Where in the World is Sudie?
Archive for the 'Czech Republic' Category
When we were visiting the Prague Castle a week and a half ago, we ran into a group touring the city via Segway. Ever since that encounter Howard, Erika, and I were determined to ride one. Upon arriving at our apartment yesterday morning we found a Segway shop at the corner, decided it was fate, and made a reservation. The three of us opted for a half hour rental (since anything more would have been obscenely expensive) and spent a glorious chunk of the morning riding around the park. In order to drive a Segway (in a straight line) all you have to do is lean forward; the amount you lean determines how fast you go. It maxes out at 12 miles per hour, and if you try to make it go faster, the Segway will automatically start to lean back (which is the way you stop yourself). To turn, you simply twist the little doohicky on the left handlebar, and you can send yourself spinning (I apologize for lack of correct terminology). This is possibly the best part of riding a Segway. All three of us had a blast, and are now developing reasons to justify a Segway purchase upon returning home.
Read comments (1)It’s hard to believe that our three weeks of teaching English in Olomouc are actually over; they have flown by incredibly fast. Today was our last day in the schools; after watching our students’ final presentations, Erika, Sara, and I had to start saying our goodbyes. My class gave me a gift of a stuffed pig and shamrocks – both symbols of good luck depending on the culture (they must have been listening during Ireland day). Even though we were there for a short time, I feel we did get to know many of our students fairly well, and saying ‘Ahoj’ for the last time was a difficult task.
Of course, it didn’t stop there. I went home to my host family’s house where my empty suitcase awaited me, and spent the afternoon packing before we went to a pizzeria for a farewell dinner. I stuffed myself on Olomouc’s version of Dewey’s, and enjoyed a bottle of wine with my Czech family. Before I moved in, I had worries about three weeks of awkward and limited conversations. However, I found myself with a family I always felt comfortable around, and now leave having formed an amazing friendship with them. They truly make me feel like I have a home here in Olomouc.
After dinner, I met Erika and Sara at the train station where we all dropped our luggage in the storage room, and then our host families took the three of us over to Milos’ house. After some tearful goodbyes on the street, we went inside to spend the rest of the evening with our honorary Czech grandfather. We have visited him about four times since the first week, and have developed quite the reputation for our new skills at making Palacinky. He immediately sent us into the kitchen where we whipped up our final batch, and then we spent the rest of the evening (until it was time to get our taxi to the train station) watching Spain play Russia in the semi-final of the Euro-cup. Milos told us we should boycott Howard and refuse to go to Poland . . . but, alas, 11:00 came and we left for the station to catch our overnight train.
Last summer I spent a month in Prague during the height of tourist season. While I still maintain that it is one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, the constant onslaught of (often obnoxious) visitors left me disenchanted with the city, and I was not eager to return to its crowds. One of the places Prague’s status as a ‘European Hot-Spot’ becomes the most obvious is on the Charles Bridge - the connector between the city’s historic old town and the castle district. During the day, it is almost impossible to make it across the bridge unless you’re an expert at crowd-weaving and elbow throwing. However, it is quite nice at 6:30 in the morning. My friend, Erika, and I maintained our weekly teaching schedule (waking up at 6:15) so that we could be on Charles Bridge by 6:30. Our hostel is located on the castle side of the Vltava River, in a park five minutes away from the base of the bridge. Taking this early-morning walk along the river and across the bridge allowed us to see Prague at its quietest, when there was nothing to distract us from its beauty. This was a moment to fall in love with Prague all over again.
My day only got better with a matinée performance of Solo For Three at Prague’s National Theatre. This is a dance piece inspired by the lives and work of three European musicians: Jacques Brel, Karel Kryl, and Vladimir Vysockij, all of whom share a hauntingly melancholy musical style. I find it almost impossible to describe dance pieces; in my opinion, they are meant to be felt rather than analyzed. It’s art for the soul rather than the mind. This was a performance that grabbed me in the gut as soon as the curtain rose, and didn’t let go until after five rounds of applause.
One of my favorite things to do in the Czech Republic is to stand at the open window of a train as it speeds through the countryside. This always reminds me of my first visit; Prague was the last stop on a three week tour of central Europe I took with my brother and sister-in-law the summer of 2004. I remember my first impressions of this country as we stood at the window of our rather dingy train (a leftover of communism that probably had been untouched since the 1970s). We were taken aback by the simplistic beauty of the countryside, passing fields of wild poppies and undisturbed evergreen forests. Every once in a while a church spire would appear on the horizon and we’d pass through a little village, complete with locals tilling their fields. The Czech Republic and I both stand in very different places than we did four years ago. I now have an incurable case of the travel bug, and much more experience and confidence traveling than I did the summer after I graduated high school. The Czech Republic now has cleaner trains, and plenty of American tourists to take them. It is these moments at train windows, standing amongst other travelers, that I feel the most comfortable in my nomadic state. It is also the time I can remember the Czech Republic as it was when I first fell in love with its beauty and charm.
On Friday night (after spending the afternoon with Miloš) I left Olomouc with my host mom, host sister, and host dog, to spend a relaxing weekend at their cottage in the mountains. Their cottage is in the Sudentenland - a region along the northern borders of Bohemia and Moravia that has been claimed by both Germany and Czechoslovakia/Czech Republic. It’s history is evident in its architecture; the buildings look very similar to those found in Bavaria or the German part of Switzerland, and can only be described as picturesque (especially when visited in the summer while the wild flowers are in full bloom). The first thing I noticed when we pulled up to the cottage was the field of blue and purple and rose colored Lupines growing outside the gate. I knew I had come to the right place . . .
After sleeping in Saturday morning (which was definitely needed after my first week of teaching a rambunctious lot of fifteen-year-olds) we headed to the main tourist attraction of the area. Anna (my host sister) and I tried our luck on the ‘minikarty’ - a pseudo luge where you’re hauled up a hill, and then turned loose to fend for yourself on the way down. I probably fall into the category of timid drivers, braking a little too frequently in an attempt to stay ON the mini-kart. But I can say I made it down the hill with no serious injuries. Afterward, the three of us took the ski lift to the top of the mountain where we enjoyed lunch and a beautiful view before heading back to the cottage for an afternoon nap.
As someone who is ‘high maintenance’ in the sense that I always need to be doing something, I often need someone or something to slow me down. I found that my host family’s home near Jeseník is one of the few places on earth that centers me enough to do just that. . . It reminded me of summers spent at my grandmother’s house in the mountains of North Carolina: I would spend many content hours there with a good book and the porch swing. I could spend many content hours here with a good book and the lupines.
I met Miloš two years ago on my first visit to Olomouc. He is a friend of our professor, Howard, and a Holocaust survivor with an incredible story of strength and persaverance. Every year Howard brings his group of study abroad students to meet Miloš; we had this yearly gathering a week ago, the day after I arrived in Olomouc. Even though I had heard Miloš speak before, his story was still poignant and heartbreaking, and I am still surprised by the ease with which he shares his experience.
Today, we went back to Miloš’ house with a slightly different purpose: to learn the art of making Palačinky. He made us this Czech delicacy last week during our first visit, and we enjoyed them so much we decided we should learn how to make them ourselves. Palačinky are much like French Crépes; you make a thin pancake of flour, milk, and eggs (with a pinch of salt), fill them with jam, roll them (instead of folding them), and top them with powdered sugar. At Miloš’ house, the jam is also homemade with fruit straight from his own garden. Miloš was thrilled to share with us his Palačinky making secrets . . . under one condition: that we eat our product. Thankfully, under his watchful eye, our own product turned out quite well. We didn’t even drop them on the floor while attempting to flip them (using the ’shake the pan and toss’ method of course).
Miloš reminds me of my own grandparents; he is a gracious man eager to share his food and his stories . . . and the three of us were thrilled to be on the receiving end.
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