Praha

Before this past weekend, I had only known Praha as the hometown of my old music teachers, Peter and Zdena Klapka. After touring in a successful Central European band, they relocated to the Northeast and have been running a very effective music school in southern NH. The Little Private Music School played a major role in fostering and enhancing my passion for music, a passion that has given my life direction and solace on so many occasions. I kept the two in my mind during my entire stay in the Czech capital.

The ride to Praha offered me the chance to make a few temporary acquaintances. The first was with a local German Turk high school student. She did not speak any English, forcing me to barrel through what little German I knew to make the conversation last the entire train ride to München. I fared pretty well, with the help of my Lonely Planet pocket dictionary, and it ended with a suggestion for a good Shisha bar located south of Stuttgart (I did end up visiting the place, but it was not a recommendation I would pass along to others).

As the train crossed the Czech border, my first time in Eastern Europe was greeted by two Ukrainian drunks who hopped aboard on their way to Praha. They spoke no English and refused to admit they knew any German or Russian – nothing but Czech and Ukrainian. I, now regretfully, took them up on their offer to try their beer. As expected, it would have tasted better if they had just relieved themselves inside the bottle. Either way, it was a gesture of good faith and a gesture well received. I barely remember what was said in that cabin, largely because I had no idea what came out of their mouths. Somehow, I felt it was fitting of the scenario, and I walked away with the impression of a great start to a hopefully better weekend.

It was almost midnight when the trained got into Hlavní Nádraží, the main train station, and luckily the trams were still in service. My hostel, Sir Toby’s, was located north of the River on Dělnická, just a few steps away from the local tram stop. Though the streets were empty and quiet, the hostel was filled and lively. Those working reception spoke fluent Spanish which gave me a bit of a relief. Out of all the secondary languages I have picked up, I am most comfortable with Spanish. I checked into my room, went downstairs to their pub, ordered my first Czech Pils, and joined a group of exchange students in a game of Kings. The students are studying near Stuttgart and hailed from all over Europe – including the UK, España, Portugal, Ireland, and Finland. Most of them spoke either English or Spanish, and I was welcomed with open arms.

After the game of Kings fizzled, the exchange students all got up to go to their rooms. I was half-relieved my night was over until I found out they were all going to get dressed up rather than down. It was not the beds they were after, but the clubs. Being near 02:00, I debated going my own way. But this hostel and the experience it provided was turning out to be the closest thing to what I had imagined months before ever entering Europe. I could not let this chance go to waste! I followed them to a local club, and was reaffirmed of my distaste for European House music. The tempo was too fast to enjoy, and without any illegal substances in me, I felt wildly out of place. Still, the good company allowed me to last a good three hours. I ended up back in the hostel bed by 05:00, just before the sun peeked its head.

I woke up with a startle, my watch reading just past 10:00. It took a few minutes to realize I had less than an hour to dress and make it to the city centre to catch the Sandeman’s Free Walking Tour. I skipped breakfast, and raced toward the train station. I realized I had no ticket, and no idea of how to get one. A local couple waiting at the tram station guided me to the nearest ticket booth, giving me opportunity to launch a conversation that would eventually turn out fruitful. They had just moved to Praha two months prior, but had lived in the Czech Republic their entire lives. They spoke English very well, and were very interested in my travels abroad. I told them I was on my way to a free walking tour that meets in Old Town Square. Learning that I was brand new to the city and had little time to become familiar with its public transport system, they agreed to guide me to the center of town. Whether or not this was out of their way I will never know, but I assumed it was and was grateful for their generosity. This genuine desire to help their fellow man was a trait that I would witness the Czechs exhibit throughout the weekend.

I found the red umbrella bearing Sandeman’s name and got a ticket seconds before the groups split to start their day of exploring the sights and wonders of Praha. My tour guide, Justin, was an American history major that had been living in the city for two years. Though once an outsider, Justin’s passion for the city’s history and culture echoed that of the Sandeman tour guide that led me through Berlin. I hope the same trait is present in all my future Sandeman tour guides.

I walked with the group for the next three hours, seeing the various chapels, cathedrals, synagogues, concert halls, graveyards, government buildings, and pop culture landmarks (Michael Jackson seemed to have made a big impression on the Czechs). Praha was a beautiful mix of old and new, this trait apparent in the various architectural styles present in its neighboring buildings.

Like Berlin, much of its recent history was defined by the Cold and World Wars. One story that stood out was that of Jan Palach – a 20 year old student that poured gasoline all over his body and burned himself alive in protest of the collapse of the fleeting Praha Spring, a period in which a better-hearted soviet ruler granted the citizens freedom of speech and expression. So moving was this demonstration that Jan’s friend, Jan Zajíc, burned himself a few weeks after. Once the Czechs were given their freedom from Soviet rule, Palach and Zajíc went down in history as a reminder that it is never pointless to stand up for one’s beliefs.

It turns out that Praha is also the home to many Hollywood film sets. Many of the European scenes that are riddled throughout our movies are filmed in Praha, despite where the scene actually takes place. Some of the many include Eurotrip, the Bourne Identity, and many James Bond films. I’ll be looking out for Praha streets the next time I see Europe on the big screen.

After the tour, I tagged along with an American & Canadian duo. They both were studying abroad near Brussels. Elena, the American, went to school in Philadelphia. Iris, the Canadian, hailed from Vancouver. I appreciated their willingness to expand to a trio, as they had an entire plan set for Praha while I was flying by the seat of my pants.

We spent the afternoon together on the other side of the river, crossing the Charles Bridge to get there. Like Ponte Vecchio, the Leaning Tower, Checkpoint Charlie, and München’s Oktoberfest, this was nothing more than a glamorous tourist trap, complete with a novelty experienced only in its first viewing. The statues, street vendors, street musicians, and Jesus tribute were great to look at, and it offered a good view of the city along the river, but the crowds of tourist were reason enough to avoid crossing it more than once.

On the other side, we first walked to the Lennon Wall, making a pit stop along the way so I could try my first glass of hot wine. The wall had the same effect on me as the East Side Gallery in Berlin. This would not be first time I felt a connection between Praha and Berlin. I would like to believe, whether reality or myth, that this wall had some influence on the inspiration of the idea for the East Side Gallery. Like Jan Palach’s tragic end, this wall signified the resilience of the Czechs in the face of tyranny. The Wall was supposedly used as a gathering place for those who did not want to simply accept life in the form it was handed to them. While Lennon’s death was tragic, this wall represented just one of the many legacies he left after his passing. I left my mark on the middle prong of the large white Peace symbol. If you ever make it to Praha, find this mark, like you found it at Hostel Archi Rossi in Firenze, and let me know so we can both share a smile.

From the Lennon wall, we visited the Praha Castle, walking up the many stairs that lead to the top of the hill on which it rests. Though raved about by almost everyone that has visited Praha, I only got to see the outside. The castle is dubbed by Guinness as the world’s longest castle still standing today.

It did not have the same effect on me as it did most of my recommenders… to me it looked like a bunch of buildings built at various points in history all annexed together with a big cathedral in the middle – which is exactly what it was. And even the cathedral itself was very similar to the one I visited in Strasbourg, both in style and grandeur. I did get to see a great view of the city from atop the castle steps, just outside Praha’s Office of the President of the Republic. For this, the visit to the castle was worth it.

On our way in the castle bounds, we passed by Presidential guards, live statues that moved only to blink and breathe. I thought about how much patience and humility it must take to carry out that job everyday while constantly being treated by tourists as just another attraction, all the while holding themselves with the highest regard and their job with the utmost importance. Saying this, I too joined in with the tourists and added them to my photo journal. Still, I have a lot of respect for those who take on this role.

Our last stop together was at the Kafka Museum. I don’t know much about the famed writer, but I decided to tag along in an effort to change that. While waiting in the lobby to buy tickets, a familiar face entered through the doors – a Californian native studying in Cambridge that I had met at my hostel the night before. Daniel was with a group of other young travelers, and I proceeded to become acquainted with all of them. A series of increasingly intrusive and unexpected questions led to a shocking realization that this group that accompanied Daniel were all exchange students from the University of New Hampshire, and that a few of them grew up in my hometown just miles away from where I spent most of my childhood. That we live in a small world is a fact that became unquestionable during that moment.

The museum was unable to accept anything other than exact change, and it forced me to part ways with Elena and Iris. This worked out in my favor, as the 603-ers were also in the same position. I traveled back with them to the hostel, repeatedly expressing my absolute shock that I could be riding a tram in Praha with people who went to high school under the same roof I did. You could say that I was in a Granite State of Mind (don’t hate, I had to).

My exhaustion from the night before lasted through the evening, and it motivated me to take on a lighter load for the night ahead. I relaxed in the hostel lounge with a girl who grew up in the Upper West Side, two Aussie siblings, and a hodge podge of other random travelers. I spent the better part of the night with them, with a brief absence in between to participate in a Ghost Tour in the heart of the city with one of my new New Hampshire friends, David.

David and I decided to celebrate Halloween by participating in an activity that resembled more of a haunted house than a drunken costumed frat party. I don’t regret this. We headed downtown to check out the somewhat talked about Praha Ghost Tours. On our way, we lost our bearings and an elderly local couple seemed thrilled to give us direction towards the center. My second experience with Praha’s kindness. Though I wanted to take a night tour of the castle, I found out about it too late to make the meeting time, and resorted to the tour of Old Town’s alleys instead. The tour guide was in character the entire time, playing the part of an eerie, slightly disturbed, and a little too enthusiastic ghost storyteller. He led us through dark and abandoned alley ways, stopping in various crevices to recount tales of various untimely deaths of Praha men & women. These unfortunate souls apparently never moved on, and their spirits have been known to haunt residents and visitors to this very day. The tour was a mix of a lot of humorous and a bit of suspenseful. The latter became apparent when, at choice times, a little goblin of a woman wearing a Halloween mask would jump out unexpectedly from random corners and pillars and scream a shrill cry. I’d be lying if I said my response wasn’t equally as shrill or unexpected. Halloween with a few frights, the way it should be.

After the tour, we returned home stopping for a drink on our way. We sat down next a group of friends. They were all local to Praha and all extremely friendly. They suggested some destinations, and the girl in the group gave us some candy as a parting gift when they took off. One more encounter with Praha’s kindness.

Back at the hostel, my lounge-mates were all still there, none of them seemed to have moved an inch. I sat down with them and spent the remainder of the night there, making sure to celebrate one of the Aussies’ birthday at the stroke of midnight. What a shame that her birthday is on Halloween and Australia doesn’t give a damn about the holiday. No matter, we celebrated nonetheless.

In the morning, I had Sir Toby’s Deluxe Breakfast and made my way to the Museum of Music after saying my goodbyes with some of the hostel workers and my newly made traveler friends. I had been looking forward to seeing the Beatle exhibit, Beatlemánie. The museum featured the stories, start to finish, of the Beatles – both of the group and each individual band member. On one of the walls, a 1964 quote from Derek Taylor was printed on the wall– “…The kids of AD 2000 will draw from the music much the same sense of well being and warmth as we do today…” This had a great effect on me since I and so many of my friends are a part of the AD 2000 generation that became evidence of the truth in Taylor’s prediction. I also got to see a drum set that was played on by Ringo Starr himself. I found a playable piano there, an unexpected treat! I haven’t touched the ivories since leaving the States, and I’ve been missing it dearly. I played for a bit and then made my way to the standard exhibition – a collection of very old classical musical instruments. The only part that I really appreciated was their stash of old pianos and their predecessors. It was interesting to see the progression of the instrument to its current form.

After the Museum of Music, I headed to the collection of Jewish Museums. There were 6 of them, but only two really made an impression. Yes, the Spanish Synagogue was gorgeous inside, but what really moved me was the Pinkasova Synagoga and the Old Jewish Graveyard next to it. For those of you that remember the 400,000 Faces of Darfur campaign, the Pinkasova had a very similar effect. I walked into the old synagogue and was taken by surprise by the walls, covered from top to bottom, with the list of names of Praha Jews that lost their lives in the holocaust. The print was small, yet each wall was filled completely. It took six rooms and two floors to display 77,297 names. What really made this monument powerful was that there were almost a hundredfold more killed in the War that were left unacknowledged. Six million became an unfathomable number.

I walked through the Old Jewish cemetery after, which brought the gravity of the devastation full circle. The graveyard was raised at least two stories above the ground level, and not just to bring the buried Jews closer to the sky. Underneath the graveyard surface was layers upon layers of buried bodies. Praha had a big problem with space. Since Jews have to be covered by soil when buried, they kept piling them one on top of another in order to maximize the small block they were allotted for burials. The creator of the Memorial to the Murdered Jews in Berlin has said nothing of his work other than he was partly inspired by this graveyard. I was fortunate to have now seen both and experienced the connection.

I considered the graveyard visit as the cap off for my weekend in Eastern Europe, and headed back to Stuttgart shortly after. I first had to take a bus to Nuremberg and catch my connection from there. The bus ride was delayed about a half hour for…just wait for it… another “routine traffic stop” by the Deutsche Polizei. There were a group of four Indian men on board, and while I passed the initial passport inspection, all four of theirs were subject to an extensive on the road background check. Another case of German Profiling.

Praha’s people are welcoming and friendly, its lifestyle lively, its history fascinating & celebrated, and its scenery gorgeous. I hope to return soon.