Christmas Time in Prague

Prague is strung with lights and hung with garlands and covered in svarak (mulled wine). Quite lovely and festive. Take a look.

Here is Old Town Square with its big Christmas tree and Christmas market.

The tree and a creche.

There are palacinky (crepe) sheds and trdelnik sheds everywhere. But I am most excited about the giant trdelniks hanging from the market shacks. I would like to hide in there. With a real trdelnik.

Here is the Palladium shopping mall which connects to the Namesti Republicky metro stop. I go there all the time. The Palladium has its own small Christmas Market out front, and the facade is covered in lights.Now for Prague at night. Here is Parizska (Paris) Street...beautiful! I love twinkle lights. Parizska Street is where all the upscale, designer stores are.

Old Town Square...on a Saturday night...packed with people.

It was so crowded. Pickpocket heaven.

We went last Saturday, which happened to be the day before St. Nicholas Day. In the Czech Republic, that means that St. Nicholas, an angel, and the devil walk around and visit people's houses. If a kid has been bad the devil will be mean, and if a kid has been good the angel will give him some candy. So it is a combination of Halloween (with people dressed as St. Nicholas, an angel, and the devil), and Santa Claus leaving coal in a bad child's stocking. As we strolled around Prague on Saturday we saw several groups of St. Nick/angel/devil, in varying degrees of costumes. Some devils had their faces painted and were quite frightening, and some of the St. Nicks looked like the pope with a big hat and a white robe. At the Christmas market there were flashing devil horns for sale everywhere. A bunch of kids were wearing them. How interesting...no haloes, but the horns are a big seller...

In this video you can see a group of costumed St. Nicholas Day people. There are also some shots of Old Town Square, a huge trdelnik, some strangers, Julie, the Christmas tree, and the Tyn Church, all accompanied, unfortunately, by a very annoying kid's show that was being performed on a stage by the Christmas tree. (Sorry for the shaky, whiplash-y camera work.)

On Sunday we went up to Letna Park and the metronome above Prague. There used to be statue of Stalin here, but they tore it down. In its place they put a giant metronome that is supposed to symbolize how time keeps moving and how much time has passed since Communism and how nice change can be, etc. Ironically, it is often broken and still. But when we were there it was moving. Here is a video.

Here is a shot of Pariszka Street from the hill.
Here is another shot of Prague from the metronome. Unfortunately, the graffiti marring the wall and the view is quite typical of the city.

I will do some more Dubai posts soon, but I wanted to share some Christmas cheer tonight!

Ras al Khaimah--Resort 1

Eva was pretty mad about the hotel, but I enjoyed our stay. Once we got to the other resort I understood more of Eva's anger, but for Thursday-Saturday that we were there it was fine.

We had an all-inclusive thing at the restaurant which served a fairly expansive buffet for every meal. The boys thought that was awesome. It was also nice since we didn't have to wait for the food, and we could get the baby a bunch of different stuff. Sometimes he is weird about dinner and refuses to eat what we get him.

The staff was wonderful. Most of them were from the Philippines. I don't think there were any Emiratis working at the hotel, but that is pretty typical. They import their workers. The staff, especially at the restaurant, could have hated us since we had three little kids and were not the quietest diners. But instead they got excited when they saw us coming. They loved the baby and would pick him up and walk around with him. At first that was a little strange, since rather than just hold him at our table they would swing him up in their arms and walk away and out of sight. People don't normally do that with other people's kids. But I got used to it. They even brought him toys, like a plush snake and a fake shell. It made such a positive difference in my daily existence to have the staff be so pleased to see the kids! They didn't get mad when we took over the lobby, or fuss when the boys spilled their pasta. (All they ate was pasta. It was weird. But no matter what else was on the buffet, Honzik and Lukas would only get excited about the pasta selection.) Although that made my life easier. I just had to bring them plates of spaghetti and they were happy.

The only bummer about the hotel was that there was no beach, just a pool, and no baby pool.

That was fine for Honzik, since he is a good swimmer, but Lukas isn't that great. He is only four. And maybe this is a Czech thing, but Eva did not bring or buy him a life jacket or water wings. I would have had that kid bundled into a life jacket as soon as the pool was in sight, and perhaps even in the lobby. Instead I just watched him like a benevolent but sharp eyed bird of prey. Pools are treacherous.

And let's not even start on the baby. Having him around the pool was a never-ending stress ball for me. Lukas would be okay if he fell in the pool. But Baby...nope. And no life jacket for Baby. So one of us, usually me, followed him around, bent over at the waist with hands either touching him or two inches away. The darn tiles around the pool were horribly slick when they got wet (who designed that??) so it was tricky for adults to walk around, never mind a kid who just started walking a month or two ago. Recipe for disaster. I know I am over-protective and I worry too much, but these are valid concerns, right?

He makes me crazy, but he is so cute. I have become very attached to this little blob.

Because of him, there wasn't a lot of relaxing-by-the-pool time for me. But that is okay.

Here we are. And look, Ma, and Sal, I am wearing my super-SPF cover-up. And I'm in the shade. And I used the shot glass worth of sunscreen every day. Ain't you proud? I didn't get burned once.

You can see some of the construction in this picture. Fifty years ago there wasn't much here. And most of the growth is in the last decade or so. Cranes are everywhere, and most buildings are in various stages of completion.

This is the pool with the creek in the distance. You could not swim in the creek. But boats used it.

Here is Baby with his grandmother.

Lukas got a little tired...

Eva also did not want the kids to adjust to the time zone--three hours ahead of Prague. This was tough for me since I adjusted right away and we were there for a week, so we had to really fight to keep the kids from naturally adjusting, too. To keep the kids occupied in the late afternoon, and to shop, Eva liked to go to nearby malls. There are a lot of malls in the UAE. They have basically the same shops as in Prague, but for a little bit cheaper. So she did a lot of shopping.

Here is the first mall we went to. A lot of the architecture struck me as "Disney World-does-Middle East." Notice the Pizza Hut, McDonald's, and KFC signs...

The inside:One mall we went to had a little kiddie amusement park by the food court.

The malls felt very American, except for the traditional Muslim clothing stores. There might be an H & M next to a smaller store that sold only burkas and head scarves. Many of the clothing (all black) was beautifully embellished with sequins and embroidery. The black robes would have incredibly detailed work on the sleeves and the hems, with matching head scarves and face veils. I didn't do any shopping, instead I just nannied and in free moments looked around at the other shoppers. Hopefully not in a creepy way.

It was so interesting to see the different clothing the women wore. Some women were in normal Western outfits. Some just had their heads covered. Some had on black robes but their faces were bare. Some were totally covered except for their (heavily made up) eyes. And some women wore veils over their entire face. They looked opaque to me but they must be slightly sheer so that the women can see. And I saw all these combinations in the same groups! A woman who was totally swathed in black might be walking with a friend or sister or some other woman who had her face bare, and they might be with some little girls, their daughters? wearing Western clothes. I guess women only begin wearing the full robe and face veil when they reach their teens? The men all dress differently, too. The typical, traditional male outfit in the UAE is a white robe with a head covering of some kind. So the men wear white and the women black. But I saw all different colors of robes and a lot of the men wore Western pants and shirts.

I think a lot of us have the idea that the Middle Eastern or Muslim dress code is much more standardized than it is. I certainly did not expect the variety of coverings that I saw. At first I was a little creeped out by the burkas, especially the ones where you only see their eyes, or not even that. All I could think about was the dementors gliding about in Harry Potter. I got more used to it, but I still don't understand. I wonder what they thought of me in my jeans and t-shirts, my face uncovered and my head bare.

The next day I offered to stay at the hotel with the Baby instead of going to another mall. It was easier for me to take care of him in the hotel than in a shopping mall. And, honestly, I didn't enjoy feeling so conspicuous. I stuck out because of my age and my appearance and my gender. I have never felt quite so aware of all those things before. (Probably being surrounded by three kids did not help me blend in, either...)

Here is Baby with Ras al Khaimah in the background through the window. He likes to "read." At home he goes to his bookshelf, brings me a book, climbs in my lap and then flips through it with me. Then he climbs down and brings me another one.

And the city framed awkwardly by the window:

An interesting, interesting place.

Dubai--Getting There

And now for Dubai...I am slowly making my way through my blog backlog to the present. I am now writing about what I did in the middle of November. Combine the travel (hurray!) with graduate school applications (not so much) with more nannying (I am almost their primary caregiver which is not quite what I signed up for) and perhaps I may be excused for getting so behind.

Anyway, Eva went to Dubai with some friends back in July. She enjoyed the trip and came back determined to change our November destination from the Canary Islands (where they have been before) to Dubai. Both places are about 5 hour flights from Prague.

So on November 11 we headed to the airport at 7am, with Baby, Lukas, Honzik, Eva, Grandmother, Grandmother’s friend-who-is-sort-of-an-aunt-to-Eva, and little ol’ me. Everyone piled into the van, but as I was climbing in I was told to get in the car behind the van. So I rode to the airport with some guy, following the van with everyone else. A little strange. But I try to appreciate any quiet, non-children moments, so I sat back, relaxed, and enjoyed the ride. After I told the driver I don’t speak Czech (which, along with “I don’t understand” and “I don’t know” is my most common Czech phrase) he turned up the radio and left me alone.

Oh, but the quiet did not last for long. I was dreading the whole travelling thing. I wasn’t too worried about the older boys, but I was afraid the baby would be fussy or straight out screamy, and that it would be up to me to make him happy. That was the case in the airport, but at least in the airport you can walk around and watch the airplanes. So he was calm and happy. We met a little Czech girl who was going to Dubai, too, and so she played with us for a while.

Then the plane started boarding. I kept waiting for the “Passengers with small children or others requiring assistance please begin boarding” call, but evidently they don’t do that on the airline we were flying. (A Czech company). Instead, it was a boarding free-for all. Which normally I wouldn’t mind but we had so many bags and so many children and the stroller, so trying to juggle the baby and his gear while loading the overhead bins while people glared at you for standing in the aisle was not much fun.

I was surprised but quite relieved when Eva sat the baby on her lap instead of mine. During the five hour flight I drew with Honzik, on my right, and fed the baby his yogurt on my left. I supplied Cheerios and toys and books, and my tray table became the communal desk. The baby was actually better than I thought he would be.

Don't get the wrong idea: Baby and I are good buddies now. I really enjoy being with him, and he seems quite fond of me. But he is happiest when we have lots of space and lots of different things to do. Traditionally, he has not been very cheerful when he is confined in small spaces. (But is anyone?) He screamed a little and writhed a bit trying to get comfortable, but it was not the nightmare I had envisioned. Still though, I am not anxious to fly with him again. (Though if I could find a way to bring him home with me for Christmas I totally would.)

Anyone desiring children, particularly young people, ought to fly with some as a trial. I think the birth rate would go down.

When Baby was sleeping I was able to read a little and watch the monitor. No movies, but they did have the map showing our airplane making its SLOW progress East. Weird minutes when we passed almost directly (or so it seemed) over Baghdad. The little square in the bottom right corner is the United Arab Emirates.

We arrived! It was about 6pm local time when we got there. Then began some more fun. We had checked the stroller in the breezeway, and usually they bring that kind of thing right up to you after you get off the plane. But we were told that the stroller would be at baggage claim. So we got to carry Baby (he is 15 months old and dense) through the airport to visa control. I didn’t have to get a visa (yay for my American-ity!) but the Czech people did have to have one. It is very simple to get but you have to pay for it. So I waited while they proved that they could enter the country.

There are seven Emirates in the United Arab Emirates; Abu Dhabi is the capital and has a lot of oil. Dubai is an Emirate as well as a city, and it is the biggest city in the country. Our resort was actually in another Emirate, Ras al Khamaih, about one hour and a half from the Dubai airport. There is Abu Dhabi in the middle, Dubai a bit more north up the coast, and Ras al Khaimah more north from there.

Rather than take the bus that the travel company that Eva booked all this through provided, she had ordered two cars to take us to the resort. But something had gotten messed up so we had to wait for about 45 minutes.

At first we waited inside the arrivals area but then we thought our cars had arrived so we went outside. Where we waited for about thirty minutes, directly in front of all the cab drivers, tour guides, and people holding up signs waiting for passengers. All these people were men, most of them were dressed in non-Western garb (the variety of headdress and robe is astounding! The colors and styles can be very different.)

We got some stares. I had carefully packed for the journey, recognizing that because of my appearance (thanks, Minnesotan genes) I would stand out. I brought non-form-fitting shirts with long sleeves, my looser pair of jeans, and only a few pairs of stripper heels and backless minidresses.

I think a lot of this was in my mind because I was worried about it, but I did feel more exposed and conspicuous than usual. I did not feel threatened or anything, but the stares were more overt and lasted longer than at home, and even more than Italian stares. It is weird to stand next to women covered in burkas, with only their eyes showing...you feel very different and a bit immodest. (The variety of female dress is also amazing. More on that later.) Once I picked up the baby and his little shoe caught on my shirt hem and yanked it up a little. There may have been a flash of my tummy, just a flash, but I felt like I had committed some crime. Again, I think the majority of this was only in my mind. Dubai is very Western and there were people of all kinds in all kinds of clothes.

The cars finally arrived. I held Baby on the drive to the resort. Honzik and Lukas were in the backseat with me, and they kept hitting each other. I let a little of that go, but it does bug me. So between keeping them just a teeny bit non-violent, and keeping Baby happy, it was a busy ride. I had not thought of this before, but I guess when you travel you have to deal with not having car seats and things.

Unfortunately for my mental health, I had just seen a segment on the American news about how some seat belts can literally cut children in half in an accident since they aren’t made to protect little bodies. So I was trying to figure out a way to minimize that risk by wrapping my arms around the Baby and then putting the seat belt over them...and then I realized I was being crazy and needed to take a deep breath.

The dark terrain whooshing by the windows reminded me of driving through Palm Springs one night with my dad on our way to that horrendous National Field Hockey Festival. Our flight must have arrived in the evening and so we drove to our hotel in the dark. It looked the same...flat, a bit sandy, some palm trees, faint mountains, scattered lights, signs in English. The Emirates are quite American, especially Dubai. By that I mean there is a huge emphasis on consumerism and shopping and having the biggest and the tallest and the newest. Almost everyone seems to speak English. Some stores have the left side of their sign in English and the right side in Arabic, but some just have it in English.

We finally got there.

Ras al Khaimah is not quite as crazy-extravagant and wealthy as Dubai (or as wealthy as we all thought until a few weeks ago...yikes), but they are trying to emulate Dubai. This is the view from our hotel window. I have never seen so many cranes working at once. Until I went to Dubai, that is.

We drove up to the Hilton Ras al Khamaih and unloaded. I didn’t know this, but we were supposed to be at the Hilton Ras al Khaimah Resort and Spa, which is a beachfront, all-inclusive resort. The plain Hilton is just a nice hotel with a pool. No beach, but it is creek-front, I guess. Eva was furious. I just wanted to put the kids to bed and follow them in slumber. She argued with the people at the desk for a while, and found out that the Resort was overbooked but we could move there in two days.

Finally we got to go to our rooms. I was with Eva, Baby, and Lukas. On a lumpy cot. But I was so tired and so ready for that day to end that I went right to sleep.

Pardon my whining. It does get better.

London 4

It's Museum Day, people!

After another delightful repast at Paul's in Marylebone Station we headed to the British Museum. I have wanted to visit this museum since I read Elizabeth Peters' first Amelia Peabody novel in middle school. She and her archaeological family go there whenever they are in London. I also really wanted to see the Elgin Marbles and various other items in the Greek art collection since I studied that stuff in college.

Here it is!

There is a lot of stuff in there! The galleries for the Parthenon marbles were lovely--spare and modern, which contrasted nicely with the 2,400 year old sculptures. The gallery was also full of light so you could really see the centaurs and the goddesses and the chariots. They are so beautiful--the white marble and the gorgeous shapes! I especially like the flowing cloaks. I think most of us have an image of Greek art as so white and elegant, but actually the Greeks painted their temples and sculptures, mainly in bright reds and blues. We know this from ancient descriptions and because on some objects there is still pigment hiding in deep creases. So instead of the "classic" white temples that are left today, imagine them covered in fire engine red and true blue. The British Museum had some nice scale models and details of the temple painted to show what it looked like when it was built.

Almost overshadowing the marbles themselves is the debate over who should get them. In the very beginning of the 19th century, Lord Elgin, with legal permission from the ruling Ottomans, dismantled what was remaining on the Parthenon in Athens, along with various other items on the Acropolis, and brought the stones back to England. In 1816 the British government bought the marbles from Lord Elgin and put them in the British Museum, where they have been on display ever since.

Naturally, Athens would like them back. The British Museum remains firm in its position. The same arguments surrounding almost every historical art object apply...if Lord Elgin hadn't removed them then there might not be anything left today (quite valid, since the Parthenon was in terrible shape even when Lord Elgin visited, and many of the sculptures were destroyed before he got there. Some of the worst damage to the temple was sustained in the 17th century when the Ottomans used it as an ammunition dump...the besieging Venetians bombed the Acropolis and, unsurprisingly, one of their shells hit the Parthenon. This set off the store of ammunition, blowing away the temple's roof and severely damaging the decoration.) But shouldn't they finally come back to Athens now that the Greeks are in a position to care for them? But finders keepers...But But But.

There were pamphlets available at the Museum discussing the controversy, so they aren't trying to hide it. But I doubt if there will be any resolution to this soon.

We wandered all around the Museum, which is particularly strong in ancient art and artifacts. The Museum was well organized and pretty easy to navigate. Plus, excellent (and numerous!) gift shops. I like museum gift shops.

As we were leaving we ducked into a side chamber called the Enlightenment Room. It is a themed room supposed to mimic an 18th-19th century "cabinet of curiosities" type museum place. The exhibit is built into the King's Library, which used to be George III's library. I enjoyed going from the modern and streamlined museum into this cozier room lined with shelves and books and objects of all kinds.

Interesting to have a "museum" within a museum. I am not sure which type of museum I like more. Although now that I think about it, I don't remember any objects in the Enlightenment room, just the room itself. So the cozy factor also became a distraction. Hmmm. But I still really liked being there. It reminded me of the library at the Biltmore House. I love the Biltmore House.

Here we are outside! We asked one of the guards about our route to the Museum of London and it turned into a rather long story. I guess I said "please" and "thank you" to him, and so he went off on a tangent about how polite I am, and he congratulated my mom, and then he told us how kids aren't nice anymore and how he always picks his daughter up after parties and one time this creep was there and it almost...It was very sweet but we really wanted to get going. It was cold.

We tubed it to the Museum of London, an urban history museum (one of the largest in the world) dealing with London's pre-history to the present day. I had no idea that the Romans were such a presence in London! How amazing if some of their architecture had lasted! But all those fires and invasions...

The Museum was very kid friendly and multimedia-heavy. Objects of all kinds, from ancient shoes and jewelry to Saxon weapons to 18th century paintings of London citizens and the city itself. I liked the way they brought together all kinds of sources, images, sounds, and objects. The Great Fire of London in 1666 exhibition is particularly memorable. Quotes from diaries and newspapers about the fire were printed on the backdrop, and they had fire noises playing, and paintings of the city in flames, and charred objects, etc. Pretty cool. They also have a delicious cafe...

We walked towards the Thames in order to get a view across the river of Parliament and Big Ben. We passed this church, or what used to be a church, on our way. I love how they kept the basic structure (I think it was bombed in the Blitz), but made it into a park. The aisle is still there, and the place were pews used to be are covered in roses and trees. Plants spill out of the open windows. What a beautiful, sacred way to deal with a broken church.We found it! Amidst a carnival type event with a carousel and mimes (ick) and street painters... we walked through the craziness, dodging the mimes, and pausing for pics once in a while. So very London!
Across the bridge we go!

Had to get this shot.We wandered around Parliament and Westminster Abbey again. I was already feeling a bit sad that I had to leave my mom the next morning and go back to Czech Land...
From a distance all the Parliament buildings look like smooth masses of tan stone, but up close you can see that they are very intricately carved! Amazing.

Parliament and the Union Jack.
London is a big city! I suppose I subconsciously expected Jane Austen's London or even Queen Victoria' London minus the crushing poverty and clever street urchins. But no, London is huge and modern and busy busy busy! The diversity on the streets was incredible. Prague is a bit more homogenous, and the villages outside of it are even more so, but my mom and I saw all kinds of different people in London. So many headdresses, skin colors, languages, and outfits! London felt more American in that way than I was expecting.

What a wonderful weekend! Too fast, but wonderful!

I was in the Czech Republic for a day and a half...and then Dubai! Stay tuned.

London 3

After an excellent and informative morning at the Tower of London, my mother and I strolled along the Thames. The walk was at times lovely, at times warehousy, and at times confusing. But we made it to St. Pauls!

It is a massive church designed by Sir Christopher Wren in the English "sober Baroque" style in the 17th century. The dome was inspired by St. Peter's in Rome.

This building is the latest in a long line of churches on this spot. The fourth church to be built here was called Old St. Paul's and was begun by the Normans in the 11th century. Yes, there had already been three churches there by the 11th century. London is really old. Old St. Paul's was a beautiful Gothic structure--one of the longest churches in Europe with one of the tallest spires on top. But the Great Fire of London in 1666 destroyed it, along with almost everything else, so they replaced the Gothic church with a sober Baroque one. (I think "sober Baroque" is a great term, almost an oxymoron.)

Although St. Paul's was a target during the Blitz, it escaped pretty much unscathed. It was hit three times, and one of those times was a very near thing. In 1940 a time-delayed bomb fell on the Cathedral but the bomb squad was able to remove it and detonate it in a safe location. This "safe" detonation left a 100 foot crater, so had the bomb gone off in the Cathedral not much would have been left besides some sober Baroque dust. Here is an image of the dome during the Blitz. Thanks, Wikipedia. Amazing.

Oddly, I did not get any more pictures of the church itself. Part of the reason for my uncharacteristic photographic reticence is because the church is set up pretty high in a small square and it is difficult to get far enough away to take pictures of the facade. Also, there was a big line of people waiting to get into the church, and they detracted from the sober-ness of the Baroque-osity. But the main reason--I was distracted. There was a bride!

I was more interested in the bride than the architecture. Sorry about that.

How stylish with the giant columns. She was freezing in her strapless gown. It was funny to watch that woman run up to her between shots and cover her with a coat.A bird almost took down the groom.
I am a sucker for weddings. I like the yellow flowers. Very bright and cheerful especially on a chilly November day. The crowd's reaction to the bride was also bright and cheerful. Everyone took out their cameras and snapped and oohed and ahhed and grinned. It is fun to watch people watch something happy.

This bride reminded my mother that Princess Diana and Prince Charles were married at St. Paul's. Most of the royal family's stuff happens at Westminster Abbey, but when they need a bigger venue they use St. Paul's.

My mom and I had lunch at a fun restaurant called Apostrophe by the Cathedral. After our tummies were full it was time to fill our minds. (sorry.) We got in line and watched the bride some more, and then I saw a St. Paul's person ushering people to the crypt entrance. So we headed that way and got into the church without having to wait in the line. As I mentioned before, museums are free but churches are absolutely not. The tickets to walk around in St. Paul's were quite expensive, but it is a neat building. It was more Catholic than I thought it would be. It looked a lot like St. Peter's, complete with the black snaky columns at the High Altar.

There were lots of war memorials and tombs of sailors and soldiers in the church. Most moving for us was the American Memorial Chapel behind the altar. It commemorates all the American service-people who died in WWII. There is a beautiful book with the names of 28,000 Americans who died while stationed in Britain, or on their way to the UK. Every day they turn the page of the book so that other names can be seen. The memorial was paid for by donations from the British people (!) and dedicated in 1958. It was very special to see it.

I liked St. Paul's, but as I have said before, I prefer Gothic churches. Sober Baroque is nice, but give me dark, mysterious, reaching Gothic any day. Also, I am incredibly spoiled. Having been fortunate enough to travel quite a lot in my young life, I am getting harder to impress. For ornate craziness, I don't think you can beat the Basilica di San Marco in Venice. (Although I warn you, I am a teensy bit obsessed with that city so whatever is in Venice is naturally the best.) St. Paul's was like a smaller St. Peter's, and I wasn't educated enough/interested enough/or with time enough to really explore the church. Next time I would like to make a more thorough examination of the tombs and memorials. But we weren't in the mood for intense exploration. Also, we had decided to attend a 3pm evensong at Westminster Abbey, so were understandably anxious to begin our journey there so we wouldn't be late.

We walked from the city of London, where St. Paul's is, to the city of Westminster. On the way we passed the Temple, the law courts. We had both read a P.D. James novel about a murder that takes place in the Temple, so that was fun to see it.

As I look back over my travels I am realizing how much my fiction reading impacts my reality. Is that good?

We passed by Trafalgar Square. This shot has Nelson's Column on the left and the National Museum on the right.

The Museum:

This is Admiralty Arch, built in honor of Queen Victoria. It is right next to Trafalgar Square.
And now that famous landmark...
Big Ben! It is beautifully golden.

Westminster Abbey is right in the middle of a busy part of London. Big Ben and Parliament are right there, so it seemed odd to find such a beautiful, quiet, ancient (10th century though perhaps even 7th) church in that busy spot.

Once at the Abbey we asked an official looking person about evensong.

We were ushered past the tourist lines and through a side door straight into the choir of the church. There were not that many people. Surprising, since it is free, extraordinary, wonderful, and not that long, and since the church is closed to tourists during the services so the only way you can see it is to attend one.

My mom and I sat in the choir. We were lucky since the people who came in after us had to sit in normal chairs near the altar. The boys choir with some men, too, filed in wearing red robes with white ruffs. The little boys were adorable. My mom and I were practically sitting next to them. One little boy had super cute round glasses with black frames and he kept staring at me. When I looked at him he would look away really fast, but then I would catch him again a minute later. I wanted to wave but I didn't think that it would be appropriate.

The little boys were so well-behaved and professional. Which reminded my of my little boys...since they are the opposite. If Honzik had been in the choir he would have hit his neighbor a few seconds in, and Lukas would have gotten out of his seat and started dancing in the aisle.

The music was wonderful. Most of the service was music, which suited me. It was so cool to be there! Thank you, Mom, for suggesting we go! I highly, highly recommend that you attend something in Westminster Abbey if you are ever in London, even if you are not religious at all. It is a breathtaking building with so much history, and it is amazing to sit there and hear the music and watch the choir sing and the clerics process. The only downside is that we didn't have much time after the service to wander around the church.

I have an urge to learn more about the Abbey, especially as it pertains to the Royal Family. Every English monarch since 1066 that has had a coronation has been crowned in Westminster Abbey. It was neat to spend the morning at the Tower and watch the videos of Queen Elizabeth II being crowned in the Abbey, and then spend the afternoon in Westminster a few feet from where the coronations happen. Although I did not want to, I could feel myself becoming more and more fascinated with the Royal Family while I was in London. It is such a weird institution that is so outdated in so many ways yet continues to exist and prosper. I want to know who keeps track of all the ceremonies and protocols. I want to know what counts among the Queen's possessions and what belongs to the country. I want to know what it is like to be a servant at Buckingham Palace or Balmoral. Thankfully, this budding obsession is un-budding since I returned from London.

It was rather intriguing to compare Germany and the Czech Republic with England in regards to their attitudes towards their respective histories. England seems fiercely proud of itself and pretty fascinated by its history. Almost narcissistic. But you can understand that since their history is awfully extraordinary, and for the most part positive. At least, they were on the "right" sides in the World Wars and their monarchy continues to exist when almost all other have crumbled. They have produced a lot of great people and have been the conquerors instead of the conquered. I think that last fact makes a big difference in the psyche of a nation. Of course, England has done awful things, too. But they still seem rather proud of that stuff, like their past empires, their treatment of Ireland, and their colonies even though that has caused a lot of trouble. The brutality of their monarchs and things like Jack the Ripper are more cheeky tourist tales than embarrassments. I guess when you have such an absurdly long history you can start to giggle at what was once horrific. And there is a difference between being the victimizers and the victims, as I shall discuss now.

Germany, as I believe I have beaten relentlessly into this blog, has some trouble with their past. There is an odd combination of terrible guilt and perhaps a hint of pride at what they have done. I don't mean that people are proud of World War II or the Holocaust--not at all--but that, like England, they were conquerors, not the conquered. So although they did horrible things with their power, they were powerful, incredibly so. And that can give a boost to a nation's confidence.

Now, the Czech Republic is a different kettle of dumplings and meat. They have mainly been the conquered. And that makes a big difference. This is a gross over-simplification, but in their thousand year history, the Czechs have been free and independent for about 40 years. It is pretty sad when you think about it. I mean, Czechoslovakia was given to Hitler as part of the ill-fated appeasement. Sort of a "if we give you this country will you leave the rest of us alone? Okay, then, sorry Czechoslovakia." This had its advantages--for instance, Prague wasn't bombed during the war. But come on. The Czech Republic just celebrated the 20th anniversary of the Velvet Revolution, when the Communists were finally overthrown in 1989. But people today are extremely disappointed in their government. Democracy hasn't been the magical panacea.

Basically, the point of this rather long tangent was that I noticed a huge difference in England and the Czech Republic as regards their attitudes towards the past and future. England seems so proud and nationalistic, ready for what comes because look at what we have accomplished! On the contrary, the Czech Republic is a bit more subdued. More sullen than proud, more "if we stay quiet will everyone leave us alone?" than "Hear us roar!" The hope of England is not as evident here. (This is an interesting article about the Czech Republic and this same sort of stuff if you are interested.)

So--take away points. Go to a service in Westminster Abbey. Don't become a Royal Family freak. Countries are diffe--wait, is that a bride? Where is my camera???