The Hospital

A place of waiting.

It seems like Christmas really took the writing kick out of me. How irresponsible I've been! But let's let bygones be bygones, accept that January is always a "hit the ground running" kind of month, and boy, did I hit it.

I seemed to have hit it so hard that about two weeks ago, I was so excited to build a castle out of cardboard boxes with my afternoon class that I excitedly sliced a giant gash in my left hand with a boxcutter, with only about 30 minutes to quitting time. (Disappointing...)

My first reaction at seeing the inside of my body was, slap a hand on it! Stop the blood flow! I'm such a good first aid responder. But of course the second reaction was, PLEASE, oh please, don't let this require stitches. I've never been to the emergency room for stitches. The only time was actually in Taiwan, after my scooter accident. I had no idea how health care worked in this country, but going by the incredibly lax and...time consuming...procedures required by the government, I envisioned myself sitting in a giant Soviet waiting room, for hours and hours, wagging my bleeding hand at nurses who couldn't understand me.

My level headed co-teacher Zuzka broke the bad news. "You are going to the hospital." she said as she mopped the blood off the castle boxes (still hasn't been built!) and after someone shoved a few Skittles in my hand to calm me down, and getting a professional-looking butterfly bandage, I was driven to the largest hospital in Prague, Nemonice Krc. Effectively, this makes it the largest hospital in the Czech Republic. Very large.

If Czech is confusing in everyday words like "Good morning" (dobre rano) and "tomato" (rajcata), imagine the fabulous confusion of driving into this sprawling compound and having no idea what EMERGENCY ROOM looks like. It turns out all people needing immediate attention are required to drive, or walk, to the back of the hospital estate. I can't imagine how thrilling it would be to break a leg bone, take the bus to the hospital, and then have to hobble about half a mile to the ER.

And so, I entered into the world of health care without English. I have Czech healthcare, and so my total fees for services rendered totalled a whopping $1.50. Thrilling! If you're going to get cut, you might want to consider doing it here...

The hospital ward was entirely outdated, a sad shade a tan that was cracking at every edge, and the nurses were this kind of short, button-up shift that looks like an insane asylum dress. WITHOUT PANTS. It's cold here, I don't know how they do it.

It was in the moment that I sat down in the waiting chair that I felt very alone. I started to cry. The last thing I wanted to do was wait for 4 hours in this cold and moldy place. But what do you know, this is a place that apparently burns on efficiency and I was in and out in forty minutes, three stitches in the hand (and a lot of tears) later.

Just keep smiling, wherever you are, no matter what you did with a box cutter.

And today, after two more doctor's visits, I am proud to report that the old hand is unstitched and looking..a little freaky, but completely healthy. And I am happy to review Czech medical care as a little dingy, a little on the downside of fashion, but completely effective and cheap as chips.

Hallelujah.

There Was No Camera, but I Swear It Snowed.

There was no camera, but I swear it snowed.

Yesterday was a big day in the Czech Republic for two reasons, the first being the death of Vaclav Havel. Don't know about Vaclav Havel? He is one of the Czech Republic's singularly most important icons of the last 100 years, and possibly ever, in that case. Vaclav Havel dying yesterday was like John F. Kennedy dying in the 1960's, though Havel was 75 years old and had lived through a bit more of his potential.

The second big thing to happen yesterday was that it snowed. I left my house to walk the 30 minutes to downtown at 6:00 yesterday evening and was left gaping at the gorgeous flurry pouring out of the sky, landing on my pea coat and sticking, not melting. And I walked through the Christmas markets, sniffing cinnamon coated almonds and hot wine, and walked even farther past the glowing national museum, smiling enormously because snow is magical. Even if it is quite cold.

The two events collided when I hit Wenceslas Square, where an enormous group of people were gathered to the point of immobility on the sidewalks. Someone in the sea of people was belting the Czech national anthem into a microphone, and it was broadcasted all over the square. A larger than life Czech flag was being held up by hundreds of people in front of the giant Monument to Saint Wenceslas, which was covered in glowing candles.

(And we aren't talking a tiny cute town square. Wenceslas is so big that some lazy people take the metro from the top of the square to the bottom of it.)

The photo I wish I had taken. Note: snow.

It was snowing, and people were chanting "Long live Havel" in Czech, and some people were smiling and others were crying and there I was...with no camera...but living in history and loving every moment of it.

Markets: Rain or Shine or Freezing Fog

10:20 AM and the sun is shining!

Every Saturday, I drag myself out of bed, throw on my giant wool sweater and fleece headband, and I walk down to the river. Well, I'm not going to lie. I walk until I see a tram headed in the right direction and take that for a few minutes. It shaves a bit of time off my journey and warms me up on the way.

Down at Karlovo Namesti, a few blocks from the Dancing House, is the Vyton farmers market. I went for the first time about two months ago, and on that particular day, there had been an early freeze and I went out of the house unprepared. I scored some swiss chard but when it came time for me to pay for it, I couldn't move my fingers enough to take the money out of my wallet. The vendor thought I was hilarious.

Carb overload.

***Side note: It has become cold enough on a daily basis that my little munchin students have expanded their clothing vocabulary extensively. Our call and response sounds like this: "OK! Put on your... JACKET and your... HAT and your... BOOTS  and your... SCARF and your... HAT and your... PANTS... and your... GLOVES!"

It's a little bit of Czech insanity that spring, summer, fall and winter, they persist in having an outdoor market by the river. I can only imagine how beautiful it's going to be in the spring, but when it's 0 degrees outside, doesn't it seem a little ridiculous that people would still want to buy their organic vegetables and fruit and meat outside?

It's crazy but I love it. And what makes this market different from other markets I've been to? Well, it's not as colorful or abundant as any market in Taiwan. They don't have hanging intestines on rusty carts. It's not quite as community driven as a market in Davis or Alameda, where you get your produce along with balloon animals, a rescued pet and campaign buttons.

And this is why I love traveling: because no matter where you go, the world bears so many similarities, but with appropriate and sometimes quirky regional differences.

So Czech markets:

1. People love to put their stuff in handmade wicker baskets.
2. There are at least 5 dried meat and dried fish stands.

And he died so happily...

3. The line for fresh butter and eggs always has about 20 people in it.
4. There is more bread than you and all the swans in the river could ever eat.
5. How about some hot wine with your morning shopping?
6. Gotta love those root vegetables.
7. This must be the best country ever for buying honey and all of its by-products.
8. Who doesn't love free samples of lard mixed with dried onions?
9. Where children eat enormous cakes for breakfast.
10. I love them.

So What If The Tram Smells?

Czech's love transparent curtains. They especially love lacy transparent curtains that do nothing to insulate or add attractiveness to a room, but hey, the influence of Mother Russia times are still strong and I guess old habits die hard. 

Enough to get me off the warm tram!

So why did I wake up at 8:00 this morning, when I was well within my rights to have a lovely little sleep in  and simply laze around all day? Lacy, transparent curtains, and the bastard sun shining straight through the many tiny white holes. Oh well, I thought, at least the sun is out!

Because autumn is in full swing now, the sun in a rare commodity, and it is a foreign sun to me. It casts long shadows from the moment it rises, and teases everyone while it sits at an odd angle in the sky. It's saying "I know you want me to get above your head, but no way, Jose, I'm going to hang out down here where you feel like the whole day is late afternoon..." But lazy rising sun is better than no sun at all. 

And she beheld THIS!

I walked down to the restaurant where I'm occasionally lending a hand these days to find out my "shift" had been cancelled - no sweat off my back, because at least I was having a lovely walk, but I suddenly found myself awake and with nothing but time to do whatever I pleased. Ah, Saturday.

A tram roared by, the 22, so I gave a little chase and jumped on. Jeez Louise, it was smelly. I was warned about the cold weather and how it drives Prague's unfortunately homeless population onto the trams and into the metro, because they are delightfully heated. I just hope they are delightfully cleaned too, because it was pretty rank. Even so, I managed to ride about 5 stops until I was across the river in Prague 1 and somewhere I didn't recognize. 

Immediate reward: I look up the street and see the most beautiful fall trees I have come across since fall in Italy two years ago. I walk. Statues, beautiful trees, cobblestones, trees, leaves, it simply doesn't end. How is it that I've been here over two months and haven't visited Petrin Hill? 

Unbelievable leaves, believe it!

(I know why I don't go over to the other side of the river very often - because it just feels so foreign to me! Especially not at night, because heck, I don't want to have to freeze my hiney off waiting 30 minutes for a night tram at 2 in the morning. At least if I'm over the river, I can walk.)

The hill itself is steep, which is no problem for me today but I can imagine it being ridiculously slippery once the snow and sleet start coming in. And up, up, up I climbed, with a huge goofy grin on my face, realizing that I hadn't done this sooner because today was the day I was meant to be awed.

When I climbed high enough, WOOF, the day was clear and bright enough to see the whole city - my far away neighborhood and the spires of Namesti Miru and Zizkov Tower, I could see the National Theatre, and Letna Park, and of course, the castle. Everything was covered in a low lying mist. 

At this point I was hungry so I followed the tram tracks back to a 22 stop and merrily smiled all the way home. If only this story had a gory twist to it, but truly, it was just a beautiful fall day, and it deserves to be published. 

Yours truly, getting my Nordic style on.

Happy Halloween, all. (Except Czechs, who think its hilarious to see all the expats trolloping around in costumes.) 

A Guessing Game

Home sweet home! I live in a garage!

Sunday is here and it's cold. Winter is coming fast and it is so satisfying to sit inside on my fake couch (made out of a twin bed, of course) and dream my Prague day away.


And hey, I deserve it: I had a busy week! Finally finding my groove - I found an African dance class, a Czech restaurant that lets me come in and work for free (lets me: hee hee hee!) once or twice a week, and a fabulous group of ladies that end up having wonderful things to do during the week. Thursday, I taught a couple of them how to make Chinese dumplings, and let me say, if they had been men, I would have had several marriage proposals. Just tooting my own horn, but baby, I'm really loving the kitchen still. 


Anyway, my favorite recovery for a long weekend of birthday parties and other lovely things is to A: make a giant bowl of garlic spinach, and B: take a walk. It's misty outside and darn cold, but I bought this fabulous giant synthetic sweater at a second hand store and it is just right for misty freezing day walks. My neighborhood is just fabulous for exploration. 


I decided to play a game to emphasize the point that Czech is ridiculously difficult. I'm working on it, slowly but surely, but even walking down the street I often screw up my face at things I'm reading. A big giant "What in the hell could that possibly be?" 


Here are the rules of the game: You cannot use translation to help you, only use your brilliant brain. Then, you must guess what the businesses are that I photographed on my walk down Korunni! Ready? Let's do it!

 Let's start with an easy one! Kavarna...kavarna...what could that possibly be?

Let's get tricky! This store sells exactly what now?

It's not as obvious as you think...they don't sell traffic...

And the last? These are everywhere. 

Write down your guesses and then hold you horses, I'll post the answers in my next blog! (And when will that be, like next month?) 


Possibly, but let's be optimistic!

My First Love Affair

This is a blog with no photos. It is only a story about falling in love in Prague.

Pasha is a wild child who can't sit still and doesn't like to listen. He smiles over his shoulder at me just before he is about to do something ridiculously naughty. "I don't think so." I say to him, as he turns the bathroom tap on and off several times. "Are you kidding me?" is for picking up food off the floor and putting it in his mouth.

My little man comes to school in suspenders sometimes, he loves to play with them and they are an unfortunate distraction. But so handsome. "Yesh, please!" Pasha shouts when I give him more apples. He loves apples. Sometimes he loves them so much, he'll jump into my arms and plant a kiss on my eye, or chin, or ear. Sometimes he throws his shoes at me.

Nap time is especially hairy. Three year olds must sleep, but Pasha thinks he's 35. It was time for an intervention and I came into his nap room with a plan: wrangle him to sleep. He fought. He kicked at me, punched at me, and of course, screamed and cried like I was torturing him French-Algerian style. I held him like I was a swaddling cloth and bit my tongue, letting him go for it.

Thirty minutes later, I felt a head roll onto my shoulder. I looked down at my victory and fell madly in love with the little boy in my lap, his little devil eyelashes finally not fluttering, and listened to him snore his little snores.

I travelled halfway across the world to teach, to live, to learn, and to love. Ticking those boxes, every day.

Grandma Summer

At last, Grandma Summer is coming to a close. At least, that's what the weather predictions say, and I"m not about to argue with the gloves and scarf I wore last night. But how unusual, how fortunate, that from the moment I stepped off the plane on August 18th, until yesterday, October 7th, the Czech Republic has experienced a belated sunny season that has drawn everyone outside, allowing me to fall in love a little harder.



Everyone knows that the proper term for "long summer heat in the middle of Fall" is "Indian Summer," but let's get real, there aren't many Indians in Europe. (American Indians. There are plenty of real Indians, or else I wouldn't have had delicious eggplant curry last weekend.) Whatever you call it, I experienced it the same.

What do you do in Prague when it's unexpectedly nice? And trust me, no one really expected it.

Wake up and smile.


It's too dark on weekdays to see the sun in the mornings, but on the weekends, there is nothing better than rolling over and looking out the window to see the top of the centuries old buildings across my street, and bright blue sky above them. Doesn't that just set the mood?

Go for a run/walk.

Who can argue with that sky?

Sadly, I think we are nearing the end of the run/walk period with the return of the rain this week, because the sidewalks are old, beautiful, and ridiculously slippery - coaster sized shiny interlocking rocks. I can't wait until the day I bite it when I'm in a hurry, probably wearing heels. The logistics of the run/walk: pick a direction, any direction, and go. Run until you want to stop, walk until you feel lazy, and chances are, I'll see 50 different new things I promise I'll come back to.

Most may be in the shape of pubs...

But I did encounter a super drunk couple at 10AM sitting down on the escalator of the metro and, not realizing they had no intention of ever standing up, I ended up in an escalator doggy pile of pissy Czech's and confused foreigners. Just shake it off, it's Grandma Summer!

Go to the park and read, like everyone else.


I didn't read books in Taiwan because I worked all day and I didn't want to come home and burden my poor brain in my apartment, which was my movie-watching sanctuary. But when it's 70 and sunny, and my favorite park, Riegrovy Sady, has about 10 different views of Prague that would blow your mind, I am drawn like a fly to a buzzing death trap. Almost finished with my second book. The other day, two men with guitars sat near me and I got an incidental serenade. Life is so good, I suppose.

Drink beer, of course, but do it outside.


I'm sad to see the sun go for one big reason: I can't go to beer garden's anymore, or sit in outdoor patios. ANd when we're all driven indoors, that's when the smoker's lung starts to develop, and the smoker's hair, and clothes, and skin. Czech's are about 20 years behind in the fact that smoking is going out of fashion, especially because you can die. And it smells bad. Come on, people. I'm trying to meet gorgeous European men and I smell like an tabacco wildfire.

Sunset - my stairwell.

Thank goodness for Maider Sorasu, who taught me in Spain that the best policy is to immediately remove clothes upon entering home and hang it up away from everything else. And give it a few days. Damn the autumn and my smelly wardrobe.

Watch the sun set from anywhere.


Yes, the sun still sets all year round. But when you can watch it go down while wearing a tanktop and sitting with a group of friends on a hilltop, that's magic.

This being said, I think Fall is going to be an excellent season.