My last farewell

Holy crap! I’m leaving. It’s one of those things that you know is inevitable but you block it out of your mind for sanity’s sake... like going to the dentist.  But alas I must leave.  Tomorrow is May 16, 2011 and that is the day Cassie, Madison, Bryce, and David arrive in Praha. That is the day a new adventure starts. And that is the day I must begin to grasp the fact that I am leaving my beloved city for good (well at least for a while).  But the scary thing is that I can’t predict the future, especially because I am in that phase where I have absolutely nooooo idea what I want to do with my life or where will be in ten years, and therefore no idea if I will ever be able to be here again.  Will I ever go to the strudel man again, or  have a beer at U Sudu? Will I ever be in a situation where I can jump on a tram after school and go to the opera for $5 as my afternoon activity?  Will I ever see my Czech friends again? will i ever do homework at Cafe Pavlac or get choclate soup at Coco Cafe? Will I ever play card games a The Big Labowski's or drink cocktails at Bacowski's? WIll I ever go to another Zizkov carnival or walk the beer gardens of Petrin hill?  Will I ever eat goulash three times a week again and wander the Czech country side on my days off?  

It's not that I dread the future; it is more that I know I will never be able to repeat this stage in life.  On one hand that is a good thing because what is to come has the potential of being just as exciting but on the other hand it will always be different. 

So because of this realization I decided to live up my last weekend in Prague to an epic proportion. I started the weekend on Friday volunteering at a Czech preschool. I woke up a 6:30am to be at the school by 7:40am, walked in, took off my shoes and played with the cutest little toe heads you have ever seen in your life for a good three hours.  By the end they were calling me "maminka" (mom in Czech) and speaking to me as if i knew what they were saying while i nodded my head and continued to repeat 'good' and 'pretty'.  Then at one point the other English teacher came over to remind me that us Americans aren't allowed to speak in Czech for fear we will ruin the learning curve of the young ones.. haha. how humiliating.  I probably learned more about Czech culture from the kids in one day then a month here in Prague talking to adults.  you learn a lot about a society from the way the kids act because they merely watch and repeat what they see, which gives you great insight into what goes on behind doors in Czech houses. For example the girls run around crazy while the boys sit silently playing with their toys and obeying all the rules :). 

Later in the day I met up with one of my friends from Slovakia and started the process of 'the last hangout before I leave" which will no doubt last until Wednesday night and which regrettably only prolongs my agony...

The next day I went to Karlstien castle with a friend (Magda) who lives nearby and my two of my friends from kazakhstan.  Let me paint a little picture for you about this little village an hour outside of Prague.  You exit the train and there is nothing in sight expect miles and miles of green rolling hills and forests.  You walk across this bridge and round the corner and suddenly you find yourself at the bottom of a long, windy road, which leads to a fairy tale white and blue castle glistening in the sunlight at the top of the mountain (not exaggerating just to make you jealous... cuz my description is actually more of an understatement). We walked up the cobble stone street where all the little 18th century cottages have been turned into tourist/ souvenir shops and 'traditional Czech food' restaurants, but have remained picturesque nonetheless.  Once you walk up the path through the forest you finally ascend to the hunting Castle of Holy Roman Emperor Charles IV, who picked the site because it reminded him of the French country side and was the only place he found peace and solace.  Lets just say I have been to a lot of Castles all around Europe and Karlstein is in my top 3.  After touring the intricate architecture and climbing the tower to see the most spectacular view of the village, we followed a path down the mountain to Magda's favorite secret place for lunch.  We had Kofola (Czech communist coca-cola) and Svickova (beef and dumplings with cranberry and whip-cream...very interesting flavor) in a restaurant that was tucked away in the side of the mountain.  It was a spectacular day.  That night I visited my friends from bible study and had a movie night pigging out on snacks and candy, which was also great. 

The next morning I got up really early to visit my friends from Pardubice (about 1:45 min outside of Prague). I have been meeting with my friend Darina for English conversations since February and actually became really good friends with her over the months. So I finally got to visit her and her boyfriend Marek, (who has also become a good friend) in their home town. After I arrived we drove into town, saw the town square, their local Castle and learned all their local legends. After a great lunch at their favorite place we drove about 30 minutes into the country side to a small village called "happy hill". Literally Czech style disneyland...expect real. This village is unique in that no one actually lives there anymore but has been preserved into an exhibit type space where all the houses are originals from the 17th, 18th century.  The houses are wood with stone floors and are scattered throughout the forest with a stream that circles the outside. The open fields and rolling hills go on for as long as the eye can see and all the shades of green overwhelm the senses.  It is amazing that just a couple miles outside the city is the beautiful nature of Eastern Europe and the breathtaking Czech countryside.  After our little adventure we head back into the city and get dessert, walk around, get coffee, and then say our final goodbyes. But never fear they are going to come visit me in LA! :) (or at least that is what i tell myself to make my goodbyes less devastating)

Anyway, I came back home and am now getting ready to pick up my friends from the airport tomorrow! 

So my last and final thoughts are: I LOVE PRAGUE! I have loved every minute of my time here (even the lonely, homesick moments because they simply added to the overall experience).  I Love Zizkov (my district in Prague)! And lastly I love Jesus because he has blessed me beyond belief and given me siblings who loved me enough to pay for my experience, parents who supported me during my time here, and friends and family who miss me and will be there when i come home. I didnt do anything to deserve this. I was born into privilege and was born into a world that allows me to travel, be mobile, experience, learn, observe, relax, and live freely.  I cannot ignore the fact that not everyone gets this experience, but that just means that I am in more of a position of service to those around me.  I have been given the world and now it my turn to serve and bless the world the same way it has blessed me.

So thank you for reading my blog and joining me on this journey. It was comforting to know that I was not alone and that I shared much of my life changing semester with the people I love most.

this is my final goodbye and me (for the last time) 
Czech'ing out

So who are these Czechs anyway..??..

After living here for 4 months I am hardly an expert on Czech culture or the spirit behind Czech people; but I have spent my time here listening, asking questions, observing, and soaking up any information people have to offer.  From the university professor I met in a jazz club once, to my Czech friends, 

to missionaries who have been living here since communism, to random conversations with Prague natives, to my official Czech culture class, and finally from all the Czech books I have read this semester, I have accumulated knowledge about his strange and enchanting city that has fully captivated my heart. So I decided to write it all down and make one final assessment and interpretation of what is really means to be Czech.

The first thing you have to understand is that Czechs are naturally reserved people. They have been used and abused and told what to think since the Holy Roman Empire in the middle ages.  Under the Hapsburgs they were servants and peasants in their own land while the Austrians reigned as nobles. But I already gave you a history lesson earlier in this blog, so all I will say is that Czechs are justifiably cautious of ‘the other’ or ‘the foreigner’.  The newer generation is not as overtly racists (unless you are talking about Russia, then the hate streams out of just about anybody), but it is primarily the older generation who just wants to be left alone. They want to be Czech; they want to discover what that means, and in a way tourism is a new form of invasion. Tourism is a new concept for the Czech lands and many people don’t know how to deal with it. So when you think you are being ignored when you walk down the street or purposefully ostracized unless introduced by a connection or mutual friend, then you are right. Why should you be trusted unless you prove yourself to be a friend first?  BUT once you are a friend then Czech’s are sweet, thoughtful people who would love to get a beer with you and talk about America and what it was like under communism. However, when you do find yourself in this honored position, something to remember is that Czechs don’t understand American pride.

They love their country and want to be left alone to enjoy it, but they don’t gush over it like we do.  The old buildings don’t mesmerize them as they do with us. They are cautious of the old and want to simply think about the Czech Republic in the future as new, modern, and progressive, which creates an ironic paradox considering Prague is considered by foreigners as a gem of the past, and outside powers (from HRE Charles IV to Hitler to modern day tourists) have desperately tried to preserve the city for themselves as a place to step back in time and experience history starring at them in the face. The problem with this is that Czech’s don’t want history starring at them in the face. They did history, they tried it, and it failed them.  Ask any Czech person and they hate the old looking, thick brick walls with red roofs. They want glass houses with modern architecture and a feeling of light and freedom.

This love/hate relationship with tourism gets complicated however because tourism fuels their economy (as one might assume) and foreigners are a necessary element in that process. But once communism fell in 1989 and the ecstasy of freedom and seduction of the west wore off and they realized that the democracy was just as screwed up as communism…just in a different way. Don’t get me wrong, the Czechs HATED communism (probably as much as the Hungarians) but there is this paradoxical nostalgia for those times, the simplicity of life, and most importantly the fight. The velvet revolution provided the poets, the musicians, the intellectuals, and the young and passionate students with a purpose and a noble cause to fight for. Prague spring and the velvet revolution (both anti-communist movements) cultivated more pride and more artistic culture than ever before in these lands and people miss having a common goal to unite under.  Their last heroes, their last celebrities were the Plastic People of the Universe, a dissident rock band form the 80s.  Since then there has been a lull, a lack of inspiration, and nothing to fight for. The corruption of the new democratic government is disheartening and a much more complicated giant to tackle. You can’t blame corruptions like you can blame a dictator.  For this people look back on those times and say, ‘maybe they weren’t so bad’ at least passion filled the streets back then.

So current day Czechs walk around, going about their lackluster lives of work and home, work and home suffering from an inability to fill the vacuum of what once was.  Vaclav Havel (the Czechs most famous dissident turned president) once explained that “They must pay for the attempt to seize nature, to leave not a remnant of it in human hands, to ridicule its mystery; they must pay for the attempt to abolish God and to play at being God.” In this way Prague is uncanny. There is a left over sprit that was once there, and will be again, but is currently blind and searching for its way back through the darkness.  You can almost feel the remains of an artistic fervor and political oomph leftover from its glory days and every once in a while you can catch a spark in the eye of a neighbor.  But suddenly a gust of wind sweeps through and the sent is gone.  Prague is uncanny because it is not dead but it is also not alive.  It is not ostentatious but it is also not silent. The streets are not completely strange but they are not familiar either. There is a missing piece that haunts the city.  Paraphrased from Havel, Prague is missing a horizon that will place the smoke in the distance and will ground them into the now. It will reignite the excitement of mystery and spark a need for sincere collective thoughtfulness. There is a future for Prague and it is slowly making its way back home; but in the meantime Prague must remain long suffering and wait for its redemption.

In plain words there is a lack of passion and lack of caring.  Beer consumption has increased ten fold over the last couple decades and it now ranks number one over Ireland for beer consumption per capita.  This is what they live for now, beer and finding a significant other… and PDA.

And while that all may seem a little harsh truly none of the words are my own. I have simply paraphrased what I have heard over and over and over again throughout the last couple months.  The Czechs are their own biggest critics.  They see what is wrong but no one knows how to change it. In all my conversations never once has anyone offered me a solution or movements to change public opinion. They simply state problems as fact and move on. 

But don’t get me wrong. I love this place.  I love how introspective Czech people are and how they regard their artists, musicians, and intellectuals as the highest and most respected.  I love how even their puppet shows are operas or political commentaries. I love how they still pride themselves in their communists ‘kola’ and how restaurant/ pubs fill every street corner. I love their language. I love that they eat fried cheese for dinner.  I love that the cardinal sin is to eat meat without ordering a beer alongside it.  I love that everyone reads on the tram. I love the cobble stone streets. I love the miraculously obedient Czech canine species.  And while I don’t love t that you have to pay for water I do love that you can sit in a pub for hours and never be bothered unless you ask for the check on your own time.  I am going to miss this place. I am going to miss meeting new people every day and sitting back and soaking up a new environment, a new culture, a new way of life. 

I will do a farewell post next week but for now I just want to say that I love these people and I love Prague and this semester will always hold a very special place in my heart. 

When you have your 21st Birthday in Europe

When the average American girl turns 21, the day is spent getting ready for the big night and the night is spent drinking shots that seem to be different because they are technically legal this time. But I guess it is no surprise that turning 21 in Europe is a little different. Americans try desperately to recreate the experience they think they should have had if they were still in the states only to find that no body really cares, leaving the day subconsciously disappointing.  See the problem is that you simply can’t compare the two and you certainly can’t force one situation upon another, which is why I didn’t even try.  Of course I went to a pub the night of my birthday and took Becherovka shots at midnight (which is a Czech specialty). But the real celebration happened the next day on Easter, April 24^th.  I thought to myself, what do Europeans do best… FOOD!  So my roommates and I spent the entire day cooking from scratch an Easter feast with Czech dumplings, two roast chickens, Czech potato pancakes, fruit salad, vegetable salad, two lamb cakes (a Czech Easter tradition), and sangria.  Technically it was a potluck but the only people who ended up bringing anything were my Eastern European friends who brought even more cake and other desert pastries. Basically we had more food than anyone of us knew what to do with. So we ate and ate and ate… a true Czech birthday.

But the best part is still to come. Following my birthday feast was a ten-day epic trip with my sister traveling across Eastern Europe. We went to Budapest, Slovenia, and Croatia spending about three days in each place and having the time of our lives.  Note: read at your own risk. It’s long and more for my records than for yours. But if you do decide to read, take a break, get some coffee and snuggle up. 

The first day was in Prague where I made Bryn eat some Czech street sausage, fried cheese, and goulash and of course ordered the infamous Pilsner and Becherovka.  I took her to the Lennon wall, my favorite peeing fountain, toured the lesser known but far more beautiful Vysehrad Castle, and showed her around the heart and soul of my Czech experience: Zizkov.  The day regretfully ended with me packing up my life and putting into a suitcase anything I didn’t want to travel with at the end of my program, which was far more stressful than I had anticipated. So while crossing my fingers we sat on the suitcase, pushed and pulled until it miraculously zipped up, and headed out the door to begin the most unplanned and unorganized trip I have ever attempted. The only requirement was to be in Zagreb by May 4^th and to have as much fun as possible. PERFECT.

BUDAPEST:

In a true Pyke fashion the first thing we did was take a free walking tour to get a mini history lesson before exploring for ourselves. We then pack our day full, with eating lunch at the central market, bathing in the Turkish baths, and touring the Labyrinth caves under the Hungarian Palace (which was actually legitimately spooky considering we were alone with nothing but an oil lamp making our way through a maze of underground passage ways miles beneath the bustling city of Budapest). After our little adventure underground we make our way back to the hostel with aching feet and exhausted bodies. But it’s Budapest right… the city of crazy nightlife? So with a little self-convincing we head out to this alternative bar in the famous Jewish quarter making friends with these really funny Polish guys. Without even realizing it we stay out until 3:30am and make our way home once more completely bewildered to how we even managed to stay out that late. The next day we walk the park, tour the house of terror (the actual site of both the Nazi headquarters and the communist’s secret police and torture center).  Doubting that my brain could take any more history we ambitiously head over to tour the Opera house ending with a mini concert. Straight away we rush to the parliament to tour that as well, but apparently we were just a tad bit too late (which don’t tell Bryn, but I was actually completely ok with) Three tours in one day is a bit much, even for a Pyke. We then find a cheap dinner restaurant in the tour guidebook, which doesn't end up being cheap at all and head back to the hostel to get ready for our second night out.  This time we meet this Jewish Hungarian student and his friends who take us to the secret spots around the Jewish quarter and we spend the entire night talking politics and learning about the issues with the Hungarian government. Like most post-communist democracies the name of the game is corruption and the major debates revolve around EU involvement. 

SLOVENIA: The next morning we take the early morning train to Zagreb and drop off my huge bag into a locker, simply hoping it will still be there when we come back a week later to pick it up. We spend the day touring Zagreb and stumble across the most amazing coffee shop street I have seen since being here. Literally the entire street is full of coffee shops that sell nothing but coffee and set out chairs and tables that go on as far as the eye can see, full of people with nothing to do in the middle of a Wednesday day but to chat with their friends and people watch.  Reluctantly we head back to make our night train to Ljubljana and arrive just in time to check into our disgustingly dirty but wonderfully cheap hostel and head out yet again to find another pub.  As we are walking Bryn hears noise up this random ally way, so naturally we follow the sounds and stumble across the local hangout spot. 

There we meet this French girl named Melanie and her fiancé and his friends who are celebrating her birthday. We hang out with them all night and almost commit to hopping into their car to head to Venice with them the next day.  The only problem was by the end of the night we knew there was no way any one of them would actually be in the physical state to do anything but sleep off an incredibly large hangover.

So we wake up early and make our way to Lake Bled (a local treasure and virtually undiscovered hub of paradise). This beautiful lake is surrounded by green mountains, a Castle on top of a hill, and this quaint little town with nothing really but cottages and pizzerias. The first hostel we walk into happens to be the cheapest and has total of a two guests: Sarah and Sophie (two sisters from England who we end up becoming really good friends with).  We tour the Castle because of the incredible view it offers, get free wine from the cute old monk working the winery, and then make our way down to walk the perimeter of the lake.  However just as we are about to hit the half way mark of the walk it starts to pour rain (which is crazy considering the beautiful blue skies we enjoyed earlier in the day). So Bryn, Sarah, Sophie and I run into a pub to take shelter and have a blast exchanging stories and talking about Sophie’s job working with the criminally insane and the horror stories attached to such a profession. When it stops raining we finish the walk and eat some seriously amazing pizza at the one restaurant near our hostel.

The next morning we wake up at 5am to make it back to Ljubljana in time for the excursion we signed up for. Normally I am a skeptic with excursions, but this was a different story… one word. Unbelievable.

The excursion takes us first to one of the largest underground cave networks, second only to South America I believe. Here is my one sentence attempt to describe was it was like because any more than that would almost begin to devalue the experience. So here I go. It is what I imagine C.S Lewis’s ‘man in the silver chair’ would have lived in with mist, cold darkness, vast and impressive halls of limestone and rock as if you could almost taste the enchantment but still convince yourself that the sun is just a small price to pay in exchange for such a place. Seeing the light at the end of tunnel was more disappointing than joyous for it meant that the spell would be broken and reality would have to kick back in. But thankfully God is a good God because all his creation is equally as captivating; and as you walk out the cave you enter a valley of green and trees surrounded by sheer cliffs and a waterfall.  After spending three months traveling from city to city it was a much-needed change of scenery.  So we finish our hike and get back in the car just in time to miss the rain and head to the city of Piran.  With a quick stop off to visit the stud farm of the famous Venetian white horses, we continue on to the coast of Slovenia where a peninsula was cut off by stone walls in the middle ages and a city of shoulder width streets and red roofs grew upward, capping at 5,000 inhabitants in a space that could easily be the size of a PV mansion.

We have a seafood dinner on the coast in honor of Bob Pyke with Croatia on our left and Italy on our right under the bathing sun.  We then walk around some more, get gelato, and head back into the car as I complain that three hours was definitely not long enough.  Our last stop was like stepping into a fairy tale as we head past miles and miles of green luscious hills, country cottages, and rivers to finally round the corner and see a massive castle tucked away into the face of a mountain.

Apparently the castle was home to Erasmus who killed a Hapsburg prince and fled to the mountains, building his fortress in a cave where not only could no one find him, but any one who did had no way of getting in.  So Erasmus became a local Robin Hood who stole from the rich and kept to himself. Finally the Emperors army found him and decided to starve him out, not realizing that the cave had hidden passageways that lead to a valley on the opposite side of the mountain where he smuggled in food and taunted the bewildered men by throwing fresh food at them.  Today the castle remains the sight of mid evil festivals, jousting, and costume parties for local Slovenians and Italian tourists.  O what it would have been like to go to one of those festivals- to sit and watch a joust and say “hello…it’s called lance” ahh I would have died from happiness.

Well that basically concludes our Slovenian experience. It is a country of mesmerizing beauty- although Bryn accuses me of being over dramatic, which is probably accurate; I still feel that this is one of the most beautiful countries in Europe.  But I may be proven wrong since I still haven’t been to Salzburg or Switzerland, so we’ll see.  Anyway, the last little bit of the Slovenian trip is of little importance except to say that when trying to make the only train to Pula in the Istrian peninsula of Croatia the next morning, we missed it by literally 30 seconds. After absorbing the shock of seeing the train slowly roll off without us on it, we recoup and decide what to do next. After convincing ourselves that the day is going to be a day of massive travel no matter what way we look at it, we decide to cut our losses and take the 8am train to Split and complete our epic travels with the beautiful coast of Dubrovnik.

CROATIA:

Wow here we go. This was a whirlwind. We make it to Split by mid afternoon and tour around the city, visiting the Dalmatian Palace, watching the sun set over the bay, going to dinner in this cute little diner in old town, and getting free drinks from these Ukrainian men who insisted on escorting us all the way back to the buses. We make the 1:30am bus to Dubrovnik and arrive at around 5 in the morning. So the one weird thing about Croatia is there are no hostels but rather sobes (aka rooms in random people’s houses). As soon as we step off the bus random men and women swarm us asking if we want to come with them to their house. Ahhh creepy. So we get this one woman to do half the price of anyone else and get in her car and go to this run down little Croatian house about 20 minutes from old town. But when we finally make it to old town all is forgiven because the city is truly the pearl of the Adriatic. The city was actually a separate republic for most of its history, having the resources to pay off any invaders and has the idea of ‘libertas’ (liberty) built into its very existence.  It was actually one of the first countries to accept the American rebellion as valid – little fun fact. So what is so special about the city? Good question. I spent the entire time trying to figure out what it was about it that took your breath away. Basically I came to the conclusion that the fact that every building has stone walls and red roofs and looks as if it is falling apart with little renovation despite retiling the roofs damaged by the Balkan wars, was reason enough. But that wasn’t all.  The massive stonewalls surrounding the city are completely in tact making you feel small, trapped, and intimidated while walking around the inside. But then you look up and see the beautiful blue skies, the green mountains starting to incline at the foot of the far wall, and you see the blue/green waters splashing up against the edge of the city and you’re a goner… completely in love. We did all the ‘tourist’ things within the first half of the first day (well we did start at 5 am.. but still). So we spent the rest of the time just soaking up the scenery, walking around, sitting on the rocks with waves splashing beneath, and of course eating good food and gelato. We even got to go wine tasting with a special Croatian wine and olive oil (if you want the specific names your gonna have to ask Bryn.) This section isn’t going to be long because not a lot happened in terms of tourism.  But it was great to just sit and really let the incredible views sink in and enjoy relaxing on the coast of Croatia. Later that night we got in this interesting conversation with the Croatian bar tender at the Irish pub in old town who gave us his first hand account of the Balkan wars and his view of the Serbian conflict. An incredible opportunity to learn from someone who lived through it…

The last day was simply a travel day (literally…) We went from Dubrovnik to Split, barely made our connection from Split to Zagreb (at one point we thought we were gonna have to rent a car to make it to Zagreb, which would have been an experience in of itself) but made the connection and arrived in Zagreb giving Bryn at 30 min window to get my bag and get her off to the airport. I then took a train to Budapest and then back to Prague arriving at 4 in the morning Thursday May 6^th… holy crap that was a long travel time. never ever ever again will I do that. Hahha

Well that is about it. Sorry this took so long but any less and I would have regretted not writing it down. My final thoughts are basically that I am the luckiest girl in the world! To see what we saw, to travel around with my big sis (who is probably the best travel partner because of her truly superhuman patience), to meet the people we met, and to experience a culture completely separate from our own, I am without words for how thankful I am. I thank the lord we remained safe and got to do all we wanted without any huge upsets.  I also want to thank Triage for financing the trip with their flight vouchers and Bryn’s United credit card that got her over here. What a blessing!

It was truly the most epic 21^st birthday and I will challenge any person who claims they had a better one .. haha jk. (But really, mine was the best.)

LOVE YOU BRYN! Thanks for traveling with me and making this birthday one I will never forget. 

When you have your 21st Birthday in Europe