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.
Showing posts with label Making memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Making memories. Show all posts
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
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 - - - -
-- 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 - - - -
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