On today’s tour, our guide walked us through the history of communism in the Czech Republic. It was both fascinating and terrifying to hear about the grip the Soviets had on the country as well as trace the physical evidence of the regime through the streets. During the years leading up to the Velvet Revolution in 1989, Czechs were led to believe lies about the world around them and forced to submit to the government that propagated them. For example, our tour guide confided in us that her history textbooks growing up depicted Russia as the sole liberator of Europe in WWII, minimizing or altogether omitting the US’ influential presence in the war. Grocery stores stocked only one, government-approved brand of each item. And all public figures and employees were forced to openly profess whether they supported or rejected communist ideals, risking the safety of their careers and families. During this time, the Czech were essentially silenced and forbidden to have original thought.

The tour ended with a visit to the John Lennon wall, an unofficially designated space where political graffiti was painted by Czech youth during the 80s. Despite the best efforts of local authorities, the wall has remained a tangible example of the power of freedom of expression, all inspired by Lennon’s pacifism. Even much of the world’s pop music was banned during the communist era.

Since the fall of communism in ’89, the Czech have been embraced the joys and the struggles that come with freedom. Today, the wall is the only place in the city where graffiti is legal, and it is open to the public at all times of the day for free. Because of the sight’s rich history and visual appeal, it’s definitely worth checking out next time you’re in the area.

During our visit, one street artist glued his hand-made tiles to the wall while an off-key guitarist sang “Imagine.” It was a beautifully candid moment as colors loomed behind them. The wall has seen an entire different form of government rise and fall out of power, the whole time standing firm alongside the Czech people themselves.

It’s no secret that Europe is a gold mine when it comes to magnificent spaces of worship. The Gothic-style St. Vitus Cathedral at Prague Castle is one of the Czech Republic’s most significant religious sites. Nearly 600 years passed between the time its foundation was laid and its consecration in 1929. The first halt in its construction occurred at the beginning of the 15th century because of the Hussite Wars, after which the rest of the building slowly trickled into place. While you have to buy a ticket and wait in long entry lines to get into the cathedral on the weekdays, Sunday masses are open to the public and are generally filled to the brim with visitors.

Gothic cathedrals are defined by their high-rising yet delicate design that seems to scrape heaven itself. They typically include large spaces carved out for stained-glass windows, flying buttresses that support its soaring structure, and at least one circular rose window on the church’s frontal facade. The man pictured above had parked himself in a pew toward the front of the nave where he stayed even after mass had ended, the glittering rose window shining behind him.

Celebrating the Eucharist in such significant churches for the past three weekends has been a privilege, but yesterday I finally decided to shoot photos of the various people congregated. It was also my first time to hear mass said in the local language, which led to a whole host of insights I could write an entire second blog post about. Yet, what gets me most excited about these European masses is the amount of non-parishioners that get to experience just a sliver of the beauty of Catholicism through visiting cathedrals like St. Vitus.

I don’t know whether this man was a faithful church-goer, or if this was the first mass he’d ever been to. Maybe he was only there on a Sunday so he didn’t have to pay to see the church otherwise. I didn’t ask because it didn’t matter to me. He was present, marveling at the architecture of a space meant to point toward something greater. And I would recommend everyone take advantage of St. Vitus being free for mass no matter their intentions for attending; the very act of visiting gives them just a taste of something bigger, and that’s enough for me.