The Vigil

"True religion is not a narrow dogma. It is not external observance. It is faith in God and living in the presence of God. It means faith in a future life, in truth...Religion is a matter of the heart" ~Ghandi

Feb 24, 2013
I slept in again today with no specific plan of what I wanted to do. When I woke up, I saw that it has pretty much stopped snowing. I decided I would venture out to do the Museum of Torture. Ivana’s restaurant was on the way, so I figured since it was almost noon, I would go get a bite to eat there.

As I logged onto my laptop to check my email, a message popped in from Kevin. He was feeling better and hoped to get out and see some of the city today. I invited him to join me and offered to point out some of the sites I’d already visited. He took me up on the offer and said he’d meet me in 30 minutes.

I started putting away my laundry (which was finally dry) and rearranging some stuff in my closet. As I pulled some stuff out of my suitcase, I came across a small relic from back home. Buried in the bottom of my suitcase was my Vigil Triangle. The Vigil is the highest award given to leaders in the branch of Boy Scouts I worked for last year. The Triangle they’d given me was a token of my nomination for this award. I will go through a formal ceremony when I get back to receive it. I had thought it would be clever to bring my triangle and take photos with it at various sites around Europe.

I decided that if I was going to do a little retracing today to show Kevin some sites, I could take the triangle along to capture those photos as well.

After meeting up with Kevin, we successfully navigated to Ivana’s restaurant. I only got a little turned around at one point, but I was actually right in front of it—it just looked different without falling snow. The cobblestone roads were still quite slippery, but the ice was turning to slush. The shoes I bought to bring to Prague were proving their worth and my feet stayed nice and dry.

Once inside the restaurant we took a seat. I asked one of the waiters if Ivana worked today and he said she’d be in at 2:00. I told him that she had recommended a seafood dish to me and he pointed one out. I’d brought my meds with me today, and taking them along with a glass of mirinda, I decided to order it.

Over lunch, Kevin and I talked about a variety of issues. He asked me my impression of the US after seeing it from the outside and I gave him my views.

“I can certainly see where the ‘ugly American’ stereotype comes from,” I said. “Americans are quite loud and I don’t think they read other cultures very well. It cracks me up how often I see or hear them yelling at people in English. I always thought that was just a joke, but they do it all the time.

“I also think Americans are very distrustful. It’s been hard for me to trust people since I got here, but I’m getting better at it and I realize how much people trust one another here. Mothers trust strangers on the tram to watch their kids get to school. The tram drivers rarely check tickets, and when they do, they seem to feel guilty for kicking someone off the car.

“I think Americans also work too much. I’ve been frustrated trying to plan trips and figure out my days. I try to cram them full so I can do as much as possible, but I realize there is something to be said for sleeping till noon and enjoying a nice lunch with friends.” I paused for a second. “I don’t think that happens enough in America.”

“Yes Americans are very frustrating,” he said. “They’re so close, but they just don’t quite get it.”

“Well I don’t know about that,” I said. “There are things I miss about back home.”

“Like what?” he asked.

“I think Americans are very compassionate. I think charity is an important part of America. I think being friendly and open are key characteristics of Americans. Smiling at strangers and saying ‘how are you’—even when we don’t always care what the answer is—we greet people all the time. I think that’s good.

“I think the fact that in America you can get whatever you’re willing to work for is a good thing. I think sometimes we are spoiled by it, but I think that is the American Dream. Take our health care. If I break my arm today, I can be in surgery within an hour. I think that’s a good thing.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “That doesn’t happen in the rest of the world. But America is becoming quite socialist.”

“I believe that now more than I did before I left,” I said. “I think America is far more socialist than most of the Europeans I’ve talked to. The government programs that we have for housing, unemployment, and now healthcare; they are all far more in depth than anything I’ve seen or heard about in Europe.”

“Oh your Obama is way more socialist than our Prime Minister,” Kevin said.

He asked me a few questions about gun control, and then gave me his view. Again, I was shocked that he was not in favor of banning guns. He, far more than I did, thought there was value in the citizens having the same weapons as the government and the military.

I decided to go a little deeper. “How about abortion?” I asked. “Is it legal in Canada?”

“Yes,” he said. “Up till 20 weeks. After 20 weeks, it has to be a pretty severe medical emergency to abort. And US?”

“I think that’s about right,” I said. “I know that about five or so years ago they pushed it back and outlawed partial birth abortions.”

He asked me my views on it and then shared his. We weren’t that different, although some of our logics were.

“I don’t religion can be used an argument for everything,” he said.

“I agree,” I said. “I think if we are truly to have ‘separation of church and state’ as the US promises to, then we can’t let religion dictate government, but government also should not dictate religion.”

“That makes sense,” he said. “My religion, Sikhism, is one of the newest world religions. It takes aspects of Hinduism, Islam, and Judaism.”

“I have heard of it,” I said.

He told me that he struggles with religion, especially given how much science has progressed in the past few years.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t think religion is as important as faith. My religion tells me that I should go to church on a regular basis, but my faith tells me that there is something to be said for lying awake at night and thanking God that I’ve had a safe trip.”

“I can be thankful for my safety without directing it to a god,” he said.

“True,” I said.

“I think so many religions have just done so many things in history that some of what they believe is archaic,” he argued.

“Well I don’t think you can judge a religion by the people who follow it,” I said. “There can be some truth to what they believe, but their actions may not always reflect that truth.”

He paused for a second. “That’s a good point.”

"I know that I've done a lot of praying before and during this trip, and I believe it's made a difference for me," I said. "The Zach I knew back in the US wouldn't jump on a bus to tour concentration camps or even think about going to a club on a Tuesday night. I was sure I'd be homesick by now, but something is giving me the strength to get through."

"Maybe you just had something in you that you never noticed before," he offered.

I thought for a minute. "I think that's probably true," I said with a half smile. I knew that he meant some sort of inner strength. I gave credit for that to the Holy Spirit.

We continued to discuss through our meal. The dish I’d ordered had pasta and shrimp covered with some green, leafy vegetable (I think the waiter called it “rocket”) that I did not recognize. It all tasted very good, although when Ivana arrived, she said it was not the same dish she recommended.

Before we left, Ivana suggested that we try dessert. I ordered one with ice cream in it, but Ivana suggested that I try the tiramisu instead. “I think it taste better,” she said. It was very good!

After we paid, we left and retraced the route I’d been taking around the city. Like tourists, we posed while the other took our photo. I got several great shots to send back home. As we left the Charles Bridge, we found the signs for the Museum of Medieval Torture. Paying the entrance fee, we went up the stairs and into the exhibit.

The museum was quite bizarre. It showcased various instruments that had been used from pre-historic times up until as late as 1972 for torturing and interrogating suspects. Most of them were from the days of witch hunts while others were employed by the church to prosecute heretics. There were tools that maimed, while others just tore flesh. A few devices were used to cook the victim alive until the point of either death or confession. One was used to saw a person in half (starting from the feet and working towards the head so that the blood remained in the brain and the person stayed conscious the whole time.)

There was an exhibit on medieval water boarding. “Oh, Americas favorite,” Kevin teased.

There just happened to be a torture device called “The Vigil.” I’ll abbreviate some of the details to keep it PG but the general idea was that a person was suspended by their arms and legs and forced to stay awake. Various instruments were used to cause the person excruciating pain until they passed out. While they slept, the tormenting would stop, but upon waking again, the torture would continue.

“How could a god let this happen?” he asked.

“Oh, we’re going to have to argue free will a different day,” I said.

After we finished the exhibit, I suggested we end our walking tour in the Jewish Quarter. We were only a few blocks away and walked up the street to see the synagogues. On our way, we passed an ornate building I’d see a few times but didn’t recognize from any of my books.

“What is that?” Kevin asked, pointing to it.

“I don’t really know,” I said. “It looks like some kind of theater, but the national theater is back by the square.”

We took more photos in the Jewish Quarter and I noticed several sites I’d missed before. It still felt very sacred and solemn in that neighborhood. I pointed out the big synagogues to Kevin. Most of them are very unassuming buildings and easy to miss.

After we’d seen the outside of the buildings, we headed back to the metro to catch the subway to the dorms. As we walked by Pinkas Synagogue, a huge chunk of ice and slush fell from the roof and landed less than an inch in front of Kevin.

We both laughed.

“Whoa! That was close!” he said.

“See,” I said. “That’s where I see God.”

“And if it had hit me?” he asked.

“I didn’t say He doesn’t have a sense of humor.”

Round the corner out of the neighborhood, we again saw the ornate, unknown building. There was a man outside selling tickets and trying to lure in tourists. I went up to him and asked, “Excuse me. What is this building?”

I was surprised at how fluently he spoke English. “Is Czech Philharmonic,” he said. “Concerts all the time and two hundred crown student discount.”

I took the man’s flyer and we headed back to the subway. When we got to Wenceslas Square, Kevin suggested we get some hot chocolate. We walked down to the end of the square, and ducked back into Trinity Café where I’d been a few days before.

The waiter was the same, and once again, they had MTV playing on a plasma screen in the corner. It looked so out of place in the otherwise decorative European room. Either way, “Bohemian Rhapsody” serenaded us as we sipped our drinks.

Along with my hot chocolate, I ordered a slice of cheese cake. Once again, like the castle, it was nothing special. It wasn’t very sweet and tasted a bit dry. The scoop of ice cream it came with however was well worth it!

We caught the 9 back to the dorms, but I continued on to the grocery store a few stops later. I’d decided it was finally time to buy school supplies and was thrilled when I was able to find them right away inside the store.

When I got back to the dorm it was starting to rain. I wrote a little for the blog before deciding I’d eat out one more night at the Italian Restaurant. I tried yet a third dish that was spaghetti, chicken, with a green pepper sauce over it. It was spicy, but tasted fantastic!

When I got home, I played with the blog a bit more and finally figured out an easier way to upload pictures to the site. It was still slower than I’d like so I only started with a few, but now I could add images to the stories I was sending home.

With another full day, I turned in for bed, ready to start school again the next morning.