Hail Mary

Feb 16, 2013 (continued)
The Czech Republic is ranked a second the most agnostic country in the world. Of those that are religious, Catholicism is the most popular religion. Even so, according to the last census, more people identified as “Jedi knights” than identified as “catholic.” (This is a true fact, Samuel showed me an article.)

It’s interesting to me how a city can have so many ornate churches and so many people who don’t use them. This is of course due to the long period of communism during which religion was outlawed. Even so, in the past 20 years, there is not a world religion that has gotten a major footing back in the Czech Republic.

On the tram ride down, we whizzed by dozens of churches, including the one that I wanted to tour. As the green dome of St. Nicholas Church faded behind the tram, I realized I’m missed my stop. I got off at the next stop and waited for a 22 to come going the other way so I could go back.

As I stood on the platform of the station, I realized how wobbly my legs were. I had been walking a lot more these past few days than I regularly walked at home. The cimb up and down the cathedral tower no doubt had added to the fatigue. But once again, I found that I liked the feeling. It made me feel like I was staying busy and accomplishing something.

There was a couple holding a map and staring at the schedule at the station. I didn’t recognize the language they were speaking (I later would guess it was probably German.) I was still trying to blend it, straight-faced and all—although my eyes frequently darted around taking in the scenery. At one point, the man made eye contact with me and said in a very heavy accent, “English?”

I nodded. He moved over towards me along with his wife and they showed me their map. “We trying to get to castle,” he said. “How to do that?”

“You need to take tram 22,” I said. I tried to keep my voice soft so I didn’t stand out, but not condescending as I’d witnessed so many people do.

“What is the stop?” he asked.

“The tram will go on two big curves as it goes up the hill. When it gets to the top, the castle is the second stop. I can’t pronounce it, because I don’t speak Czech,” I said.

“You foreigner?” he asked.

“I am,” I said. At that point I noticed he had a pin of the Austrian flag.

“Where you from?”

“America,” I said.

“Oh!” he said, acting very surprised. “You do not act American.”

Success!!!

The tram came and we wished each other luck. I got off back at the stop I needed. The problem was, the church was visible from the station, but it was not physically at the station. This clearly confused other tourists who immediately pulled out maps and started pestering locals for directions. I knew from the view I’d had at the top of the tower that the front entrance had gray, marble steps. Walking towards the green dome, I rounded a few corners and, in no time, I found them.

As I went into the church, I was greeted by a nun who asked me for 35 koruna to enter the church. I paid her and thanked her. Holding out my camera I asked, “Are pictures ok? She nodded.

Turning around, I was breath taken (a sensation I seemed to be experiencing a lot lately.) The entire room was painted with vivid, life like frescos and adorned with solid gold statues.  I hate to compare the church to the cathedral, because they were so different. I loved the both for such different reasons. The stained glass and magnificent size of St. Vitus had been astounding. St. Nicholas’ Church didn’t have any stained glass. That said, the paintings and gold were unlike anything I’d ever seen. They decorated, the ceiling, each of the shrines, all of the walls, and even the banisters. They were so lifelike; the characters seemed as they could fall from the ceiling and strike up a conversation with the tourists mulling about.

There were also huge marble statues of saints—easily a few stories tall—carved into the pillars toward the front of the room. The organ again was mangificant. But the solid gold crosses and cherubs were absolutely mindblowing.

I walked over to one shrine and tried to learn more about what I was seeing. The signs were all in Czech. This shrine however had one sign in Spanish. I haven’t studied Spanish in almost two years, but I'd taken three years of it in high school. I was by no means fluent (I always better listening to or reading it than I did speaking it.)

As I studied the placard in front of the kneeler, I recognized words like“Dios” as “God” and “Maria” as “Mary.” Taking it line by line, I tried piecing it together.

Dios te salve María, llena eres de gracia…all I could pick out was “God,” “Mary,” and “full of” something.
Nuestro Senor es contigo…”Our master is with you.”

Bendita tu eres todas las mujeres…you are something “among all women.”

y bendito el fruto de tu vientre, Jesús…and something about “the fruit of Jesus.”

Santa María, Madre de Dios… “Holy Mary, mother of God” (that one was easier)

rezar por los pecadores somos...”Pray for the sinners”

ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte…”Now and in the hour of our death.”

That was when it hit me! Mary! God! Full of Gracia! I was reading the Hail Mary in Spanish.

After my revelation, I smiled a little, and then headed over to look at the altar. It was amazing as well. I can’t even describe all the detail. The paintings surrounded gold and wooden relics. There were statues of guards fending evil away from the altar. There were seven lit candles that flickered under their watch. The actual cross was tiny—probably only a little larger than a foot tall—but heavily ornamented and surrounded by treasures.

I asked a Korean woman to take a photo of me. She spoke broken English and agreed, but then called her husband over to take it. This couple was certainly the most meticulous in setting up the shot. He toook so many frames that I started to worry he was working up a schtick to run off with my camera. He did give it back eventually, and asked me to take one of them. They didn’t like the first couple that I took, so we tried a few times.

After I’d seen each of the shrines nearly a dozen times, sat in the pews, and photographed every nook and cranny I could find, I headed for the doors. I noticed they had a mass schedule listed. They only offered mass in Czech at this church, but they suggested two others—St. Joesph and St. Thomas—that had an English mass on Sundays. I made a note of this and decided that at some point I would check into it.

While waiting for the tram, there was another stand selling that same sweet bread roasted over charcoals. I bought one, and ate it as I waited for the 22. When the tram came, I got on, and transferring to the 9, made my way home.

I had a lot of stuff to do back at the dorm tonight. In addition to making dinner (which was once again pasta) I needed to start some laundry. To do laundry, we have to sign up for a two hour window and get a key to the laundry room. The machines are not very big, although I fit all my dark clothes into the first load. The cycle actually takes close to two hours, so this was going to be a slow (and expensive) process—it costs 25 koruna per 2 hours.

When the laundry was done, there was no dryer, so I borrowed a drying rack from the front desk and spread my clothes out on it in my room. At that point, I ate dinner, uploaded some posts to the WiFi, and collapsed into bed, absolutely exhausted.

Dios te salve María, llena eres de gracia.

Nuestro Senor es contigo

Bendita tu eres todas las mujeres

y bendito el fruto de tu vientre, Jesús

Santa María, Madre de Dios,

rezar por los pecadores somos,

ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte.

Amen