The Visitor (Part 2)

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” ~Matthew 7:7

March 19, 2013 (continued)

After we’d finished eating, the waiter took our plates and tried to convince us to share a fondue. Ryan had to get going so we decided to head out. The waiter was quite disappointed and remained firm that we should get the dessert. Ryan said that the two of us could stay and enjoy it, but Keiko insisted we were ready to pay.

“Do you want to go into the square and see the Easter festival?” I asked.

“I do,” she said, “but you guys don’t have to come. I don’t want you to feel like you have to tour Grandma Keiko around Prague.”

“I’d love to come, but I am meeting some people,” Ryan said.

“I don’t mind,” I said. “I am free all night and I actually want to get over there to see the Easter festival before I start traveling outside of Prague.”

“Ok,” she said. “Oh shoot! I forgot my rolling bag!” Ryan went back to get it, while I joked that the university would be mad if she lost all the secret files.

Keiko paid at the bar and Ryan and I thanked her for dinner. Outside, Ryan gave her a hug goodbye, and Keiko and I headed into town.

“Are you sure you want to come?” she asked.

“I do,” I said. “It’s nice having a visitor from back home.” She laughed.

As we walked along the streets, she recognized the landmarks as we approached. It was fun being with a fellow American, but also someone who was used to the city and captivated by the culture. When we entered the square we walked around looking at the booths. Surprisingly, many of them were starting to close. For the city that seems to stay open till 11 or 12 each night, these vendors apparently didn’t.

“When I was here last time, I was looking at that green statue,” Keiko said, pointing at the Jan Hus memorial. “Someone came up and said, ‘you know they burned him at the stake, right?’ I can’t believe people actually did that to each other.”

“I know,” I said. “I visited the museum of torture here in Prague, and the things people came up with were terrifying.”

“I read an article one time that the worst torture that had been invented was called the screaming bull,” she said. “It was giant metal bull that was hollow and they would put people in it, then hang it over the fire until it was red hot. The people would scream from the heat—hence the name screaming bull—but eventually they would suffocate and then roast alive.”

“It’s terrifying!” I said. “This whole museum talked about different ways that people maimed, stabbed, bled, and burned each other.”

“Is not so much different from today,” she said. “Sometimes now we just use mental torture. When I taught linguistics I heard so many stories or pain from people around the world.”

“You taught linguistics?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Not in a university, but my bachelor’s degree is in linguistics so I helped people learn English and do corrective speech.”

I was a little taken back. “How did you get from linguistics to business?”

She shrugged. “I just didn’t want to do linguistics anymore. But I didn’t go straight to business. My master’s was in psychology. I became a therapist.”

“Really?” I said, totally shocked.

“Yep,” she said. “But I didn’t like listening to people’s problems all the time. So when I did my PhD, I changed to Management.”

I chuckled a little. “It’s funny,” I said. “Even in Prague—the big agnostic culture that it is—I find myself thinking about going to seminary actually. I don’t know why, but it’s the one career that has always kind of stayed on my radar.”

“Oh!” she said. “If I could have a do over, I would have become a pastor.”

“Really!?!” Before I’d been shocked. Now I felt like I was talking to a whole different person.

“Yes,” she said. “It is one of my regrets. I think it’s what I was trying to do all along. I wanted to help people and be part of figuring out life with them. Linguistics didn’t help me do that. Psychology wasn’t enough. Management has really shown me that leadership can be used not only to make money but to help lead people through their problems. I think a pastor with a business degree could go far.”

As we walked back towards Wenceslas Square, Keiko poked her head in a few jewelry stores. She wanted to buy some souvenirs for some friends back home, but again, everything was starting to close. I on the other hand felt dumbstruck. How could I have spent so much time with Keiko last semester and not learned any of this about her? At the same time, I didn’t think I could ask for a more perfect mentor. Rather I chose to really pursue business and management, or deviate out to try something in religion, she had knowledge of both fields (she even knew how to publish a book if and when I decided to do so!)

“Everything is closing,” she said.

“Will you have time to get back down here tomorrow?” I asked.

“Yes, I think so,” she said.

As we walked up Wenceslas square towards the tram stop, we looked in a few more of the booths. “I’ve eaten a ton of chocolate since I’ve been here,” I said.

“Really?” she smiled. “Have you had those Czech chocolate wafers yet?”

“Not yet,” I said. “I’ve seen them in the market and know that I need to try them.”

“They are good souvenir and gift,” she said.

As we passed one of the Thai massage parlors, Keiko stopped to look in the widow. I don’t know if I’ve described it before, but these parlors are quite a spectacle. Most of them have giant tanks of water in the windows with little guppy bait fish swimming about. People (tourists) pay to sit with their feet in the water and let the little fish eat the dead skin off their heels.

“I don’t know if I would do that,” Kieko said. “It’s funny to look at but not for me.”

“I think it’s a little weird personally,” I said. “It’s not the fish that would bother me; it’s whatever else might be in that water.”

“Exactly!” she said. “As a SCUBA diver—well you are a SCUBA diver so you know—fish are not bad. The bacteria from other people’s feet are bad.”

When we got to the tram station, Keiko celebrated a little. “I knew where I was going the whole time!” she said. Pointing up by the museum she added, “And, there is a very good chocolate shop right up there.”

“I’ll have to check it out,” I said.

“You want to go there now?” she offered.

“If you need to get back, we can head back,” I said. “I don’t want to keep you if you have things to do.”

“No, it’s okay!” she said. “I want to go there too.”

We walked up to the chocolate shop. As we did, we passed a book store. “I love books,” I told her. “One of the biggest challenges I had coming over here was picking which books to bring. And I’ve bought a few more since I got here. I just bought Anne Frank’s diary so I can read it before I go to Amsterdam.”

Kieko looked at me for a second. “How did you turn out like this?” she asked. “What makes you act so…so mature…so much like…like an older person?”

I laughed. It seemed to be the million dollar question everyone was asking me these days.

“I give my parents the credit,” I said. “I think they did a lot of things right and helped make me who I am.”

She smiled. “That makes me happy,“ she said. “They did a very good job and you are right to thank them.”

When we got up by the museum, Keiko got very excited. “Look at the bunnies!” she said as we spotted Easter chocolates in the window. I have to say, the chocolate rabbits were the most incredible ones I’d ever seen. They looked like meticulous works of art decoratively carved from sweet cocoa.

Inside, there were more amazing Easter treats. In addition to bunnies, there were white chocolate chicks as well as chocolate carrots that had been dyed orange. Both were incredibly life like. They also sold the famous Czech chocolate wafers, but Keiko told me not to buy them here because the outside markets would have a better price.

In the end, I bought some truffles shaped like Easter eggs, and she bought a few treats to take home to friends. As we left the shop she said, “Did I tell you I am teaching a philosophy class this semester?”

“No,” I said. “What is it on?”

“The class is called ‘Coming of Age’ and they told me could be about whatever I want,” she said. “So there is where I can talk more about ethical dilemmas and right and wrong. It even lets me talk a little about God and what I believe. I can’t do that in business classes because people think there is no room for God in business. If talking about ethics makes me a socialist, can you imagine what talking about religion would make me?”

“I really don’t know how I feel about the pastor idea,” I told her.

“I really think it is perfect job for people interested in management,” she said. “It lets you use leadership skills to help solve the problems of the universe.”

 “I hadn’t quite thought about it that way,” I said as we got on the 9. It was crowded and the jostling people separated us a bit. A young man gave up his seat for Keiko to sit down, but when she declined another woman took it, freeing space for us to continue chatting.

“In high school, I actually thought I wanted to be a doctor,” I told her. “I now realize I wanted to go to med school more than I wanted to practice medicine. Studying it interests me, but actually doing the job isn’t that interesting.”

“I did a lot of research on doctors for my book,” she said. “The way doctors process things and feel empathy is interesting. They have to turn it off for things like giving shots and doing surgery, and then they turn it back on to give patients test results or ask questions. It is a good job to help people, but a very tiring job for the people doing the helping.”

“It was actually Boy Scouts that got me thinking about business,” I said. “I enjoyed the leadership stuff and decided I wanted to study it.” I paused, realizing the reality as I spoke the words. “I love leadership, I  just can’t see myself doing business for the rest of my life.”

“You can always make changes,” she said. “Try lots of different things. I did. I still believe you will change the world.”

I smiled. “Well thank you!”

“Did I ever tell you I learned to speak English from missionaries in Japan?”

“No,” I said, “you didn’t.”

“They would teach me things and then let me read the scriptures in chapel services. They said I read them with lots of love in my heart.”

I smiled again.

“It helped me a lot when I came to America. I was eighteen when I came over. I think growing up in two different cultures and travelling when I was younger gave me the skills to see the world not as black and white, but as lots of discussions and dilemmas. Everyone wants to know who is right and who is wrong, but when you deal with people, you deal in shades of gray.”

It was funny. That was so much the realization I was having here in Prague. The world isn’t as black and white as I’d pictured it. French people aren’t all snobs. Chinese people aren’t all shy. German people aren’t all punctual. Indian people aren’t all serious. We aren’t all the same, but we also aren’t all that different either. I don’t know how to describe it but we are some shade of gray in the middle.

“I really do believe there is more to our world than meets the eye,” Keiko continued. “I think that whatever God or force is in the universe is very passionately communicating with us. Sometimes it is subtle, other times, it is obvious.”

“I can relate to that,” I said, sensing a bit of irony to this conversation.

“I remember the day my father died. I landed in Japan and I wanted to check my email at one of those kiosks in the airport. I put my credit card in, and it didn’t connect. I tried the next kiosk, and it didn’t connect. After the third one failed, I left to go the hospital. By the time I got there, my father had passed away just five minutes earlier,” she paused for a minute. “I don’t know if it would have made a difference, but maybe the universe was telling me when that first kiosk failed that I needed to go to be with my father.”

When we got to Keiko’s tram stop, she gave me a hug.

“Thank you for not thinking I am mentally unstable for saying these things about the universe,” she said.

“Not at all,” I said. “I enjoyed seeing you. I’ll keep in touch on email.”

“Ok,” she said. “Have a good trip.”

And with that, she got off the tram.

I rode back to the dorm, feeling like my mind was going a million miles an hour. This evening had gone so differently from how I expected. I had so many ideas going through my head about the future—my trip, my education, and my career. I knew that I didn’t need to sort them all out tonight, but it gave a new energy to my thought processes.

Back in the room, I immediately started blogging about the conversation to try and capture as much as I could remember. As I did, I munched on my Easter truffles (which were great but had some of the most bizarre fillings I’ve tasted—Forrest Gump quote anyone???)

It was so nice to see someone from back home. In some ways, it felt like a breath of air from the high adrenaline experience of playing tourist/studying/being abroad. The conversation sparked so many ideas for me, I again feel blessed to have Keiko as my graduation advisor.

And with yet again another renewed sense of adventure…I look forward to Thibaut’s birthday party tomorrow and the trip I will take with Ivana this weekend!