“A FLOURISHING”

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.

“STAREDOWN”

Noticed

There’s no denying that Prague is a place of beauty, but the city and its people can also be harsh in a lot of ways. One of the most unnerving parts about Czech culture, in my opinion, is the staring. Whether it’s riding a metro or walking past a restaurant, there are always a few sets of eyes staring at you, tracking you as you walk and talk. To the Czechs, this is only normal. I think they stare at each other just as much as they stare at foreigners. But as someone who was taught it was rude to stare, it’s hard to brush it off as people’s gazes linger. I’m slowly growing used to it.

The man pictured above was sitting near the Vltava taking a smoke break, his sunken face looking down at his lap. He is only one of the many of the shady characters we encounter daily walking around the city, many of whom go unnoticed as they lurk in shadow. They tend to keep to themselves, which makes them feel less threatening. As I walked by, he looked up and locked eyes with me. I’ve learned to embrace these sometimes awkward moments when my nonchalant shooting is exposed. Rather than let my jitters get the best of me, I just raised my camera and snapped a picture. I’m not sure he liked me making his photo, but I’m not sure I liked him staring. So I think that makes us even.

“SMALL BUT MIGHTY”

Small Wonder

My classmates and I have been blown away by the amount of babies and young children we’ve seen out and about with their families in Prague. It feels like kids are everywhere, and I’m certainly not complaining about encountering so many precious souls. Yet, after looking up fertility rates and birth statistics, we learned that the average amount of children per family is actually quite a bit lower in the Czech Republic than it is in the US. There has to be some other explanation as to why it feels like little humans rule the world here in Prague, and I’ve come up with my own theory based on conversations with some locals.

I hypothesize that American parents shelter their kids far more than Czechs do, attempting to control every environment and encounter their children have in the name of safety. I’ve witnessed it firsthand back home; many of my friends and family members are obsessively protective of their babies. Czechs, on the other hand, must prioritize exposing their little ones to the world at a young age, exposing them to everyday situations in the hopes of toughening them up. Admittedly, statistics say that Czechia does have far less crime than in the US. But I think that as a whole Americans are controlled more by fear than anything else, and I see that even more clearly after spending weeks here in Europe.

The toddler standing above, who could not have been older than two or three years old, was riding the escalator down to the metro without even holding hands with her mother. In fact, her mom’s face was glued to her phone right up until the two reached the bottom. The child never lost her balance, and no one gave her a second glance. Such a scene would be unheard of in the States, but I see so much value in the Czechs’ way of raising kids.

“THE CZECH DANDY”

Noticed

Coming to the end of our third week, I thought I had Czechs figured out. They are a quiet people that keep to themselves. They love to stare. Most of them aren’t very warm, despite the polite “dobry den” they issue every time they greet someone. Their dress is simple, not flashy. They teach their children what it means to work hard and be tough from a young age.

But when I came across this old man playing a music box on the cobblestone streets of Cesky Krumlov, he seemed to contradict a lot of these characteristics. He was always smiling and laughing, especially when he had a crowd around him. His outfit looked like he’d bought it straight out of an old-timey barber shop, perfectly complementing the happy melody issuing from his music box. His body was a little frail, yet there was an air of content about him. It almost seemed as though he performed for the sheer pleasure of it rather than making money.

While his kind demeanor and dapper outfit may well have all been an act, I’d like to believe his distinct persona showed me that there’s more to Czech culture than often meets the eye, even after spending several weeks living amongst these people. Distilling an entire culture into one type of person is something I now know I need to be careful of; there are many different details that contribute to building a group of people.

“THE CHASE”

Architecturally Speaking

Cesky Krumlov is a place designed as though for Disney princesses. The quintessential European small-town, its narrow cobblestone streets and glorious river have put it on the map as a Czech Republic tourist hotspot. Not to mention its adorable houses. The name of the town itself comes from the bend in the river that forms its shape; its layout almost reminds me of Horseshoe Bend in Arizona.

Lunch today consisted of simple sandwiches on the riverside under the shade of umbrellas, a simultaneously modest yet glamorous experience. The bright sun warmed our world to a healthy 75 degrees. We watched as hundreds of kayakers paddled down the river, some bumping into each other and almost flipping over, with the perfect small-town building backdrop. There is easy access to the river from most buildings and restaurants that line it, and the little boy above was taking full advantage of its close proximity.

He chased the several ducks that ventured onto the shore up and down the water’s edge, his parents watching from the deck of the restaurant a few tables away from us. When I asked his dad for permission to make some photos, he gave an enthusiastic yes. As it turns out, several groups of tables had been watching this little boy run back and forth. They laughed good-naturedly as the ducks escaped his reach every time, but that didn’t stop him from trying again. His contagious joy entertained us for the rest of lunch, an afternoon well spent away from the busyness of Prague.

“UNIVERSAL”

The Nocturnalist

Yesterday evening, a small group of students and I participated in a local Czech photography club meet up, which sent us searching the streets of Prague at dusk for some photo-worthy moments. Eventually we found ourselves strolling along the scenic Vltava River, which was packed with pedestrians just after sunset. It was Tuesday night social hour, and there was no shortage of characters to photograph.

Again, it’s an everyday human interaction that catches my eye first. As we approached a slope that met the river below, we noticed a crowd of swans had formed around a young couple. It soon became obvious that the two were feeding the bird bits of rohlíky, a Czech staple bread that you can pick up at almost any grocery store in the city. The swans seemed to offer a delicate—rather than desperate—approach to consuming the pair’s offerings, unlike typical American pigeons or ducks. How European of them.

I love that feeding birds is a fascination of people across the globe. Though there have been times where I’ve struggled to relate to the starkly different customs of Czech people, ever so small commonalities like these remind me that we all share one human nature. I’m grateful that even tiny universals can serve a bigger purpose.

“SON, MY SON”

Not From These Parts

Today was a heavy day, as are most of the days my classmates and I visit significant World War II sights. Our afternoon excursion to Lidice, a village evacuated and then subsequently decimated by Nazi Germany in 1942, weighed heavy on my heart. The Germans razed the city to the ground to make an example out of the Czechs whom they believed played a role in the assassination of SS General Reinhard Heydrich. As it turns out, the British paratroopers who completed the mission were hiding out in a church crypt in Prague, where they were found several weeks and hundreds of deaths later.

What is left of the small town now is only the foundations of its church, alongside several memorials to those who lost their lives. All in all, the Nazis murdered 340 innocent Lidice villagers, 82 of which were children killed in a gas chamber. The exhibits at Lidice’s museum emphasized the intense pain many women in the town felt as they were separated from their children without warning or explanation, and I carried a little sliver of that pain with me as we journeyed back home.

But encountering the woman and her son above at the Wallenstein Gardens provided time for even further reflection. The love with which she kept her son safe on the edge of the pond was tender; her actions spoke louder than any words I could have exchanged with her. Her son bore a look of pure awe on his face the entire time, captivated by more by the scene in front of him than her. The two were tourists, spending the day in a new place. She stood steadfast behind him the entire time, holding him with gentle arms.

Observing this mom brought me back full circle to the stories of the mothers from Lidice, but I felt more encouraged than sad walking away from that scene. I would likely never have thought twice about such an unassuming exchange without the gravity of history at the forefront of my mind. Acknowledging the significance of even the simplest human interactions is a skill I hope to hone, so today a personal victory emerged from the pain.

“SANCTUS”

Weekend Miser

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.

“GOLDEN HOUR AT THE MUSEUM”

Architecturally Speaking

The National Gallery (Národní galerie Praha) // 6.9.2019

Once a year each June, Prague holds a city-wide museum night. There’s no cost of entry, special bus lines transport visitors even to the farthest of museums, and the hours typically end at 1 a.m. All in all, 45 different institutions participate in this public event, and we heard advertisements played over the speakers at every metro stop for days leading up to last night.

My friends and I decided to make the trek to the National Gallery, which was a massive building comprised of a towering atrium defined by the six stories of walkways that encircled it. The sixth floor hosted a black-and-white photography exhibit that centered on a few different photographers’ documenting of the very “foundations” of human society. This immediately caught our attention, and it was incredibly inspiring to see the powerful work photographers are doing out in the field.

All the same, I was just as struck by the art of the building itself. Its soft white walls reflected the deep gold of the setting sun through its large windows during our visit, and the minimalism of features like its thin banisters keep the focus on its open, inviting form. There’s plenty of room for visitors to move through exhibits, though some of the floors lacked art displays altogether. The space only enhanced the visual experience of visiting an art museum, a benefit I hope visitors don’t take for granted.

“THEM”

Location Notations

Charles Bridge (Karlův most) // 6.8.2019

One of the things I’ve found most culturally appealing about Prague is its level of tourism at this time of year; of the places I’ve visited in my life so far, the city seems to strike a happy-medium between the over-commercial and the local. Even some of the most scenic or historically significant parts of Prague have been less crowded than I’d expect during early summer. But I’ve also been warned by my professor that, come the end of our study program, popular places like Old Town Square will be so bustling with tourists that you can’t see the concrete of the plaza.

There’s something special to be said about the timing of our trip and the many sites we’ve visited outside the hustle and bustle of tourist season. While having more English speakers in the area would make certain things easier, stripping away the buzz of tourism leaves so much more room for true culture to shine through. I’d like to label myself as a student distinct from a tourist. Indeed my fellow students and I fill 95% of the space on our cameras with pictures of the local culture per our assignments, trying our best to blend in with our surroundings. Yet, admittedly there are little moments throughout our days where I’d love to strike a pose in front of the stunning scenery that constantly surrounds us.

The girl pictured above started modeling right next to a group of us who were soaking in the perfect weather on a ledge near Charles Bridge. She looked so effortless and confident as she posed that it was impossible for me not to pull out my own camera to grab a few shots, catching the tourist in the act with a beautiful scene to frame her. I bet the Instagram photos she got from that shoot were all things glamorous.

Bohemian blogging

a study-abroad photo project by Arianna Flores