End of Camp 1

Ok guys, this is the last post that I wrote before I left for camp. Today is July 13th, which means that I'm leaving today to go to Vienna. I can't wait. I will hopefully have internet during my travels and I'll be able to tell you all about the camp. I do know that no one is picking us up from the train station when we get to camp, which means we have a nice 6km walk to the camp from the train station! (So Much Fun!--not) Also, I'll be able to tell you about the students, the funny ones, the shy ones, the great moments, and the bad. In Budapest, we plan on going to see all the sights on the first day, then go out to enjoy the city at night, and then the next day we are going to spend the afternoon at the bath, which Hungary is famous for. We have no plans for Vienna right now, but I'm sure we'll be able to figure everything out when we get there. In the meantime, I really miss everyone and I'm sorry to all those people who I can't call anymore. I'll be sure to check-in with my parents when I get to Vienna and I'm really sorry I haven't posted pictures in a while. I have tons from Prague and hopefully from the camp. I'll be sure to do that when I return from camp.

Cherry Cola and An Eye Opener

Apparently, Cherry Coke is a rare commodity here in Central Europe and a huge American stereotype. I didn't even notice it when one of our trainees was talking to me about American stereotypes and she said, "All you Americans have your flip flops, shorts, sunglasses and Cherry Coke." I laughed at the general idea of an American looking like that, because--in fact--I fit this stereotype very well as I walk through Prague. I don't have capris, I wear my sunglasses, I have shorts and I wear flip flops that click with every step I take. The Cherry Coke thing didn't settle in until I bought a bottle of it and brought it to one of the workshops one day. As I put it down on the table, it took a few minutes for everyone to notice, but eventually they did.  "What is this?" they asked. "Just Cherry Coke, Why?" They were so confused. "What do you mean 'Cherry' Coke?" It was hard to explain that it just had cherry flavoring in it, but for people who had never heard of Cherry Coke they were flabbergasted. It then escalated to everyone having to try my cherry coke. Most of them didn't like it, saying it was too sweet, but I just had to laugh because to me, there really isn't that much of a difference between cherry coke and regular coke. It is sweeter, but to me it's a normal beverage. I guess the rest of the world just doesn't enjoy Cherry Coke as much as Americans do.

 "An Eye-Opener"

One really cool thing I forgot to mention happened one day when Jenny and I were going to pick up my Green Day ticket from the Ticket Pro office in Prague. We were walking toward the office and we passed by a public square where there was a black tent with no windows or anything. I asked her what was going on and she told me that the sign/words on the side of the tent said something about blind people. I knew right away what it was. It was a blind person restaurant. These are the "new" thing to do in big cities. Paris, Hong Kong, Tokyo and New York all boast these blind experience restaurants. Let me explain a little bit. These restaurants were designed by an artist, not a restaurant owner. They are designed with no windows and there are no lights inside. You cannot bring your cellphone inside or anything that emits light. Before you enter the restaurant, a blind waiter (the entire staff is blind), asks how many people in your party and then leads you to your table. To find your table, you need to hold the hand of your waiter as they navigate you through the tables and chairs inside. You cannot see anything, but they know the way. The menu is fixed, so you pay the same price per person and do not need to read a menu to decide what you are going to eat. The waiter pours your wine, serves your food and helps you with anything you may need. It's supposed to be a surreal experience. You cannot even see the face of the friends or family you are dining with. The blind people are the only source of communication within the restaurant. They show you where the restrooms are if you need them and they also help you find the way out. I thought it was awesome to see this in Prague. Although it was temporary and probably very expensive, I really wanted to go. Maybe in New York I'll take someone there to enjoy this experience with me!

Life In Prague

"Dog Days"

In Prague, I was quite surprised to see that most of the dogs don't even have leashes when they are being walked on the street. Not only that, but there are so many dogs in general. Small dogs, big dogs, chihuahuas, docksons, and German Shepherds. The thing that makes this so remarkable to me, is that there are no leashes and the dogs are so well behaved. On the subway, they lay down on the ground next to their owners, while walking in the park, they don't stray too far from the path, and everywhere around the city the dogs in general are very well trained and well behaved. The funniest part about this whole thing is that Ekta and Zhou Lin are both afraid of dogs. And by afraid, I mean petrified of them. Ekta can't even walk on the same street as a dog, cowering every time they come near. Even for the smallest ones, she thinks they are vicious people-eating monsters. It's quite comical. Ana (from Brazil) always has to be her bodyguard when we are walking in public and the dogs come. She stands in between Ekta and the dogs, even though they never do anything more than sniff around and pee on trees. I don't think Ekta or Zhou Lin will ever get over her fear of dogs, no matter how many types we see or how many times we see them, but it'll never get old to see Ekta running around, avoiding the dogs path or to hear Zhou Lin squeek and hide.

"Morning Rituals"

One thing I wanted to talk about, was the morning ritual that we have to go through every day. With four people living in the living room of Jenny's house, we have three of us sleeping on the floor. We've removed all the cushions from the couches and use three to sleep on. This means that there is nothing to sit on when we use the couches and that the floor is covered by three makeshift beds. Every morning, when one alarm goes off, we all are forced to wake up to the other's schedule. Sometimes, the alarm is just snoozed, the person goes to shower, and then we really have to get up to turn off the ringtone. Speaking of showers, there are 4 people, using one bathroom, and none of us want to wake up to be the first to shower. This means that every morning, we wake up an hour before we have to leave, and somehow, one by one, we shower and get ready. Sometimes, we are forced to all get ready within 30 minutes because by the time we wake up, we've already wasted 20 minutes of the morning still laying in bed. It's the funniest when we wake up, and need to catch the train, and all of us are running around the living room, moving from suitcase to kitchen to bathroom to suitcase again. Each of us running into each other's path and getting in each other's way. There's also the fact that there are 4 girls and I. Which means that every morning, I have to deal with them doing their hair, picking their clothes and just taking forever to get ready for the day. I'm always shouting out "10 minutes left" or "5 minutes left" or even "Guys, we were supposed to leave 2 minutes ago!" I don't know how I survived the past two weeks like this...

Czech Out My Shirt

One time, while waiting in the train station for my train, I was sitting on the bench, tired and hot. I couldn't really get comfortable and I can remember this was only my second day in Prague. I was really tired and gross from walking around all day and really wanted nothing more than to just go home (have no hill to climb) and rest. As I was sitting on the bench, eyes closed, I felt a little tug on my shirt. It was the guy next to me. He pointed to my shirt, which kind of looks like it has paint spatter on it, and said something in Czech. I obviously didn't understand him, so I kind of mumbled something like "I don't speak Czech" and smiled. He continued on, using gestures and still speaking Czech to me. He was pointing to my shirt and using a painting motion his shirt. By this time, I think he was trying to ask me if I had painted the design on my t-shirt. I said no, and shook my head and moved my arms. He pointed to my shirt again and said something. OK, now I'm getting tired of this. I once again tried to convey that I didn't speak Czech. The older man, who was wearing a dirty t-shirt with grease stains on his rounded belly and gray hair with a stubbly beard, refused to not talk to me. He heard me say something about English, so he was mumbling something and I said "American" and he said "Arab?". I said no, "American" and he said "Muslim?". By this point, I was so confused and had decided that this conversation was going no where. I said no again, and then he said, "Gypsy". I said no no no no no and he responded by pointing to himself and saying again, "I Gypsy". OK. By now I figured he might be Hungarian or something but I didn't really know where he was going with this. I smiled and said OK and then turned away, hoping to end the conversation. He kind of mumbled a little bit more, but I think he got the idea that I was confused and can't really have a conversation with him when I don't speak his language. When my train arrived at the platform, I left, smiled and waved at the guy, who waved back and smiled. It was an oddly bizarre encounter, but after telling Jenny about it, she said it's very common for Czech people to try and communicate with foreigners in this way. She said she has had friends who have hosted English speaking foreigners and whose parents would talk to them in Czech. When the visitors would respond in English or not at all, they would continue to speak--either slower or louder or both. It's kind of like when someone can't hear you after you say something and you have to speak with emphasis on every word, like "Do--You--Under--Stand--What--I'm--Saying--To--You". I laughed about the whole situation and took the experience as a compliment. The old man liked my shirt. Great.

I Can't Believe It's Not Butter

There's a lot of things about the Czech Language that makes it hard to live in Prague. The language is hard to read, understand and speak. When we first arrived, it was enough work to get around on our own, but we also discovered the language barrier in other places as well. The funniest thing that happened was when Ana went to the grocery store to buy a few things. I'm not sure who she was with, but they had bought the normal things, bread, eggs, butter, milk, etc. When I got home, everyone was laughing hysterically. Ana offered me buttered bread, but I didn't want it so I just said "No Thanks". Everyone was a little disappointed and kept offering me the bread. I usually don't eat bread anyway, so I told them that I really don't want it but thanks anyway. After a failed attempt, they caved in and told me what happened. Apparently, the butter Ana bought, wasn't butter at all, but a stick of yeast used to raise dough. She had already eaten several pieces of "buttered" bread, before Jenny came home and asked who was eating this stuff. We waited all night for her stomach to explode, but I guess nothing happens when you eat a bunch of yeast.

Kids and Trams

"Kids"

One of the first couple days I was living in Prague, I was walking to the train station by myself to find a school group climbing the hill. There was a teacher and little kids lined up single file in two lines. As I passed by the class, I smiled at their plastic bookbags and little kid clothing. The boys in shorts with their socks pulled up high and the girls with their pigtails and shorts, you could tell they were ready for a field trip. I passed the class and laughed at the simple nature of kids, but thought it was even funnier when I passed the second teacher with two boys who just couldn't make it up the hill without having to go to the bathroom. With no where to go, they obviously had to make a pit-stop, while the rest of the class waited further up the hill. When I passed them though, their pants were down and their butts hanging out while myself, and a few other people commuting to work, walked past them. I couldn't help but laugh. Childhood is clearly universal. Kids will be kids and they will always wait until just the right moment to tell you they have to go to the bathroom.

"Trams"

I may have mentioned that Prague has an extensive network of trams and railways. I'm actually in awe of the amount of public transportation that is used every day for such a small town. Prague is only 1.5 million people, but if you take a look at their subway, trams, and train map, you can see that this city has a lot of ways to get around. It's pretty cool.

The Hill

Alright. So by now, I've started the camp and these posts are just being put online automatically on random days at random times. They are a collection of random stories that I have written down as memories throughout my time here in Prague. I hope you enjoy them and as soon as I have internet in Vienna or Budapest, I'll be able to post again (or tell you about the first camp).

"The Hill"

Roztoky is a beautiful place to live. The town is quiet, the people are nice and the houses are beautiful. There is only one small--maybe large--problem. The Hill.

The Hill, as it is now called among us, is the worst thing about Roztoky. Every day, twice a day or more, we need to descend and ascend this monstrosity. It is on the way to the train station and is about a quarter mile long and when I say hill--I mean a steep, steep hill. It's bad enough in the mornings, when we're tired, and carrying our various backpacks, bags, and sometimes eggs and food, and we get to the hill and have to stop ourselves from falling down this hill. Each step we're holding ourselves back and trying to bend our knees to absorb the shock of our legs pattering down on the concrete.  But that's only the beginning. Imagine the evenings, when we're tired, and it's late at night and we've worked all day. The last thing we want to do after a nice relaxing 15 minute train ride, is to climb up the damn hill.

The Hill.

I can't even think about it without getting riled up. There have been the hot days, when there is no shade, and we're climbing up the hill just sweating and panting. And there's the nights we've gone out, coming home after a 4:41 AM train, after a night out, tired from dancing and drinking, and as the morning sun begins to brighten the day we have to climb the hill. And all we want to do is to go to bed and sleep the morning away.... Then there is Ekta. Who ascends the hill about as fast as a snail crosses the highway. In the morning after a night out, we wait for her to come up the hill or after a long day of work, we yell at her to hurry up as she trudges up the hill, one itsy bitsy step at a time. We can't even walk as slow as she does up the hill, because it hurts our legs too much to do so. We have nightmares about the hill. We have random moments during the day, when we're leaving the subway and see steps, and have flashbacks that remind us of the terrible hill. It's quite comical how often the hill is discussed every day, because it really is that bad. I guess you have to be here to know, but just keep in mind--the hill is a terrible thing and a tragedy that plagues us every day.

I will not miss the hill when I come home, nor will I ever miss it.