December 2011
25 posts
12 tags
We were first introduced to Most Legií while riding the number 22 tram from Náměstí Míru to Královský letohrádek, where we’d walk a bit and take the X1 bus down to Sparta. Most Legií was our connection between the two sides of Prague, when the crowds at Charles Bridge seemed disastrously thick. Dubbed “our bridge” by my classmates, Most Legií holds a special place in my...
12 tags
It was exciting, we searched on the map for our names, to see what district we would become a part of for the next few months. We were scattered everywhere - Prague 6, Prague 1, Prague 10, Prague 5, even some suburbs only reachable by bus or train. I was placed in Prague 2, on the border of Prague 3, minutes from the Muzeum metro station, just around the corner from Wenceslas Square. I was ...
11 tags
Jan brought us to a part of Prague, off of Wenceslas Square, where there was a quiet, sunny garden. This part of Prague used to be a monastery, he told us, and this is where the monks would come and meditate or garden. Kitschy kiosks dotted the expanse of the place, but it really was something nice to see considering the hustle and bustle Wenceslas Square gave off. There was a gelato stand...
Security measures were tight in London, even five years after September 11th. Every national monument or museum or cafe affiliated with the government had some sort of security guard or metal detector waiting for its guests. There was a lot of frisking. Supposed to be random selections, but it was never random with me. I had black hair. I had dark, tanned skin. I had almond-shaped eyes. ...
12 tags
Innsbruck was a place where it was too cold to do anything but pop in and out of shops. I had speck for the very first time in my life - delicious, smoky, tender and a deep pinkish-red. Just a few pieces, from a shop that sold blood red sausages hanging from the windows, salamis and other cured meats behind a dimly-lit counter case. We searched for strudel amongst the bakeries, desiring that...
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Everyone else went into the back room, but I stayed and talked to the cashier. I figured, he’d be less likely to rip me off if I started a rapport. I wasn’t sure how much weed cost in Amsterdam; this was the first place we went, and it didn’t exactly look legitimate. But who knows? Maybe that’s how they all are over here. The cashier told us that we had to buy a drink...
We sat around a table that the hotel had put aside for us. I am pretty sure we had the place to ourselves; who else would stay at a mountain lodge in the Northwest of the Czech Republic, during the week, during a snow storm? The table was prepared with all kinds of traditional Czech Christmas dishes: fried, bone-in carp, seasoned potato salad, pork cutlets with purple saurkraut and bread...
15 tags
“There is a pub, and it is like a lodge, and there is this man who plays piano and he is fucking awesome.”
Sylvain was a member of the surprisingly large French community of Zilina. He was living the life; imported from France, working for a bank, beautiful apartment in the center of town, could afford a car and bottles of wine every day. He told me once that he was gay, but it...
12 tags
In Rome we celebrated our bus driver’s birthday at a pub down the street. By “down the street” I really mean a good twenty-minute walk down a steep suburban hill. This wasn’t Rome, but it was, the pub could have been in my own backyard, but it wasn’t. We drank beer and ate snack food, were there nachos? I can’t remember. It was the first time all of us had...
18 tags
I loved the Czech Republic and Slovakia because people there drank wine. People in America drank wine, sure, but they were snobs about it - “This is an aromatic blend, containing hints of peaches, oak wood, almonds, rose hips, and bullshit,” “You’re drinking SAUVIGON BLANC with a STEAK DINNER?!” “I only sip organic charcoal filtered grape juice made from the...
15 tags
It was nearly five o’clock in the morning. My phone was ringing and it was a friend of Becky’s. He never called me usually, but Becky was out, maybe something happened. I drowsily picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Kat!” Phil whispered into his phone. “Kat…get Becky?”
He was clearly drunk, but this was not a drunk dial.
I lazily walked over...
23 tags
When I Met Václav Havel
Claire and I had RSVPed as guests for an award ceremony sponsored by the Gender Studies Library of Prague. Its office was located near Frank Gehry’s Dancing House; they were honoring a French-Czech woman who had written a book about gender diversity within the two countries. It was to be a large event.
“Very important people are going to be there,” Sarah had told us.
...
10 tags
I Woke Up to This Memory Today
The day of my Grandmother’s funeral it was freezing cold and sleeting. We were the only ones in the church, five small marks in a behemoth of a cathedral I had always been afraid to go into as a child. That day, we all sat in the first pew, next to each other but with enough space between us for comfort. No one else came to the funeral, not even my Aunt Mildred, now the only living...
14 tags
“What is it with you Americans, and your obsession with lip balm?”
Marc and I looked at each other. We stopped in our tracks; our chapsticks were coincidentally pressed against our dry, cracking lips.
“What about it?” I snapped back at Peter.
“You people across the pond are so obsessed with that stuff. I don’t understand it.”
Peter was Australian. ...
11 tags
The day after I came back from Slovakia, my host mother had a Christmas party. She explained to me, in very broken English, that some families would be coming over to celebrate the holidays. I offered to help her set up. Her choice of appetizers were classy and admirable; a bowl filled with assorted olives, a shallow, rectangular plate layered with dates, dried figs and apricots, spiced...
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“I have borrowed a bike for you,” Dušan passed me the small street bike; the seat had to be adjusted for me and still I could not lean the bike on one foot without teetering over.
“Time for your tour.”
We departed from Stanica and began to ride, we rode all over the town in the dark of night. Dušan was a fantastic guide, he was silent but spoke up for important parts,...
Just read through my field journal from Stanica...
It’s so funny, how I can clearly remember some parts of my experience, and then others I have completely forgotten. There is one day I have absolutely no recollection of, even though it seemed like a pretty trying day. There is also this experience I apparently had with a really nasty homeless guy which seemed to really upset/affect me and I don’t really remember that too well...
16 tags
There was a man in Charleston who had a hot dog cart on George Street. He sold hot dogs for a dollar and you got your choice of ketchup and mustard free, or $.25 for every topping after that. He was a nice guy, he had a perfect spot, he must have made a lot of money because he really was the cheapest place to get lunch in town. And his hot dogs were awesome, he made them like how you get them...
9 tags
“Take your lady to Gordon’s Wine Bar!” I remember enthusiastically writing in a facebook message to him. I gave him all sorts of tips and suggestions, none of which I knew he would never use, but I provided him with anyway. He had asked me to give his girlfriend some reassurance about Amsterdam. I did what I could; don’t walk around the Red Light District alone, and...
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They got on the train and were sitting in the car. We had walked them; Dana was to leave in the morning. We were going to celebrate Thanksgiving, she and I, and perhaps some of our Slovak friends. But we were seeing off the boys first, making sure they were comfortable, making sure they got on the right car, making sure they hadn’t left anything behind. They had barely made it. To...
14 tags
They took us to a wine bar in the basement of a potraviny. In the basement, there were boxes of Czech wine, and two tables. One group occupied a table, and we had the other. It was a bit awkward, actually, but we overcame that once the wine began to flow. Stepan told us grandiose stories, Petr kept him in Czech. Nate couldn’t beer, he didn’t like wine, so he drank rum. We talked,...
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One evening they closed the cafe and invited a few of us to play poker and drink wine after hours. Tom, Betsy, myself and perhaps someone else were the only ones who stayed, maybe Julie too? It was one of the last nights we were to be in Prague, and it was bittersweet. The cafe boys set out cards on the table, we drank drinks made with milk and rum - the Drunken Sheep, wasn’t that what it...
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I sat on the stairway in front of the Communist Memorial. I was early for my group’s meeting but I didn’t mind; the day was warm and fair, the sun sitting directly above me. My cheeks were sunning and I was comfortable. I opened my laptop to see if the globalization of public wifi had set in on the city. It hadn’t. I was grateful. Instead, I saw behind me the parade of...
There was a man I was afraid of in my neighborhood. He was very tall, and had long, greasy hair, but the hairline was receded so that he was mainly bald on top. He wore the same clothes every time I saw him - a bleached-out denim jacket with worn bootcut jeans or navy cordoroys. He used to lurk around the pub that was near my flat, and once, I saw him pacing back and forth on the corner of...
11 tags
In Prague, everything is gold and amber. Walking down Italská ulice towards my flat from the Náměstí Míru metro station, all I saw was gold. The streets were black, the buildings blacker, but the lights that guided my path were soft, buzzing, and somber orange. There was a certain time of night when the cars turned off and winter’s breath took over, wind softly humming in my ear as I...