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June 29, Prague
We got in to Prague in the late afternoon on Thursday and hung around for a while doing very little before going to the hotel.
First impressions: this place is gorgeous it is absolutely stunning and I never want to leave. Vienna looked like something out of an oil painting or a history book; Prague looks like something out of a dream. There are very familiar elements mixed in with completely foreign ones. Much of the architecture on the more common buildings is classical, for example, but none of the faces are the traditional, straight-nosed Greek ones we're used to seeing. Much more of the architecture is rounded-not decoratively, like baroque stylings, but as a fundamental part of its shape. Everything is colorful, too. My tour guide today mentioned that during communist rule, everything was gray-the buildings, the people, the countryside-both literally and metaphorically, and that after the Berlin wall came down the city burst into color. She wasn't lying-Prague could give San Francisco a run for its money.
Also, the Czech word for Prague is Praha. What the fuck, America.
So. Clara and I had gnocci and coffee at a cute little cafe (Clara is miserably sick and didn't want to walk around; I had a migraine and didn't want blinding Czech crystal accosting me) and then our bus driver got lost, but the hotel is ridiculously upscale-there's supposedly a spa, a nail salon, a pool, a club, a really nice restaurant, and an indoor paintball arena (this came via John and therefore is probably 99% not true) here. Also wireless internet. I guess the Czechs have advanced past feudalism! I'm still too tired to use any of it, but I have one more night.
This morning I woke up at 7 to talk to you all on facebook. Consider the sacrifice I made there. We left on a sightseeing tour that morning, and it was possibly the best guided tour I've ever been on, thanks to the wonderful guide. I kind of fell madly in love with her and everything she said. Apparently the Czechs, while nominally Catholic, are pretty restive and close to rebelling against the religion; the religious landmarks (and oh, are there religious landmarks here) are seen more as symbols of national and historical significance than anything else. This effectively eliminated nearly all cognitive dissonance I had about the AMAZING BEAUTIFUL CATHEDRAL here. The cathedral is beautiful, by the way. Also, there's a photography exhibit in the castle gardens-it's a bunch of black-and-white pictures of naked people, and the titles are all biblical references. In the castle gardens, a very historical, touristy spot, they have wacko modern art. Also a street band playing the New World Symphony on flute, accordion, and bass.
Czech history is really interesting/entertaining. Example: they didn't like the imposition of Catholicism by Ferdinand (...I think it was Ferdinand?), so they threw bishops out of windows. Prague also has a perfect mix of period influences-there are little hints of medieval art among all the classical and baroque buildings and high-rise apartments. There's the occasional anti-commie graffiti, and one of my favorite posters was of a Russian doll with huge fang-like teeth-for a new communism museum.
Most of the population, says my tour guide (whose name was the Czech version of Barbara), is atheist, but they have a few superstitions, too. The Charles bridge, named for King Charles who did great things I can't remember at this time of night, once weathered a huge flood without collapsing. The flood happened in 1357, on the 9th of July (9/7), at 5:31 AM, and this pyramid of odd numbers is held to be the reason for the bridge's strength. (Also, later tests found chicken proteins in samples from the bridge-it seems eggs were used in the glue.)
There is an advertisement for a classical concert on nearly every other street corner (it's excessive even for Europe), and half of them (at least) have Dvorak on the program. I picked up a flyer for the concert from hell-all Bach, Vivaldi, and Mozart with the Pachebell Canon thrown in for good measure. But that was the only bad example, I swear.
I've had random people waving/making eye contact/acknowledging my presence here than elsewhere. I was looking forlornly out the bus window this afternoon and some kid with a beer in his hand walked by and saluted me with it; people moved out of each other's way to take pictures in the cathedral. (There are also more creepy 40-year-olds staring at us, but no city's perfect...) It's making me really happy.
After the tour we had lunch, where I avoided George Lu's infectious awkwardness by talking to Theo and Jackie (who are now an absurdly cute couple) about film-Jack got into film after taking a class or something last year, and Theo is almost as passionate about French films as he is about the Dvorak (which is very). I keep finding people in this orchestra I wish I knew better before the tour started-like Jessie Belfer, who is hilarious and far, far wittier than I.
We had some more walking-around time after lunch, so Theo, Jack and I ended up wandering into a little stringed instrument shop. The man there, after we told him we were musicians here with an orchestra, offered Theo a violin to play made by a famous Czech violin maker named, of all things, Dvorak. I tried it and loved it; Theo thought it was okay. Either way, the guy was just totally willing to let us play this (probably ridiculously) expensive instrument and walk out after another customer came in. It made me really happy. Also, I want to learn mandolin.
I finally signed up for my Barnard courses, which are all things like Art History and surveys of Philosophy and random English courses. Also Russian, which I think I'm actually going through with.
After dinner, which was a really really good falafel pita, we saw Don Giovanni in the theatre where it premiered, and that was really really awesome until it started, and then it was kind of not. I think the combination of Mozart, stupid characters, stupid rapist characters, endless repetition of dialogue (i.e. normal opera), really bad seats, and sweaty clothing just wiped out any desire I had to appreciate, or appear to appreciate, something as stereotypically high-culture as opera. So yeah. The singers and orchestra were good, the scenery was nice, and I never want to hear Mozart again. About 10 minutes into the second act I crawled out from under my chair and went to the bathroom with Jack, then called Aaron. We were supposed to go find a few pints of Pilsner afterwards ("we" being Ori, Dennis, and I), but we got ice cream instead for reasons I still can't quite recall. We saw two groups of Americans on our way back-one, with kids our age, was yelling and being generally obnixious (I believe I finally understand the whole everyone-hates-Americans thing), and the other was dressed up in random costumes, including a Batman, three soccer players, a Mexican farmer guy, and a clown. I have no idea what they were doing except that they were definitely drunk. This evening Min and I were going to go to the hotel club and then were too tired.
Even the weather here is perfect-it's just the right temperature, with just enough sun to keep you happy and enough clouds to make it pretty, and occasionally it rains, which a) is nice and b) keeps all the foliage green and lush, unlike other places in which it dries out in the summer.