no fad item. But also the cut, color, and decoration. These are women who have watched the changes of seasons, of governments, of Prague, and even themselves. I take many lessons from the images they bring to my quietness. It is with such regret I have to answer "nerozumim cesky" (I don't understand Czech) or "mluvim jen anglicky" (I speak only English) when someone speaks to me in Czech. I'd love to know more of their stories, how they've made the peace which is apparent on their faces with their lives.

And speaking of Czech, I am once again in a Czech class. StJ provides Czech lessons an hour a week for teachers. My class lasted only two weeks (for me) when I first arrived because I was assigned to teach at that time. Happily assigned, I will add. It is a group I've remained with and enjoyed since then, even during the summer months. Now with the new term another class has been started. There are 12 or more of us in there, several of whom are also my friends. Here's the catch: we're all so busy there wasn't a single time during the week the class could convene. So - - we meet for four hours on Saturday morning once a month. That's a really tough way to learn a language! Especially since my schedule leaves me tired and not at all ready to study Czech in the evening. Our teacher is just wonderful. Intimidating, also -- she speaks seven languages and teaches wonderfully well. So I'm learning two things, actually. Czech and teaching techniques. Must admit the one is much more difficult than the other!

Things have changed here at the laundromat also. A couple of my favorite assistants have left for other jobs, there are fewer tourists, it seems, and there are three new monitors for the computers! Writing to you looks different!

It's time to fold and leave. Fall in Prague is every bit as wonderful as spring and summer, just different. I'm so blessed to be watching and participating in the changes. Enjoy them with me. . .

Memories are Made of This

What a weekend!

-- a never-to-be-forgotten weekend spent in Moravia in the home of one of my former students and his family. The occasion was the town's annual "Open Houses" which, not unintentionally I'm sure, coincides with the grape harvest and its new wine. Burcak (wish I had a Czech keyboard so you could see the actual spelling of the word) is wine which has been fermented only slightly. And it is purchased -- many times over the course of the evening :-) -- in very tall bottles for the evening's festivities.

But first a bit of history. Archaeological finds (and we visited one of the sites) suggest that primeval people lived in this agriculturally rich area which is protected by rivers and mountains since (or during) the Stone Age. Prior to the 13th century it had become an important trade and religious settlement. In 1257 the king declared it a royal town with the aim of protecting the eastern and southern regions of the Czech Kingdom. Uherske Hradiste (fortress) has had its ups and down over the centuries with the various winners and losers in the ongoing battles for domination of one sort or another. Today it has preserved much of its historic past, either through restoration or maintenance. (If you're interested, you can find the town's website with a simple search. I found it a bit more interesting than the Wikipedia information.) I knew Rostislav was very proud of his town and heritage. Only on this weekend did I begin to realize the richness and depth of that pride.

All the wonderful and historic places in the town -- actually the whole town centre, two old squares, and the environs -- are part of the Open Houses. Churches, monastaries, the old and new (1880s) town halls, restored and renovated grand spaces. Even a lekarna (chemist's -- the Czech version of a pharmacy) which has been in continuous operation since the 1600's -- decorated appropriately! The ceiling is still beautiful with frescoes (early 1700s), the lighting is from antique crystal chandeliers, and the beams are all lovingly cleaned and oiled! It's not your everyday CVS! There were two young Czech women giving the history and high points.

The presumed history and layout of the archaeological site we visited are recorded, and the site itself is open and cared for to be enjoyed by any and all. Clearly it was the choice spot for defense -- what a gorgeous and commanding view of the area. And what seamless integration of past and present -- a young boy running all around the stones getting his homemade kite off the ground -- successfully!

The trip to Uh. Hradiste was a wonderful four hours by bus through continuously changing countryside. There really is a difference between Moravian and Bohemian scenery!

What beautiful terrain. Flat grazing lands, with lovely fat herds of dairy cattle (made me wish for time with John and Sandy or at least to have them with me), enormous round and rectangular bales of hay ready for the winter, then a gradual change to rolling hills, some scattered very tall trees giving way to forests. The hills were tall enough that my ears popped several times! Then lakes, village after village, and always "weekend" cottages tucked away high and low, near water or with a view. I'd actually like to make the trip again on a train, just to see other sights and enjoy a different perspective.

One more point of my ignorance -- I never realized that the famous battle of Austerlitz was fought right here! Yes, the name has been changed -- not sure who is being protected in this one. Of course I came back to read all about it. Just another instance of the importance of this area as a crossroads north/south, east/west.

And near to Austerlitz a large family gathering, the pig already turning on the spit for the afternoon's festivities. Village and family life/roots are still very important here. As a matter of routine, I ask my students about their weekend (a good way to practice conversational English without all the pressure of having "right" answers!). It is not unusual that at least half have visited their families, week in, week out. And many still live quite near where they were born and reared.

On to Uh. Hradiste. What a marvelous family -- definitely the main attraction of the weekend! Rostislav lives in Uh. Hradiste and works in Prague, making the commute each Friday and Monday. He's a very bright man with multiple inventions/solutions to his credit. He's also such a family man -- what good times I had "practicing English" and learning about them during our classes. His wife is both beautiful and gracious, and their daughters are certainly walking in their mother's footsteps. The elder is an accomplished cellist, a finalist this year in the country-wide competition. She played for me -- her touch and musicianship are extraordinary considering her youth! The younger is a bouncy six year old with a smile that seems to go on and on. She's so excited about learning letters/words/places. She and I are in a race to see who learns more words in the other's language by the time we meet again. She is also learning to play the cymbal -- a percussion instrument which I had never seen in person before (and which I learned to love after an evening's entertainment with cymbalovka music and burcak). It was an absolutely marvelous family weekend with all the enjoyment of the beauty and history of another Czech gem!

After a full day of walking, talking, looking, oh-ing and ah-ing, we had family supper and left the girls at home. It was wine festival time. From their lovely home we walked uphill past a small 17th century chapel, across the top of the ridge, then began to wind our way downhill, greeting friends and stopping to taste and listen at wine cellar after wine cellar. There's a definite reason why this is named Vinohradsky Street! The street itself runs along the bottom of a steep hill. The beautiful homes, most with their own wine cellars (some private, some public) on the lowest level, are open and friends are coming and going, celebrating together. Some of the cymbalovka groups (violins, viola, bass, and a cymbal) are outside, others deep in the cellars. What a lovely stroll. It was a very cool, moonlit night, and time really did seem to stand still. At the bottom of the hill we joined at least another 10 friends at a table in a large tent. At first only my student and I used English. He commented later that it was interesting how much English others "remembered" as they enjoyed more burcak! Because of the cold weather, the group which had been playing on an outside stage moved inside -- right next to our table.

What a night! After several hours we walked home. Remember that hill we walked down. Home was up! It is the latest I've been out and about in a very long time! And every minute was memorable.

Sunday morning was family time -- a terrific Czech breakfast, time to talk, to hear instruments, to move slowly into the day. Then Rostislav and Anete and I drove past fields of sunflowers waiting for harvest to the next town to visit a beautiful Benedictine church/monastery/school, then on to another to walk through only a small part of a family estate and its formal gardens. Home for a wonderful dinner, then a rush to the bus station and a thoughful return trip home.

What an incredible weekend. The Pelc family are the center of it all. All the new sites, sounds, history, and impressions they've given me will last and last.

I'm grateful for the opportunity to revisit this golden time by sharing it with you. Thanks for coming with me - - - -

Catching Up

Greetings from the laundromat once again. My long silence is occasioned by an internet wasteland! Still no regular service on my own computer, though we're getting closer to the solution. Yes, it's been very difficult psychologically and emotionally. I'm frequently reminded of my grandmother and her cross country trek to make the Oklahoma Run(s). Makes me look like a spoiled child in comparison.

So much to say, so many wonderful things happening, such great experiences, and the usual limits of time and space. The question is where to begin. Certainly not at the beginning. . . . .

A quick "Reader's Digest" version of life in the past six weeks or so. (Sorry for the silence -- you would have enjoyed accompanying me on so many of the everyday adventures)

It is fascinating to watch the similarities of life even though there has been a partial turn of the globe. I've already been made very aware of the slight, but noticeable difference in the length of the days (or lack thereof, as I'm seeing it now). Have I already mentioned that we are at 50 degrees N, which I believe is a bit farther than any continental US city? That meant that I walked home after 10 p.m. in the summer while it was still soft light. And now? I come home in near darkness, even when I am just returning at 7 p.m. from a class -- there really is a difference! AND we haven't reached Dec. 21 yet!

Another "same but different"? -- the change of seasons. I must admit to some serious nostalgia for October in New England, for hearing Don Kent or John Quill (followed by others, of course) keep us up to date on how far south the peak color had travelled. Though I wouldn't tell my Czech friends, in my current surroundings I've seen nothing approaching the explosion and brilliance of the colors. And yes, I do miss it.

The second "same but different" is happening with the "fall back". This being the last Sunday in October, we turn our clocks back an hour tonight. And you have one more week before you get that extra hour of sleep.

As for the teaching routine -- it just keeps getting better. I walk around each day under a silver cloud of gratitude. I am nearly incapable of listing all the various ways I am blessed just to be here -- opportunity/timing, health, the encouragement of family and friends, each heading with numerous subheadings. The list goes on and on. But then there is the topic of StJ. I continue to feel so fortunate that we chose each other.

The contract/term is from September to June, and I am sure I mentioned that many companies stop English lessons over the summer. Not only did most of "my" companies continue, I was able to teach some wonderful students employed by other companies while their teachers were away. I taught nearly as many summer hours as during the regular term. And to think I had been concerned.

Now that we're in the next full term, I've been given several new classes with terrific students. The Client Relations Managers (folks who work with the clients then assign classes to the teachers) have been SO good to me. They have intentionally given me classes back-to-back at several sites. Not only does that mean I make one trip to/from and get paid for two classes, it also means there is less running around. (And I've been good to them in return -- my students like my teaching which, of course, brings in more business!)

One of my new students is a translator for a German/Czech company. He's Czech, spent years teaching German at post-high school level, and is now in a position in which he works directly with the Board of Directors. Another is in charge of HR in seven countries for an American pharmaceutical company. A third is a partner in a company which invests in or buys companies to make them profitable or help them grow. The only "problem" with having students such as this is that they travel a lot for their work, so sometimes we don't have our lesson. But what a grand time I have talking with them. Each of them is advanced, a fascinating conversationalist, and eager to bring in or simply discuss things they've read/heard. I certainly anticipate their lessons each week. I also have several advanced students from last term. SO glad they have continued with me.

And speaking of advanced students - - - In October I began my own version StJ's Pub Night. The name is not entirely fitting because we met in Zofin Garden, a lovely, upscale restaurant at the rear of Zofin Palace, home to many historic concerts, exhibits, and sophisticated evenings. The site is an island in the Vlatava river, just a short bridge away from the main street alongside the River, which leads to Charles Bridge, Old Town, and then across the river to the Lesser Quarter. Four other advanced students work for Zatisi Group, the company which received the contract to be the "restaurant" for this new site. Of course they felt this would be the best place for us to meet. And instead of being dark and smoky (a pub), the evening was bright and spring-like (a Newport or Ascot tent setting). Pub Night (mine, that is) is an opportunity for any of my students (also students of other colleagues if they're interested) to gather for food/drink, and social conversation. Only requirement is that they are able to converse freely in English. And how the talk did jump around. Everyone who could attend was so pleased with the night, and as for me, it was great to hear/see. We'll do this once a month. I'm so glad to be a part of it.

In keeping with my resolve of doing something each weekend that I could not do in the US, last weekend I took tram 22, aka the Tourist Tram because it winds its way through so many historic sights, right through the middle of the Lesser Quarter, up the hills and around the curves to Prague Castle, past Brevnov Monastery, and on to Bila Hora (White Mountain), site of the first decisive battle of the Thirty Years' War. (The Protestants lost.) The site itself is unremarkable. I could not help but think, however, about the bloodshed, loss, destruction and death brought about in the name of religion. And -- by the way -- this battle occurred the same year the Pilgrims landed in Boston.

The other outstanding memory of that trip is watching scores of families flying their kites in a park at least several acres square, its trees providing the outer rim, giving free rein to myriad colors, multiple shapes, and lots of bright jackets from toddler to grandparent size. What fun, even if only watching.

Oh my, this has become long. At least you know all is well here -- except a dependable internet connection, that is. More later. . .

We're Having a Party . . .

A lovely small town near Prague did, actually. And I was invited. What a wonderful afternoon! Here's the story - - -


There were four of us: two colleagues, Toni (who has been here nearly five years now, very positive, friendly, sharp, and becoming a good friend, and the organizational genius behind all the great little outings), Anne (a former fifth grade teacher who then went to Saipan and taught, has been here a year, and is now going home next week to live near her son as he finishes college and gets on with life), Eva (Toni's student, the doctor who has two teenagers, went to the castle with Toni and me a couple weeks ago, and is so much fun). It was just the right mix of people. We were all ready to have an adventure, a great day. The weather was perfect, the train ride along the Berounka River was scenic, and the mile walk into town set the stage -- lovely little homes, beautifully tended gardens, and people ready to celebrate. We'd reached our destination: Dobrichovice, a town of 3000 people southwest of Prague.

The event was their annual wine festival -- and what a great big deal it is. One of the main streets running beside the river is closed off -- entrance "gates" are placed on each end. That's where you pay your entrance fee, get stamped, then "buy" your own wine glass to carry around the remainder of the day as well as tickets to pay for the wine at each booth. I think they've thought of everything! And yes, when you leave you can exchange your glass for a clean one to take home! (As tho' I need a wine glass!)

One long side of the street is lined with booths of wine sellers -- varieties of wines, varieties of people. Each booth is arranged at its holiday best, each one different from the one next to it. Such great variety in such small spaces (much like the homes, actually). There are little refrigerators to keep the proper wines cool, some booths have bread for your palate, others have sweets to go with dessert wines, and of course some have just wine, lots of it! Even bottled water to rinse your glass! And I cannot forget to tell you about all the terrific information about the wines, the wineries, even the region, all in Czech of course!

You can "taste" anything that interests you -- certainly more than a couple drops -- and buy either a glass (or more) of wine or bottles of wine. It took us quite awhile to move around, particularly since each of us had to taste from the wine seller, then share our selection with one of the others, then have a discussion -- just as though we knew what we were talking about! The whole mood was nearly magic -- so much happening, such a festive place and occasion, and each of us more than willing to suspend everyday concerns and tasks simply to enjoy. Walk / sip / look around / sip / listen to the music while sipping / lean on an old post / listen / and most of all, talk about everything except work. It was as if time had been turned off just for our rejuvenation!

The other side of the street is "entertainment." A small, very old village church was nearly midway on the street, and outside it was a booth and viewing area for a magic show, complete with a magician/entertainer . Most of the afternoon he was walking around teasing with people and entertaining kids -- walking on stilts -- the springy kind, not wooden -- wearing a medieval costume and carrying a town flag. Later he did several shows for the kids, and of course their parents. There were vendors grilling sausages (big wursts, a very traditional Czech treat); two bands, one folk, the other jazz, on separate ends of the street; a kids' carnival with rides at the riverside. Toni suggested we might want to "rent a kid" so we also could ride. It looked like everyone was having a grand time.

One apparently "upscale" restaurant had taken out all its tables/chairs and had two (long) lines for buying food. In one line you could select some or all of a wide variety of fantastic olives. The other line displayed at least 15 different kinds of cheeses plus a platter of ham. Each person stated how much of which kinds, then paid by weight at the end of the line, where there was also a big basket of free dark bread, toothpicks for sharing food, and knives to cut/share cheese. What a great treat to go with the wine! Two of us bought olives, two of us cheese. Once we found a bench so our knees could become tables, some went out to get more wine for each of us.

Toni had learned about the festival from one of her students, Daniel. He is the longest running ever -- and that's a long time in the Czech Republic! -- president of the town council. His family's been in the town for generations. As a matter of fact, his great, great grandfather built and owned the power plant right on the Berounka River. Of course during the two "recent" occupations it was taken over. It was returned to the family -- he has restored/renovated it completely, turned it into a home for his family, another home for his parents, and an office "complex". The project launched his "new" career, and what an entrepreneur he is. Restoration, renovation, and development have become his business. We were able to see other projects he is either in the middle of or has completed. He has offices in Prague as well as Dobrichovice, and this is and will continue to be his home, keeping all those roots alive. Because it is a bedroom community for Prague -- 30 minutes by train, don't even need a car! -- the town is growing. But Daniel and his cohorts on the council certainly give great meaning to "controlled growth."

The day was even more fun because we met and talked with Daniel, heard stories from Toni about the different houses/flat buildings being renovated, etc. that she'd heard in class. We walked and walked and walked and walked. The mile+ from the train station, around everywhere, more than a mile down a lovely cobblestoned lane, just looking around and talking, then of course back, then the mile+ back to the train station, just on the other side of the river. What a day. Our train there left at 2:30, we returned to the station at 7:30 -- a perfect amount of time. And we actually got to the Dobrechovice (that's a mouthful) station about 2 minutes before the train home pulled in. Perfect timing! Great day, great event, great company.

Another adventure. Who would have thought an ordinary Saturday could become such a treat, could create another chapter of incredible memories. Great day, great company, great little town. Hope you enjoyed the journey with me.

Musings

The summer term and the school month ended yesterday. That means I have yet another round of month-end reporting to complete and a new folder to assemble for each class -- all those time consuming tasks which must be completed but which seem to add very little to a sense of accomplishment or the quality of life. It certainly is satisfying when it's out of the way, however, and my deadline is tomorrow evening. The transition also means I'm losing a few very enjoyable classes as their regular teachers return from holiday, and I will pick up a few who have begun a new contract with StJ.

Yes, I continue to be grateful that I am here, so appreciative that StJ hired me, and so thankful for the good, full schedule the Client Relations Managers keep giving me. (I was one of the few folks not complaining about lack of work during the summer, though I also had fewer hours than normal and hope to get that back up beginning Monday!) Each day I find new reasons to enjoy my surroundings in this beautiful and historic city, my varied and interesting colleagues, my marvelous (it seems I keep getting the "best") students, and most of all, the opportunites that just keep popping up. What a incredible space in which to be spending this part of my life -- how wonderfully unexpected and how exciting, even in its most quiet and pensive moments.

And pensive is how I've been lately. We passed an anniversary a week ago, and it has been ever present in my thoughts both in the runup and followup. Did "your" press remind you of the Russian invasion of Czechoslovakia on August 21, 1968? (And that it was the second time in 30 years that the machinery of war filled their streets.) Even having only English, I would have to have been deaf, dumb, and blind to miss it here! In each class I asked only once what they had heard about the event, and without prompting the conversations continued. Only a couple students were old enough to have personal memories -- and they lived in villages where there were very few changes in their daily lives, particularly because they were so young at the time. But there were stories about their parents, stories which seemed to have been hidden away, repressed for a variety of reasons.

One young man told me of finding a collection of all the newspapers articles and photographs of the event as he sorted through his father's belongings after his death, only months before the Velvet Revolution. It had never been mentioned in the home. The discovery prompted an interest in history and sadness that his father had not lived to see the next change.

Asking about 1968 also brought forth stories about 1989. One student told me that his class at school in northern Bohemia had begged to be excused so they could join the demonstrations and celebrations in Prague. Because the day off was refused, they wore red,white, and blue ribbons for days in honor of their "new" country.

Most moving to me, however, have been the photographic exhibits of the event. One is in Wenceslas (as in "Good King. . .") Square (Vaclavski Namesti) where there was also a replica of one of the tanks. Another was at an exhibition space in the City Hall at Old Town Square, a square that has seen so much conflict and managed to come through / bounce back each time, but not without human suffering. I wish you could have been with me to look at the faces in those photographs and help me sort out my impressions and feelings. Czechs are so "white" -- except for the old buildings those tanks could have been rumbling down any American street. Those faces so distorted with horror and anger could have been my neighbors and family. And I cannot believe we "deserve" to be spared! Nor do I believe any people "deserve" an event such as that.

I know -- it's complicated. I know -- we have individual responsibility for the results of our actions, our inaction, our elections, for our silence (and I am probably more guilty than the next) and complicity. I know, I know, I know. And yet I cannot walk away from the faces. I cannot look past the bullet holes still remaining in some of the buildings.

My mind continues to stumble forward as it tries to understand human (and inhuman) behavior. I cannot refuse to hear the mutterings about how things were better under communism or why everything is just fine now. And it is interesting to hear young views of political misconduct, of apparent refusal to recognize the interconnectedness of our world, of how vulnerable they still feel caught between manipulative leaders! Weaving one life is so complicated -- the threads of the warp and the woof seem to tangle constantly, and the pattern certainly is still confusing. How much more complicated when all the other threads are pulled through to make a village, a community. Trying to understand how people learn, how they view the world, and why some need it to be so simple and others can live in such ambiguity has kept me mentally engaged for years now. Seeing those faces does not make it easier. Nor is it any easier to have a different landscape, to hear different inflections and unknown words as I go through each day. I cannot use "different" as an excuse or an apology.

There is so much still churning around in my head and heart. I think of personal friends who have paid dearly for taking an unpopular stance. I look at the photographs and wonder where my face would be, how I would behave if this had been my world. I continue to do what is expected each day -- the things I have promised StJ, my students, and those who have believed in me I would do. There's so much to ponder. . .

I'll continue the journey and hope you'll stay with me. School is about to resume. I can tell by the activity in front of the one on my street -- lots of boxes, teachers taking new items in to decorate the school rooms, lists in front of the building saying who goes where and when. I'm quite sure the tourist season is not over, though it may have peaked. And I know there are lots of village and town festivals and activities planned for the fall. I will keep you posted. There's more to follow. So many new things, interesting people, and exciting events. I hope you're enjoying it also.

Day Tripping

And what a day! Křivoklát - - - - - -

Sometimes everything falls in place, seemingly effortlessly. Sunday, 10 August was one of those days. The sky couldn't have been more blue, the weather couldn't have been better, and the company? We certainly weren't Thelma and Louise plus one but we were, however, a trio of women ready for adventure. Toni, a friend and colleague, was the moving force. Our plan had even been moved forward a week, which meant happily that Iva, Toni's student, could join us. Iva's a doctor (neurologist) with regular "duties", mother of two teenagers who, miraculously, left on time for a week with their father, a dancer (for fun and exercise), a certified medical translator, and works for a pharmaceutical company -- makes me feel like a real loafer. She was ready to savor every minute and brought all her Czech know-how and love of weekend trips. That included securing a group rate (three's a crowd, remember?) on the train, a backpack with homemade blueberry bread, and an edited translation of the guide as we took our tour.

Křivoklát is real castle in a magical setting. High on a rocky hill amid breathtaking scenery, it was founded in the 12th century as a hunting lodge, then grew into one of the most important defensible castles of Czech kings, princes, and dukes. [I hope you'll take a minute to web search and see several of the beautiful pictures.] Křivoklát was rebuilt in various portions of the castle several times following damaging fires, but went into decline after it became a feared prison, final "home" to many distinguished guests, beginning in the 16th century. (I'd read about it earlier in connection with Edward Kelly, the most infamous alchemist of the 1500s. Now he's remembered with a large frescoe on the wall of a restaurant as well as in the history books.) In the 19th century the Furstenberg family restored it, adding Romantic touches as well as their library of over 52,000 volumes, only half of which are on display in the comfy library along with family portraits.

The train trip takes about 90 minutes, first on a normal inter-city train, then a quick transfer to a "motor train" which winds its way along the beautiful Berounka River, complete with a couple smaller castles, villages, weekend cottages, and even tents for campers. Once again my praise for Czech transportation. Even though this is not as touristy a site as other castles (thankfully), the on-time departures are regular and frequent. And trains are obviously the connection between out-of-the-way villages for the inhabitants.

A lovely pathway of brick pavers has been cut into a rocky ledge at the side of the river, complete with railing for those of us less hardy souls. It leads straight to the center of the town with its narrow, winding roads -- look and listen carefully before attempting to cross. You get only a few seconds' view of an oncoming car driving along the tight curves. Ahead is the cobblestone drive/walk to the castle which redefines steep, at least for me. It is so steep that once we began the climb it was nearly impossible to see the goal. And looking down on the winding road we'd left was almost like viewing an historical diorama -- little houses, "toy" cars, a hotel that had been on its site for well over a century, and a river that looked as tho' it had been etched in place by a woodcarver's knife. Breathtaking, literally and figuratively.

It is easy to imagine the fortifications when entering through a long, curved and vaulted cobblestone "tunnel". Of course it wouldn't be designed to give invaders a straight shot into the courtyard! Later in the day the walls resounded with the clatter of horses hooves as a large group left for a ride. Again easy to imagine knights and soldiers departing for whatever assignment they'd been given. During the summer the courtyard is filled with craftspeople -- woodcarvers, metal workers, brewers, serving folk, troubadours giving magic shows for children. It was almost like being transported back through the centuries to a time when the activity was necessary work for the maintenance of life within. An historical novel come alive! Then there is the tower, the inner courtyard, and at last the guided tour. Long, (Czech) detailed, and wonderful. Wish we'd known you have to ask for the printed English version when you purchase tickets -- often castle guides distribute them as the tour begins. The guide was a personable young man who appeared to be able to spend another two hours talking about "his" castle. In the library, nearly the end of the tour, we discovered he also speaks English, and learned it is a requirement for working there. How different from '91, my first visit, when it felt as though Michael was one of very few English speakers in Czechoslovakia!

What a "home". Again imagination can take over -- life must have been hard. At one point I commented I was grateful that I wasn't a soldier running up the narrow, winding steps to the fortifications. And the distance to the kitchen -- grateful I'm not a serving maid. Someone once mentioned to me that it is interesting people who talked about previous lives were almost always royalty or some member of the upper class, almost never a servant. Right!

Very late lunch in the courtyard -- traditional Czech food and great beer (of course). More walking around outside, then down the cobblestones to the hotel courtyard for an iced coffee -- it's made with ice cream here! -- up the path to the train station, and a lovely though crowded trip home.

What a day! I'm so glad you could join me for yet another incredible memory. Can hardly wait to see what's next.

Life in the (sorta) slow lane

It's a beautiful day, once again, in my neighorhood. During the week we had huge rainstorms, very cool weather, and generally difficult days for walking around, especially with my ankle still wrapped. I've become pretty good at wrapping and then cling wrapping! It's improving steadily, for which I'm very grateful. I'm also getting very good at slowing down my already slower-than-it-used-to-be pace! I must say that the past few months have given ample opportunity to notice changes in myself, something I've paid very little attention to over the years.

There's way too much else to pay attention to, however, and this has been a week of totally disconnected reading which has given perspective and even more interest to the places I go and things I see. One book, Foreigners in Prague, written by a Czech couple with wonderful Czech phrases and word choices, tells of visits by some who are very familiar to me -- Beethoven, Mozart, Edison, Einstein -- and others -- 17th/18th century artists, writers, alchemists (!) -- who are new and interesting. In addition, these are not the usual stories. What a great new view, found by accident at a "discount" bookshop by the tram stop.

My great excitement and joy was a weekend with Dasa and Thomas at her home in Zahorany. The weekend before was a reunion at the airport (wrapped ankle and all). What a great time. I had no idea how much I was longing for their arrival until they walked out the customs door. I was focusing way too low for Thomas's face -- how much he's grown since Christmas. His smile for each of us and his zipping in and out of English and Czech for multiple conversations were amazing.

Then the whole weekend together. What a great time, including a joint birthday party for her mom's 70th and Thomas's 4th, beautiful cake, candles, and his insistence on singing "Happy Birthday" and all. Got to make those beautiful Czech open faced sandwiches with Dasa for the guests who joined us, in and out Saturday afternoon. It also meant I was able to see some folks I've known over the years there. Mornings with Thomas, talking and playing with trucks/trains in his bedroom and one bedtime ritual together were long to be remembered times also. Then there was a morning at Uncle's small farm. Oh my -- what four year old wouldn't love that adventure! And what Granne wouldn't love to watch!!

I've made a couple adjustments to my teaching schedule for Thursday and Friday -- they'll be down for those days with me. Last summer he visited the zoo -- listed as 5th best in the world (I'm impressed, and will visit it on my own later). This week it will be Petrin, Charles Bridge, and perhaps Vysehrad, since it has a great playground as well an ancient church still holding mass and the graves of famous Czechs. I'm certainly hoping for sun. We already cancelled one day's visit because of storms. Whatever we do, being with them will be wonderful, fill up some of those gaps I was hardly conscious of till I saw their faces.

How blessed I am, what great gifts I've been given. Each new surprise and every reminder prompts another "thank you".

Time to be moving on, together, I trust. The computer problems continue, and I once again am enjoying the hospitality of Andy's laundromat. By the way, you can find Andy's, Petrin, Karlov Most (Charles Bridge), and Vysehrad on line with simple Google searches! Since laundry is a regular part of life, we'll catch up next week!

Till then, wishing you joyous and peaceful traveling. . . .