Thoughts on Living in Prague II
The other tram speeds past my window, making me think of that poem by Someone Famous about watching people on a subway and how their faces were like wet petals plastered against a branch, and I think that guy was right and that there’s no way I could say it any better.
The first night it snowed I was standing outside at the tram stop ready to get in and go home. The flakes came down and spoke of snow and nature and I stared up into the sky at them. A wind gusted and they swirled around the church spire, powdering the window ledges, brushing the stained glass, blanketing the bushes and trees growing around the holy concrete walls and I decided that I could not ride the tram, not tonight, and I started walking home, continually looking up at the white snow falling from the dark sky and I smiled and could not stop smiling because it was winter in Prague and it was snowing.
A couple entered the tram today, and with them were two wolf-dogs. The dogs were muzzled and on leashes as thick as my wrist, but they still seemed dangerous, seemed wild. Their fur was tan, tipped with black. They were lean and narrow, their tails long and bushy. They hunched their heads like predators on the hunt, their pyramid ears pricked up at every sound. Their eyes were what thrilled me most— yellow, with a perfect black pupil in the center. The kind of eyes that would look out at you from behind a bush or the shadow of a tree. The kind of eyes that would be the last thing you’d ever see.
I bought water today, two large gallon jugs of it. Each jug is equipped with a handle for easy carrying. It felt strange, walking up the modern day streets, boarding a tram, while holding a water jug on either side of me. I felt like the provincial country girl returning from the well. In a way I was— strange juxtaposition of era and purpose. In the end we can’t escape from it— our humanity.
Wenceslas Square becomes very different at night. The darkness shrouds the fancy buildings, the ancient architecture, and all you can see are shadows in the lamplight, while along both sides of the square blaze the neon signs, creating worlds of their own. Bright and eye-popping they beckon, advertise. Whispers during the day they become shouting voices at night, stealing your attention, distracting your eyes with unnatural colors. They are not for the night but against it, cutting into it, waging war against the darkening of things, yet without which they would be nothing. The square is buildings and statue by day but restaurants and clubs and cabaret (pulsings of neon suggestion) by night. Some cities are completely owned by the neon signs at night. Prague is not yet, and therefore the signs stand out more in their awkward unnaturalness, filled with that in-your-face-attitude that comes from all such trashy man-made products. What are they really? The screaming of some poor pathetic inventor to be noticed in the face of the infinite starry sky.
Tags: Czech Republic, Europe, living abroad, Prague, Travel
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Hi, My friend and I are going to Prauge to do this TEFL course and teach english. I have been to Europe before and can relate to a lot of what you have shared in your blog. Ive never been to Eastern Europe, as close as I have been is Germany and once tukey, I found your thought on living in Prauge inspirational and intriguing would love to hear more about your adventures there and what it was like living there,have any suggestions? Or insights for the young.nrIm 20 and my friend is to turn 19 next year and we both are nervous and excited about going to Prauge with the TEFL program. nrnrWe both have some worries on money, the american influence(which we both want to get away from)and other strange insights like the language. nrI speake spannish, some german, and enlgish. Im from Mexico, born and raised there with an american mom, hence my english. I would love to contact you further and maybe pick your brain???nrnrThank younrIndia (and her friend Nico lanson)