The Bold and the Beautiful

I’m done. My presentation went well. I am relieved to be done. People keep asking me how good it feels, and it’s sort of like on your birthday when people ask you how you feel to be older and you don’t feel any different and then you worry that you should feel different but you don’t know how you’re supposed to feel because you haven’t ever been that old yet, so you end up not really knowing what you’re feeling at all...that’s how I feel about my being done, I think. I’m also a little wrapped up with wrapping up this whole semester, so being done with school is not at all real to me yet.

Enough of that, it’s time for the long awaited answer to the question “Are Czech people attractive?” In short, the answer is “I don’t know.” Had I (prematurely) written this entry a month ago, I would have said, “No, they are generally very normal-looking. People in Bratislava (Slovakia) were definitely very attractive, however.” BUT, now that I am a month older and many experiences wiser, I’m starting to think that Czech people are inded the most beautiful people in the world. I should be cautious, because maybe the people I’m seeing are tourists (though they speak awfully good Czech for being tourists), or maybe I’m just so desperate for good-looking people that I’ve lowered my standard (though that usually doesn’t happen at Carleton, where it is much more necessary, haha), but I really think that I’m just now able to objectively say that the Czechs seem to peak in the wintertime, and they are certainly lookin’ good now.

From the beginning, all of the (3) guys in my group decided that they were crazy about Czech girls. They said that every single Czech woman they saw was gorgeous, and that even Czechs with “flaws” (their words) were more beautiful than any other people without. I think that they were responding to a certain “real-ness” that the people here have; the women don’t wear much makeup, their clothes aren’t extravagant, provocative, or even particularly flattering, and they aren’t worried about something being out-of-place—they are extremely confident and clearly comfortable with themselves. When I’m out in the US, sometimes I feel like other females are constantly judging my appearance or are perpetually thinking about their own, and here I have none of that sense at all. How attractive you are is just not as important, and that’s nice. This does lead to some strange choices, like the old women with pink or blue hair, but even that is endearing.

That said, while this “real-ness” does wonders for a woman’s beauty, it can’t accomplish as much for men, who generally aren’t as fake or as worried about appearance as women anyway and therefore can’t gain as much from losing those traits. Men are constantly grumpy-looking or uninterested in what is going on, but when they finally do engage or smile they do have a certain charm and genuity that is refreshing. Pozor (“pozor” means “beware”), however, because with men this real thing can go too far very quickly. First of all, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve noticed a cute guy on the metro only to realize that there’s a girl sitting on his lap. Even worse is when I notice that he doesn’t give up his seat. But the WORST is the hair issue. Frequently, frequently, I will see a guy on the tram or outside waiting for the bus and start to think that he’s cute, but then he turns his head to reveal a gigantic rat-tail. I am a laid-back person and I can deal with many things, maybe even a mullet (which is also quite popular among Czech lads), but a rat-tail is a solid deal-breaker, no questions asked.

In conclusion, Czech people are definitely good-looking, especially when just focusing on facial features, but also taking into account how awesomely genuine their appearances are. However, before you enter a relationship with a cute Czech boy I would make it clear that while you support him and his choices you will never, ever, under no circumstances, be seen with a rat-tail. (even though your host family has a rat.)

Beginning of the End

Well, I’m sorry about my lack of posting recently. I’d give some reasons, but I’m reminded of the poster hanging in the weight room of the SP high school saying “No excuses, just results,” so I’ll just do better instead.

I did use up a lot of words this week completing my independent study project paper, which ended up at a whopping 34 pages, not counting the title page, abstract, bibliography, appendix, etc. I planned to post it on here but I didn’t have time to fine-tune it, or really even proofread it, and the thought of people reading it and then telling me about typos or something makes me feel a bit ill. Besides, I would like to get feedback and questions, so I would rather talk about it with you sometime, so next time you see me you can make my day by bringing it up. I do have to continue thinking about the subject a little, because on Monday I have to deliver a 20-minute presentantion on it, but after that I am done with college. I don’t know exactly how I feel about that yet, but I think I’m mostly happy about it.

While last week I devoted around 12 hours a day to sitting in school trying to write, this week should be much more of an adventure. Monday and Tuesday we have presentations, and I’m really looking forward to hearing about everyone’s project because I am a nerd. After that we head out to the Czech countryside for a three-day “retreat” and program wrap-up, and then the program is done. I originally planned to have an amazing adventure the week between that and when my family gets here, but for various reasons that’s not going to work out. It’s probably for the best, because I have a lot of little things to take care of in Prague, and I’m hoping I can help out with Christmas preparations so that Elena doesn’t develop a hernia, which might happen anyway. She’s been going a million miles a minute and takes every opportunity to tell me how tired she is and complain that “the men” don’t help her with anything. Last night she told me that Jan was at a meeting at the Elementary School, and when I questioned why she said sarcastically “Because you know it is very important for men to be out of the house when Christmas is coming.” It was so funny. She’s been very sweet to me lately, though, and I do feel sorry for her, but she’s so overdramatic it’s hard to be truly sympathetic.

Oh, and I should tell you about “Nikolas Day”. Czechs celebrate St. Nicholas Day the night before (so December 5). Traditionally, adults would dress up in groups of three, one as an angel, one as a devil, and one as St. Nicholas. They would visit children (arranged by the parents) and the devil would glare threateningly while they interrogated the kids about their behavior the past year. The devil carries a bag and chain for the sole purpose of “carrying the child off to hell” if they were bad. It’s quite terrifying, and I’ve heard many stories from adults about being scarred for life because of their fear of this devil. The devil makes a very specific noise, but I don’t know how to type it, so ask me to show you sometime. (Does the devil make a noise in English?) In any case, when it has been decided that the child has been good enough, the devil leaves and the angel and St. Nicholas make him/her preform a song or quote a poem, then leave candy, coal, oranges, etc. That was how it used to work. Now, kids dress up too and it’s more of a Halloweeny-Christmas extravaganza (out on the street everyone I passed was one of the three; and though there’s not much freedom as far as costume they get pretty creative). My host family didn’t do this, but late at night Elena called me downstairs where she had prepared a spread of various nuts, dates, and pineapple. As we were eating she said, “The children should look behind the curtains,” and when Simon and I did we found gift bags packed with peanuts, walnuts, oranges, and some chocolate. It was very cute, and also cool because when I was little “St. Nick” in the form of my parents always gave me oranges (which were okay) and peanuts (which I didn’t like), and I thought it was a bit rude of him, but I have renewed enthusiasm for these gifts because I now understand they are a remnant of my Czech heritage.

A (Czech) American in Paris (and Amsterdam)

Today is Monday. I got back on Saturday, and Elena was gone for the weekend. Tonight when I returned to the house, I was immediately pressured into trying “slenina” (no idea how to spell that). Whatever it’s called, it is a hunk of fat literally the size of a brick (about 2.5 inches tall, 3.5 inches wide, and 8 inches long. Apparently it comes from a pig, and is the layer between the skin and the meat. Elena cut off some of it with a knife (like butter) and spread it on a piece of bread for me. All I can say is gross gross gross gross gross. It tasted okay, much like bacon, but I couldn’t stop looking at the white chunk of pure fat sitting on the table and imagining it on me or on a pig (I don’t know which is worse). They LOVE it and have polished off half of the brick already. GROSS.

So yes, I think that means I’m officially back in the Czech Republic. I’m just okay with that right now- I had a great time, and I was welcomed back by my project deadline looming over me and a slenina-like weight of homesickness in my tummy. But my trip was definitely one worth remembering. I’ll just summarize for you.

I was in the airport for too long (this is a story you should ask me to tell you sometime) Monday night, and my flight left at 6:30 in the morning. I met up with my friend Russell in Amsterdam, which is an absolutely darling city. It was smaller and cuter than I expected. I was the most delighted by the plethora of bikes and flower-stands running along the canals. We spent a lot of time wandering around the city (which is rather small), exploring a few museums, and admiring just the chill atmosphere. We did accidentally wander into the Red Light District while failing to find Anne Frank’s house (I realize this is a strange juxtaposition), and while it was an interesting sight I’m glad we didn’t spend too much time there.

We were only there for two days, and on the second night we boarded a bus to Paris. In retrospect it was sort of funny, but at the time it was quite miserable, and I don’t recommend trying to sleep on an 8-hour overnight bus ride. We got to Paris early in the morning and dropped our things off at the hostel, then Russell showed me around the main sights of the city (where he had been before). Maybe it was the early-morning light, but for me Paris was love at first sight. I have never been in such a beautiful city. The scale was so much grander than anything I had ever seen before, and maybe this is nerdy but the symmetry and alignment of the buildings was absolutely remarkable. The first thing I saw was Notre Dame, which seemed impossibly large and creepy (definitely the perfect place for a hunchback). Later, we went inside, and the interior was equally overwhelming. My favorite thing by far, however, was the Louvre. I can’t describe to you how huge it is, and the only word I can think to describe it is majestic. I really have no words to describe to you the effect it had on me, I’ve never felt the grandness of something so much before. We entered it through the courtyard, then went out front and saw the glass pyramids and fountains and looked down through the park in front to see a gigantic Ferris Wheel (which we rode, upon my insistence) and beautiful arcs. We returned later after it had cleared and I realized that you could actually see the Eiffel tower from there, too.

We saw everything both during the day and at night, which is a crucial recommendation for anyone going to Paris, since every building’s beauty changes depending on the light. I’m going to just list the other things we saw, since I literally have no words to describe to you how amazing and absolutely Parisian everything was: we toured the Louvre and Musee d’Orsay, walked down the Champs-Elysees, saw the Arc de Triomphe and the Opera House, perused the Galeries Lafayette (a huge department store), marvelled at the Eiffel Tower, and of course ate a lot. One of my favorite parts was just walking down the streets near our hostel, which were full of stands selling every type of fresh produce imaginable, and of course lots of other things, as well. Just as I had hoped, there were millions of cafes and bridges and ah, everything was perfect. I keep saying this, but Paris was one of the few things in my life that has exceeded my expectations by so much, and that’s saying a lot because I had very high expectations. It was exactly as I had imagined Paris to be, but better. I have no words.

I’d better find some words, though, because my 30-page culmination of my project is due on Friday. I think I’m going to school for the whole day tomorrow- it’s open from 10am to 10pm. We’ll see how that goes, wish me luck.

brb

Not much new, just wanted to let you know that I'm heading out to Amsterdam and Paris for the next few days, so I won't be updating in a while. I should have some stories when I get back, though :). Take care and stay warm; I almost got blown away in a snowstorm today, but now it's sunny. Good thing I was trained in Wisconsin.

Fakt Jo?

First of all, let me say that I realize that I have been making some mistakes in this blog. Some cringe-worthy mistakes, like making an allusion to Emerson when I mean Thoreau and spelling Hrabal’s name wrong consistently. In my defense, I noticed this on my own (suddenly and spontaneously, actually, while walking through Old Town. I feel like the aura of the intelligencia struck me and forced me to recall my faux pas (though it gave me no clue regarding how to pluralize “faux pas”)). So, I apologize for that and I think we can all take away a lesson about not believing everything you read on the internet.

I (personally- haha) took away a message about the power of my subconcious—a part of me which has been increasingly using Czech, or actually one Czech phrase: fakt jo. Yes, it’s pronounced “f***ed yo” and when uttered in the presence of at least two Americans, it’s guarenteed to elicit at least one childish giggle. It means “Really” as in “Truthfully” or “Is that right?”. It comes from the word “fact”, which makes a lot of sense, but the pronounciation is delightfully slated towards the more vulgar “auh” vowel sound. In any case, it’s certainly in my vocabulary, and I’ve been using it a lot recently, since many strange things have happened.

Yesterday was Thanksgiving, and on Thanksgiving I spent three hours in a Czech hospital. I am fine—thank you for the concern—I was interviewing a woman who had just had surgery near her spinal cord. I had emailed another round of contacts early this week asking if they had time to meet with me and answer a few questions. This woman, who works for the Ministry of Education, said, “Sure, I’m avaliable all week. I am in the hospital and visiting hours are yaddayadda.” Needless to say, I was intrigued, and also felt like I couldn’t say no after she offered to speak with me in the hospital. She gave me impecible (is that spelled right?) directions, and sure enough it was a real hospital and I really went to the Neurological ward. I guess I expected her to be in fairly good condition, but that wasn’t exactly the case. She had an IV in her arm, she didn’t sit up the whole time I was there, and she was clearly very physically weak. She was in a room with two other patients who were maybe in worse health than she. There was a strong hospital smell. It was the real thing.

I can report, though, that she’s supposedly going to be healthy enough to leave and fly on Monday, since she has plans to leave the country for business, so it must be better than it looks. In any case, she talked with me for over three hours. She was extremely intelligent and a really first-class lady—very well-versed in the issues and up-to-date on multiculturism and discrimination even by US standards. It was an enlightening and thought-provoking afternoon for me. I must say that she dominated the conversation (I am terrible at controlling interviews because I tend to just like to listen, and with someone like this, who was so interesting, it was impossible to interrupt), and I ended up only asking about two of the questions I had planned on, but it was really fascinating stuff. The sad part was that I think she was lonely and very much in need of visitors, which is partially why she was so excited to talk to me. I don’t think she knew it was Thanksgiving (not that it matters to anyone here), but I sort of needed someone to talk to, as well, so it was a good but exhausting afternoon.

At night, my director organized a Thanksgiving dinner for those of us still in Prague and some of her Czech friends. We had most of the traditional food, so I was satiated that way, and it was good company overall. No Packers, but I heard that they won, so that was okay. The best part of the night was that Simon came, and he had a really great time (or so he kept telling me—I think he had more wine than he should have). He asked me when I was leaving, and when I told him at the end of December, he was surprised and got sort of quiet. Later, he mentioned that it was too bad that I’d miss his birthday, and then still later he brought it up again and said that he had already bought me a ticket to this party that the school throws in January, and that it was a pity I wouldn’t be there. I don’t know what changed (we did cook “cow brains” together the night before, which was fun but not that big of an ordeal), but suddenly he likes me and maybe it’s silly but I mention it because it means a lot to me, I guess. Anyway, he also told me that today he’s getting a haircut!! (I don’t know if you recall, but he has huge curly afro-hair right now), but he wouldn’t tell me how he’s getting it cut, only that it involves a black-and-green dye job. I’m not sure whether his parents know any of this (they certainly are campaigning for him to get a haircut, but probably not whatever he’s getting), so it should be interesting when he gets back.

Today I had an interview, facilitated by (translated by) my advisor, with another really amazing woman. This time it was a Roma woman who used to organize a program for training Roma TAs and who now is a special education teacher (in a classroom with children with Autism and other learning disabilities, not with Roma students). We were in a café, and in the middle of our talk, the electricity went out. The “fakt jo” part was that nobody in the café reacted; we all went on talking, etc. just like nothing happened. Eventually, it came back on, but I was in awe of the composure of the group.

Yesterday I was near Andel, a large shopping mall, and I noticed that people were setting up many many stands, presumably for Christmas markets. I was a bit surprised about the location, but since it’s near a mall, I didn’t think twice. Today, however, I found similar set-ups had suddenly appeared in several other “empty” spaces that were not so logical, like right outside a church. This city is exploding with Christmas markets. It’s exciting, but overwhelming.

My friends have all remarked on old ladies here who have dyed their hair pink or blue—a common phenomenon in Prague, according to an inside source (a fellow student’s Czech boyfriend). I finally spotted my first pink-haired woman yesterday, and since then they’ve been everywhere. It’s hilarious, and I guess it’s intentional on their part.

I have a lot to look forward to right now, and suddenly a lot to do. I hope that you all had a Happy Thanksgiving.