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.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
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. . .
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. . .
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 - - - -
Sunday, October 12, 2008
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. . .
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. . .
Saturday, September 6, 2008
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.
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.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
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.
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.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
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.
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.
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