Tourist Town

Prague –a city of mesmerizingly beautiful Baroque architecture and winding cobble stoned streets—is a continuous swarm of obnoxious tourists. When describing this swarm of “obnoxious” and “touristy” type persons, one may as well throw an additional adjective into the mix: American. Seven times out of ten, (I reserve the other three spots for Japanese, Germans, and the English) it’s true.

The Junior Fulbrighters working/studying/teaching in Poland have fallen into a routine: we like to rendezvous roughly once a month, for the sake of our own sanity. Randomly, we chose to adventure to Prague (or Praha for those wanting to be totally correct), where one can spend “Czech bits,” wander the “Chucky Bridge,” and concoct a continuing stream of “Czech me out” jokes. We spent the better part of the weekend assimilating into this “tourist society” while attempting to keep the “obnoxious factor” to a minimum. After all, sarcasm seems to be our forte.

Since there were six participants in this stomp across the southern Polska boarder, we chose to rent an apartment for the weekend, complete with an actual oven and a TV/DVD combo. Somewhere in the ruckus of “artistically” interpreting a Mr. T Spanish-dubbed infomercial, discussing of the cannibalistic habits of barnyard animals, and Leanne tumbling down the stairs—cup of coffee in hand—it became apparent that we had become a misfit group of siblings. Just six months ago, my Fulbright friends were nothing more than a list of names in an e-mail attachment. Today, I consider them my Polish family; as corny as it sounds, it’s the best way to describe the dynamic.

Ok--I know what you're thinking: "enough yammering about how you've find people who also enjoy Communist architecture and consonant clusters. Where the hell are the pictures?!?" Here goes...

The culprits: Poznań Maggie, Fulbrighter Leanne of unwilling Kielce association, Ali-- Katowice dweller and protector of two spoiled cats, ETA Elizabeth, and Warsaw Mike aka Thoreauski. MIA: Gdańsk Jennifer and her ability to recall historical names most cannot even pronounce.

Leanne, Jennifer and I met in Katowice on Thursday night and spent the night at Ali's flat (after which, all of my things were covered in cat hair--the kitties are sweet, but they leave too much to remember them by). Together, we made the trip across the boarder Prague. Of course, a journey that in theory should take roughly six hours turned into an eight-hour ordeal. Mike and Elizabeth took a direct train down from Warszawa--we were rather envious. On Friday morning, we were greeted by a new layer of snow, much to the dismay of those originating from Florida and California.

The wind was rather harsh, but the snow made for a beautiful view from the Charles (Chucky) Bridge. And amid the snow and ice, I found Godot. (The National Theatre was actually staging a production of Waiting for Godot in Czech on Saturday night--they sold out before I could get tickets.) We spent the day visiting the museums near the city castle and exploring the surrounding area. About the point that we were all frozen--Thoreauski, who also hales from the Midwest, and myself included--the sun made it's first appearance of the day.
Like all big kids who have prestigious scholarships, we took advantage of the momentary weather shift and had a snowball fight. Let's all point fingers: Mike started it.
It's all fun and games until someone (namely Maggie) hits Ali's Rick Steves' Guidebook to Eastern Europe with a snowball. Ali hold's Rick in the highest regard and he should, therefore, be treated with the utmost respect. If one is not nice to Rick, one will not be privied to a descent dinner recommendation...or map of the route home. Note to all travelers: Respect the Rick.
Apologizing profusely to Rick; I firmly believe the next edition should be water proof.
No one--not even Jennifer--survived the snowball bout unscathed.
On to the Museum of Communism, located above McDonald's and next to a casino. I would say that this causes Lenin to role in his grave, but he's on display in Moscow. That, in itself, is creepy enough. Anyway...Good museum; great gift shop.The rest of the weekend provided slightly better conditions (ie. sun!). Which means we enjoyed blue sky and some slightly more pleasant weather. Though, my colleagues from warmer climates still deemed it unpleasantly frigid.
I must say, Prague is quite lovely in actual sunlight.

On Sunday, we celebrated Mike's 24th birthday with dinner on a boat. And in accordance with Fulbright tradition (which began with Ali's viking hat in Stockholm), we presented him with a tacky tourist hat. He later splurged and bought himself a cane which doubles as a sword.
And no adventure to another nation would be complete without Maggie climbing on something. We stumbled upon these statues Sunday afternoon; I couldn't resist.
After 12 hours of train time, I arrived back in my dorm late Tuesday night. And now, it's back to the grind of the daily schedule. Yesterday, I was asked to help with two more classes of Speaking and Writing; let the fun begin.