Out Of The Rubble

March 2, 2013--Dresden (continued)
As we left the platform, we took an escalator down below and into the center of the station. The first thing we saw as we came into the center, was a giant KFC. The second thing we saw was a Burger King. The entire room actually was filled with fast food brands—all of them American names. The room itself though was quite interesting. It had a big glass dome roof, and intriguing pillars all around. In the center was a place to exchange currency.

Lad’ka led us over to a map and showed us the historical district we’d be going to see. She pointed us towards a door that was back the way we had come, and we headed out. “I hope is right way,” she said.

“I need to get some Euros,” I said, before we were out of the main room.

“I have some,” Thibaut said. Lee and Leo said they did too.

“You can use exchange,” Lad’ka said.

“I’d like to use an ATM,” I said. The only koruna I had was in big bills and I didn’t want all of it back in Euros, not to mention I was a little leery on the rate I would receive.

We found an ATM on the back side of the exchange station. “How much should I take out?” I asked.

“I have 50 Euros,” Lad’ka said. “Is absolutely enough.”

I withdrew 50. It was a funny looking bill, much smaller than US or Czech money. It was sort of an orange color and really did look like Monopoly money.

As we left the station, I was immediately taken back by how westernized everything looked. It looked like a strip mall from back in the US. With the exception of a few empty vender carts in the middle of the street, I’d have thought I was back in the states. The skyscrapers were large overhead. The brands were Nike, Abercrombie, and Hollister. While the mannequins in the window were far more anatomically correct than any I’d seen back home, everything else looked pretty much the same. There wasn’t anyone else out or about anywhere. I’m sure if you listened really close, you could hear all the way back to Prague.

We saw a cart with some maps on it, and Lee picked one up. It turned out to be a map for actual tour given by a particular agency, but it was a starting place to get oriented. We needed to walk down to the information office and then turn right to find the square.  As we got further down, we started seeing more of the historic looking buildings through the streets off to the right. We were tempted to turn towards them at one point, but as we did, Lad’ka saw the information office just one more block up.

As we entered the square, we started to see cobblestones once again. What struck me as we looked around the square was not the mall and the clock towers juxtaposed next to each other, but the ominous silence. It felt just like Terezin had, except the company of the group made it less creepy.

Lad’ka pointed us over towards a massive building with a large dome.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Is church,” she said. “It was completely destroyed in World War. They rebuild it from…from…I do not know the word.”

“Rubble?” I offered.

“Yes!” she said. “They rebuild it from the rubble.”

“Like a giant puzzle,” I joked.

She laughed. “Yes. It’s a puzzle church.”

We approached the old building, taking pictures as we did. The architecture was beautiful with beautiful stone carvings and wooden doors on each side of the building. Outside of the church was a large statue of Martin Luther.

“Was he important in this city?” Thibaut asked as we photographed it.

“I don’t think so,” I said, but I didn’t know. We later learned that he had preached in Dresden although I can’t find any evidence that the events held any historical significance specifically.

As we walked around the church, we found a sign stating that the church itself did not open until 10:00. It was only a little after 9:00. The air was frigid, and I think we all silently moaned at the idea of staying out in the cold. Surprisingly, aside from my chilled fingers, I felt ok.

We walked down the way a little towards a building that Lad’ka told us was the art academy. We came upon another abstract statue, this one of a naked man curled in a ball weeping. There were two dates on it separated by a hyphen so I assume it was some sort of memorial. All of the signs here were now in German so we weren’t positive on anything.

Next to the institute, we walked up an impressive looking staircase that gave a great view of the city. Again, the historic buildings juxtaposed next to modern structures made it feel so different from back in Prague. It was beautiful in a way. It made the culture jump out more than just the architecture.

Walking along the wall—which we now stood on top of—we saw a variety of unique gardens and fountains. There was a sign—in English—that described a museum to tour the old Dresden fort. It too did not open until 10:00.

“Apparently Dresden is closed in the morning,” I said. The others chuckled in agreement.

I was taking photos of everything. Every building, bridge, tree...even every cobblestone seemed to make its way into my camera. “I feel like one of those crazy American tourists that I make fun of,” I told Lad’ka.

“No,” she said. “You are now a crazy European tourist.” It made me laugh, but it also made me smile a bit. In some way, it made me feel like I fit in. I’d made the cut, and Europe approved of having me.

But my American personality still bubbled to the top. The group was quiet and mulling around taking photos. Even as I type it I feel guilty admitting it, but just being in the city wasn’t enough; I wanted to do something. I suppose I could call it “Edgy American Syndrome” because it is definitely a product of our highly productive culture, but I was antsy.

“What do we want to do?” I asked the group.

There was a quiet pause for a few seconds as we gathered together and exchanged glances.

“Get warm,” Lee said. Everyone agreed.

“Maybe we find a café,” Lad’ka said.

We retraced our steps back along the wall, down the stairs, passed the academy, and towards the church. We found a café right next to the church and stepped inside. I ordered a hot chocolate, Lad’ka got tea, thibaut coffee, and Lee and Leo both got espresso. The hot chocolate was awesome, but we all were more interested in the small mints that came with the drinks. We debated rather they were candy or mints, before we decided to eat them. They were definitely more like chocolate, but with kind of a crispy center.

“Now do you guys speak English back home?” I asked.

“It’s all we speak,” Lee said.

“No, I don’t speak it at home,” Leo said.

“We speak French back home,” Thibaut said. “I like French, but I want to speak English here.”

“I wish I knew more languages,” I said. “I took Spanish, but I definitely understand it better than I can speak it.”

“Do you know German?” Thibaut asked Lad’ka.

She nodded. Everyone laughed and thanked her for being our tour guide.

When the waitress came to bring us our bill, it was very similar to paying in Prague. The waitress told us each how much it would be and we paid her directly. Since I only had the 50 Euro note, and my drink was only 2.50, Thibaut loaned me some money until I could get some smaller change.

By that time, it was 10:15. We went back outside and saw that there were more people starting to come out and about. It was still freezing, but the sun was starting to burn through the clouds.

“Shall we go see the church?” Thibaut asked.

“Sounds good to me,” I said.

“We can get out of the cold,” Lad’ka said shivering.

“When weather is bad, go in a church,” Thibaut joked.

“It’s worked for thousands of years,” I added, speaking a bit more metaphorically.

As we walked up the stairs and into the building, there was a sign by the door that said, “You are entering a House of God, please act accordingly.” Lad’ka pointed it out to me and shook a finger at me. Then she smiled and we laughed.

The church was called Church of Our Lady and had originally been built in the 11^th century. During World War II, when Dresden was heavily bombed, fires consumed the building, causing it to collapse from within. Only one wall and one small archway were left standing. After the war, leadership in Eastern Germany decided to leave the rubble of the church in place as a memorial to the war. After the Berlin Wall collapsed, a reconstruction project was launched to rebuild the church. The wall and archway were built into the new building, along with many other fragments of rubble that could be restored. The exterior was completed in 2004, and the interior in 2005, with a rededication service held on October 30, 2005.

 “I think churches are always cold,” Lad’ka said. As she said it, we entered the sanctuary and were hit by a gust of warm air. We looked at each other with wide eyes.

“Not this church,” I said with a smile.

“I think they are cold because they are churches,” she said. I didn’t quite understand what she meant and my face must have given me away. “Do you believe in God?” she asked.

“I do,” I said.

“Oh,” she said looking up, “I don’t.”

The inside of the church was beautiful. Not only was the air warm, but the colors of the room were vibrant pastel colors. Most of the walls and ceilings were yellow, with peach trim and sky blue highlights. There were a few lavender colored banners, wrapped around golden crosses  and marble statues. The room felt safe and cozy.

Lee and Leo walked around the room taking photos of everything, while Thibaut took a few pictures himself. I was snapping photos in all directions with Lad’ka following close behind me. There was a man in a collar standing up by the altar. He was older and balding and speaking German to a group of tourists.

“Is this a Catholic Church or a Christian one?” Thibaut asked me as we met near the front.

I chuckled a little. “In the US, we consider Catholics to be Christians. We would separate churches by Catholic and Protestant.”

“Yes,” he said. “That is what I meant.”

“I’m guessing this is a Catholic church based on the number of statues,” I said. “Protestant churches would probably just have a few crosses and maybe a Jesus statue, but not this many different saints.”

“I don’t know,” Lee said, who was now standing next to me. “There is no statue of Mother Mary.” He told us he had gone to Christian private schools before.

“The sign outside said something about a crypt,” I said.  Seeing a door off to the side  that people were flowing in and out of, I suggested we go try to find it.

As we walked through the door, there was a desk with two women selling tickets. It looked like the basement required admission. Lad’ka, Thibaut, and I turned back, but we realized that Lee and Leo had gone downstairs.  As we peaked back into the entry way with the two women, we realized the tickets were for a different tour. The basement was free. As Thibaut, Lad’ka, and I shrugged at each other, we headed downstairs.

As we walked down the stairs, we saw a sign that said photography was not allowed. This is a true shame because the two chambers under church were even more impressive and amazing than the sanctuary up above. The first, was a gallery outlining the history of the churches rebuild. The church had been a catholic church, but following the reformation, became a Lutheran church. It is now the site of a Protestant festival every October 31. The church had been remodeled several times before its collapse in order to expand for the growing congregation. There had also been a graveyard which was destroyed in the bombing of WWII.

The next chamber was the worship room. The ceiling, walls, and floor of the corridor were like that of a cave or mineshaft. In the center of the worship room was a large hollowed out boulder with a cement cross suspended over it. Five rows of chairs formed a circle around the rock. There were candles scattered around the room for light (although there was some electric lighting as well.) Off to the various sides of the room were tunnels and niches, each with different shrine-like displays. One had a few gravestones that had been retrieved from the rubble. It was dedicated to the history of the church and its leadership. Another was a dark prayer room with a candle and tablet of the 10 commandments in the center. Lad’ka and I found one staircase that was completely dark. She didn’t want to go up it, and I wasn’t sure tourists were even allowed to enter. When  Thibaut joined us, he and I decided to take a look. There weren’t any lights as we climbed the steps, but at the top was a look down into the crypt. It was beautifully carved and sculpted from red bricks. We went back down to get Lad’ka and eventually convinced her to come see it. Soon, Lee and Leo joined us with a flashlight app on Lee’s phone.

“Well that ruins the mood,” I said. We laughed once again.

Lad’ka and I sat in the front row of chairs while the others wandered around some more. Lee and Leo came over to join us.

“Is that like a well to throw coins in?” Lee asked, pointing at the hollow boulder.

“I think it’s actually a baptismal font,” I said.

“Oh,” he said a little embarrassed. “Coins would not be good.”

“What was up those stairs?” I said, pointing to the staircase they had just descended.

“Modern art,” Lee said with air quotes around the words. I went to take a peek. At the top were two sculptures called “Destruksion” and “Construksion.” The first looked like a pile of blocks that had tumbled over. The second was the same pile of blocks arranged into what looked like a tower from a game of Jenga. I smiled. It totally captured not only the story of this church, but the story of humanity: rising from rubble to be successful once again.

I have to say, if I was ever tempted to test German authority and break the law, it was in that worship room. It was so surreal to see what looked like some sort of hidden temple or secret chamber buried underneath the city of Dresden. It felt so safe and so sacred. It was certainly the most spiritual place I had visited so far.

Starlight Express

"The use of traveling is to regulate imagination by reality, and instead of thinking how things may be, to see them as they are.”~ Samuel Johnson

March 2, 2013--Dresden

I didn’t hear my alarm the first time it went off at 4:45. I must have snoozed it in my sleep, because when it blared at 4:50, it startled me. Not wanting to be late, I got up right away. My laundry was mostly dry and I threw on a sweater and a pair of jeans. I debated which jacket to take and considered turning on my laptop to check the weather. I decided to just wear my fleece, hoping it would be warm enough. Grabbing my passport and my money, I headed out.

On my way out of the dorm, I grabbed two granola bars: one plain, and one chocolate banana. I ate them in lobby while I waited for the others.

In the lobby, I ran into my roommate Ante and his friend at the vending machines. They were just getting back from the pubs. I chatted with them for a bit and then sat at the bench eating my granola bars. Thibaut came out with his roommate who introduced himself as Leo. A few seconds later, we were joined by his second roommate.

“I’m Zach,” I said.

“Call me Lee,” he said.

A little after 5:15, Lad’ka came to the door. It was locked, so we went outside to meet her.  When I stepped outside, I noticed for the first time how dark it was. I guess I hadn’t expected it to be real bright out at 5:15am, but I hadn’t thought it would still be the middle of the night.

 “Did you sleep fast?” I asked Lad’ka as we started to walk to the tram.

“No,” she said with a sigh. “I slept very slow. I look at the clock every hour to see how much more sleep I have left.”

“You are Lad’ka?” Thibaut said. I realized I had been rude in not introducing her.

“Yes,” she said. Leo and Lee also introduced themselves. “Everyone has passport?” she asked.

“I don’t,” Lee said. “Do I need it?”

“No you don’t need it for Germany,” Thibaut said.

“Yes, you should take it,” Lad’ka said.

“If we have any issues, you might want to have it,” I pointed out.

“Really?” Thibaut said. “I can just say I am from France and show citizenship card.”

Lee ran back to the room to get his passport. “Hurry,” Lad’ka said. “The tram is in 10 minutes and if we miss it, there is no other one for twenty minutes.”

As we waited, I looked around the darkness of the courtyard. As my gaze shifted skyward, I saw something that made me smile: The Big Dipper. It was the first time I’d seen stars since I’d gotten to Europe. The other nights had all been cloudy and overcast. I smiled realizing that the sky looked the same. These were the same stars I’d looked at a million times before. I’d identified them while camping in the woods, and looked at them out of pure joy when walking around town back home.

When Lee came back a few short minutes later, we walked over to the tram. As we waited for the 9 to come, I asked, “Did you guys check what the weather is supposed to be like today in Dresden?”

“I think it is supposed to be between one and three degrees,” Thibaut said.

“One and three?” I said, realizing I’d picked the wrong jacket.

“Yes,” he said. “But that’s Celsius. I’m not sure what it is Fahrenheit.”

I had a converter on my iPod but I didn’t’ want to dig it out of my pocket. I figured 1-3 degrees was cold regardless of what system you used.

“Zach, you do not have a bag?” Thibaut noticed.

“No, I’m trying to travel light. I have my money, my camera, and my passport,” I said as I pointing to the pockets that housed each item. That was when I noticed that Lee and Leo each had back packs, Thibaut had a small satchel, and Lad’ka had her purse.

We caught the 9 when it came. It felt good to get out of the cold, but that was when I realized that the day ahead of me would probably be a chilly one. We rode the tram to the central train station, and hopped off.

“How long have you been in Prague?” Leo asked me as we walked into the station.

“I left home on the 8^th and got here on the 9^th,” I said.

“Oh,” he replied. “How long was your flight?”

I thought about it for a minute. “The flight to London was about seven hours, then I was there for five hours, and the flight to Prague was, like, three hours…I think.” I said. “So, like, nine or ten hours in the air, but on the road for about fifteen hours…I think.” It suddenly felt like a long time ago. Looking at Lad’ka I said, “but I’ve been here for three weeks and they haven’t kicked me out yet!”

 “No, not yet,” she laughed.

“Aw man!” Leo said. “Were you so jet lagged when you got here?”

I laughed. “Yes! I was. For two weeks I was tired all the time. It would feel like it should be morning when it wasn’t and I’d wake up in the middle of the night. It was so rough.”

As we walked into the station, I realized I’d been here a few times with Ivana. It looked more like a mall than a train station though. Lad’ka led us to the back, through the sliding glass doors, and into the ticket office.

At the counter, Lad’ka spoke in Czech with the woman behind the desk. They were clearly arguing about something and it didn’t seem to be going well. We all watched and exchanged nervous smiles.

“Ok,” Lad’ka said, turning suddenly towards us. “Is 850 crowns.”

That was more than we had expected, but still only $45 USD. After we’d paid, Lad’ka explained that to get the discount you had to book online. Here, six tickets were a group. The woman was kind though and had showed us that it was 30 crowns cheaper if we bought a sixth ticket (split the cost between the group) than if we only purchased five full fare tickets.

After we bought our tickets, we went back out through the glass sliding doors of the ticket office, and up the escalator to the waiting area. There were restaurants around and Lad’ka suggested we get something to eat. Despite having the two granola bars in the lobby, I agreed with her.

We went in a little café that was sort of Starbucks-esque. There were pastries in a glass case, and a barista making drinks behind the counter. There was a large machine that was automatically slicing and juicing oranges. Many of the pastries and treats appeared to contain parts of oranges (either the fruit, the peel, or the juice) as one or two of the main ingredients.

I ordered a Vienna hot chocolate to drink, and an orange yogurt to eat. The hot chocolate was definitely one of the best that I have had. It had various layers of different flavors of foam in it, and was smooth and rich. I initially couldn’t find a lid for it, and looked like a bit of a foolish tourist stumbling around through the line to get to them. After trying a few that were too small and smearing whipped cream all over my hand, I got the right size and rejoined the group.

“Where are you guys from?” I asked to clarify.

“Singapore,” Lee said.

“Hong Kong,” Leo said.

“Very cool,” I said and told them where I was from. “Are you both third years?” They exchanged glances. “At the university,” I clarified. “Is this your third year.”

“We follow the US system,” they said.

“Oh, so Juniors then?” I said.

“Yea,” they said. When they asked about me, I admitted my youth.

The orange yogurt was good. There were tiny chunks of orange on the top, with a layer of yellow, orange flavored yogurt below. That was followed by a layer of vanilla yogurt, on top of more slices of orange that were in kind of a jello-like preservative. It was very sweet and tasty. Leo and Lee ate scones, with Leo taking the regular flavored and Lee eating a chocolate one.

We were all a little tired and conversation lagged. As we finished eating, we asked Lad’ka where to go. “Nowhere,” she said.

I was confused. “Nowhere?”

She smiled and shook her head. I accepted that and waited watching my watch. As our 6:31 departure time ticked closer and closer I began getting antsy. “What time do we board?” I asked.

“We don’t have platform yet,” Lad’ka said, pointing at the screen she was standing under. We all walked around, and she showed us how to read it. It was much like a boarding sign at an airport, indicating where it departed from, and where it ended up at, along with the time of departure, and the platform for boarding.

As we were staring at it, platform 5 popped up for our train. We threw away our trash and headed out. Several of the lights in the hallway were out and parts of the floor were torn away and covered with boards. It was clearly under construction, but lacked the warning signs that would have surrounded an American construction zone.

We found the escalator leading up and out to platform 5 and rode up it. As we came to the surface, a beautiful sight burst into view overhead: a brilliant pink and blue sunrise.

“Oh my God,” I said, staring at it. “That’s the first time I’ve seen the sunrise since I got here.” Not that I get up early enough to see the sunrise back home with much frequency, but it was the brightest blue sky I’d seen in three weeks.

“I know, right?” Leo said. “It’s never sunny here.”

“I come from a state with 300 days of sunshine,” I said.

“Three-hundred days?” Lee asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I miss it.”

As we waited for the train, we snapped photos and made jokes about tourists.  I relayed one story saying, “I honestly heard a group of American tourists the other day say, ‘I love how European everything is here.’” We all laughed.

When the train came, it was like something out of a Harry Potter movie. Granted, the engine itself was diesel engine and looked like any that could be seen in the US (minus the “Union Pacific” logo that is) but the coaches inside were just like I’d imagined them. They were divided out into cabins, with six seats in each cabin. On each side, three padded blue chairs faced each other with storage racks overhead for bags and coats.

Lee and Leo sat on one side of the cabin, and Thibaut, Lad’ka, and I sat on the other. Lad’ka and Lee took the window seats, and Thibaut sat closest to the door. We all removed our jackets and they stowed their bags.

“I hate to say it,” I said, “but I feel very European getting on the train.” They laughed at me a bit and we made more jokes about tourists.

Within minutes of pulling out of the station, the five of them were all asleep. I stayed awake to watch the sunrise, taking in every second of the glorious light. I stared at it so intently, that I started to see spots and realized I needed to stop.

I tried taking photos as we rode along, but the train was moving too fast to capture any of quality. There were small towns with houses that would have been considered shacks back home. Even the homes that looked more familiar in size had out houses behind the home. There were other areas with impressive architecture built entirely from rocks. Some of the stone churches looked just as decorative in their own way as the National Cathedral. In between tiny settlements, the landscape was impressive. In sticking with a movie analogy, I’d say it was like the mountains from the Narnia films: jagged cliffs covered in snow and pine trees, and open meadows that stretched farther than the eye could see. I was struck by the thought that this area—the farm land, the mountains, all of it—was the Sudetenland that Hitler had so coveted.

As we rode along, the air outside soon became quite foggy. Clouds began to hide the blue sky and within minutes, the brilliant sunlight had been reduced to the grey haze that I’d become accustom to.

Our tickets were checked twice: once by a Czech conductor, and once when we crossed the border by a German one. Both times, Lad’ka woke up and produced them from her bag. They were stapled together and in a blue envelope. They didn’t ask for our passports. In fact, the only person they spoke to was Lad’ka.

The ride was about two hours. Our stop was the second one in Dresden, and when we arrived, we all barreled out. I was the last to leave the cabin, and, like a good American tourist, I took a few photos of the coach before getting off.

Swan Beach

"Me thinks that the moment my legs begin to move, my thoughts begin to flow." ~Henry David Thoreau

March 1, 2013
I woke up today feeling achy and stiff. It’s an unfortunate side effect from the anxiety attacks. Even though I’d slept, it hadn’t been very a restful night’s sleep. I ate a granola bar and finished blogging about the attack. I hesitated to share it, but I realized it was an obstacle I was going to be proud to have overcome, so I recorded it, simply for the sake of having it in my own memory bank.

When I got on the internet, I found that I had a note from Lad’ka about the trip. The train to Dresden left Saturday at 6:31am. There were only two trams from the dorm to the train station before that: one at 5:28 and one at 5:49. We decided we should take the 5:28. I messaged Thibaut to let him know. He replied and said his roommates were going to join us.

I stayed in bed a bit longer, still exhausted and fatigued from the night. It’s hard to wake up from an attack. Everything seems stressful and I feel like I’m waiting for the pain to return. As I was messing around on the computer, I got a note from Thibaut asking me if I wanted to go to the book store with him. Figuring getting out would help me get my mind off of things, I agreed and met him.

We took the tram to the train station and transferred to the subway. As we rode along, Thibaut asked me about public transportation in America, and I told him it was an area in which we were significantly lacking behind Europe.

To get to the bookstore, which was over in the Mala Strana neighborhood, we had to transfer to the B line. At the station, while we waited for the tram, a woman came up to us and started speaking Czech. While I didn’t know the exact words she was saying, I understood what she meant. She wanted to know if this train would take her to the Florenc stop. I tried to communicate that it wouldn’t but I couldn’t find the right words exactly. She got frustrated and walked off, but I was kind of pleased with myself for understanding both her and the subway system.

When we got to the destination and came up from the subway, Thibaut asked me if I recognized the area. It looked familiar to me, but I wasn’t sure if I’d actually been there before. Part of me felt like it might have been the subway station we got on at that first night in Prague (on our way to the dorms from the airport.) But then again, it might have been just a picture I saw in a book. The iconic statue that through me off was the tattered Czechoslovakian flag in the center of the square. I just couldn’t place where I’d seen it before.

As we walked around the Mala Strana area, I was again reminded of why this neighborhood is so popular with tourists. It is unlike anything in America. The cobblestone roads are narrow, the streets are uncluttered, and the shops are unique and quirky.

When we came to a small opening, I felt more oriented. We were north of town, and the clearing revealed a beach and a stunning view of the Charles Bridge. The beach was covered with tourists, who were captivated not by the view of the bridge, but by the large flock of swans playing on the beach.

Everyone says that swans are mean animals and that was certainly my observation. When they arch themselves and stretch out, they can probably look nearly 5 feet tall. They also run about as fast as a dog, and aren’t hesitant to get up close and personal with people they think have food.

At the same time, they were beautiful. Some of the ones that were molting looked like critters from The Ugly Duckling while others were the majestic white birds that artists paint and poets characterize.  

After taking some pictures of the birds, we headed to the bookstore. On our way there, Thibaut showed me a couryard that he said was quite famous. In fact, I had read about this site in my book. It was famous for the fountain of two men peeing. There were two features about the fountain that the book had failed to mention : first, the statues is not very big.probably 5.5 feet at it's tallest point. Secondly, parts of the statue are animated and move when water flows through them.

Many tourists were laughing and photographing the statue. We took a few pictures before continuing on to the bookstore.

The store was called Shakespeare & Sons and sold both new and used books, all by English, French, and American authors.  Thibaut went to the French section while I looked through some of the English books. Some of what I found was interesting:

• The Europeans do not give America much credit for the fall of communism. From their perspective, it was the rebels on the ground that brought the USSR to a collapse, not any action of the United States. While they admit America kept their nose in the game, many of them report America’s intervention as “a failure” and “a lot of show with no substance.” They laugh at Regan’s remarks to “tear down that wall” and name Vietnam as just one example of America being unsuccessful in stopping the Red Terror.
• Authors like Clive Cussler and James Patterson were displayed under classics. I’m not sure how James Patterson can be a classic when he cranks out a new book every week, but both American Authors were quite popular. I’d say Cussler probably had a bit more display room that Patterson, but they were shelved on the same display.
• In America, I get the impression that Shakespeare’s tragedies and comedies are the more popular works. In this shop, the histories certainly took up most of the shelf. I didn’t see a single copy of Romeo and Juliet.
• The new books were very inexpensive compared to American prices. They were probably $4 or $5 USD. The used books on the other hand were quite expensive. They were $2.50-$3.50 USD.

After Thibaut had bought his book, we walked back across the Charles Bridge, stopping to get one of those bread rolls cooked over charcoal. This batch was cold and they weren’t nearly as tasty without being served warm.

“Hey,” I said about half way across the bridge. “It’s March today!”

“Yes, it is,” Thibaut said.

I smiled. One month down! That was both an exciting and terrifying revelation. I was just about ¼ of the way to seeing my family and friends again, but ¼ of my time in Europe had flown by.

As we walked back to town, we were momentarily turned around. There was a fork in the road that we thought would both lead to Old Town. The way we chose definitely didn’t and we snaked back through side streets to find our way.

We cut through Old Town and up towards Wenceslas. We spent some time wandering around the market in the side streets. Where for the past three weeks merchants had displayed art work and crafts, now farmers were bringing out fresh fruit. The berries not only looked amazing, but their smell was intoxicating. Had we not been going to Dresden the next day, I would have spent some money to buy some.

When we got to Wenceslas, I asked Thibaut if he’d mind if I stopped for some ice cream. He said that he didn’t and we both went back to the sweet shop Lucas had told me about. I ordered a scoop of strawberry and he got a scoop as well. We sat down at the same table I’d been at the day before and enjoyed the dessert.

When I was about halfway through my cone, Thibaut looked at me and said, “Slow down!”

It was then that I realized how fast I ate. I guess I was aware of it. Back home, I’d often noticed that we finish meals in 10-15 minutes. Here, I’ve eaten enough meals by myself, I haven’t had any frame of reference to compare it to. But it was true; I was nearly done while he tasted each and every bite of the gelato.

When we’d both finished, we caught the tram back to the dorms. It was crowded and we wound up sitting on opposite sides of the tram car. I stared out the window as we rode along. Thibaut told me that he had to stop at the store to get cottage cheese and he hopped off a few stops before the dorms. We said goodbye and that we’d see each other tomorrow.

When I got back to the dorm, I decided to do some laundry. Once I had loaded my darks into the machine, I laid down for a bit to blog and rest up for tomorrow. Ivana called me and invited to meet up with her, Zuzzana, Lad’ka, and Kevin. I agreed.

We had a few communication errors in where to meet and when, and the fact I was waiting for my laundry didn’t help at all. I eventually met up with them and some of their friends at Wenceslas square. We went to a pub and everyone got beers. I had Mirinda while Lad’ka had some sort of Sprite-like drink. We only stayed for about 30 minutes and then she suggested that we should go home to get some sleep for Dresden.

On the tram ride home we talked about having to cook in the dorms.

“I am a terrible cook,” I told her. “I burn pasta all the time!”

She laughed. “And pancakes? How do you make pancakes in America? With milk and eggs?”

This time, I laughed. “I make them with powder,” I said. “It’s like a mix that you just add water too.” She laughed again.

“I am so stressed about waking up tomorrow,” she said. “Are you sure you want to?”

I realized in that moment that there was a cultural difference between me, and the rest of the group. To me, waking up early was a necessary evil in order to do as much as possible.  I had even joked when talking to Kevin about it that, “I’m American! If it doesn’t involve pain, it’s not worth doing.” To Lad’ka however, it was just an unnecessary frustration.

“In America,” I said before catching myself, “well I’m not sure about all of America, but I’ve definitely heard my friends and family say it…we have this saying for when you know you have to get up early and you won’t get much sleep. We say ‘sleep fast.’”

“Sleep fast?” she repeated.  I nodded. She giggled. “Sleep fast. I like that.”

As we approached her station, which was one before mine, she reminded me about being on time so we didn’t miss the tram. She told me to check with the others so they would be on time too.

“Will do,” I said. “I won’t do laundry in the morning either so I’m not running late this time.”

“Good,” she said.

As she got off, I told her, “Sleep fast.”

“You too,” she said.

I rode the tram to my stop and got off. Since I hadn’t had dinner yet, I decided to run over to the restaurant across the street to get something to eat. The man at the piano was strumming away his usual repertoire of songs. I realized that most of them were tunes from My Fair Lady.  For dinner, I ordered the cheapest thing on the menu which was basically spaghetti in a pepper sauce. It was tasty, but I was suddenly aware of how fast I was eating.

After I finished, I paid the waitress but she left the table before I could tip her. I went back by counter and handed her a few coins. She was clearly grateful and thanked me.

Heading back to the dorm, I got ready for the next day. Setting my alarm for 4:45am, I went to bed to prepare for my first adventure out of the Czech Republic.

 

The Attack

Flashback: December 29, 2012
“It could be a collapsed lung,” the doctor said. “Sometimes, twenty-something white guys get these spontaneously collapsed lungs. But we’ll also do an EKG to make sure there’s nothing wrong with your heart.”

I didn’t care what it was. Granted, both of those things sounded bad. Collapsed lungs or arrhythmias were not things I wanted to experience anytime soon—anytime at all really—but more than anything, I wanted the pain to go away.

My parents and I had been watching TV. Family Feud I think it was, but I wasn’t really paying attention. I had spent the day buying travel books for my trip to Prague. Now, as I thumbed through them, I was trying to get a blog together that I could use while I was overseas. I’d built the template months ago; I was just trying to figure out what to post first.

That’s when it happened. It started in my abdomen and slowly climbed up my chest and into my back. At first it just felt like basic cramping and I adjusted myself in the chair. But it kept spreading, and soon, it started tightening. My chest felt like it was being crushed. It hurt to inhale, but it hurt even more to exhale.  The muscles all through my arms went rigid. I could move them, but it was more comfortable if I didn’t.

My parents tried to help me, but the pain was unlike anything I’d felt before. After almost an hour of trying to get it to go away, we went to the hospital where the ER admitted me.

“Now there hasn’t been any physical trauma that would cause anything like this?” the doctor asked. She was tall and blonde, with kind of a stalky build, probably in her late forties/early fifties.  When she came into the room, we’d compared stories about SCUBA diving. Oddly, talking about something besides the pain seemed to make the pain less severe.

“No,” I said.

“And how about anything psychological?” she asked. “Anything stressing you out or anything you’re worried about or anxious over?”

That did it. The vice around my body squeezed and I clenched my teeth. If I were truly honest, I was anxious about going to Prague. Buying books and making plans suddenly made it feel more and more real. I was excited for the opportunity, but inside I was panicked and I’d been trying to hide that ever since I got my acceptance letter (almost 3 months earlier.)

“I supposed I have been a little stressed lately,” I admitted. She made a note and left the room. As she did, I asked her to send in my Mom. Six hours, several scans, and various IV pain killers all revealed that I had had a run-of-the-mill anxiety attack.

Over the next month, as I got ready to go, the same panicked feeling came and went. I bought a health magazine at one point that had an article on anxiety attacks. Apparently they are a growing epidemic in my demographic (white, college-aged, males.) The best advice it gave was to not worry about having anxiety attacks, recognize an attack when it was coming on, step away from the current task, and start counting until the attack subsided. Throughout shopping, packing, saying “goodbyes” and air travel, the trick had worked. While I’d get the painful tingling in my abdomen from time to time, I never had another attack as bad as that night in the hospital. Since I’d been on the ground in Prague, I hadn’t felt an attack at all.

Feb 28, 2013 (continued)I was in the middle of writing my blog post for today, and had just begun to describe grocery shopping, when out of nowhere, I felt a familiar sensation grab my core. I adjusted a little and tried to make it go away. I stood up and stretched, took some deep breaths, and tried to really focus on just blogging.

It didn’t work.

Within 15 minutes, the pain was pounding in my back and suffocating my chest. My body once again felt like it was in a vice and I couldn’t breathe. My arms went stiff, my joints clenching tighter and tighter.  My muscles spasmed and breathing felt impossible.

I set down my laptop and walked out into the kitchen. I filled my mug with water and sat at the table sipping it and counting. When my roommates came back, I stood up, and with a smile excused myself to the bathroom. I put the lid down over the toilet and sat on it. It was cooler in the bathroom and I resumed taking deep breaths. Within a few minutes, the attack subsided. I stood up, went back in my room and continued to blog.

After typing just two sentences, the pain seized me again. It felt crippling, but I tried really hard not to show it.

What did I have to be stressed out about? I’m in Europe! I’m meeting people, playing tourist, loving the stories and the history I get to see every day. Why can’t that be enough?

I decided to try taking a shower. Very disoriented, I stood up and went into the washroom. As I did, I realized I forgot my towel. I went back to get it. When I returned to the washroom, I realized I forgot my toiletry kit. I went back to get it. My brain was firing signals from nowhere any despite telling myself to calm down, but body wasn’t getting the message.

My roommates were in and out for a poker game that was going on upstairs. I stayed in the shower for quite a while. The warm water felt good and I felt my muscles begin to let up.

When I got out, I got dressed and returned to my computer. I felt a lot better. I started blogging, and typed out several more sentences, when once again, like a knife ripping through my chest, the pain shot across my body. My back seized up and my lungs felt like they were collapsing. I couldn’t do it anymore. I had to force my body to relax.

I tossed my laptop to the floor and quickly shut off the lights. I lay down in bed, but as soon as I did, I felt like I was suffocating. Grabbing a few jackets and some of my clothes out of my drawers, I created a wedge under my pillow to prop myself up.

I started to count. One. Two. Three. Four. Five…the pain just kept squeezing. I felt like if I didn’t keep focusing on my breathing, my body would forget how.

Just calm down, I thought. Please calm down. There’s nothing to worry about. You’ve had a great trip. You’re safe. Your family is safe. Your friends are safe. You have a fun weekend coming up. Just calm down!

Sixty-seven. Sixty-eight. Sixty-nine. This was so much worse than the night I went to the hospital.

I guess if I thought about it, stress was a normal response. As of tomorrow (Friday) I will have been out of the country for three weeks. I’ve been away from my parents and my friends for that entire time. I’ve been in a new routine, in an unfamiliar culture. Simple day to day tasks I could have done in minutes back home can take hours here. Learning the schedule, catching the tram, figuring out my classes…it’s all be hectic. I’ve been living on my own for the first time in my life—really on my own since Boy Scouts gave me an excuse to swing by the house on a regular basis for the last 18 months of college. I’m doing laundry on a regular basis and cooking for myself when I want to eat. My diet has completely changed, as has my sleep schedule. I’m sure I’m a bit dehydrated too. I suppose my brain might need a chance to catch up to my body.

But I wasn’t going to let this little attack stop me. I have been having so much fun. I’ve learned so much about Prague, and about myself, that I didn’t want a little bit of stress to slow me down. My plans for the weekend are exciting, and I’ve enjoyed getting to know the people I’m going to go with. This is just a blip in the radar. This was probably some repressed fear and emotion that I needed to deal with, and now that my body was sorting it out, I could get back to the adventure.

For over half an hour, my body would relax only to tense back up again. I kept counting until the pain went away, then I’d let my mind wander. Within a few minutes of straying from the rhythm of numbers, would retighten, feeling worse than before. The last number I consciously remember thinking was 1,624.

Somewhere shortly after that, I drifted off.

Victory

"Pamatujte, každý den je dobrodružství."~Matt (Czech for: "Remember, everyday is an adventure.")

Feb 28, 2013
I had a rough time falling asleep last night. It was hard to get comfortable, harder to drift off, and even harder to stay asleep. I’d gotten up early and I was dead tired, but I just couldn’t quite relax enough to nod off completely.

Sometime around 2am I did fall asleep. I slept till about 10:00. When I woke up, I had a message on Facebook from my brother. I replied, before getting up to plan out my day.

I had three things I needed to do today. First, I needed to go grocery shopping. I was pretty much out of food and couldn’t pull off eating out every meal. Second, I had some homework to do. Our research project was due next Tuesday and I wanted to start reviewing my notes on Czech to see if I couldn’t start picking up some more of the language. Third, I wanted to go see Lady of Tyn Church.

I decided to start with the grocery store since I needed the food. I made a list and started gathering my things when I realized I didn’t have any coins. Again, the grocery carts require a coin to use them. I certainly had enough things on my list that I’d need a cart. So I decided to be flexible. I flipped my schedule around and headed into town instead.

On the way to town, I hopped off by school to get a piece of pizza from the window vendor. I had a 100 crown bill and the pizza was only 25 crowns a slice. Since 100 crowns is the smallest denomination of paper money, I knew my change would be in coins and then I’d have the coin I needed for the grocery store.

I ate the pizza and continued into town on the tram, deciding I’d go see the church first and then return to the store. I rode into the Republic Square and walked down Celtena street towards Old Town Square. Lady of Tyn Church is a key feature of the Prague skyline known for its two towering spires and I was able to see them as I approached.

I came up along the east side of the building. Tucked into one of the small gardens by the church, and practically hidden by the canopy of a restaurant, was a statue of the Virgin Mary. According to the history of the church, this statue used to sit in the center of Old Town Square next to the Astronomical Clock. When Prague was invaded in World War I, the statue was removed. Some sources say it was moved out of protest by the protestants, other say it was to protect it by the Catholics; either way, the statue hasn’t been returned to the center of town.

Following a series of signs to the entrance of the church, I walked first to the north side, then to the west side, and eventually to the south. As I walked through the narrow streets encircling the church, I noticed the number of tourists in the area. They all walked around with cameras pointed skyward or—and this one is my personal favorite—pulling a suitcase on wheels behind them across the cobblestone roads.

When I got to the south side of the building, I didn’t see the entrance to the church. In fact, I hadn’t really even seen its south side. There were other buildings built into the front of the church. It looked like part of it was a restaurant, part of it was a ticket office, and part of it looked like office space. I initially thought from the signs that maybe the office space was part of the French embassy, but then I realized the French Embassy probably wouldn’t have signs in Czech on it.

As I walked through a narrow passage between a few of the buildings, I found a small courtyard that led to the entrance of the church. Going in through the wooden doors, I discovered, like a few of the other churches, this one wasn’t open to the public. All I could do was stand in the glass entry way and peer into the sanctuary.

What I could see was fantastic! They didn’t allow photography, but the room was once again gilded in gold and draped in regal, purple banners. It was stunning and powerful to look at.

As I walked back out into Old Town Square, I saw another church that I hadn’t been in. It had an iconic green roof (as many of the significant buildings in Prague seemed to have) and looked to be open to the public today.

This church was called The Church of Nicholas—named for the same saint as the church I’d toured by the castle. It was now a Hussite church, after changing hands with the Catholics a number of times. I’d read about it in a few of my travel books, but it didn’t get the same attention as some of the bigger churches.

As I approached one set of doors, there was a large orange sign saying—in both English and Czech—that the entrance was on the other side. As I walked around the building, I saw a squished cupcake on the ground, followed by a series of frosting covered footprints that trace the trail up the stairs and into the church.

Inside, the sanctuary was beautiful. There was a huge, crystal chandelier that hung over most of the room. Bohemian crystal has been the largest export of the region since Prague was founded thousands of years ago. This church had put this crystal too good use. The organ had enormous golden, silver, and crystal angel wings coming out of either side of it. There were crystal crosses and gilded statues all around the room. The ceiling was painted with stunning frescos, the most interesting of which (in my opinion) was one that made it look as though the congregation was looking up from the fires of Hell into Heaven.  At the front of the room was a very simple altar, decorated with yellow tulips and displaying a wooden carving of the Eucharist.

In one corner there was a display on the history of The Church of Nicholas. It had been a pivotal church throughout Prague’s history. Jan Hus (one of the earliest reformers to break away from the Catholic Church) had preached in this church. His demands had been that all should receive the Eucharist, and that the gospel should be preached in the native tongue. After he was burned as a heretic, the church had remained vital in the Hussite movement away from the Roman Catholic Church. It had played a pivotal role in the struggle for Czechoslovak independence following the fall of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, being the first church to speak in the then nationalized Czech language. It was also a strategic location for political resistance against Hitler in WWII. Many of the priests of the church had been shipped off to concentration camps and killed for promoting their religion—a crime seen as a disruption to the Nazi party. After the fall of communism, this church has lead the way in helping reintroduce religion to what is one of the most Atheist cities in the world. The name Nicholas is very fitting for the church. “Nicholas” is a variation of the Greek word for “Victory.”

Being only midafternoon, I decided to walk around for a bit. Lucas had told me on Monday about a great place to get ice cream near Wenceslas Square. I decided to head there to make up for the ice cream eating I’d lost in the past weeks.

As I walked to Wenceslas, past the Astronomical clock and through the market of street vendors, I came upon another church I hadn’t been inside yet. Checking the doors, they were locked and I’m assuming from all of the signs with red “X”s this one wasn’t for tourists.

I continued down the cobblestone roadway and into Wenceslas Square. According to Lucas, the shop was next to the “cinema” that was across from the tram station. I assumed that Cinema meant Movie Theater, but when I got to the tram station, I didn’t see a movie theater anywhere. Looking around a bit, I found a shop that sold DVDs. Sure enough just around the corner from that was a small walk up window selling ice cream by the scoop.

The various flavors of ice cream were displayed in a glass case, just like in Cold Stone or Baskin Robbins. There were small pieces of fruit in each tub identifying the flavor. Caramel is my favorite, but I will pretty much go for anything that is extra-sweet-and-rich. I ordered one scoop of the cookie flavor, and one scoop of a tub that looked caramel flavor. I learned from the lady working—who spoke broken English—that it was actually walnut and was their “most famous flavor.”

 Sitting at one of the outdoor tables by the shop, I enjoyed every bite of ice cream that I took. Both flavors tasted amazing and were gone much too quickly. The cone itself was shaped sort of oddly. It was longer than most ice cream cones and very, very skinny. It too was very sweet. As I sat there enjoying my treat, and watching people race about the square, I couldn’t think of a more perfect way to spend an afternoon.

As I left the ice cream shop, I came around the corner just in time to see Tram 9 pulling away. Of course there would be another one in six minutes, so I paced around looking in shop windows and listening to the Czech conversations around me.

When the tram came I rode it back to the dorm. Going inside to get my grocery list, I saw that I had a note on my Facebook from Lad’ka. She was putting together a trip for this weekend and said she’d be over at 3pm to discuss it. Since it was almost 3, I decided to wait for her to come.

When she arrived, we went over train schedules and sites to see. She said she would put together the tour, I just needed to find people to go with us so we could get the group discounts.

We started recruiting by going up to Kevin’s room. Kevin had Lad’ka’s ethernet chord and she wanted to get it back. Since Kevin still doesn’t have his visa approved, he isn’t able to travel, but his roommate (Gabe from Texas) was interested in going.

Lad’ka had to leave, but I emailed Thibaut to find more people. Thibaut and at least one of his roommates wanted to come with us.  That would give us enough people to get a group discount.

As I exchanged notes with Thibaut, I also talked briefly with my friend James. He was in class however so our conversation got cut off. I decided that was a good cue to head out. With my coin for the shopping cart in hand and my grocery list in my pocket, I headed out for the store.

I rode the 9 in the opposite direction from town towards the grocery store. I’d learned from a few of the Czech students that this brand was frequented more by elderly people which was why even the younger employees didn’t speak English; it was meant to create a more comfortable atmosphere for the older shoppers, who didn’t like the influence of English in the country.

I got to the store and deposited my coin into the cart. The chain unlocked and I took the buggy inside.

I immediately felt lost. The signs over the shelves and aisles were all in Czech. All of the packaging and branding was in Czech. I was pretty much going to have to buy based off of (a) what I already knew or (b) the pictures on the labels.

My list was pretty simple

• Yogurt—as a simple breakfast/snack that I could eat
• Riso—this was something Ivana had introduced me to. It’s kind of like a tapioca pudding.
• Pasta—my new best friend. One of two dinners I know how to safely make.
• Lunch meat—for those nights I want protein.
• Bread—in case I run out of carbohydrates…good to eat with the pasta, and maybe if I get brave, to make sandwiches.
• Cheese—again, I’m being optimistic on those sandwiches.
• Granola bars—something to munch on when I get hungry around town or between classes.
• Nuts—for some extra protein between meals of pasta and yogurt.
• Paper towels—haven’t had these in a few weeks and now realize how much I over use them at home
• Dish soap—thus far I’ve been boiling water to sterilize my dishes…lucky I haven’t gotten too sick.

I started out retracing the steps that Ivana and I had taken. I found the pasta right away and bought a few different types. I also found granola bars and probably bought way too many of them. I was paying closer attention to expiration dates this time, and those things are going to be good long after I’m back in the States. The bread was the item that expired the fastest. It would only last me till next Monday.

Next I moved into the dairy section. I bought several different flavors of yogurt (some of the fruits on the labels I don’t even recognize) as well as a few flavors of the Riso. For lunch meat, I grabbed a few different types, not exactly sure which came from what animals. For cheese, I wasn’t able to find any sliced cheese, but I got a wheel of a real smooth cheese I figured I could spread on the bread (if I could ever track down a knife that is.)

The only things I had left were nuts, paper towels, and dish soap. I found an area of the store that was selling snack foods like potatoe chips and pretzels. Sure enough, I found cans of mixed nuts here. I also found a whole shelf of Milka Chocolate. I bought a variety package with 32 pieces. In my head I thought, if I eat four pieces a day, that’ll last me eight days and I’ll save a ton of money…while I cooked dinner, I ate six pieces.

Going through the store on my own was interesting. Traffic seemed so congested, but not to the people shopping. People really didn’t stay on one side of the aisle. It wasn’t like traffic where you keep right except to pass; it was more like you keep your buggy on your hip and wherever you go, it goes too. As a foreigner who was trying not to disrupt the flow, it made figuring out the flow quite difficult. I got only a few irritated looks, but nothing I wouldn’t see from a hostile shopper back home. I suppose grocery shopping isn’t much fun regardless of where you live.

I found my last two items, the soap and the paper towels, next to each other. As I made my way out, I decided to grab a little fruit juice to mix in with my water. Ivana had taught me this trick since the tap water—while safe to drink and very refreshing—occasionally gets a bit of a metallic taste to it.

At check out, I put my things on the conveyor belt and waited to pay. As the girl rang them up, I began bagging them. I noticed the woman behind me looked very frustrated. That was when I realized other people weren’t bagging their items; they were just putting them back in the carts. Like a good American, I finished what I started, separating my perishables from my non-perishables and putting the heavy items in the bottom of the bag. The groceries cost a lot more than I expected, but less than the first time I’d came with Ivana. It was still only about $30 USD, and I had gone a little over the “bare-bones” meal plan I’d budgeted.

After I paid and went outside, I saw that people were bagging their groceries as they returned their carts. Once the bags were full, they removed them from the cart. Then they reinserted the chain, and their coin was returned to them. I took note of this for next time.

I rode the tram back to the dorm. Putting away my groceries, I got online and skyped with my brother for a bit. After we hung up, I started making dinner.

Actually, before I made dinner, I decided to wash my dishes. Now that I had the soap to do it, I rinsed them off and scrubbed them a bit. There was some sauce burned to the bottom of the pot, and I used a spoon to vehemently scrape it off. After applying a bit of soap, they looked so much cleaner than the boiling water had been getting them.

For dinner, I made pasta and tried smearing some of the cheese on some of the bread (using a spoon since I still don’t have a knife.) I also poured myself a glass of milk. It tasted amazing! While I can’t read any of the labels on the carton, I gather it is only 1.5% fat. At the same time, it tastes unlike any milk I’ve had before. I don’t even know how to describe it, because it doesn’t taste like milk…at all!

After I ate and cleaned up, I got online again to work on the blog. I wrote a bit while talking with my old roommate from freshmen year. It had been a mostly productive day. Groceries were bought; two churches had been toured; the only thing missing was that pesky homework.

Guess that gives me something to do on Friday!

Get Smart

“Education is not the filling of a pail but the lighting of a fire.” ~William Butler Yeats

Feb 27, 2013

When I woke up this morning, I still felt congested and my head was throbbing. I drank a ton of water before going to class hoping that might clear it up. I wanted to save the Tylenol and Advil that I had some if I needed them later in the trip (I have no idea how to say Acetaminophen in Czech if I had to buy more.)

I went to my early morning class which is on International Management. “Have I told you about three rules in my class?” he asked. Everyone stared at him blankly. We were either all tired and groggy, or he hadn’t mentioned it.

“You can interrupt me as the professor for three things,” he said. “The first is if you do not understand something. I know my accent and many of the accents in here might be hard to understand so just ask if you don’t understand.

“The second is if you know something I do not know. Even though I teach international classes and travel, you know more about your country than I know, so feel free to share it.

“Third, you can always interrupt if you think of a good joke.”

It is always funny to hear the professors talk about America. In many ways, they don’t consider America to be the world giant that we think of ourselves as. In other ways, they seem to see us as the biggest player (along with China, India, and the emerging Brazil.)

Today there was a lot of positive coverage of America. As a few examples:

• Of the 500 largest corporations in the world, over half of them are owned out of the US.
• The value of Apple is equal to a third of the entire GDP of the EU.
• There is great faith in the dollar, with almost two thirds of the world’s cash reserves being held in American currency.

The negative critique came in America’s relationship with Mexico. While my professor gives credit to the US and NAFTA for helping Mexico grow quite a bit, he is under the impression that we have built a wall across the southern border of America. He says, “This is not very nice way to deal with neighbors.”

I didn’t interrupt him to correct this fact. Neither did the other seven Americans in the class.

We also had to choose groups to do a research project on the WTO. Karin and I decided to work together, and a Czech girl named Ellie asked to join our group. We divided out roles for the project, and agreed on a few deadlines to check in with each other on the progress. The project is due next Tuesday so it doesn’t give us a ton of time, but the guidelines are also pretty open ended.

“Whichever project is the best gets the 10 points,” the professor said. “That is the A. The other ones will be judged off of that one.”

“Easy,” I said. “All we have to do is be better than everyone else.” Maybe that’s the American coming out in me.

After class, I went back to the dorms to try sleeping off the headache again. This time, when I woke up, I actually did feel a lot better. I was still a little congested, but the tension in my head seemed to be gone.  Unfortunately, I overslept and had to race out to the tram to get to class.

I arrived a few minutes late, but Professor Kral hadn’t started lecturing yet. When he did, it was another really interesting class. He finished his presentation from last week on possible barriers to international marketing. Using humor and sex as examples he pointed out how difference in culture can make ad campaigns more or less effective. Humor tends to be universally accepted (as long as the subject is appropriate to joke about within the culture) while sex tends to be a bit more sacred and harder to use across borders.

One example he showed was this video of a German ad campaign that wound up being successful in many countries:

 

Something I found interesting was the discussion of television advertising. In the EU there are legal limits on TV advertising. With England being the most restrictive, each country has a set limit of the number of ads that can be shown during a TV program. The generally accepted baseline is that only 15% of a scheduled portion of a TV program can be used for advertising (example: for each hour of television, only 9 minutes can be used for advertising…in England, its only 4 minutes.) The joke that several European students have made is that "football" (Soccer) never caught on in the US because the game is too fast for commercial breaks.

After class, I went to meet with Thibaut. We decided to go get dinner back by the dorms.

“I read your blog,” he said again. “I saw some of the things you said about America.”

I reiterated to him some of the pros and cons I saw in the American lifestyle after being away. He also asked me about my family and I asked about his.

“And what have you seen in Prague,” he asked. I told him the various sites, museums, and churches I had seen.

“And you?” I asked. He had a similar list, although he was clearly better versed at the history of the city than I was.

We went back and forth quite a bit before getting into the subject of travel.When all was said and done, we both had lists of places to see but we decided on Vienna, Krakow, and Budapest. Looking at the calendar, we picked a date to go to Krakow and are now looking for transport to get there. His roommates, who come from around the world, are also interested in traveling with us. I had found some folks to travel with!

After dinner, we went back to the dorms. I still felt a little congested and my headache was returning, so I decided to turn into be a little early to try and beat the cold. I found an American radio station online and listened for a bit while I blogged.

Looks like tomorrows adventure will include grocery shopping, homework, and hopefully a cathedral tour!