Miscellaneous Ramblings

Thanksgiving in Prague. Found turkey and cranberry sauce, made stuffing and potatoes, and washed it all down with some American wine. Here's a shot of leftovers. Listening to Alice's Restaurant via the Internet from New York's Only Classic Rock Station, Q104.3, followed up with some West Wing DVD action, I felt as if I was back in the USA.

Teaching lessons on Thanksgiving this week, a couple students asked why the Pilgrims began their journey to the New World in September. That meant landfall in November and expectedly tough winter conditions. Which is what happened, and half the Pilgrims died. Why not leave in March? Anyone out there know?

I've also found some interesting things about the American psyche hidden in the way we speak. For instance, think about why we say men come first in "Dear Sir / Madam" in a formal business letter, but audiences are always referred to as "Ladies and Gentlemen."

There are some wonderful conveniences in the city. First, public clocks and maps are everywhere downtown. Maps less so as you get away from city center, but full, large, detailed maps are all over the place. Likewise, most restaurants have coat racks. I'm not talking about coat-check rooms a la fancy-shmancy restaurants in the USA. I'm talking about a pole with some hooks on it. In just about every eatery.

I'm also still struck at the cleanliness of Prague. Very little littering, save cigarette butts, which get cleaned up daily. But given this, I am amazed at the number of people who relieve themselves in broad daylight. It's one thing to be drunk and not able to stumble your way to the nearest porcelain, but it's another thing entirely for a parent (mind you, I've witnessed this on more than one occasion) to lower his or her child's pants and drawers, and position them in a way so that they can empty whichever orafice they need to right on the sidewalk. Or in bushes. Hey, I'm all for it, as long as it stays out of the common walkways. Cause let's face it, when you gotta go, you gotta go. And the parental thing has the added benefit of teaching kids not to be afraid to be exposed in public. A hangup on nudity is most certainly not a Praguian thing.

Out on the town this past Saturday, I came across the castle (again), and felt the urge to photograph it (again).

Ahoj



Thaaaaat's right!

Gobble Gobble

So here I am, an American in Prague on Thanksgiving. Trying to find a turkey was nearly an impossible task. But gravy - sheeeit... with all the meat consumed in this country, finding gravy is, well, gravy.

I've taught almost all my lessons this week on Thanksgiving. Gone through some articles outlining the Pilgrims' voyage and Squanto's help. It's been met with surprise and ready interest by my students. Of course I talk about the annual Macy's parade, American Football and stuffing our faces silly with turkey, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, pumpkin and apple pies, and in my house, a phatty-daddy chocolate cake.

Yet during my lessons, a pretty obvious irony became evident. Before the Pilgrims came to the New World, they went to Holland. They were basically saying "Screw you, England, we must be allowed to do things the way we want to do them." Then, after 9 years in Holland, their children had learned Dutch and had becomed attached to the Dutch way of life, so they left and came to the New World. So they were saying, "Well, we wanted freedom so we can do what we want, but we don't want our children to have the freedoms to do what they want, we want them to do what we want them to do." A tad ironic, no? It was pretty immediately evident to me how that irony has played out over the last 400 years in the American psyche.

In any case, back to the here and now, I found a turkey leg today at the local grocery, and put a whole turkey on reserve with a specialty shop. However, the smallest turkey they have to offer is 8 kilograms. For the uninitiated, that's 17 pounds. That's a lotta turkey. With my meat-eating roommate leaving town for the weekend, and my other close friends vegetarians (to be honest, I'm really not sure how they're surviving in this, the meat-lovers paradise), I don't see a 17 pound turkey being a wise purchase.

With regards to homesickness, it has come and gone in the 3 months I've been here. Moments of each, which is clearly to be expected. However, teaching lessons on Thanksgiving and family get-togethers with massive amounts of food, NFL and Home Alone on TV, these past couple days have been pretty tough. I did find a place today which sells Aunt Jemima pancake mix and Kraft Mac&Cheese, though, so that may very well be my breakfast and lunch tomorrow to celebrate my American-hood. I also bought a bottle of California wine, with the intention of washing down the turkey with it. But I found myself diving into it tonight. I guess a return trip to the store will be in order tomorrow. Can't eat turkey and not have something American to wash it down. Czech beer is fantastic - second to none - but it's not American.

So, I wish all my friends and family a happy Thanksgiving. May the things you are thankful for remain with you in the coming year.

Ahoj!

Cesky Krumlov

Spent some time in Cesky Krumlov this weekend. Cesky Krumlov is a tiny town in the southern part of the Czech Republic. The word "quaint" is amazingly appropriate. It felt like the Czech Republic's version of Haifa, with its narrow, cobblestone streets, friendly faces and pubs and hostels galore.

It snowed a ton while I was there - even got some snow with some blue sky overhead. I'm not sure it came out that clear in this image, but it was pretty odd to have a sun snow shower.


Spent the night at a hostel with folks from all over the globe - several from Australia, and some from Canada and the States. Great times, which saw a man wearing only an Australian flag for underwear, several of us swing dancing to American music in a pub, and shots of Absinthe at 3:30 in the morning.

This was the only image I ended up taking of my fellow roudy tourists, and does not do the people I was with justice. However, I feel it necessary to point out that the man holding the beer was the Australian-flag wearer.

Before the real debauchery got under way, I took a stroll in the town and here's what I captured:

How To Get DSL in Prague

Step 1. Order the service via the Internet. Simple.

Step 2. Receive confirmation email from DSL provider. You may wait up to four days for email. Be sure to have a translator nearby; the email will be entirely in Czech. Straightforward.

Step 3. After another week has gone by and no news has arrived via email, snail mail, or telephone, call DSL provider to get a status check on the order. Provider verifies the order was completed correctly and that no technical difficulties were experienced. Provider informs you that since the order specified the provider was not needed to install the modem and software, the modem will be sent via snail mail, and will arrive the following week. Excellent.

Step 4. At the end of the following week, when no modem has arrived in the mail, check in with the DSL provider. Provider re-assures that the order was processed successfully, and the modem will arrive the following week. No worries.

Step 5. After a week and a half of no DSL modem arriving in the mail, call again. The provider now informs you that the order did meet with technical difficulties, but they will be resolved on the upcoming Sunday, and the modem will arrive in the mail on Monday or Tuesday. Oooookayyyy...

Step 6. On Wednesday, when no modem has arrived, call again. The provider now informs you that you should not be expecting a DSL modem in the mail, since you specified that you wanted the company to install the modem and any necessary software themselves. They will also inform you that the reason an appointment with a technician hasn't happened - or even been scheduled - yet is because they were unable to get in touch with you to schedule a time. They will continue to say that they tried to schedule a time with you in the only way they knew how - the existing land line in your flat - but all calls were unanswered.
So, correct the (suddenly changed) item on your order which says you do want company installation, and also, it's probably a good idea to give the company your mobile phone number at this point, so that any future twilight-zone conversations can take place at their leisure.
Upon correcting these items, the provider then informs you that the service will be wired on Friday, give or take a day (but Thursday is a national holiday, so everything's closed, and Saturday is the weekend, so everything is closed, so don't figure the +/-1 day thing to be +5 days), so you can plug in a modem bought at a local computer store and it will work fine, once the external wiring has been completed. ...Riiiiight...

Step 7. On Thursday, receive an email (again, only in Czech. You still have your personal translator handy, right?) stating that a technician will come to your place of residence between 7:00 and 8:00 AM on Friday to install the service. But, you have to give them some leeway (for who knows what), until 9:30. Remain baffled as to why the provider suddenly contacted you via email, after insisting that the only way they knew how to get in touch with you was via the land phone line. Also, don't spend too much time thinking about how your order - which never originally contained a request for installation by the provider - suddenly has the provider providing installation at 7AM.

Step 8. Friday morning, fool yourself that the company will be on time, regardless of the stellar time-telling and schedule-keeping traits they've displayed thusfar. Drag yourself out of bed (you didn't drink the night before, did you? it was only a national holiday and you had already started your 4-day weekend. no reason to drink and be merry, right?) and curse them when they haven't arrived by 10:30. Pick up the phone to call, and get no dialtone.

Waaaaaiiiit a second here - no dialtone?! We had a dialtone last night... <GASP!> THEY MUST BE WORKING ON THE LINE!!! Well, it's either that, or they've cut off your landline now...

An hour later, successfully plug in your DSL modem and surf away. (Well, not without the hassle that is configuring the modem and internal network, but details, details).

So there you have it. These 8 simple steps will have your DSL up and running in no time (well, more like a month).

Piece of cake, no?

Night Time Prague

Took a stroll last night, armed with my new camera. What a gorgeous city.

Soccer and tunnels

So, I am now sitting in an American bar scarfing down a greasy Saturday breakfast. When I read the menu, I came across the phrase "our very own Iowa biscuits." Can a bar in Prague really have their own Iowa bisuits?

In a Czech bar the other night, I was taken aback by the plastering of the walls with American movie and music posters. Star Wars, Charlie Parker, Pearl Jam... Every poster in the place was of either American or British figures. Yet on the bar itself resided a sign, in English, saying "Parking for Czechs Only." Hmm.

Last week I was invited to play in a small-sided soccer tournament by one of my students. His team was keeper-less, and having done a lesson on all the English terms related to soccer, he knew I am a tender of the goal.
On our way to the field, it was explained to me that the ground was "unreal grass, where the ball bounces real high" - so i translated that to astroturf. Well, the reality of it was that the field was clay. Like tennis courts. Not your optimal diving grounds.
During our quick warm-up (we needed much more than we were able to get - it was in the 30s and rainy) before the first match, I see someone drinking a beer. Now, mind you, it's 8:45 in the morning. I thought, "Holy crap, a beer... NOW?! What a mentality heere." I chuckled to myself.
After our first match (which we lost 2-0), we had an hour off, and so we went inside the building next to the field to warm up. The inside of this building contained toilets, locker rooms and showers, and a small cafeteria. Well, "cafeteria" may be stretching it a bit. It was more of a bar with a few tables and a TV. My teammates decided the best way to shake off their cobwebs and rusty first-game subpar performance would be to have a beer. So, 30 minutes after chuckling at the man with the beer, I was putting one back. But I have to say, it was a great idea. Calmed the nerves, and actually woke me up a bit. I told my teammates that I play much better after I have a beer in my system. So they bought me a second one. And it worked. Buzzed from that point on, I played a helluva lot better the next match. So naturally, I was bought a beer in between each of our six matches.
But that was relatively tame by comparison - my teammates moved from beer to rum with their subsequent rounds. Granted, they were drinking tea, but they added a shot of rum into each cup. Then half of them smoked cigarettes, but still ran around the field 10 minutes later. What a mentality indeed.
We ended up winning the rest of our matches (and tied our last one), so we wound up in 3rd place. Not a bad day.

So a rumor reached my ears about an underground tunnel which runs below the famous Prague castle. This tunnel is not advertised in any guide book... to get to it, you have to pull open a manhole cover behind a parking lot.

We found the storm drain, and explored the tunnel. It was, when we first got in it, about 4 feet tall, so we were challenged to maintain enough light (we only had one flashlight) for everyone to see as we hunched our way down the tunnel. The tunnel slowly got taller as we walked down it, and we were soon able to stand straight up. The tunnel was clearly a drain of sorts from the castle, and there was a small stream running down the center of the passageway.
Walking down the tunnel, we eventually came to this room we had been told about - a room where people used to stage sneak attacks into the castle from within. Apparently, years ago, if the people in the castle suspected that they were about to be attacked from that room, they flushed all the water from the castle down that drain, which would drown anyone in there, and then carry their bodies down the tunnel out to the river. Really cool stuff.
Since then, it's apparently been used for some strange pagan rituals, an idea supported by the drawings on the walls.

Down a different passageway in the tunnel, there was a way to climb up (we think to street-level, but maybe it was into the castle itself).

Here's Ben coming out of the tunnel - he's standing on the tunnel floor here (so you can get a sense of how deep it was initially)

All in all, a very neat thing to do, especially at 3AM.

As the trams run once every half hour at that time of night, we decided it was faster to walk home. If anyone reading this ever makes it here, I highly recommend walking around this city at 3:30 in the morning. Amazingly picturesque. Arriving home after 4 was a bit of a drag, though... well, not so much the time I arrived, but more so the time I had to wake up the next morning - 6 - to go teach.
But I was done at 8:30 that morning, so I promply found myself faceplanted in bed.

Granted

So we take things for granted. You do, I do. It's part of life. And when these things change, our notion of "granted" is thrown off. For instance...

Daylight Savings Time
DST, as far as I know, is an American thing. Hammering this concept home was that Congress, this year, passed a law affecting when we change our clocks. So I knew that the time changed in the US this past weekend. But no change here, since it's an American thing.
So my alarm goes off Monday morning at 7, as I programmed it to, so that I could take my time getting ready and get to my 9am lesson. I get on the tram at 8:30, and halfway to the lesson, I see the clock on the tram says 7:45, not 8:45. I check my cell phone. It says 8:45. This adds to my confusion, since every cell phone I have ever owned has its time sent to it by the local tower it is currently connected to. I get to the company where the lesson is, to find the door locked, the lights off, and no one inside. "Huh," I think. "Maybe it really is an hour earlier."
So I meander to the cafeteria in the building to get my Zapecena Houska (delicious breakfast sammich) and see the clock on the wall there concurs with my cell phone, that it's 9:00 AM, and it's time for the lesson.
Now, the people behind the counter speak less English than I do Czech. Fortunately, I knew the word for 8 (osm). So we were able to communicate that it really was 8, and that, cell phones here have their own clocks, not regulated by any outside forces. And, the Czechs have DST too. Ahhhh, Monday mornings.
And so began my week.

Public Transportation Routes
On my way to my Friday morning lesson, I walked out to the tram I have taken about a dozen times. After a few stops, I didn't recognize the territory.
Can anyone tell me why a tram - or any form of public transportation - with identical numbers will have different routes? Doesn't that defeat the purpose of the tram number? Seems to me there ought to be one tram number per route. But hey, that's me. I'm funny that way.
So I get off the tram and look at the station list. My destination was nowhere to be found. Ok.... well, I still had plenty of time before my lesson. I take the tram back in the opposite direction to a central metro stop. Wonderful. Looking on the 4 trams I know go to my desired destination, I see it located on none of them. Zero. Hmmmm.
I metro to another centrally-located station, and look at the tram station list there. No dice, my destination isn't listed there either. It turns out they're doing construction on several of the lines, so many stations are now unreachable via tram. Hmmmm.
To replace the 5 missing stations, they have added one bus. Hmmmm.
Needless to say, all this running around turned into a cancelled lesson (the student had to end his lesson at 8:30 am, regardless of when it started, so it became pointless to continue the public transportation runaround).
And so began my weekend.

Timely follow-ups
We get annoyed (and rightfully so) in America about public service companies who say "we'll be there between 12 and 5 on Friday" and then show up at 11am, or at 6pm. Yet the Czech version of this makes the cable company look like atomic clock engineers. Ordering DSL for our flat a couple weeks ago, I was told the DSL modem, which is to arrive via the mail, was to arrive at the end of last week. Well, I'm in a pub as I type this, because "the end of last week" has turned into "oh, it'll be there next week, definitely." as reported by the company this morning. So, with any luck, I'll have DSL in my apartment by Christmas.

Also, FedEx informed me they had attempted to deliver a package. I called them, as stated on their note, to arrange for a delivery when I'd be home. Saying "11 o'clock", they said they'd be there between 11 and 12:30. However, I arrived home at 10:15 to find a note they had already been there that day. Hmmm. Fortunately, calling and (politely) yelling at them got them to come back at 2 that day.

While statements in earlier posts about acclimatizing to life here are truthful and accurate, I am still not used to the "time references have no meaning" aspect of the culture.

So clearly, schedules have not been my friend this week. It's going to be an adjustment when I return to the States. "Oh, you REALLY meant 12PM Monday? I thought you meant 2PM Thursday when you said Monday noon."

On a brighter note, I have held several classes over the past couple weeks, asking students to elaborate on their views of life under Communism, and their lives since it fell here. Truly fascinating results. I will collect those thoughts in a coherent manner and post them soon.