National Anthem of Nowhere (pt 2)

PRAGUE

After the Amsterdam ordeal (which was a nice followup to the Paris debacle), I only spent a few days back in Geneva until I was scheduled to go on another trip with Steph, Gilberto, and Mattia (Gilberto's friend from Milan). As I prepared travel to Prague, I made a mental list of all the things that I could possibly be afflicted with while traveling the Czech Republic: plague, pink eye, albuminurophobia (fear of kidney disease), SARS, tennis elbow, ear infection, west nile virus, sinus infection, acid reflux, rheumatoid arthritis, hang nail, mumps, alopecia, cold sores, carpel tunnel, tonsillitis, hay fever, avian bird flu, exema, arachnophobia, angina, premature baldness, chicken pox, diabetes, mono, and ptosis. I did what I could to ensure that if cursed with one or more of these diseases I would know all possible symptoms, treatments, cures, and known causes ahead of time.

Gilberto and Steph left on Thursday night, giving them (and Mattia) a full 24 hours in Prague without me. Friday morning, while in a meeting, I received a message from Gilberto - he told me they were having a great time so far and that I shouldn't exchange money in Geneva because they found a really great place to exchange money in Prague. He also said that Mattia had had his wallet stolen and a girl staying in our hostel had had her camera stolen - at that I was pretty happy I hadn't brought my camera but started to get a touch nervous about how safe my belongings would be. Then I figured, that despite the thefts, Gilberto had said they were having a great time nonetheless and I decided instead to get very excited for a fun weekend trip away.

Once I arrived in Prague, about an hour later than anticipated due to a flight delay, I ran into Steph at the hostel* front desk. She told me she had to speak to me, that the trip so far had been interesting. Based on tone and urgency I worried that there had been a fight a blow out a something that had caused a rift. She said no, nothing like that...exactly. She reminded me about Mattia and the girl who's stuff had been stolen. She then told me about how Gilberto's great money exchange place had actually ripped him off. That he created quite an interesting scene at the exchange place. And that he had pretty much done everything short of punching his fist through the glass and stealing his money back. 'shit' - - 'he told me not to exchange money' // 'i know, don't bring it up'. I entered our room to be greeted by Gilberto who was hanging out his top bunk - I laughed pretty much as soon as I saw him and of course got to hear the whole story from his side, which was just as hilarious as Steph's third person account. After some discussion we all realized that we were all up shit creek without a paddle - we had no money. Gilberto couldn't use his credit card because, for the same reason I couldn't, it had been replaced by the credit card company and he didn't have the new one. Mattia's wallet had been stolen. I had 240 Swiss Francs - pretty worthless in Prague without being exchanged - and would remain pretty worthless provided the exchange places were all down with ripping tourists like us off. Steph had her credit card. Saving grace.

We all talked a bit more, when Steph remembered that they had got me something. She quickly rifled through her bag and took out three airplane barf bags - just incase. Embarrassed, I laughed, scolded them...then took the bags and put them in my backpack for safe keeping; because hey - if we all wound up eating some bad goulash then you better believe that I wasn't going to be the one barfing all over myself. Been there, done that, time for karma to bite them in the ass. At some point during our conversation I told the others that technically this wasn't my room 'but look - i saved you this bed' (thanks Steph, bottom bunk and all so I don't embarrass myself by being too scared / unable to get to the top) and that I would have to sleep in a different room with 11 strangers versus 8 strangers and 3 friends. Luckily a couple from New York who had been resting near us (ok well technically everyone in the room was near us, they were just a lot closer) piped up and mentioned that they had to book two beds but only ever needed/used one when traveling. That bed Steph saved for me, was actually free.

We stood around chatting for a bit more, and after some convincing, Steph and I got Gilberto and Mattia out of their bunks and into the streets of Prague. Seeing as how I had just come off a flight (re:irrational fears, high stress, intense anxiety) I was fighting with an empty tummy and a limited amount of money. Our bar hopping (not really staying but more so checking out the 'smoke factor') brought us into downtown Prague where I finally quenched my hunger with some keilbasa street meat. The cheapest meal purchased in Prague, and probably my absolute favourite. There's just something about the mustard in Europe too - its like thirteen times better than the yellow crap we have back in North America - its not as acidic, not as brightly colored, and compliments food really well. But, I digress. We randomly wound up in a bar in the basement of a building. The walls were adorned with really cool vector art, it was playing (somewhat quitely) European metal over the speakers (which Gilberto liked), and it lacked the 60-years-worth-of-second-hand-smoke that the other bars possessed. We didn't stay long (the bartender seemed to ignore Gilberto when he went up to get us second rounds) but still seemed to call it in late. We all tumbled into our beds that night and slept well into the morning - ahh sleeping in while traveling, a luxury!

The next day we spent walking through Prague doing touristy things - such as eating Czech pastries for breakfast, checking out the St Charles bridge and 'dancing building', eating at a restaurant that boasted having authentic Czech food, and exploring the old town. We also stopped by an anti-fascist meeting and posed in front of police tanks that were spotted all over the city. Now this, my friends, is out of the ordinary, as is the multitude of police officers we saw in riot gear all over the city (including the large group getting debriefed and going over maps near parliament). Upon seeing all this intense policing I got rather excited and tried to figure out what kind of movie we were in: "an action film!" - "a crime drama! I want to be a detective and get in on this - lets find the fugitive" - "a political movie!" (or you know, a psychological drama about a girl who completely looses touch with reality). Anyhow, seeing as I am not the Truman show, we found some press agents and asked them if they knew what was actually going on with the security beef. They informed us that there was a meeting of fascists(?) and there was worry about riots in response (because, when have you honestly heard of a peaceful fascist meeting 'well today boys, we'll start by having a cup of tea and ice breaker games, move on to accounting and logistics, discuss plans for world domination over crumpets, vote on which social group we will focus on victimizing for the next trimester, and then joe is going to tell us about his tripple bypass surgery and i think we'll call it in early for today and hold tomorrows meeting in the botanical gardens while planting some arugula - sound like a plan?' 'oh yes, yes, but can we move the crumpets to around 2 o clock i can't handle pastry so early in the morning, i have indigestion'). Gilberto asked where they were anticipating activity, we were told, informed to steer clear. We thanked the press dude and headed straight for the action.

We wound up at an anti-neo nazi gathering where people waved flags and posters and wore the star of david on their chest. We hung around for a bit, the gather being much larger than the animal rights protest in Amsterdam, but not as spirited. We decided that maybe there would be no crazy violent protest, and that the police were just over reacting - so we moved on and ate lunch.

Towards the end of the day, Steph and I split up from Gilberto and Mattia. They went to see the communism museum and we went shopping and to a black light show.

NEVER
EVER
IN YOUR LIFE
GO TO A BLACK LIGHT SHOW TITLED FAUST
IN PRAGUE

Seriously

I don't know how to explain this. We went to this Black Light show expecting something along the lines of Famous People Players - you know, really cool props and music and a stunning use of black lights.
Instead we got half a black light show.
YEAH
HALF
you see the people at this theatre decided to use actors throughout the entire show - which also required them to use white light - which obviously made the black light pretty useless since every prop and secret was visible, despite their lame attempts to hide it. There was also a plot.
Apparently.
I didn't quite catch it. Some guy makes a deal with the devil, then he becomes good looking (according to whose standards, I'm not quite sure, the dude could have used a bit more of the 'extreme makeover' if you ask me) then he learns to fly, and winds up hanging out with giant penguins that flap around (dancing maybe? I have no flipping clue, it was so ridiculous, they were just flapping their big fleece arms around like crazy peop...penguins) and sing about loving snow and freezing weather all the while the dude flies around with the devil. and there were cats. or ladies dressed like cats. that did what i assume was a dance choreographed by the local elementary school. and there were dragons. or dragon like creatures. or people dressed like dragons. and i say that because the white light showed their faces in the giant masks they wore. the people dressed like dragons seemed as unimpressed with the show as i was. you see it was only an hour show, and before it began we both were upset that it wouldn't have been longer - because you know, that famous people player black light show, i could handle that for a good 2 hours. of course once this craptastic show began we quickly realized that we couldn't handle much more than 20 minutes - because thats how long it took me to fall asleep (only to be awoken by giant penguins). something happened in the end that concluded this torture...actually...i think it was a torture scene. and the guy gets redeemed. but gets to keep his mediocre...sorry - his good looks. then they bowed and i died inside because it wasn't a joke leading up to the actual black light show... or maybe it was.... a big joke on us tourists, 'haha you paid 400 of our monnies to watch this crap - we make it up as we go along'.
steph and i tried to figure out what we missed
maybe we were supposed to drink absinthe
maybe we missed the tray of acid
how the hell did that work for ANYONE? WHAT DID WE NOT DO?
we got screwed.
DONT GO.
or go but be really freaking wasted.

Exhausted by the agonizing Black Light show Steph and I hurried back to the hostel hoping to beat Gilberto and Mattia so that we could go to sleep and not bothered. However, in our hostel room the American's were awaking from a nap and day out on the town and proposed that we join them for a drink. I told them 'first I have to nap', however, they began a conversation about not having control over your body while in a strange city, and I quickly sat up and launched into the horrid tale of Amsterdam and the sub that nearly killed me. Soon after Gilberto and Mattia arrived and although only partially rested Steph and I joined the group for a night out in Prague.

The 6 of us wound up at a cool jazz bar that happened to make some of the best tasting mojitos i've ever tried. Now I'm not generally one for mohitos, and I think it is because they usually taste too strongly of mint, and for whatever reason, mint plus alcohol just taste like mouthwash to me. These mohitos, we determined, were so good because while they had mint in them, the mint was mostly over powered by lime (probably bar mix). Anyways, the mohitos were flowing and at one point Steph and I (who started sharing drinks as to make it appear that we were being much more responsible than we probably actually were) began to question how the hell we were going to pay for them. ... some thoughts on conversion rate...'can i have another?'. [we split the tab with whatever cash we had then I put it on my debit card - for those who were concerned that I may have dined and dashed]. Suffice to say, while at the jazz club we enjoyed some good conversation - good in that it was friendly and funny and probably offensive to Americans - although, the Americans we were with seemed more entertained than offended. We walked back home and ate the best post-bar food ever - street keilbassa. Seriously people, you must have it. MUST. notice the MUST. it's not just best post-bar food, its best any time food. I swear any time convenience in Hamilton should just sell street meat from now on.

Sunday was spent doing 'not so much' - we again split up from Gilberto and Mattia in the morning, and headed to a mall. At this point all of us were in debt, had no money, and were scrounging for coins when having to pay for lunch. Of course, Gilberto and Mattia were much worse off than Steph and I as they were caught riding the metro without a ticket (on their way to church, no less) and had to bribe the officer dude with their loose change in order to get off the hook. Later that day as Gilberto took Mattia back to the hostel and to send him off (flight to Italy earlier than flight to Geneva) Steph and I wandered, and on a whim decided to bust out the credit card so that we could see the Dali and Mucha exhibit. It was the only museum/gallery that we went into, and while we probably missed a lot of history and art in the other museums, I think we were pretty damn well satisfied with all the amazing art work that we met inside this tiny exhibit. It was a very nice way to end our trip in Prague (although technically we ended it in coffee heaven playing some strange paper football game that Gilberto used to play in 5th grade, but that doesn't really count at all). And I think the combination of the two exhibits pretty well summed our time in that wonderful city - a little crazy mixed with a lot of beautiful imagery.

And that my friends, was Prague.



*Entering the hostel took a bit of work. You see first they explain in the instructions to cross the street, turn left and walk 30 meters to the hostel. However, you merely have to turn left as crossing the road brings you to the wrong side of the street - and these instructions are made for those walking - so it was rather confusing to walk for a couple of blocks and realize that you are nowhere near number 52 and that you probably passed it ten minutes ago. Anyways, once arriving to the door its like a freaking scavenger hunt to figure out how to get it. First I pushed the door, repeatedly, then a voice barked at me from the speaker telling me not to push the door. So I stopped. Then it said to push the button so I did. Then I pushed the door. Then I got yelled at not to push the door. So I stopped. Then the door started opening at a pace that would make a snail angrier than a Texan at a Civil Rights protest. Then I was yelled at again - about pushing the door - which I wasn't doing, so I figured I was supposed to, and when I did I was yelled at again for pushing the door open! Dear God man! Decide on what you want me to do to enter this building, sleep on your crummy makeshift bunk bed, and pay you 12 euros! Eventually I got in, but with no direction I walked aimlessly to a court yard and tried to get into another door that had a sign 'hostel' posted above it. When I couldn't enter I asked two guys who were smoking, and they tried to open the door (which I saw them just exit from) and fail. They then asked some other guy (who I later determined was the one who barked at me in that terrifying accent from the speaker box) and he said I had to check in - WELL FREAKING DUH MAN, where the hell do I go to do that? He took me, I checked in, I ran into Steph.