Just when I think I'm beginning to conquer the Czech Republic, it likes to throw a curve ball and remind me that I'm just a lowly American exchange student. I know my way around the main areas; I can say a few sentences and even clerks and baristas will speak to me in rapid Czech, not noting my horrendous accent.
While I'm comfortable speaking Czech to an extent, my vocabulary doesn't include the word "reroute," hence how I wound up in the middle of NOWHERE while toting an entire department store's worth of groceries. Went food shopping, finally found the cosmetic stuff I needed, and jumped on a tram that I've taken home too many times to count. Of course, it totally blew off my stop, went down another road, and took me somewhere in Prague 5 where there was only a McDonald's around. That's not really what I needed tonight.
Of course, because I'm writing this and am not dead in a ditch somewhere, I made it home. But still. Screw you, tram system. Also, I'm now at the point where 40 degrees is warm. It was so nice outside that I didn't recognize my tram stop coming home from Paris on Monday.
Classes started. Day one was rough because I had literally two hours after landing in Prague to make it to class, and my very first one included two hours on the 12th-century Moravian tribes; I considered how to best poke my eyes out. The World in Prague should be okay, though; considering it's fine arts, literature and history I think I can handle it.
Jewish History was not particularly surprising; the professor terrifies me but in a really good way (if there is such a thing?), and I think I'll learn a lot.
Classroom Europe should be hilarious because the professor, a former ambassador, is hysterical and quite possibly crazy and I kind of want to be best friends with him and talk politics and history all day so maybe the insanely long bus rides around Europe won't suck. But that's just maybe.
Film will be fine because we started with The Unbearable Lightness of Being and the professor is American.
Also? The city of Prague needs to invest in more streetlights because the walk from the tram stop to my dorm could not be creepier if it tried.
London tomorrow! Au revoir, bank account. Bonjour, Phantom sequel.
Special thanks go to: Dad, for assuring me that my flight won't be affected by the now-defunct strike, and Mom, for answering the phone when I was miserably lost
Addendum: As I'm now trying to shove my belongings into my minuscule duffel, I'd like to offer a wholehearted SCREW YOU to EasyJet because their asinine, exploitative baggage policy will be my downfall. Warning, parents: any purchases made between Thursday and Saturday will be shipped to Prague via Royal Air Mail. Thank you for the credit cards. Love, your daughter.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
Paris: "we b in kings chamber"
This past weekend's impromptu trip to Paris was really last minute, like, booked a week before I left. If you know me (and I assume if you're reading this, you do know me), you know that I plan EVERYTHING months in advance, so for me to essentially pick up and go to France was a bit spontaneous.
At first I wasn't considering coming here because I was here before, albeit when I was 10 years old and fairly stupid. Now, I (allegedly) speak some French, I know French history fairly well, and I actually appreciate more than a city having a Pizza Hut branch. It was time to return to Paris.
After a lovely 3:15 a.m. departure from bumblefuck, Prague, my ridiculously short flight landed at CDG and I was en route to Paris! When I was there with my parents we stayed in a hotel outside the city center so we had to take the RER, and I was amazed to find that I remembered some of the same buildings from 2000 (for context, I was there before the Euro existed), including my favorite bibliotheque. Got to Paris, was awed by the breathing room and regular sidewalks, met up with Claudia (who, for the record, is a wonderful, tres magnifique host) and crashed before heading to the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs Elysees.
True to form, I can't go on a trip without some epic quest, and this one's was a move of desperation: I needed Garnier hair gel, something that Prague has yet to embrace. I decided that duh, of course I could find my way in a city whose language I can't really speak and haven't been to since I was 10, so I left Claudia and her other visiting friend and went off to find this mysterious American-British pharmacy that would surely have it.
It took almost three hours, plenty of frustrated calls to my mom for directions (sorry!), and a pit stop at a theatre at the Place de la Madeleine to get tickets for an all-French production of A Doll's House (starring Audrey Tatou!!!!!!) but I found my way there. They didn't have what I was looking for, and what they did have was 13 euros (NOT HAPPENING) but it was fine. It was okay because I got to see the Opera Garnier, which, for those of you who know your Leroux/Lloyd Webber, is the Phantom of the Opera opera house, which means it is fabulous.
Speaking of fabulous, everyone looks perfect all the time and I was too young to pick up on it last time but someone teach me the ways of the Gallic because I want to be able to walk the city in 5-inch heels and not want to die.
Anyway, so I saw the sparkly Eiffel Tower and Audrey Tatou in A Doll's House later that night, and while it was beyond cool to see her onstage (she's just as gorgeous as you'd think she'd be), my French is far worse than I estimated it to be and therefore I only caught words like "merci" and "aussi". But it was Audrey Tatou, and Claudia read me the Wikipedia summary beforehand so I at least knew what was happening onstage, no thanks to the French language.
Saturday morning I went to the Pompidou Centre because that's what Claudia and Lu had done while I was on the quest for hair gel (so guido-sounding, ick). The fifth floor (with all the famous art) was closed for renovations, but the exhibit they had was incredible. It was elles@Pompidou and featured work by female artists, including my personal favorite, a huge collage done by the Guerrilla Girls and also a smaller exhibit of collages by Erro. Afterward I met Claudia at Montmartre to go see Sacre Coeur (so pretty!) and then we went to the plaza, where she contemplated buying a painfully expensive painting and then we went to see the Moulin Rouge in the red light district. Passed a supermarché erotique (complete with shopping carts) and found hair gel FINALLY at Monoprix. We went to the Opera again, where I was easily the chicest person alive because we had coffee at the Cafe de la Paix. We also discovered that Longchamp bags are far cheaper in France than in America (LESSON LEARNED) so any return in the future will include shopping.
Then the biggest event of the trip: le Théâtre du Châtelet's production of A Little Night Music with Leslie Caron. Last June was when I first heard that Kristin Scott Thomas was doing a production of ALNM in Paris for one week only, and I had said (slightly facetiously) that I was going no matter what. Eight months later, I was in Paris and Kristin was the one who didn't show, but it didn't matter. What mattered slightly more was that my seat was directly behind a pole, but who needs to see center stage? Nothing important ever happens there.
No really, the show was one of the most phenomenal productions I've ever seen, and I can finally say that I've seen ALNM. It was also the biggest gathering of Anglophones I'd been in in weeks so it was nice to hear English spoken everywhere. Well-worth the money (by the way, screw the Euro) and something I'll remember forever.
Sunday was the day the history dork in me was waiting for: VERSAILLES. It was SO BIG and didn't feel real, but I can't even explain how excited I was to be there. Not so exciting was the fact that the ticket people had no idea if students entered for free or not so we waited on a thousand lines and argued with people who kept telling us different things but OH MY GOD VERSAILLES. Words can't do it justice. I doubt my pictures can do it justice. But OH MY GOD VERSAILLES. I loved it with every history-loving bone in my body. I can't imagine it being in use 300 years ago which I would've liked by oh my God, Versailles. ALSO: GINGER ALE IS READILY AVAILABLE IN FRANCE. So I chugged a two-liter bottle before coming home. Naturally.
After returning to Paris, Claudia and I went back to St. Michel (we had walked through Notre Dame in the morning) to look for the elusive Point Zéro, which is the exact center of Paris. It took us three times, tons of research, and even mapping it out but we STILL couldn't find it. I love the Latin Quarter and Notre Dame is my Parisian happy place; after all, it was the first part of Paris I saw back when I was 10 and we were exiting the metro station for the first time and it took my breath away, so I was ecstatic to be back there.
Paris was frustrating but in a good way. I guess I over-estimated my French abilities and it's not laid out in the most sensible way (at least to me) but I love it terribly and would love to live there in the future. It's just fabulous. What wasn't fabulous was my flight home.
Left Claudia's apartment this morning at 6 a.m. to get to the airport for my 8:25 flight. Oh, my ticket expired when it shouldn't have. Oh, I'm waiting 20 minutes for a train that should have been there in 3. Oh, the RER decided to take a break and just hang in the suburbs at like 7:15. I checked my bag without a hassle, but it's 8:08 and I'm stuck in the security line from hell and am unable to communicate that my flight leaves in 17 minutes and thank God for the French lady who let me cut her in line and then forced me past a group of businessmen. Oh, wait, that was too positive. My duffel bag ripped somewhere between Paris and Prague so it's only the Tiger Woods issue of Vanity Fair that kept my dirty underwear from spilling all over a Boeing 737 or the Prague airport baggage conveyor belt. That's not too bad or anything, right? Also, my second attempt to get my passport stamped by the French was a miserable failure. THANKS, SCHENGEN AREA.
I was hating on Prague all weekend in Paris because it's always gray and cold and sad but when I got back, it was sunny and I didn't recognize most of the city. Of course, it's always good to see that the mullet didn't go out of style when I leave for the weekend. What's good, though, is that the ice is at a minimum and I didn't fear for my life walking from the tram to my dorm. If anyone thinks that Seasonal Affective Disorder is a lie, it isn't. BRING ON THE SUN.
At first I wasn't considering coming here because I was here before, albeit when I was 10 years old and fairly stupid. Now, I (allegedly) speak some French, I know French history fairly well, and I actually appreciate more than a city having a Pizza Hut branch. It was time to return to Paris.
After a lovely 3:15 a.m. departure from bumblefuck, Prague, my ridiculously short flight landed at CDG and I was en route to Paris! When I was there with my parents we stayed in a hotel outside the city center so we had to take the RER, and I was amazed to find that I remembered some of the same buildings from 2000 (for context, I was there before the Euro existed), including my favorite bibliotheque. Got to Paris, was awed by the breathing room and regular sidewalks, met up with Claudia (who, for the record, is a wonderful, tres magnifique host) and crashed before heading to the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs Elysees.
True to form, I can't go on a trip without some epic quest, and this one's was a move of desperation: I needed Garnier hair gel, something that Prague has yet to embrace. I decided that duh, of course I could find my way in a city whose language I can't really speak and haven't been to since I was 10, so I left Claudia and her other visiting friend and went off to find this mysterious American-British pharmacy that would surely have it.
It took almost three hours, plenty of frustrated calls to my mom for directions (sorry!), and a pit stop at a theatre at the Place de la Madeleine to get tickets for an all-French production of A Doll's House (starring Audrey Tatou!!!!!!) but I found my way there. They didn't have what I was looking for, and what they did have was 13 euros (NOT HAPPENING) but it was fine. It was okay because I got to see the Opera Garnier, which, for those of you who know your Leroux/Lloyd Webber, is the Phantom of the Opera opera house, which means it is fabulous.
Speaking of fabulous, everyone looks perfect all the time and I was too young to pick up on it last time but someone teach me the ways of the Gallic because I want to be able to walk the city in 5-inch heels and not want to die.
Anyway, so I saw the sparkly Eiffel Tower and Audrey Tatou in A Doll's House later that night, and while it was beyond cool to see her onstage (she's just as gorgeous as you'd think she'd be), my French is far worse than I estimated it to be and therefore I only caught words like "merci" and "aussi". But it was Audrey Tatou, and Claudia read me the Wikipedia summary beforehand so I at least knew what was happening onstage, no thanks to the French language.
Saturday morning I went to the Pompidou Centre because that's what Claudia and Lu had done while I was on the quest for hair gel (so guido-sounding, ick). The fifth floor (with all the famous art) was closed for renovations, but the exhibit they had was incredible. It was elles@Pompidou and featured work by female artists, including my personal favorite, a huge collage done by the Guerrilla Girls and also a smaller exhibit of collages by Erro. Afterward I met Claudia at Montmartre to go see Sacre Coeur (so pretty!) and then we went to the plaza, where she contemplated buying a painfully expensive painting and then we went to see the Moulin Rouge in the red light district. Passed a supermarché erotique (complete with shopping carts) and found hair gel FINALLY at Monoprix. We went to the Opera again, where I was easily the chicest person alive because we had coffee at the Cafe de la Paix. We also discovered that Longchamp bags are far cheaper in France than in America (LESSON LEARNED) so any return in the future will include shopping.
Then the biggest event of the trip: le Théâtre du Châtelet's production of A Little Night Music with Leslie Caron. Last June was when I first heard that Kristin Scott Thomas was doing a production of ALNM in Paris for one week only, and I had said (slightly facetiously) that I was going no matter what. Eight months later, I was in Paris and Kristin was the one who didn't show, but it didn't matter. What mattered slightly more was that my seat was directly behind a pole, but who needs to see center stage? Nothing important ever happens there.
No really, the show was one of the most phenomenal productions I've ever seen, and I can finally say that I've seen ALNM. It was also the biggest gathering of Anglophones I'd been in in weeks so it was nice to hear English spoken everywhere. Well-worth the money (by the way, screw the Euro) and something I'll remember forever.
Sunday was the day the history dork in me was waiting for: VERSAILLES. It was SO BIG and didn't feel real, but I can't even explain how excited I was to be there. Not so exciting was the fact that the ticket people had no idea if students entered for free or not so we waited on a thousand lines and argued with people who kept telling us different things but OH MY GOD VERSAILLES. Words can't do it justice. I doubt my pictures can do it justice. But OH MY GOD VERSAILLES. I loved it with every history-loving bone in my body. I can't imagine it being in use 300 years ago which I would've liked by oh my God, Versailles. ALSO: GINGER ALE IS READILY AVAILABLE IN FRANCE. So I chugged a two-liter bottle before coming home. Naturally.
After returning to Paris, Claudia and I went back to St. Michel (we had walked through Notre Dame in the morning) to look for the elusive Point Zéro, which is the exact center of Paris. It took us three times, tons of research, and even mapping it out but we STILL couldn't find it. I love the Latin Quarter and Notre Dame is my Parisian happy place; after all, it was the first part of Paris I saw back when I was 10 and we were exiting the metro station for the first time and it took my breath away, so I was ecstatic to be back there.
Paris was frustrating but in a good way. I guess I over-estimated my French abilities and it's not laid out in the most sensible way (at least to me) but I love it terribly and would love to live there in the future. It's just fabulous. What wasn't fabulous was my flight home.
Left Claudia's apartment this morning at 6 a.m. to get to the airport for my 8:25 flight. Oh, my ticket expired when it shouldn't have. Oh, I'm waiting 20 minutes for a train that should have been there in 3. Oh, the RER decided to take a break and just hang in the suburbs at like 7:15. I checked my bag without a hassle, but it's 8:08 and I'm stuck in the security line from hell and am unable to communicate that my flight leaves in 17 minutes and thank God for the French lady who let me cut her in line and then forced me past a group of businessmen. Oh, wait, that was too positive. My duffel bag ripped somewhere between Paris and Prague so it's only the Tiger Woods issue of Vanity Fair that kept my dirty underwear from spilling all over a Boeing 737 or the Prague airport baggage conveyor belt. That's not too bad or anything, right? Also, my second attempt to get my passport stamped by the French was a miserable failure. THANKS, SCHENGEN AREA.
I was hating on Prague all weekend in Paris because it's always gray and cold and sad but when I got back, it was sunny and I didn't recognize most of the city. Of course, it's always good to see that the mullet didn't go out of style when I leave for the weekend. What's good, though, is that the ice is at a minimum and I didn't fear for my life walking from the tram to my dorm. If anyone thinks that Seasonal Affective Disorder is a lie, it isn't. BRING ON THE SUN.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Munich for Aliens
Stephanie and I went to Germany this weekend, in particular, Munich and Füssen. I can't stress enough how beautiful Germany is- really, I've never seen a place like it. First of all, it's light-years ahead of the Czech Republic in terms of infrastructure; crossing the border via bus was like seeing the Iron Curtain fall. Borders are such an arbitrary thing but it was like a whole new world once we entered Germany. After two weeks trying to get used to Prague, it was a nice vacation from the former Soviet bloc.
We took an overnight bus that left midnight on Friday, getting us into Munich at around 6 on Saturday and got to kill time before we decided to try to find the hostel. Turns out that we were literally a minute from the hostel (right by the central train station, Hauptbahhof) and 10 minutes from Marienplatz, the city center, so we got to explore a bit before heading to Füssen to see Neuschwanstein Castle.
Neuschwanstein was a two-hour train ride away but it was SO worth it because this castle is literally the castle of my dreams. It's in the German Alps and was the inspiration for Cinderella's castle, so despite the uphill walk (no buses because of snow) and major schlep into the countryside, it was totally worth it because the castle is really as beautiful as you'd think it would be. We didn't go inside but I know I'll go back someday. I'd dreamed of seeing the castle in person for quite some time so I really can't explain how it made me feel.
Stephanie and I got free welcome drinks from the hostel (by the way, if any of my darling readers are going to Munich, Berlin or Vienna in the future, STAY AT WOMBAT'S) and we started taking advantage of happy hour a bit too much, but at least we were warm as we wandered around Munich. Went back to Marienplatz, wandered aimlessly around from store to store, and then tried to find Prinz Myshkin, this vegetarian restaurant I had read about. It took a few missed turns and a lot of asking for help (people even offered right off the bad- did we really look that lost/American?) but eventually we found it and, um, best restaurant of my life. Really. They even have tap water, which is outrageously rare in Europe.
From there we went on to find the Hofbräuhaus, which is where Hitler declared the theses of the Nazi Party and so on and so forth. Really huge, REALLY German, and totally packed-- thanks, football game. We tried to find a spot at the Hard Rock but that was completely packed too, so we gave up and headed back to the hostel, which, luckily, had a bar and cheap drinks... REALLY cheap drinks. We met a ton of guys from Germany and Spain but sadly no Brits.
On Sunday, Stephanie and I headed to the Olympic stadium where I gave her an impromptu, slightly bastardized history lesson on the hostage crisis of the '72 Olympics. We saw the stadium (so much smaller in person than you'd think it would be) and then the Olympic Village where the crisis actually happened. We ran back to the hostel to try to catch the 11 a.m. walking tour which - surprise! - had been canceled. We hustled off to Dachau with the intent of making it back in time for the 1 p.m. tour. Of course, that was a bust.
Dachau was particularly weird. The weather was fittingly horrible but not in the way that it was during Majdanek. Dachau was just white and bleak and terrible, not in a melodramatic way that Majdanek was but in a very eerie, very realistic way. We didn't get to see the museum or the film, but we walked around the camp. Visiting a concentration camp is never easy, but Dachau was particularly bad in that respect. Seeing the crematorium was really, really rough in a way that again I can't explain. It provoked a really visceral reaction, chills, discomfort, the whole nine yards. I also felt extremely uncomfortable riding on the train to Dachau; I guess I was thinking of the thousands of others who didn't really have a choice about going.
I got to play with a dog, though. That was a plus.
After that, we went back to Marienplatz with the intent of going to the huge bookstore and using their guide books to plan our own walking tour. What we didn't know is that all retail establishments in the south of Germany are closed on Sundays, even in a large city like Munich.
What we also didn't know was that Carnival (or "Fasching," in German) is HUGE in Munich. Everyone in Marienplatz was wearing costumes and throwing confetti and it was a humongous, unexpected party with bands and drum lines and concerts and a million and one food carts. I'm going to steal the description from a different site: "One of the biggest events of the season is Mad Munich ('Munchen Harrisch') on the last Sunday before Shrove Tuesday. During the celebrations thousands of dancers and revellers in fancy dress make their way through the streets to Marienplatz where there are several stages as well as numerous food and drink stalls." It was really amazing to see, especially because we had no idea it was going on and because I wasn't able to get to Venice for Carnevale as I had originally planned. It was amazing to see the normally reserved Germans just running around in costumes.
From there we started trying to hustle and do touristy things, especially as it was our second and final day in Germany. We found the Jewish Museum, which I did alone (Stephanie was really budget-conscious), and it was a really weird experience. It's a very small museum that doesn't feature much in the way of artifacts, and I thought that was weird until a sign explained why (and I feel stupid for not remembering): Hitler & co. destroyed everything during the Holocaust. Duh. The museum also explained different facets of Judaism in museum form - explanations of Shabbat and holidays and so on - so to realize that I was likely one of the few Jewish visitors it was seeing was odd and cool simultaneously.
We headed to Odeonplatz afterward, where we saw the Residenz (a massive palace complex), the National Theatre (really beautiful) and Feldhernhalle, where Hitler held a ton of rallies. Germany is very good about preserving its history, even the really dark parts- relics of World War II are all over the place if you know where to look. From there we went to Konigsplatz (couldn't find what I was looking for) and back to the Hofbräuhaus, where, lo and behold, we got a table! I still can't drink beer for the life of me, but we got strudel and gigantic pretzels. Very Teutonic of us, wish I had been wearing a dirndl as I ate there.
To be honest, I really miss Munich. It was blended history and modernism very well and was clean, spacious, and efficient. It's hard to be back in Prague, which I certainly like and think is beautiful, but I find Prague very frustrating at times-- the timely but slow public transportation system, the language barrier, the feeling of being cramped, the closure of everything around 8 p.m., etc. I guess traveling agrees with me more than being stuck in one place.
There will be pictures soon, I swear.
We took an overnight bus that left midnight on Friday, getting us into Munich at around 6 on Saturday and got to kill time before we decided to try to find the hostel. Turns out that we were literally a minute from the hostel (right by the central train station, Hauptbahhof) and 10 minutes from Marienplatz, the city center, so we got to explore a bit before heading to Füssen to see Neuschwanstein Castle.
Neuschwanstein was a two-hour train ride away but it was SO worth it because this castle is literally the castle of my dreams. It's in the German Alps and was the inspiration for Cinderella's castle, so despite the uphill walk (no buses because of snow) and major schlep into the countryside, it was totally worth it because the castle is really as beautiful as you'd think it would be. We didn't go inside but I know I'll go back someday. I'd dreamed of seeing the castle in person for quite some time so I really can't explain how it made me feel.
Stephanie and I got free welcome drinks from the hostel (by the way, if any of my darling readers are going to Munich, Berlin or Vienna in the future, STAY AT WOMBAT'S) and we started taking advantage of happy hour a bit too much, but at least we were warm as we wandered around Munich. Went back to Marienplatz, wandered aimlessly around from store to store, and then tried to find Prinz Myshkin, this vegetarian restaurant I had read about. It took a few missed turns and a lot of asking for help (people even offered right off the bad- did we really look that lost/American?) but eventually we found it and, um, best restaurant of my life. Really. They even have tap water, which is outrageously rare in Europe.
From there we went on to find the Hofbräuhaus, which is where Hitler declared the theses of the Nazi Party and so on and so forth. Really huge, REALLY German, and totally packed-- thanks, football game. We tried to find a spot at the Hard Rock but that was completely packed too, so we gave up and headed back to the hostel, which, luckily, had a bar and cheap drinks... REALLY cheap drinks. We met a ton of guys from Germany and Spain but sadly no Brits.
On Sunday, Stephanie and I headed to the Olympic stadium where I gave her an impromptu, slightly bastardized history lesson on the hostage crisis of the '72 Olympics. We saw the stadium (so much smaller in person than you'd think it would be) and then the Olympic Village where the crisis actually happened. We ran back to the hostel to try to catch the 11 a.m. walking tour which - surprise! - had been canceled. We hustled off to Dachau with the intent of making it back in time for the 1 p.m. tour. Of course, that was a bust.
Dachau was particularly weird. The weather was fittingly horrible but not in the way that it was during Majdanek. Dachau was just white and bleak and terrible, not in a melodramatic way that Majdanek was but in a very eerie, very realistic way. We didn't get to see the museum or the film, but we walked around the camp. Visiting a concentration camp is never easy, but Dachau was particularly bad in that respect. Seeing the crematorium was really, really rough in a way that again I can't explain. It provoked a really visceral reaction, chills, discomfort, the whole nine yards. I also felt extremely uncomfortable riding on the train to Dachau; I guess I was thinking of the thousands of others who didn't really have a choice about going.
I got to play with a dog, though. That was a plus.
After that, we went back to Marienplatz with the intent of going to the huge bookstore and using their guide books to plan our own walking tour. What we didn't know is that all retail establishments in the south of Germany are closed on Sundays, even in a large city like Munich.
What we also didn't know was that Carnival (or "Fasching," in German) is HUGE in Munich. Everyone in Marienplatz was wearing costumes and throwing confetti and it was a humongous, unexpected party with bands and drum lines and concerts and a million and one food carts. I'm going to steal the description from a different site: "One of the biggest events of the season is Mad Munich ('Munchen Harrisch') on the last Sunday before Shrove Tuesday. During the celebrations thousands of dancers and revellers in fancy dress make their way through the streets to Marienplatz where there are several stages as well as numerous food and drink stalls." It was really amazing to see, especially because we had no idea it was going on and because I wasn't able to get to Venice for Carnevale as I had originally planned. It was amazing to see the normally reserved Germans just running around in costumes.
From there we started trying to hustle and do touristy things, especially as it was our second and final day in Germany. We found the Jewish Museum, which I did alone (Stephanie was really budget-conscious), and it was a really weird experience. It's a very small museum that doesn't feature much in the way of artifacts, and I thought that was weird until a sign explained why (and I feel stupid for not remembering): Hitler & co. destroyed everything during the Holocaust. Duh. The museum also explained different facets of Judaism in museum form - explanations of Shabbat and holidays and so on - so to realize that I was likely one of the few Jewish visitors it was seeing was odd and cool simultaneously.
We headed to Odeonplatz afterward, where we saw the Residenz (a massive palace complex), the National Theatre (really beautiful) and Feldhernhalle, where Hitler held a ton of rallies. Germany is very good about preserving its history, even the really dark parts- relics of World War II are all over the place if you know where to look. From there we went to Konigsplatz (couldn't find what I was looking for) and back to the Hofbräuhaus, where, lo and behold, we got a table! I still can't drink beer for the life of me, but we got strudel and gigantic pretzels. Very Teutonic of us, wish I had been wearing a dirndl as I ate there.
To be honest, I really miss Munich. It was blended history and modernism very well and was clean, spacious, and efficient. It's hard to be back in Prague, which I certainly like and think is beautiful, but I find Prague very frustrating at times-- the timely but slow public transportation system, the language barrier, the feeling of being cramped, the closure of everything around 8 p.m., etc. I guess traveling agrees with me more than being stuck in one place.
There will be pictures soon, I swear.
Friday, February 12, 2010
I PLAYED WITH A DOG.
This requires its own post because I FINALLY PLAYED WITH A DOG and we cuddled and he jumped up and kissed me and it was wonderful and oh my God I miss Jake terribly and this dog was a two-year-old black lab and we snuggled and played and I'm obsessed.
Also: apparently ripped money is unacceptable here. THANKS, ATM.
Also: apparently ripped money is unacceptable here. THANKS, ATM.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
"It's snowing on my potato chips."
So a lot of stuff happened over the past few days.
First: Czech intensive started. It's essentially four and a half hours of nothing but Czech every day, which sounds horrific and can be at times especially when we're taught words without vowels, but I really like the other people and the teacher doesn't seem to think that I'm too stupid. I also feel a lot more comfortable now that I can identify words around the city (dům knihy)and not sound completely retarded when I try to order something. I've also perfected a scowl so people think I'm Czech. In fact, when I'm not in a large group, more people speak to me in rapid Czech than English, so points for the fact that I'm kind of blending in.
Second: I SAW LINDA EDER LIVE. It's not like I wore out my copy of the concept cast recording of The Scarlet Pimpernel when I was younger or anything, or that I watched her version of "Man of La Mancha" from My Favorite Broadway: The Leading Ladies a grand total of four thousand times, so seeing her (and meeting her) was no big deal. Not at all. I don't know what work she had done, but she looks great.
PBS was filming a concert special called "Halleluiah Broadway" at this old church in the Jewish Quarter, so Stephanie and I went and took advantage of the free tickets and open bar. I think every American in Europe was at the concert but really, who else would turn out for a show that included Godpsell and Joseph medleys? Only Americans. I sucked it up at the end and went to talk to her, and the picture is heinous and I'm sure I sounded outrageously stupid but it was outrageously cool.
Third: I saw my first opera last night at the National Theatre, Rusalka by Dvořák. I knew it was essentially The Little Mermaid but it was really that plus orgies and death. So, yeah, typical opera. I wasn't too under-dressed in my jeans and basic black everything so I'm glad I didn't rush out and buy new clothes. I'm not a huge fan of Czech opera (to quote Amadeus, "Italian is the proper language for opera. All educated people agree on that.") but all the performers were supremely talented and it was very cool to see a very modern production such as Rusalka. I can't wait until the Mozart operas start at the Estates Theatre, where he premiered Don Giovanni in the 18th century. Thank God for subtitles too or else I would've been totally lost. I don't know if the translation was screwed up or something but there were some pretty hilarious lines sung repeatedly: "I have a beautiful body" (over and over and over) and then my personal favorite, sung by the King Triton character: "My realm is very lovely and there are plenty of goldfish."
Fourth: So the attempt to finally make it to Chapeau Rouge was a complete bust. I was going out with some of the girls from my Czech class, but at midnight, the trams change routes and it gets very confusing. We kind of completely miss Old Town Square (but not for lack of trying) and wind up, oddly enough, at Dejvická, where, coincidentally, the other group of American students live. So around 1 a.m., not knowing anywhere else to go, we crash their dorm, which is an absolute palace compared to ours. THEY HAVE A BAR DOWNSTAIRS. It was absurd. Around 2 a.m. we vacate the premises with the promise that the 51 tram will take us to Old Town but, um, we're heading toward the western edge of the city and that's not where we need to be going. I finally ask two police officers at the back of the tram for directions in not-completely-terrible Czech and they point us in the right direction, which requires a transfer back in the center of town that we just BARELY caught.
Fifth: Today was finally laundry day. The Kolej, in all its Soviet splendor, was notorious for bad laundry facilities, but holy shit, this went to a whole new level. I had to sign up for a time (7 a.m. after getting to bed at 4) so I went into the room, could not figure out the machines for the life of me, and had to drag the lovely Katie out of bed to help me figure it out. Of course the machines have no writing on them, only vague and confusing little symbols, so we had no idea what we were doing. Things didn't wash, the dryer didn't work, and five hours later, I'm sitting with a laundry bag of damp clothes on my bed.
Now for my G/B/S, which I'm going to try to make a feature of on this blog because this trip is all about being productive and not whining too much.
Good: I have clean underwear.
Bad: It took 5 hours and a lot of broken, badly mangled Czech to get.
Solution: LAUNDROMAT.
Oh, there was also a TON of snow last night and I didn't fall! Gold star.
Up next: MUNICH. Deutschland Deutschland Deutschland. JA.
First: Czech intensive started. It's essentially four and a half hours of nothing but Czech every day, which sounds horrific and can be at times especially when we're taught words without vowels, but I really like the other people and the teacher doesn't seem to think that I'm too stupid. I also feel a lot more comfortable now that I can identify words around the city (dům knihy)and not sound completely retarded when I try to order something. I've also perfected a scowl so people think I'm Czech. In fact, when I'm not in a large group, more people speak to me in rapid Czech than English, so points for the fact that I'm kind of blending in.
Second: I SAW LINDA EDER LIVE. It's not like I wore out my copy of the concept cast recording of The Scarlet Pimpernel when I was younger or anything, or that I watched her version of "Man of La Mancha" from My Favorite Broadway: The Leading Ladies a grand total of four thousand times, so seeing her (and meeting her) was no big deal. Not at all. I don't know what work she had done, but she looks great.
PBS was filming a concert special called "Halleluiah Broadway" at this old church in the Jewish Quarter, so Stephanie and I went and took advantage of the free tickets and open bar. I think every American in Europe was at the concert but really, who else would turn out for a show that included Godpsell and Joseph medleys? Only Americans. I sucked it up at the end and went to talk to her, and the picture is heinous and I'm sure I sounded outrageously stupid but it was outrageously cool.
Third: I saw my first opera last night at the National Theatre, Rusalka by Dvořák. I knew it was essentially The Little Mermaid but it was really that plus orgies and death. So, yeah, typical opera. I wasn't too under-dressed in my jeans and basic black everything so I'm glad I didn't rush out and buy new clothes. I'm not a huge fan of Czech opera (to quote Amadeus, "Italian is the proper language for opera. All educated people agree on that.") but all the performers were supremely talented and it was very cool to see a very modern production such as Rusalka. I can't wait until the Mozart operas start at the Estates Theatre, where he premiered Don Giovanni in the 18th century. Thank God for subtitles too or else I would've been totally lost. I don't know if the translation was screwed up or something but there were some pretty hilarious lines sung repeatedly: "I have a beautiful body" (over and over and over) and then my personal favorite, sung by the King Triton character: "My realm is very lovely and there are plenty of goldfish."
Fourth: So the attempt to finally make it to Chapeau Rouge was a complete bust. I was going out with some of the girls from my Czech class, but at midnight, the trams change routes and it gets very confusing. We kind of completely miss Old Town Square (but not for lack of trying) and wind up, oddly enough, at Dejvická, where, coincidentally, the other group of American students live. So around 1 a.m., not knowing anywhere else to go, we crash their dorm, which is an absolute palace compared to ours. THEY HAVE A BAR DOWNSTAIRS. It was absurd. Around 2 a.m. we vacate the premises with the promise that the 51 tram will take us to Old Town but, um, we're heading toward the western edge of the city and that's not where we need to be going. I finally ask two police officers at the back of the tram for directions in not-completely-terrible Czech and they point us in the right direction, which requires a transfer back in the center of town that we just BARELY caught.
Fifth: Today was finally laundry day. The Kolej, in all its Soviet splendor, was notorious for bad laundry facilities, but holy shit, this went to a whole new level. I had to sign up for a time (7 a.m. after getting to bed at 4) so I went into the room, could not figure out the machines for the life of me, and had to drag the lovely Katie out of bed to help me figure it out. Of course the machines have no writing on them, only vague and confusing little symbols, so we had no idea what we were doing. Things didn't wash, the dryer didn't work, and five hours later, I'm sitting with a laundry bag of damp clothes on my bed.
Now for my G/B/S, which I'm going to try to make a feature of on this blog because this trip is all about being productive and not whining too much.
Good: I have clean underwear.
Bad: It took 5 hours and a lot of broken, badly mangled Czech to get.
Solution: LAUNDROMAT.
Oh, there was also a TON of snow last night and I didn't fall! Gold star.
Up next: MUNICH. Deutschland Deutschland Deutschland. JA.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Who's the biggest cliche in Central Europe?
Things I'm doing now:
- sitting in a cafe in the Globe, the big English-language bookstore in Prague
- drinking espresso
- listening to Mozart
- looking up opera tickets/ways to get to Paris
- attempting to look like a black-clad Euro-intellectual bad ass
Quote of the day: "I feel like I've been gang-raped by sumo wrestlers."- Hot British guy at table next to mine
ALSO: Why is the Super Bowl such a big deal here and not the Puppy Bowl? I'm serious. The Czechs love dogs and I'd be so down for a Puppy Bowl party. Someone needs to get on that.
ALSO: Everyone needs to look up the story of Jan Weiner , the house mother's husband and general bad ass. A national hero lives in my dorm, no big deal or anything.
ALSO: I'm feeling a little like
in a way because it's like the first part of the series finale where she's super excited to wander around Paris but there's no one to really hang out with. Merde.
- sitting in a cafe in the Globe, the big English-language bookstore in Prague
- drinking espresso
- listening to Mozart
- looking up opera tickets/ways to get to Paris
- attempting to look like a black-clad Euro-intellectual bad ass
Quote of the day: "I feel like I've been gang-raped by sumo wrestlers."- Hot British guy at table next to mine
ALSO: Why is the Super Bowl such a big deal here and not the Puppy Bowl? I'm serious. The Czechs love dogs and I'd be so down for a Puppy Bowl party. Someone needs to get on that.
ALSO: Everyone needs to look up the story of Jan Weiner , the house mother's husband and general bad ass. A national hero lives in my dorm, no big deal or anything.
ALSO: I'm feeling a little like
in a way because it's like the first part of the series finale where she's super excited to wander around Paris but there's no one to really hang out with. Merde.
Friday, February 5, 2010
You take the good, you take the bad, and then you have Sarah in Prague...
Good news: I have no problem with doing stuff and going places on my own.
Bad news: That amounts to me being antisocial. Which is not what I'm aiming for, obviously, but if I want to go to a movie or to a cafe or to a mall or museum I won't sit around and wait for someone to want to go with me. If I know how to get there, I'm fine with going on my own. Which, again, amounts to me being antisocial, which I don't want.
I don't know what to do- I don't have the stamina to go out every night nor do I want to be a loner but I can't seem to find a happy medium. I don't want to be "that girl" but I also don't know what to do because groups seem to have formed long ago.
Solution: Wallow?
Okay, to continue...
Good news: I found the main English-language bookstore in Prague.
Bad news: They marked up the prices by like 349384%.
Solution: Order stuff online.
Good news: I found the big art house movie theatre in Prague.
Bad news: It's, like, 45 minutes away in a weird, semi-sketchy part of Prague.
Solution: Suck it up because girl cannot live on Avatar alone and the ticket was like $4.
Good news: I found a place that will cash traveler's checks without making me cry or giving me an ulcer.
Bad news: I'm blowing through money like crazy.
Solution: Never leave my room again?
Also: my mom doesn't want to be mentioned in here again unless it's for something positive, so gold star goes to my mom for giving me the address of the movie theatre. Of course, the calls/charges could have been avoided had I been given an internet-equipped phone...
Bad news: That amounts to me being antisocial. Which is not what I'm aiming for, obviously, but if I want to go to a movie or to a cafe or to a mall or museum I won't sit around and wait for someone to want to go with me. If I know how to get there, I'm fine with going on my own. Which, again, amounts to me being antisocial, which I don't want.
I don't know what to do- I don't have the stamina to go out every night nor do I want to be a loner but I can't seem to find a happy medium. I don't want to be "that girl" but I also don't know what to do because groups seem to have formed long ago.
Solution: Wallow?
Okay, to continue...
Good news: I found the main English-language bookstore in Prague.
Bad news: They marked up the prices by like 349384%.
Solution: Order stuff online.
Good news: I found the big art house movie theatre in Prague.
Bad news: It's, like, 45 minutes away in a weird, semi-sketchy part of Prague.
Solution: Suck it up because girl cannot live on Avatar alone and the ticket was like $4.
Good news: I found a place that will cash traveler's checks without making me cry or giving me an ulcer.
Bad news: I'm blowing through money like crazy.
Solution: Never leave my room again?
Also: my mom doesn't want to be mentioned in here again unless it's for something positive, so gold star goes to my mom for giving me the address of the movie theatre. Of course, the calls/charges could have been avoided had I been given an internet-equipped phone...
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Lesson of the day
Living in Prague has tipped me off to quite a few things- the city's layout will never make sense no matter how long I think about it, Czech will never get easier, and God help you if you come with all your money locked up in traveler's checks.
This point leads me to the lesson of the day: DO NOT TAKE TRAVELER'S CHECKS WITH YOU. ANYWHERE. NO MATTER HOW OBSESSED YOUR MOTHER IS WITH THEM, IT IS NOT 1974 AND NO ONE IS BACKPACKING AND GETTING PACKAGES AT THE AMEX OFFICE, SO DO NOT TAKE TRAVELER'S CHECKS.
I wrote before about how I got painfully assaulted by the exchange rate because I used traveler's checks when I had to get cash before, and since money doesn't grow on trees, I had to exchange two or three more. So I go to KB Bank, no big deal, and sign a check.
Oh wait, the teller doesn't think my signatures are identical (THEY ARE) and won't let me cash them, rendering them void because you need to sign the checks in front of a teller so they can approve them. So, you know, I start crying and protesting and the English-speaking asshole they drag over to talk to me is no help. So, crying, I yell at my mother and generally panic because it is gross outside and I'm broke and oh hey, $100 is essentially void. So after an hour of walking around Wenceslas Square on the advice of the friendly guy at AmEx (oh, by the way, the Prague branch doesn't allow you to change money there. This is what months of my mother's obsessive research got me), I have a breakdown in the trashy New Yorker store and am forced to traverse Prague and find the one lone Citibank branch. The employees there are super nice and sympathetic but after a two-hour ordeal that included calling my mother crying and being given nonsensical directions to a magical mystery bank branch assuming that Prague's layout makes sense and that of course I know where a random street is, I freak out, go shopping, and go to dinner and a movie. Because on day five, I should be considered an expert on all things Prague. Obviously. And just because I'm in freaking Central Europe doesn't mean I can't recreate my moping rituals like at home.
So, in conclusion: THANKS MOM.
This point leads me to the lesson of the day: DO NOT TAKE TRAVELER'S CHECKS WITH YOU. ANYWHERE. NO MATTER HOW OBSESSED YOUR MOTHER IS WITH THEM, IT IS NOT 1974 AND NO ONE IS BACKPACKING AND GETTING PACKAGES AT THE AMEX OFFICE, SO DO NOT TAKE TRAVELER'S CHECKS.
I wrote before about how I got painfully assaulted by the exchange rate because I used traveler's checks when I had to get cash before, and since money doesn't grow on trees, I had to exchange two or three more. So I go to KB Bank, no big deal, and sign a check.
Oh wait, the teller doesn't think my signatures are identical (THEY ARE) and won't let me cash them, rendering them void because you need to sign the checks in front of a teller so they can approve them. So, you know, I start crying and protesting and the English-speaking asshole they drag over to talk to me is no help. So, crying, I yell at my mother and generally panic because it is gross outside and I'm broke and oh hey, $100 is essentially void. So after an hour of walking around Wenceslas Square on the advice of the friendly guy at AmEx (oh, by the way, the Prague branch doesn't allow you to change money there. This is what months of my mother's obsessive research got me), I have a breakdown in the trashy New Yorker store and am forced to traverse Prague and find the one lone Citibank branch. The employees there are super nice and sympathetic but after a two-hour ordeal that included calling my mother crying and being given nonsensical directions to a magical mystery bank branch assuming that Prague's layout makes sense and that of course I know where a random street is, I freak out, go shopping, and go to dinner and a movie. Because on day five, I should be considered an expert on all things Prague. Obviously. And just because I'm in freaking Central Europe doesn't mean I can't recreate my moping rituals like at home.
So, in conclusion: THANKS MOM.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Ra ra Praha ha
Sometimes it's hard to believe that I actually live in this city. It's just BEAUTIFUL - really, just absolutely gorgeous. I can't believe that people live in a city like this and walk by castles and centuries-old monasteries and churches and so on. You're on the tram and it's like hey, there's a castle, no big deal or anything. But it is kind of a big deal, because I come from Florida, which is a wasteland. Sometimes I wonder just what I'm doing in Prague, because it's just so different from any place I've ever been before.
Living here's getting easier. I've kind of mastered the metro if not the tram, and I can at least get myself to Wenceslas Square and back without too much effort. I've had to go to the main branch of a bank to set up an account because my traveler's checks are absolutely worthless (and because I know you're reading this, THANKS MOM)and then go get my public transportation pass, and pick up my tickets for the Swell Season, AND see the Swell Season, so if nothing else I can get to Wenceslas Square.
The Swell Season were AMAZING live. I'm not that familiar with too many of their songs but it was so easy to get into, and I think I nearly had a conniption when they played "Falling Slowly," but they were just great all around. I couldn't believe that I'm standing at the back of a concert hall in freaking Prague watching an incredible band perform. Like, really, I'm in Prague, not Coral Gables and certainly not Coral Springs.
Yesterday we went to Terezin. I ran into a boy who had also gone on the March from Dallas, and it was very nice to see a familiar face. Terezin was definitely heavy- a much smaller camp than Auschwitz and Majdanek (I think?) but it's hard to compare them. Going to the camps never gets easier, though I never thought it would, or even that it should. It still never feels real, and that's a little weird- if it doesn't feel real it becomes easier to deny, which is horrible. Almost had an onion attack, definitely not fun.
Today we went to Lidice, which was a village that the Nazis razed (and whose inhabitants the Nazis murdered) in retaliation for the assassination of Heydrich. It was very intense and elicited kind of conflicting emotions. I mean, thank God Heydrich was killed, but the horrible cost... thousands of people were killed just because of it. It was cool to see the crypt where the assassins hid out (right by Frank Gehry's Dancing Building in Prague 5) and the village of Lidice was beautiful-- really bright sun, really deep snow, and just open space. It's weird to think of a town once being there but it was really very interesting. I'm very glad I went.
I can't wait to meet new people. I love the Miami people but I'd love to just meet new people, Czechs, expats, whatever. I'm kind of concerned I'm going to just stay in the bubble or become a loner, but whatever. I'm perfectly comfortable with walking around by myself if I know where I'm going so whatever, that's cool. I just wish I could pet some of the dogs here. THERE ARE SO MANY DOGS. They're on leashes, they're off, they go on the metro and trams and into restaurants and stores and they're SO WELL TRAINED. I miss Jake terribly and I just want to get my ya-yas out and play with a dog but it's not kosher to just go up and ask someone if I can pet their dog, prosim.
I really want to go to the theatre here but unfortunately nearly everything is in Czech, and considering my vocabulary's limited to thanks and no onions, that's kind of out. Maybe I'll go to an opera or something. I'm probably staying in Prague this weekend since I'm not sure if I'm okay with traveling by myself to Munich but we'll see.
I'm reading The Unbearable Lightness of Being and I love it. I'm such a cliche.
Living here's getting easier. I've kind of mastered the metro if not the tram, and I can at least get myself to Wenceslas Square and back without too much effort. I've had to go to the main branch of a bank to set up an account because my traveler's checks are absolutely worthless (and because I know you're reading this, THANKS MOM)and then go get my public transportation pass, and pick up my tickets for the Swell Season, AND see the Swell Season, so if nothing else I can get to Wenceslas Square.
The Swell Season were AMAZING live. I'm not that familiar with too many of their songs but it was so easy to get into, and I think I nearly had a conniption when they played "Falling Slowly," but they were just great all around. I couldn't believe that I'm standing at the back of a concert hall in freaking Prague watching an incredible band perform. Like, really, I'm in Prague, not Coral Gables and certainly not Coral Springs.
Yesterday we went to Terezin. I ran into a boy who had also gone on the March from Dallas, and it was very nice to see a familiar face. Terezin was definitely heavy- a much smaller camp than Auschwitz and Majdanek (I think?) but it's hard to compare them. Going to the camps never gets easier, though I never thought it would, or even that it should. It still never feels real, and that's a little weird- if it doesn't feel real it becomes easier to deny, which is horrible. Almost had an onion attack, definitely not fun.
Today we went to Lidice, which was a village that the Nazis razed (and whose inhabitants the Nazis murdered) in retaliation for the assassination of Heydrich. It was very intense and elicited kind of conflicting emotions. I mean, thank God Heydrich was killed, but the horrible cost... thousands of people were killed just because of it. It was cool to see the crypt where the assassins hid out (right by Frank Gehry's Dancing Building in Prague 5) and the village of Lidice was beautiful-- really bright sun, really deep snow, and just open space. It's weird to think of a town once being there but it was really very interesting. I'm very glad I went.
I can't wait to meet new people. I love the Miami people but I'd love to just meet new people, Czechs, expats, whatever. I'm kind of concerned I'm going to just stay in the bubble or become a loner, but whatever. I'm perfectly comfortable with walking around by myself if I know where I'm going so whatever, that's cool. I just wish I could pet some of the dogs here. THERE ARE SO MANY DOGS. They're on leashes, they're off, they go on the metro and trams and into restaurants and stores and they're SO WELL TRAINED. I miss Jake terribly and I just want to get my ya-yas out and play with a dog but it's not kosher to just go up and ask someone if I can pet their dog, prosim.
I really want to go to the theatre here but unfortunately nearly everything is in Czech, and considering my vocabulary's limited to thanks and no onions, that's kind of out. Maybe I'll go to an opera or something. I'm probably staying in Prague this weekend since I'm not sure if I'm okay with traveling by myself to Munich but we'll see.
I'm reading The Unbearable Lightness of Being and I love it. I'm such a cliche.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)