Blue Windows and Blue Plants

This week I was strolling about my village and passed this house. Love the blue windows and the imperfect facade! What a great idea. Bright blue window frames! I have no idea who lives there or how long it has had blue windows. But I love it, and I sort of want it. The house also has a beautiful view of the valley.

Here is what those blue windows see.

I went for a run--great way to explore the surrounding areas!-- and came across these plants on the side of a lovely dirt track through a field. What is it? Whoever knows wins ten points.

Well, that is a little more of my village. Random, yes. Interesting, hopefully.

Movie of the Week

Thought I would take a break from Czech land posts and do something else today.

Several people have asked me to recommend old movies. This request is mostly to humor me but hopefully there is some genuine interest in there, too.

So here is one of my favorites.

The More The Merrier (1943) black and white (sorry, Sally)

One of my very, very, very favorite leading men is in this movie: Joel McCrea.

He is so handsome and very funny, and just perfect in this movie. Early in his career he played serious hunky leading men, as in The Most Dangerous Game (1932) when he and Fay Wray (of King Kong fame) are a crazy villain's human prey. Then he got into more romantic and screwball comedies where I think he is wonderful. Besides The More the Merrier, I also love him in Woman Chases Man with Miriam Hopkins. Later in his career he acted almost exclusively in westerns. He was a real life cowboy and enjoyed being in cowboy movies. His son Jody appeared in the beach party movies of the 1960s as Bonehead.

Anyway, back to the movie. The film is set during World War II in Washington, D.C. The war has caused a housing shortage in the city because of all the people coming to D.C. A young woman (Jean Arthur) thinks it is her patriotic duty to rent out her extra room. Her ad is answered by the hilarious Charles Coburn who finagles his way into living there, against Arthur's better judgment. He almost immediately decides to find a husband for her. So he rents out half of his room to a "nice, clean cut young man" (McCrea) that he meets. Screwball comedy and lots of romance ensue.

I love this movie. It is genuinely funny and clever. I can watch it over and over again and still find something new to chuckle over. The romance between McCrea and Arthur is excellent. There is a famous scene when McCrea and Arthur are walking home after Coburn has taken Arthur's fiance off to talk facts and figures about the war. They sit on her front stoop and discuss her stuffed shirt fiance while McCrea slowly puts his arm around her and works his way in for a kiss. It is lovely and also hilarious because they are talking about her fiance the whole time.

I think it has held up great in the 66 years since its release, but one of the main issues is a little dated. When it is discovered that the single Jean Arthur is living with McCrea, no matter how platonic the arrangement is, everyone panics. Arthur thinks that her reputation is ruined and she will lose her job, and her fiance is terrified that Arthur's "indiscretion" will end his political ambitions. Now, the fuss over their cohabitation is a little odd, but if you can accept their worry as real then you will get into the plot and enjoy the movie.

This was remade as Walk, Don't Run (1966), set in Tokyo with Cary Grant in Coburn's role and the housing shortage due to the Tokyo Olympics. It can't compare to the original.

Hope this was a nice change of pace!

Prague and Petrin

Last week I went in search of an English bookstore (found it!) and right across the narrow street was St. Jacob's Church. Apparently this is one of the most marvelous baroque churches in Prague. It is certainly a fussy one. Here is one of the outside sculptures. The crazy figures certainly pop against the otherwise bland facade.

The interior was crazy, too. I think this church is also one of the "longest" in Prague. The nave certainly seemed to go on a very long way.

Give me a nice dark Gothic church over a Baroque masterpiece any day. I find the paintings and sculptures and frescoes and windows and statues and curlicues a bit distracting. I like stained glass and bare stone and ribbed vaults.

I couldn't go any further towards the altar, which is sort of a bummer because I am sure there are some spectacular things down there.

Forgive me my snarky comments; it really is a beautiful church.

On Tuesday I went into Prague for lunch with a young woman who goes to my yoga studio. My fabulous yoga teacher set us up. The girl's name is Julie and she is 26 and awesome. I had a lovely time. Julie has lived all over and speaks Czech, French, and English. She worked as a tour guide in Prague in high school and she took me all around. It was different and delightful to see Prague with someone who really knows it and loves it.

We climbed the Old Town Hall Tower (where the astronomical clock is.) Here are some pictures from the top. I really enjoy climbing towers,

whether they are bell towers, guard towers, castle towers, whatever. This picture of the Old Town Square shows the Jan Hus monument smack dab in the center.

Unfortunately I don't know enough about the other buildings to point out anything very interesting. But nice red roofs, huh?

In the distance you can see a funny looking tower thing.

It is a TV tower and it was built under the Communists. It looks like three speared flying saucers. It is considered a major eyesore, the way that Parisians hate the Eiffel Tower. But

unlike the Eiffel Tower, I am not sure anyone

thinks the TV tower is that amazing.

This is St. Nicholas Church. It is de-sanctified and now they have touristy Mozart concerts in it every afternoon. There is a huge and unique iron and glass chandelier in the middle of the nave with a crucifix hanging from the center.

And here I am. Yes, I am really here.

After the tower climb we walked around a little more and then got lunch at a great (and cheap!) restaurant near Old Town Square. Then it was across the river and more strolling. I saw the John Lennon wall where people write messages to him or about him or just about their boyfriend/girlfriend or peace or love.

Julie showed me a restaurant that is down a teeny tiny staircase alley. The stairs are so narrow that they have a traffic light with the green "Walk" and the red "Don't Walk." You press the button (as I am so ably demonstrating) and then when the light is in your favor you go. Otherwise people might get stuck.

Julie pointed out this sign. It says "Smichov" (the name of a section of Prague) in Russian and points to the right. She told me that in 1968 when Russian tanks rolled into Prague to quell the rebellion, the residents put up signs in Russian. But they weren't being helpful. The signs pointed the wrong way, or misidentified areas and streets. We weren't anywhere near Smichov, for instance. The hope was that the signs would create confusion and make the tanks go in circles. It seems like sort of a "Hogan's Heroes" (new favorite show, however incredibly inappropriate the basic premise is (a comedy in a Nazi POW camp? Really?)) stunt but it is super cool.

Speaking of the Eiffel Tower (that was a ways back though) there is a mini one in Prague at the top of Petrin Hill. It was built in 1891. Some Czech people went to Paris and were so inspired by the Eiffel Tower that they built something similar in Prague. This morning we visited Petrin Hill and saw the sights.

I was most excited, though, to see a very nice giant fake ice cream cone at the foot of the tower. Instead of the typical vanilla or chocolate, this one had chocolate chips and chocolate sauce. Naturally I got a picture. That is Lukas with me. It was chilly and windy today, hence the scarf and our jackets.

To get up to the tower you can climb the very tall hill or take the funicular. We took the funicular since we had the boys with us. It was an adventure. A very slow, not terribly exciting adventure.

Prague has lots of green space, which is lovely. Parks and squares with trees and grass and benches. Petrin Hill is also home to this fake medieval tower. Inside is a mirror maze. The boys enjoyed it, but I felt sick. Fun house mirrors creep me out. You worked your way through the maze (very easy, but it is meant for children so I didn't feel that smart) and then there was a crowded, noisy room with weird mirrors that make you look short or very tall.

It was like having a migraine. When I do get one of those nice headaches, my vision goes wacko and I feel like I am looking out at fun house mirrors. So I got out of there as soon as I could.

There were some beautiful views of Prague from the hill. Here is Old Town Square and the Tyn Church.

Prague Castle with St. Vitus Cathedral. Massive.

Prague and Petrin...busy days.

Marianske Tynice

Last weekend we took a side trip to Marianske Tynice, a church and pilgrimage site that is now a museum for the Plzen region of the Czech Republic. The poor church fell into disrepair in the 18th century, and the cupola even collapsed into the middle of the sanctuary. But it is somewhat restored and had items from pre-history to the Communist era relating to this area. One of my favorite rooms had mannequins wearing various uniforms from the different armies and wars. The mannequins were clearly just store dummies with funny hair and make-up and poses. I think that one of them was a female mannequin, and she must have had noticeable eye makeup because they had put modern sunglasses on her. So there she was, in a WWII uniform, cocking her hip and smiling in her shades.

Here is one side:

You can just barely see the cupola of the church in the middle left. The church houses various exhibitions now, and there was a sculpture of 82 children gassed by the Nazis from this region. They were life size and it was terrifying and moving.

A storm was blowing in (the weather changes every 3 minutes), and I liked the forbidding grey clouds against the religious statues.

This church has been de-sanctified, along with others in the country. Many churches are used for concerts or other secular things, and others look like they are falling apart. The Czechs are some of the least religious people in Europe, which is saying something. Apparently, 49% of Czechs are atheists. "Why do you think that is?" I asked my Czech informant. "Natural skepticism," she replied. "And we don't like being told what to believe." The Czech people were constantly being forced to be one religion or another. This country has been rather relentlessly controlled when you think about it. It has switched from one empire to another, from one ruling family to another, from one regime to another. So it sort of makes sense that people would not look kindly on organized anything, and especially religion.

Some random observations. People don't talk as much at meals here. Lunch and dinner are fairly silent. I thought that maybe it was just my family, but I have had the chance to observe other groups at meal times, and there is not much talking. This makes me uncomfortable. I feel like something is wrong! That someone is in big trouble or someone is so tired or mad that they refuse to speak. At first I attempted to fill the silence but no one really jumps in to help me keep a conversation going. So I think it is just a cultural difference, and I am trying to get used to it.

People take off their shoes when they enter a house and slip on "indoor" shoes. I have checked and this is a Czech custom, not just an isolated tradition in my village. I did not pack any indoor shoes, so right now I use a pair of Eva's. I don't mind following this rule, but it can get tricky when I am going in and out of the house fetching juice or a diaper or a bicycle helmet or whatever. I didn't bring any easily slip-on and slip-offable shoes, so I have to untie or unbuckle and then re-tie or re-buckle. It slows me down. People wear socks almost constantly, too, so flip flops are also tricky. You don't walk around in bare feet. I need to get some Crocs or something.

Table manners are different. They use their knives much more. I suppose some of that is more broadly European. They don't transfer knife and fork from one hand to the other, and they hold their knife almost all the time. They use it to push food around and pile it on their fork. It is not uncommon to lick the knife to get all the sauce. Overall, the eating style is more aggressive than what I am used to. I am sure they are appalled at my Southern American manners. I bet I seem slow and wussy.

I get very confused when I look at maps of where I am because the scale is so different. The Czech Republic is medium sized for Europe, comparable to Austria and Ireland. But it could fit into the US about 12o times. It is almost half the size of North Carolina. So my scale is all messed up. When I look at a map and see that we are going to Plzen, for instance, it looks really far away. It is on the other side of the country practically. I brace myself for hours and hours in the car. But it is only an hour of driving. It seems really far, but things are actually quite close here. I am so used to a monster-big country with vastly different geography and weather that it is weird to be in a country that is the size of a small state. When they do the weather report on the news, they show the entire country behind the meteorologist.

Long Weekend

Happy belated July 4th! Unfortunately, my July 4th was a lot like my July 3rd and July 5th. America's Independence Day is not a very big deal here. But I celebrated in my mind. I would have liked to make a Martha Stewart-y cake in the shape of the American flag, with white icing and cherries or raspberries for the red stripes and blueberries for the blue part. But baking is a little beyond me right now. A different, strange oven, the metric system, trying to translate ingredients, my own fundamental cooking difficulties (where is my mom or Sally when I need her?) ...And we were not at home this weekend. On Friday afternoon we left for that retreat place that we went to the first weekend I was here. We only got back a few hours ago; Monday was a holiday so it was a three day weekend.

Speaking of cherries...

We stopped by the grandparent's house on the way to the camp site to pick up green peas, raspberries, and cherries. I had to take a picture. There was a whole other basket, just like this one! Two beautiful baskets just brimming with perfect cherries. Awesome.

Of course one basket tipped over in the car, but we managed to salvage almost every single cherry.

The boys enjoyed the weekend. They ran around outside, biked a lot, played in a sand and gravel pile, and attempted ping pong and badminton, though the ball/birdie rarely crossed the net more than once in succession.

A very nice couple, good friends of Eva and Jan, stayed with us, too. They do not speak English, so when we were all together it was five minutes of Czech conversation summed up in one sentence for the American girl...and repeat...but we had a good time together. I am discovering that you can say a lot with a smile. And gestures. More with gestures.

I had a good time, though it was certainly a long weekend. There is no internet access and the nearest town is over 5km away (how euro am I?), so it is a little isolated. I was on duty quite a lot, so I am worn out. And I get most homesick on the weekends. Not entirely sure why, but everything seemed to remind me of something or someone at home. Anyway, I am glad to be back in my village and very excited to have internet and skype!

I went for two runs over the weekend and actually had a great time! Part of why I enjoyed running was because the views were so incredible.

I ran the road from the camp site to the tiny town.

It was a one lane dirt track with waist high grasses and wildflowers on either side.

There were blue mountains in the distance and incredibly picturesque hay stacks dotting the fields.

I took some videos to share with you. They might be a little redundant, shaky, or spinny but it was so gorgeous! forgive me.

It was hot but there was a nice breeze--you can hear it shooshing through the wheat(?).

Here is a view of the nearby town. Besides an ugly water tower or whatever that thing is, it was very scenic. The first building with the red roof is part of the train station. All the windows are broken in the top part.

Another reason I enjoyed the runs was because they were rare moments when I could do something totally for myself and be completely relaxed. I was with the children almost constantly and had very little "Cameron time" this weekend, so these minutes of independence and privacy were very much appreciated.

At the end of the dirt road there was a rather dilapidated train station. A lot of the train stations in the small towns I have driven through are in an attractive state of disrepair. To add to the small town cuteness, look for a chicken daintily stepping between the rail ties.

Although it is still difficult sometimes to communicate with the boys, it is amazing how quickly they pick up words and phrases. Here is a video of the four year old speaking brief English. ("Cameron, push please.") He had just gotten off of his bike. I don't make them wear helmets all the time...

Progress! He learned "push" pretty early because of the swing in the backyard. He is a funny one--sometimes he will say lots of English words or even sing phrases, (his latest favorites are "close the door! open the door!" with his voice rising and lingering on "door," and "brush your teeth!") but sometimes he refuses. Then he will look at me and say "No, Cameron." (Everyone here says my name Cam-ur-ron, not Cam-ron or Cam-ren.)

I had a free hour on Sunday and went to the lake behind the house. Another lovely spot.

There is a metal rowboat and a narrow dock, just wide enough to sit on, eat cherries, and read.

I was planning on taking the boat out on Monday afternoon, but as soon as I started unlocking the padlock that chains it to the dock, there was a burst of thunder. Figures. I decided that it would be really embarrassing to get struck by lightning on this tiny lake in the middle of the Czech Republic, so I locked the boat back up and headed for the house. It started to rain soon afterwards.

It's been a month...

I have been in the Czech Republic for a month now--shocking!

I thought I would mark this occasion with some observations on the first 30 days: what I miss, what I don't, what is different, the same, odd.

Obviously what I miss most are people, but rather than turn this into weepy (and annoying) shout-outs I will just say that I miss my friends and family very much.

In no particular order:

I miss knowing the language! I have never been so completely inarticulate. I feel paralyzed by my lack of understanding and my inability to speak. It is lonely and frustrating to be so cut off from other people. I don't feel this way with the family, this is more of a village/Prague sensation. I had never realized it, but there is a basic level of confidence that comes with being able to communicate. And I don't have that now. Here, everything becomes harder simply because I cannot understand or be understood. I feel dumb and a little rude that I came over here not knowing their language, but I expect them to speak mine. I am almost ashamed to admit it, but I go to Starbucks more often than other cafes because I know that the people working at Starbucks will speak at least some English. I will be able to order, and I will probably get what I order. Who knows at a local shop?

And the language barrier brings up other issues. If someone is translating for you (I am often with one English/Czech speaker and one only Czech speaker), who do you look at when speaking? I mean, is it polite to speak only to the interpreter? But it feels funny to ask someone a question when you know they can't understand you. Also, is it reasonable to expect someone to translate for you all the time? That must be a real drag for the translator. Is it weird to laugh when they start laughing, even if you have no idea what is so funny? But you don't want to completely zone out, either.

I seem to have a constant slight headache when I am with people speaking Czech. As though my brain is really trying to make sense of the sounds but it is not happening, no matter how hard my brain works.

So--moral of the story--the next time you meet someone who doesn't speak perfect English, be patient with them. I doubt they want to struggle with the language, and it may have taken a great deal of courage for them to venture into the shop/post office/restaurant, etc.

Here is a trivial, shallow one. I miss dressing up. I don't miss it a lot, but I certainly dress down here. Jeans and t-shirts mainly and not much jewelry. I do this for two reasons:

1. I don't want to get baby spit (or other fluids) on nice clothes, and I don't want the baby pulling on a necklace or earrings.

2. People dress differently here. It is a bit more casual but also just different. It is sort of what I imagine Miami looks like. Tight clothes on people who should not be squeezed into them. Women in tight, sheer shirts so that you can see every bulge. (And there are always lots of bulges.) Men in tight trousers and tighter shirts. There are different standards of matching. Clothes seem a little blurrier and muted, or very very loud and sort of 1980s. But lots of young people, who seem awfully angry about something, wear all black. Hair is often multi-hued, usually dark with red streaks or yellow streaks. A popular style seems to be black on the bottom with white-yellow on top or around the face. Skunk hair.

I suppose these differences are freeing. I can wear whatever I want. But still, I miss dressing up. Fortunately, Eva and I have similar tastes in clothes. She and her husband lived in the US for several years, and she loves Banana Republic and Target and Gap. So I don't feel like my clothes are totally different from hers.

I miss familiar food! Not just the food, but the structure of the meals. As I have mentioned, they eat a very heavy lunch of soup, meat, and pasta/potatoes/dumplings/rice. The other day I made a lovely bowl of granola and yogurt and fruit for lunch because I couldn't take more mysterious meat and potatoes. Later in the afternoon, Eva told me "You need to eat better!"

Dinner is sort of an afterthought. Maybe bread and cheese, or a salad, or leftovers from lunch. And we eat dinner at 4:30 at the earliest and 6:00 at the latest. So I am really hungry around 7 or 8! My metabolism is very confused.

I miss people my own age, and especially those who speak English. It is an odd jump to go from college to a house with three young children. Like I skipped a few steps...

My cousin Jenner is visiting Prague right now so that has been wonderful! An excellent dose of American youth. I also met a Canadian girl who is visiting her aunt in Prague. She walked with Jenner and his friends and me for a while, and told me later that we speak differently...very American. "How so?" I asked, and she said, "Well, you say y'all a lot!"

As we were walking up to Prague Castle we passed this funny sign. I am having trouble finding a translation for hodna zenska...but anyway, how ironic that Jenner and I are together and we pass a sign with our sisters' and grandmother's names on it!

I do not miss TV very much. I have The Office and one episode of Arrested Development--hurray! iTunes lets me download the national nightly news for free every night so I am able to stay informed--by the way, who cares about Iran/health care/Afghanistan? Tell me more about Michael Jackson's doctor's lawyer's opinions! I can also get The Daily Show and Colbert Report, so I am doing okay TV-wise.

I miss classes! I have been out of school less than 8 weeks and I miss it! Strange though this may be, it tells me that maybe graduate school, and even the 6 or so years to a Ph.D might be the right step.

A wonderful thing: grandparents

The grandparents have been amazingly, unexpectedly, fantastically nice to me. They act absolutely delighted that I am here. The set who lives near by comes over a few times a week, and they almost always bring me something--a small bouquet of flowers, fresh cherries from their garden, a chocolate eclair. The grandmother urges me to eat. Sometimes she brings me pastries from her favorite bakery, but usually she bakes things herself. When I told her I liked her blueberry cake (it reminds me of Aunt Abie's blueberry coffee cake from Two Bar Spear) she baked me a whole new one and told everyone it was just for me! No one else was allowed to eat it! She has made me blueberry dumplings and a special kind of Czech tart just so I can try them. She speaks some English, and we have a good time drinking tea and talking.

The grandfather speaks no English, but he has also made me feel very welcome and appreciated. He brought a sausage and onion dish that is a Czech specialty just for me to try, and another day he brought me my favorite chocolate bar* after Eva mentioned that I really liked them. He calls me Cameron-ko. (The ending, ko, (that is probably not how it is spelled) is a term of endearment, like adding dear or something. So we call the boys Honzik-ko and Lukas-ko, for instance.) He made sure I had his cell phone number in case I needed anything. I went into Prague for a few hours last weekend, and he wanted to know when I would be back. Eva said that he only wanted to know so that he would have some idea of where I was, so he could make sure that I was okay. She said they think of me as another daughter! Gracious me!

*Although it sounds like they are trying to fatten me up, I don't think it is a Hansel and Gretel situation. And I am eating lots of veggies and fruits (you should see the beautiful cherries and strawberries and raspberries in the grandparents' gardens!). Not just pastries and sausages and chocolate, I promise. Okay, mom?

Sometimes I will pause and think what in the world am I doing here? I will be on a bus full of Czech people, or on the subway, or in a coffee shop, or just walking around and it will hit me where I am and what I am doing. A weird feeling. If someone had told me a year ago that I would be in the Czech Republic taking care of three children I would not have believed them!

Here ends this tome. As always, thanks very much for reading!

Sunrise, Sunset

Well, really just sunset. I am not up early enough to catch the sunrise. Although I am in training to become a morning person. Or at least to get up earlier. And I have dropped one hour off my latest rising time already! (It helps that the children go to bed super early. So then I go to bed early, too, and getting up at 6 or 7 is not so awful.)

But the point is...here are some sunset images snapped from my window.

Pretty, huh? The pink was even brighter and the purple deeper in person.

And here is the hydrangea bush I mentioned earlier. I am such a creep. Taking pictures of people's gardens. I should be ashamed of myself. Yet I keep doing it...

This is for those UNC people out there.

This morning I went for a long walk with my eventual destination being a cafe in town. I saw an "illy" sign outside of an otherwise normal storefront when I was strolling with the baby the other day. I like illy. It is an Italian brand of coffee and cafes that advertise it usually make very good Italian style espresso and cappuccino.

The cafe was an odd cross between a modern coffee bar and a sketchy bar bar. Sleek leather chairs and tables in the front and slot machines in the back. I am not sure I will go back. The coffee was good, but not great. I prefer the more cheerful cukrana even though the coffee is not as tasty.

On a very positive note, my comfort zone is slowly expanding to include the village. I try to go for at least one walk a day so I can familiarize myself with different areas and routes. I have gone into two or three different grocery stores and two cafes. Next on the agenda is the pancake shop.

Sometimes when I am walking in the village I can imagine a tour bus driving in with people peering through the tinted windows to see what life in a small Czech village is really like. Maybe they stop at a "traditional Czech pub" for a "traditional Czech meal" and the "traditional Czech experience." But the buses don't come to my village. Too small even for that.

Funny story: The town's nickname is Bubakov, which basically translates to Ghost Town. Jan explained that the town has this nickname because a bunch of farmers were massacred here and haunt the village. "Oh my!" I said, "When was this?" He answered, "Oh, the 13th or 14th century."

And that's when you know you're in Europe.