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.

The more things change. . .

What a wild couple of weeks! Lots of ups and downs -- most annoying was that my internet connection was perpetually down. It spends days down and minutes up, and I'm sure we're not finished with this yet! For almost three weeks now it has been unavailable for days/weeks at a time, then returning -- perhaps -- in 30-minute spurts at random times. Reminds me of inserting coins for heat in Great Britain.

One of the things I remember very clearly from an article discussing Culture Shock sent to me as I finished my certification was, I believe, Step 3: Becoming annoyed at things which don't work as you expect. And of course my mental response was that I wouldn't let it happen to me. Frankly, I'd been annoyed enough (mostly quietly and usually only to myself) at things in Durham that I wondered how that could possibly be a problem. Well -- take away my connection and I quickly find out! It is a lifeline for me mentally and emotionally. My family is on the other end, wherever they may be at any time. My friends are around, even when we're not in constant contact. And, of course, it is my connection with information I need from StJ as well as an opportunity to research topics needed for teaching.

This object lesson in the importance of connection and communication has reminded me over and over of my incredible, wonderful grandmother -- homesteading twice in Oklahoma as it was opened for settlers. (Never mind the people who were already living there. And, by the way, some Czechs mentioned our past with the Indians just this week. What could I say . . . ?) What a difference in my choices and hers. My goodness, I can actually see Alexander as we talk on Skype. Almost no one is very far away, when I have a connection, that is.

And an up? I now have all of my visa completed! Hooray. We were notified the processing was complete, and one of the young women from the StJ office made the trip to Vienna to pick them up at the Embassy for Kim and me. I believe I'd already mentioned we couldn't leave the country then return in fewer than 90 days unless it was complete and in our hand. After she received them, we had three days to get a stamp from the Foreign (aka Alien) Police. Of course, they were closed on one of those days, and we had to save the other in case something went wrong. There are lots of stories about how much can go wrong and how awful the day at the FP can be. So at 4:45 a.m. Monday we joined a great hoarde of non-Czechs, some of whom had slept there overnight to be at the front of the line, which at that point was a long distance from where we stood. What chaos. There were even several imitations of a military-style regimentation from a couple people who had obviously taken money from a long list of people on the promise that they would be put at the front of the line. Fortunately, there were others who helped us stand our ground. Actually, just describing the people in my immediate vicinity and the varieties of humanity, humour, and helpful/lessness would take many pages. Police arrived to keep order about 6:30 and the doors opened an hour later. The crush was unbelievable, even with what small semblance of order had been restored. With all the right paperwork -- and StJ made sure everything was in order -- groups of 20 or so entered at one time to receive a number. Sort of a deli counter without food! All the numbers for the day had been given out before 11!

To make a long story with lots of twists, turns, and very interesting people short - - - in only eight hours I was out of there, new visa firmly affixed to my passport. And my words to the young woman who joined us from StJ (just in case we needed any translation) were, "I believe I've waited 18 years for this." It was, indeed, a happy moment. I've been "legal" since arriving, taking required steps at the right time. It's just that now it is all together in one very important place. What a wonderful moment.

I've also learned about hospitals and medical insurance recently. Proof of medical insurance is required for the visa. It took one very long morning, lots of running around, and a significant amount of money to get that completed. The man who did my paperwork was a delight to work with -- gave great explanations and went out of his way to make it all work just right.

You guessed it -- only a week later I needed it. My foot (what else do I need more than my feet for all this running around, huh!) was really severely injured when a woman knocked me off balance and then hit my weight-bearing leg with her little pull cart. Oh my it hurt. One more shortened story -- StJ gave me all the right information, checked out the insurance process, got everything in line for the hospital, where I had to go to the Foreign Office. (There's that word again!) Apparently this hospital is especially good at dealing with EU and other non-Czech speaking folks. I cannot believe how smoothly it all went, almost no waiting, extremely helpful and solicitous people, a great woman doctor who gave good information and instructions. Could not have been better, including the fact that their English was great and they took care of insurance coverage without having to go through reimbursement! Nothing was broken, though it still doesn't work right. I came out with one heck of a wrap that I'm to wear for five days. And I can get around quite well. I am SO blessed. So you and I continue to travel on together.

Oh yes, other changes. This is the time of the year for saying goodbye to new friends and colleagues. Over the past several weeks colleagues who had become new friends have left for other, not necessarily greener pastures. A couple to grad school, a couple to continue their retirement, some looking for another country they want to visit. And yes, there are empty spaces even though our differing schedules meant that we didn't see each other regularly. Certainly the hiring process is in full swing, and there will be other new faces in the fall. But I feel fortunate to have met some really lovely people and gotten to know them even for a short time.

The leave taking and summer break for the client companies combine to bring about a lot of schedule changes. I'm so grateful that the Client Managers have given me some great new people to work with and many of my regular students/companies are continuing through the summer. I just have to get the different routes and times changed mentally. Oh, yes -- this is a right turn, not a left turn today!

As for change - - - it is indeed the constant. Even when the schedule and the days look as though they will be the same or very similar, something wonderful happens. Here it is a new week -- wonder what it will bring!

Travel in peace and with joy - - -

Oh What a Beautiful Mornin'

Every Monday morning I hit the cobblestones (early, of course) and "tram" my way down to the Vlatava River. When I get off, I'm right in front of the Slavia Cafe, "where Karel Tiege, Jiri Kolar, and a struggling Vaclav Havel once tippled, penned, and plotted the overthrow of Communism." And that's just for starters.

Turning the corner I have an unrivaled view of Prague Castle, St. Vitus Cathedral, and all the incredible buildings with their glorious red roofs in between. Walking toward my destination -- class with a bright, gracious, young woman -- I can view the saints, martyrs, and tourists on Charles Bridge, look from spire to spire at churches which have watched, and watched over, the centuries of changes in this ever changing town, and of course, keep checking the waves and ripples of the river.

After a couple minutes, the right side of the cobblestones begins to compete for my attention. And it wins just in time to enjoy, yet another time, the drawings of Jiri Slyva, a graphic artist with a quirky sense of humor. One of my favorites is a drawing of two woven bamboo bird cages connected by a twisting passageway. A bird is flying "free" from one cage through its passage. The route is upward, then around, and unbeknown to the bird, ultimately down into the other cage, which is out of sight of the first. What a commentary . . .

Yet a few more steps and I'm walking beside a lovely small park. The twisted tree trunks are obviously very old; the wrought iron fence is low, clearly not intended to keep me out; the benches, all facing the Vlatava, are inviting; and the tall sculpture and fountain in the center adds its own message of welcome and continuity.

At last Spring is visiting Prague. It's been threatening (or promising) to do that for some time now. Finally! And staying indoors is not even an option. Yet one more time in life when I just have to be in the middle of something before I learn how much I enjoy it.

Everything sparkles. Although there are a few of the early flowers missing, I do remember the surprises of color here and there, and I certainly still remember how welcome they were on the continuously gray, damp days of April. But now? Oh my goodness! There's sunshine, filtered through soft clouds and brilliant in a Carolina blue sky. There are dew diamonds on the grass, there are flowers I've never seen before hanging from bushes, there are newly planted window boxes perched at nearly impossible angles from 19th century windows. There is wonder and hope and promise almost everywhere.

And yes, the wonder is mine also. How could I be so fortunate as to be here in this wonderful place able -- physically, emotionally, and spiritually -- to marvel at and appreciate its gifts? And yes, I do wonder why it seems so right. And I wonder "what's next" even as I have not completed "what's now."

My feet have kept moving -- almost steadily. Sometimes they just have to slow down or stop so I can look a little further or take an extra few moments of enjoyment. And forward movement seems to be not only possible but also mandatory! No other option works for me.

Opening the right door takes me to an hour with Irena, which brings even more sparkle to the day. Rogers and Hammerstein had it right -- it's a beautiful morning!

Tram Travelin'

They did it! First the background - -

Five very long weeks ago "my" tram line was closed. The notice calls it a diversion, and it certainly is that. Everyone assured me that when the notice says May 3, it will be running May 3. I moved here from North Carolina, and believe me, I found that very difficult to believe. (In all fairness, I can think of a couple other states which would make it nearly as difficult.) I have been waiting semi-patiently to ride "my" tram today. I really didn't care if I went somewhere or nowhere. I just wanted to go. Rain or no rain -- and I would have won had I placed my bet on rain.

Friday I made my usual "diversion" trip on the alternate line (it has been adding 20-30 minutes to both the beginning and the end of every trip) and came face to face with what appeared to be a very bad joke -- a new diversion sign. And on "my" line! I wish I were mature enough, psychologically developed enough, or maybe even natured enough that I could say the sign didn't send my spirits plummeting. It did. And what seems even worse is that I was having all sorts of unhealthy reactions without even knowing what was going on!

Have I mentioned before how much I love Prague trams! I enjoy moving through the various sections of town on them; I'm fascinated seeing the constant interplay and jockeying for position of other riders; I'm entertained hearing the music of the language on multiple cell phone conversations; I'm particularly delighted watching the very well-behaved babies and toddlers in the strollers and dogs at their owners' feet. Trams are terrific! And best of all, they really work. They almost always come when they are supposed to, and they always take you where they promise they will. What a deal.

If I had to say where I would place myself on a line which moved between pessimist and optimist, I think I'd go about halfway between realist (obviously the center of the spectrum) and optimist. I'm ready to believe things are going to be great -- at least I'll give them a chance to be. That is why I turned right toward "my" line, not left toward the "alternate" when I left the building today. I was ready to believe that May 3 meant May 3.

And they did it! Just before I got to my stop, a tram went past. And I wasn't even upset that I missed it. No big deal -- I can wait for another. They always come. And another came on time, but it didn't have the right number on it -- it was an orange 30 sign. (A tram number beginning with a 3 is a temporary number.) Got it -- this is the new diversion. And off I went, to a section of Prague I'd not seen before, part of the old King's vineyard (that's why the district is called Vinohrady) and beyond. And I learned that life will be much easier than it has been recently. I learned I can go somewhere very new and come back to the familiar, I can find my way around new names and places, even anticipate the adjustments I'll need to make. I'm being "at home."

I am impressed. This is a big promise kept! They not only fixed the water lines in the area which had been closed (what I was told was the main reason for the closure), they also laid all new tracks and planted trees along the edge of the sidewalk. They certainly exceeded all my expectations.

Now I'm ready to believe that this next two weeks will end on time as promised. And I'm going on a tram again tomorrow, just to see where it will take me. I know there will be beautiful buildings as well as ordinary ones, and there will be people whose stories I'd love to hear, and best of all, I'll continue to believe the promises.

Not just the ones from the civil engineers. All the promises of life.

Been there (Vienna)

Done that (applied for my visa)! And now I can say "Oh yes, I spent the day in Vienna. Just a quick trip down and back." Another never-to-be-forgotten experience.

It began with a bit of a shock -- my colleague and I had purchased our tickets for the overnight train together, hoping we would be in the same coach. We asked lots of questions, received what we thought were all the right answers, and felt comfortable that at least a known part of the trip was in order. Wrong! The first time we were told, in very limited English, that we didn't have reservations, we couldn't understand, or perhaps couldn't believe what was being said. The second time we were told that, we understood -- it was the conductor speaking and he had excellent English! Turns out that, although we had a handful of expensive tickets (remember, we're crossing a border), we didn't actually have a reservation. Basically we had paid for the trip, paid for the compartment, paid for the bed, and didn't reserve any of it. I still don't understand it or how it happened and that really didn't matter. Solving the problem did matter, and we accomplished that with more Euros. Hooray -- we were in our marvelous three-person sleeping compartment.

The beds were already made up -- three high -- crisp and fresh. The tiny bathroom in the tiny compartment was a design marvel. It even had a shower! There was a bit of stopping and switching. And then it was 6 a.m. and we'd arrived at a great train station. Clean, airy, a variety of places for breakfast, and, best of all, a very helpful information center! We bought our all-day transport pass, went right out the front door, walked across a set of tram tracks, boarded the #18, and we were on our way. Could not have been more simple. One easy change, and we were only a few blocks away from the Czech Permanent Mission, arriving early enough for a neighborhood stroll.

The buildings and colors were so similar that it was almost as if we'd not left Prague. (You can see our destination -- a much better picture than mine -- by "searching" for Czech Embassy Vienna.) And the woman who assisted me in the Visa Section could not have been more helpful. Thanks to Katerina, another colleague, everything was in order, and after multiple examinations of all the papers and more Euros, we were on our way.

When we left the tram we walked straight ahead to the Ministry. I couldn't miss noticing, however, that Schonbrunn, the marvelous Hapsburg home, was just to our left. (That's another good internet search -- great history, wonderful pictures.) And Schonbrunn was Stop 2 in our day.

My impression on the long (cold, windy, rainy) walk to the main entrance was that it could be Versailles. And sure enough, it is very similar. And at the same time very different. Purchase of the grounds (more than a square mile) began in 1596, construction of the middle part of the present palace in 1696, and the first festivities (I'm curious how one would celebrate the opening of such a home) began three years later. It was Maria Theresa, however, who made it the "family homestead" we visited. It's amazing when I realize my "family homestead" was a one-room sod cabin two hundred years later!

What a wonderful place. I am grateful that, in spite of all the world turmoil, all the changes of ideology and government with multiple restitutions, there are places from our collective past which have been preserved or restored. And certainly Schonbrunn has seen many changes. Today it is not only a packed tourist site (and we weren't there on a special or sunny day, certainly not in tourist season), it is also a place where people come to the lovely park to walk the dog, sit under an umbrella of ancient trees, or just stroll around for relaxation.

As could be expected, there were choices of eating places within the grounds. I'm so glad we opted for "top" choice: inside the china-linen-turn-of-the-century-music restaurant. We also selected traditional food (another great choice). Because Kim's only request was eating Sacher torte at Hotel Sacher, we passed on the astounding desserts. During our little train trip around the grounds -- zoo, botanical garden, and Gloriette (Maria Theresa's breakfast "room" high on a hill overlooking the city) -- a furious storm broke, and we spent the remainder of the day very wet and quite cold, which, of course, slowed our explorations. If you're interested, a search for Schonbrunn zoo will bring you a great chronology with pictures of the panda cub, born last year. Both the zoo and the botanical garden are responsible for research and innovations in their respective areas.

Public transport again, this time subway, to one of the central areas. We came to the surface right in front of the Vienna Opera House -- oh for a chance to be inside! -- and only a block from Hotel Sacher, Stop 3. Altho' a relative newcomer (1876), it also is the turn-of-the-century glamor I'd hoped, all the right colors, pictures, seating, and even three tablecloths with signatures, now embroidered for preservation's sake and including Franz Joseph, of famous guests of Anna Sacher, widow of the founder. She is the moving force which made it the 5-star establishment it is today. And yes, the desserts are terrific!

So often during the day I thought of Lotte, my dear Viennese roommate. How I wished she could have been with me. And how I hope I can return. What a mixture of enchantment and reality. I'm certain that, just like Prague, you can be a quick tourist or you can linger and enjoy so many marvelous places -- and desserts!

Nearly 30 hours later I was back in my own bed, safe and satisfied. My passport is now stamped "visa applied for" with four days to spare, and I continue to be legal! So happy to have been there and done that!