The Last Prague Blog... Prague Blog... Prague Blog...

All-

So the trip is coming to a close, and I feel like there's so much I haven't written about yet, and so much I haven't done. I'm sorry I haven't written anything recently, but for the past few days my life consisted of writing and editing, which I don't think too many people want to know the mind-numbing details of that. So here's a whole lot of random thoughts I'm cramming in at the end.

First, in addition to cheap beer that can be purchased in your friendly, neighborhood college dormitory vending machine, you can also buy shots of absinth from street vendors selling hot dogs, brats, hamburgers, soda, and beer. And for all the press Amsterdam gets about being this liberal drug haven, pot's legal (ish) here, too. I think it's legal to possess a small amount and use it for personal recreational use, but any kind of distribution is certainly illegal. Yet somehow, everyone who wants it can get it. Hmmm...

Myself, I did not drink any absinth while I was here, which is probably a good thing. However, last night I went out with my roommate Alex and we met up with a friend of his named David. David was very gregarious, one of those life-of-the-party-type people, and decided to buy Ashley and me shots of some weird liquor that I hadn't heard of. He didn't really tell us much about it except that it's distilled from plums and it was 80 percent alcohol. When he came to the table with the shots, he sat the glasses in front of us and said, "Don't smell it." That's a good sign, right...?

The drink wasn't horrible, but I think I'm going to try to stick to stuff that won't potentially blind me.

David also had some coins from Cuba with Che Guevara's face stamped on them. It's the same image you see on all those stupid t-shirts, but it's such a different context. I thought that was interesting, that's all.

Onward...

In Prague, they don't really do coffee the way we do. They drink espresso, which is way to small an amount for me to really enjoy and it makes me way too jittery. But (and this is the other thing I love about our dorm), they have Nes-Cafe machines here, which are vending machines that give you this tiny little plastic cup of some weird coffee concoction that I would normally find abhorrant in the States. But here, four ounces of coffee-flavored water mixed with incredibly sweet hot chocolate is the desiel to my Euro-journalism engine.

(For those of you who have seen my Facebook account, you can tell I'm really proud of that Euro-journalism engine joke...)

Also, I've managed to figure out the communication thing on a very basic level: I've reverted to this mutant form of sign language whenever I speak. I think it helps me get what I want, but I'm sure everyone else thinks I look like an idiot. I had to do my laundry again (by the way, thanks to John and Barb for the awesome washing machine for which I have newly-found appreciation), and asking for the key went like this:

1) Rub clothes vigorously to indicate that you want to clean them.
2) Take room key out of pocket and put it between your fingers like you're unlocking a door
3) Shrug shoulders when the lady at the desk rolls her eyes

I do it for everything now, even when I'm talking to Ashley or Israel or Zach or Mary, and they all are convinced that I am an ass.

I think there are two big things I've noticed, and one was pretty obvious. American culture is incredibly pervasive. There are McDonalds scattered across the city. Our music (or the Brits' music, to be fair) is played more regularly at bars, clubs and restaurants than a lot of Czech music. It's not uncommon to walk past people speaking Czech, but wearing those faux-vintage t-shirts with American catch phrases on them (I actually saw an Atlantic City, NJ shirt, and I got excited...it doesn't take much). A lot of people, especially younger people, speak English well enough for me to function on some semblance of a normal level, which I found very interesting.

Martin explained that to me a little. He said that in Czech elementary schools, children start taking a foreign language in their fifth year of grammar school. Before Communism fell, everyone had to take Russian. But after 1989, the year Martin entered 5th grade, students (and presumably their parents) could choose which language they wanted to study, and many picked English. I didn't follow up on why he or the others chose English, but I'm sure I'll have time to ask them when they get to Missoula.

Here's the second thing I've noticed:

When I was walking through town in Pilsen, Martin and I passed a momument thanking the Americans for liberating the city from Nazi control in 1945. It wasn't something I expected to see at all, especially considering later that night I'd be asked to answer for Bush's radar site proposal, which many Czechs strongly oppose. Actually, I had to answer for a lot of things about my country. Though most of the questions regarded our political climate, people also wanted to know why America has such a problem with obesity, or why we have to pay for college, or what's up with not having beer in the vending machines?

And I did that to the Czechs about their culture and society. I did that to Alex, quizzing him on Belarus (Belarussian?) politics and media. We all instantly asked one another to be experts about our respective homelands, but I'm not sure it's a reasonable request. Sure, I'm interested in U.S. society and politics, but not everybody is. We're not diplomats or experts in sociology or international retlations. We're all just normal, everyday people leading normal, everyday lives; and I don't know about the rest of you, but my day-to-day life in the States isn't anything terribly extraordinary.

So that's pretty much it. If I had it to do over again, the only thing I think I'd do differently is I'd bring a guitar. This is by far the longest time I've gone without playing since I was nine years old, and I miss it terribly. Besides the fact that I like playing, it would've given me some sense of normalcy and home in a place so foreign. And I bet the Czech women totally would totally dig it.

I definitely want to come to Europe (and Prague) again, though I think I'll bone up on languages a bit more the next time. And I have to go with someone. It's pretty draining having to go through the entire day always feeling like a total outsider, and beside just being able to share an experience with friends I care about, my traveling companions (especially Ashley) have provided an outlet for my thoughts and a sanctuary for my insecurities.

Thanks to everyone for keeping up with the blog, and for commenting on my inane ramblings. To all of you in Missoula: Union Club, Monday, shortly after 11:00 p.m. To the rest...

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