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.