Praha 8, or Up Shit Street Without a Map
(written 1/27/07)

I thought I had the perfect Shabbat planned: sleep in, late breakfast, and then going to one of the most famous English bookstores in Prague – the Globe Bookstore. There, I would pass the time with some kava from their attached café, find a new book to read (as I’ve already read through all of my housemates’ books), and spend some valuable time on their free wireless internet. I thought I would have a restful, peaceful Shabbes.

I thought wrong.

I knew that the bookstore wasn’t very close to the metro stop, but I figured it couldn’t be that difficult to find. I must’ve walked around the neighborhood for an hour and a half, occasionally ducking into some secluded doorway or shop for a look at my inconveniently gigantic road map. I had just one problem – my map seemed to disagree with my perception of my location! None of the street names around that metro stop seemed even vaguely familiar, and the one tram that could take me within a block of the store – tram 21 – seemed to not exist! I saw trams 20, 22, 24, and 23, but no 21.

I even asked a few people for directions. One was a British tourist who was as lost as I was, and looking for something completely different. One was a student about my age, but I was terrified to follow her directions because they were so complicated I was afraid I’d end up in the middle of the river if I followed them. One was a woman in a bakery who had never heard of the bookstore, and my pronunciation of the street must’ve been so bad that she waved me away like she didn’t want to be bothered.

Defeated, I slumped back to the metro, although I did stop to buy some more socks on the way. The remainder of my luggage, for those keeping count, is still not here. That makes ten days, but I’m still hoping I’ll get it eventually. Nevertheless, I finally started buying clothes – well, one article of clothing. Since I was alone, and I don’t trust my own judgment when buying clothes or shoes, I only bought a zippered sweater that was very similar to one of the ones I already had.

I rode the metro back to familiar territory – the indefatigable Vaclavske Namesti (Vaclav Square). From there, I went to Fuzion, a café that sits across the street from the CET classrooms. Fuzion has bad coffee, but free wireless internet. I found three kids from my program already upstairs. I sat down with them, and fired up my computer.

I think I managed to send one or two e-mails before the internet started slowing to the speed of a drunk turtle. After an hour of pages refusing to load, my battery died, and I sadly trudged up the hill towards home.

This afternoon, I made myself a promise: that I would work hard to learn Czech, at least enough to get by. I’m sick of not being understood, of having a vocabulary limited to “Please” and “Excuse me, I’m an American student. English?” I’m sick of the way shopkeepers rip me off because I can’t count change fast enough, and because even if I did confront them, I wouldn’t have enough words to argue. I’m sick of hearing dumb American (many of them on my program), British, and German tourists being loud on public transportation. I’m sick of eating at places meant for tourists because I know the waiters will at least have patience with my terrible Czech, or speak English. I hate that people can see me coming, can spot me a mile away, that shopkeepers wave off my attempts to speak, and just talk to me in English because it’s faster. I’m sick of being a foreigner.

On a more political note, You know what’s the big hot-button issue that’s making all the front pages here? Star Wars. Yup, Regan’s program is being resurrected, and Bush is planning to build a missile-detecting radar here. And you know what? Some people are absolutely delighted about it, in case Iran should start launching missiles everywhere for no reason. Those who aren’t happy about it sure aren’t getting represented in any of the three papers I can read.

My Czech teacher, Zdenka, says she hopes that the US will build the radar, because it will improve US/Czech relations. It’s not like the relationship is strained in any way, but it might make it easier for Czechs to come to the US (right now, it’s incredibly difficult for young Czechs to get visas to the US – even tourist visas). As far as my opinion goes – resurrecting Star Wars? Shouldn’t someone have killed that project for good? At least ten years ago?

And finally, I think I have found a good friend. I’ll call her Diana on this blog, and she comes from Virginia, and attends UVA. She’s a member of a fundamentalist Baptist church, but college, she says, has expanded her mind considerably. We get along remarkably well, and she’s the perfect mix of naiveté, optimism, and insecurity to my more cynical, insecure brand of optimism. Did I mention she’s also a Jewish Studies major?

Diana came over last night and I made us curried lentils with plenty of cheap red wine, and sautéed leeks for dinner. Dessert was dark chocolate and delicious conversation for a couple hours, curled up on the ridiculously un-padded and uncomfortable fake leather couch. I even read her some of my poetry, which she applauded, stroking my ego. We talked about our partners, feeling like strangers in a strange land, singing (she’s a choir geek too!), opera, transracial adoption…it was so good.