Movie-going

As the title suggests, today's topic is movie going. I tend to see a number of movies while in the Czech Republic. At first glance, many of the newer theaters resemble any American multiplex with one very notable difference – they assign seats (I've also found out this is not unique across Europe). The assigned seating, however, is somewhat flexible. When the theater is fairly empty, people might just sit where they want, rather than where they are assigned. If the ticket booth is slow, the cashiers might even ask the patron where she wants to sit in order to assign a seat to their liking. If however, someone sits in someone else's seat 1 of 2 things happen. The "rightful" owners of the seat may elect to sit elsewhere or they may make a claim on their seats. I watched a couple of Spanish-speaking women take seats to their liking – indicated by their body language that they were not their assigned seats – at a very crowded Harry Potter premier last year, only to be asked to move to their assigned seats when the other ticketholders appeared. I can see pros and cons to this arrangement, especially when in relation to group seating. If the group purchases tickets together, they can insure to be seated together, instead of having to save seat like at movies in the US (often scrambling for seat-saving devices like coats and purses). At the same time, the group does have to buy their tickets together in order to be guaranteed group seating.

Yesterday I went to see Mamma Mia! No, I hadn't seen it yet and had nothing planned so…I enjoyed it, love the music, blah, blah, blah but this is not why I'm writing. The end was one of the oddest movie-going experiences I have ever had. Normally, when the credits roll at the end, people start to get up. In general, Czech audiences will stay a little longer, or I should say a higher percentage will stay longer, but many people will get up and leave. But not yesterday. They stayed put. Now, granted, the beginning of the credits include Meryl Streep and her "back-up singers" singing in full ABBA costuming. When the song is over, the offer another song and then the rest of the cast shows up in full ABBA-wear, as well. After that song though, the credits just go on with the normal song in the background like with most movies. Still no one moves. Then a few people, less than ½ a dozen get up. Finally, it is down to the song lists and where to get the soundtrack, people start to move and I didn't get out of my seat (thanks to the family sitting on the aisle) until the lights were coming up. It was just odd that no one, I mean no one got up until after those two songs were done. What did I miss? Was there a memo that I didn't get that we were supposed to stay for the songs at the end?

Oh, and if you want the creepy part of any movie-going experience, let me tell you about the anti-aggressive driving campaign out by the Ministry of Transportation. In a word or two, gory and explicit. They show these commercials before movies, with the other commercials and previews and after 10pm on Czech television. I won't go into too much detail but can send you links of on-line videos if you want to know more.

Sunday’s Observations

Sunday morning I was on my way to church – it was a lovely morning, bright, not too cold (or at least not too windy). As I walked along the river (still walking between tram stops, since it was lovely, I didn't want to wait on the boat; but it should only be a few more days), I noticed the swans…again. I have been somewhat fascinated, or at least delighted, by the waterfowl on the Vltava. Swans, a few dozen at least, with their little ones, sometimes huddled along the bank, other times gliding across the river. Ducks, brightly-colored, ducks! Sleek, green heads, bright yellow bills and orange feet! The contrast with the gray of their feathers, the stone walls around the river and even the river itself is striking. And the gulls – I guess they are gulls of some sort – I don't know birds but that's what they look like to me. I guess it's that touch of nature that you don't often get to see in an urban setting.

When I got on the tram, I found a bird of a different sort. I believe the scientific term is undergraduatis americanus, and they were the female of the species. This creature tends to sport leggings (in place of pants), Ugg boots, waist-length down jackets, and heavy black eye-liner. While I only saw one of this exact plumage, the others in her flock wore some aspects of the "uniform." Regardless, seeing them together, even though not dressed exactly the same, I had the same thought that I have had numerous times walking across college campuses – how so they (the undergraduates) dress differently yet still look exactly the same? So, I started to think more about the Czech teens, young people that I have seen and have not noticed the same level of similarity. Czechs, in my humble opinion, have a set of fashion rules that truly allows for personal style and variation, but within boundaries. Now, these observations are primarily about women; men seem to dress using a much narrower array of options. But Czech women love to accessorize (at least in the colder weather) in a very matching way (what some of you may call "matchy-matchy"). For example, the young 20-something-year-old on my tram last night wore a green jacket, scarf, hat and belt, in a very unique and stylish yet counter-mainstream style. Another young woman caught my eye with her hat – it was a camel-colored felt/wool (?) pillbox meets army hat that sat on her head, topping off a up-do, lending her a very polished look. And the older woman with the maroon hat, purse and gloves to complement her brown boots and dark green coat. The rules of fashion seem to be those that governed fashion in the early half of the 20^th Century, maintained yet evolved. In American fashion magazines, they discuss ways to break the matchy-matchy rules, so not to look like your grandmother. Here, they seem to have figured out how to make it work.

Show me your Paso Doble!

I am watching Stardance – the Czech equivalent of Dancing with the Stars. Of course, I know that the show originated in the UK but just hearing the cheesy show music (complete with bongos, a guy in dreds, and variations on the basic) makes me feel like I'm at home…just a bit. Of course, I can't understand the banter or judges but it's something. Tonight is slowfoxtrot and paso doble. I don't recognize any of the "stars." They are Miss Czech Republic, some (former?) athlete (who I had rather not showed me his paso doble), and a bunch of actors/actresses. It's not quite as flash as the US version but I like it! The judges are also very harsh – someone just got a 3!

As I sit here, though, I realize that I haven't written in a few days. I've been "busy" settling in. This week I have done the following: spent an entire day getting the dsl in my flat to connect, only to find out that I had the wires in the wrong sockets; watched a lot of Dr. Who (I brought the first 2 seasons on dvd); spent hours trying to figure out how to watch free television on-line, only to have my younger sister "teach" me how to make the new surfthechannel work; scouted out places that might carry some of my personal necessities (like contact solution and ranch dressing – success on the first, failure on the second)…essentially, I've spent the week trying to figure out how to live my American life in Prague. Part of that has been a leeriness to cook meat. I'm working my way up. I've never really had the opportunity to cook in the Czech Republic. And for some reason, I fear it…okay, "fear" may be a bit strong. I think my problem is that I tend to cook a lot of Mexican (Tex-Mex) or Italian (pasta) dishes. So, my problem arises with the fact that the Czech taste in these two types of cuisine is different than mine. So far, I've cooked a fair amount of pasta. But, I did branch out with scrambled eggs the other day. All the eggs are brown, which means the yolks are very yellow. I'm not a huge fan of eggs to begin with but the Tabasco sauce I found went a long way in helping the dish along. I have a small crutch that I am using, which is the store Culinaria. I have been able to find Paul Newman's marinara sauce and Caesar dressing. What I have yet to find is a "real" chili powder. I found something, but I think it's more like powdered red pepper with some Hungarian paprika – it's very orange, in contrast to a "red" chili powder. I really want this so I can make tortilla soup. I can find a variety of Old El Paso products, including taco, fajita and chili spice mixes. I may have to explore those options. But first, I have discovered a spice store. Walking from Old Town Square to the Bohemian Bagel the other day, a wonderful smell stopped me – it was a mix of spices that I can't quite determine. It was a little store that I plan to visit in the future so see if they have what I want. If not, there is one more option that I may try – a Tex-Mex restaurant that – according to a review I found on-line – sells food products in addition to the restaurant.

And, continuing on the food theme, I'm already tired of the monotony of the food available here. Of course, if I broke out of my self-imposed food shell more often, I wouldn't get bored so often. I've essentially had pizza, pasta, hamburgers (not at McDonald's), KFC, and gyros. And last night, I went to a really nice little crepe place that made me long for Paris…any place where you can buy a crepe on the street is a good place. I went to dinner with some other Fulbright grantees and had a great evening. I love smart women. We talked about everything from racial issues in the Czech Republic to what kind of hat would be flattering on me and where to buy it - I look forward to getting to know them all better. And I have a variety of dinner plans for the next week – 3 – count them 3! – "Thanksgiving" dinners planned.

And on a final note, the Czech comes and goes. I forget my numbers but then have a teeny little breakthrough in random conversation, so I'm sticking with a 1 beer rating.

Váženej

"Váženej, váženej!" yelled the cashier at the Albert (supermarket)…to me. As I stare at him with a confused look and blank eye, he holds up the bulb of garlic and yells "váženej!" again. The woman behind me in line says very quietly that I was supposed to weigh (váženej) the garlic. In my defense, I was exhausted, and hungry. AND, at most of the other grocery stores that I've been shopping at, they do weigh at the cashier and it's been at least 2 years since I went to one that did want you to weigh (unless, we had to while traveling last year but regardless, I forgot this existed). So, needless to say, it was not a good language experience bringing me to a new feature on this new blog: The Language Usage Rating - or - How's my česky?, which is grammatically incorrect but sounds better than what it should be. One of my Czech teachers last year said that when I drink, I speak Czech perfektní. So, instead of stars, I am using beer glasses. The more beer, the better I speak/understand Czech. So the more glasses, the better I'm doing at Czech. I expect to have good and bad days and hopefully the really good or the really bad will be entertaining enough to share here.

The Bohemian Bagel – or – Where did all the students come from?

For those of you unfamiliar with the Bohemian Bagel, it's the internet café for hostellers in Prague. Reasonable internet prices and a café and bagel shop opened by Americans. It is also the home to the bottomless fountain drink, a commodity pretty much unknown in Europe. This and the internet is why I was there. But the place was packed with students. American students. Is it fall break somewhere? I couldn't help but overhear a few conversations which I will share with you. The first was between about 3 young men and one older men. He spoke with what sounded like an American accent but he was a leader of some sort, telling the guys that he could do anything alcohol-related for them, except whiskey and including absinthe, which the guys jumped on. You all know that everyone must have absinthe when in Prague. The second group was discussing the girls in their group who were apparently somewhat clingy to the guys in their group. But it wouldn't be so bad if they were really cool which would "make up for lack of attractiveness." I do give the guy a few points for his ability to articulate this without the use of the word "dude."

Was I ever that young?

Future topics: Old Town gearing up for Christmas and men in plaid pants with solid patches

Why I’m glad I have my comfy boots

Heading out of the flat, I jump on the tram heading to the city center – illegally since I haven't been able to buy a ticket yet – and then have to get off after just 2 stops. Unexpectedly, let me point out. They are working on the tram lines. What does this mean? Well, first, I have to walk about 10-15 minutes to get to the other tram stop (I now have 3 tram stops that I can call "mine" since just to get home I must use these 3). This trek does include walking under Vyšehrad castle, and through the tunnel, and I have a soft spot for Vyšehrad. I think of it as the "forgotten" castle of Prague. It's barely in the guide books, barely on the maps…it's also peaceful, probably due to the lack of foreign tourists (vicious circle of great places and discovery). I also have a "thing" for castles…just check out my favorite pictures page on my website. I also like it because I grew up near Vyšehrad...Texas. It's a little community that is nothing like a fortified castle and doesn't really have a hill. While walking though, I notice the general attitude of my fellow pedestrians. Very complacent, just taking part in their daily activities, not like this extra walk is an inconvenience. By the way, this also means that automobile traffic is disrupted so no bus and taxis have to go all the way around the hill or across the river…As my taxi driver yesterday from the airport tried to explain when he asked which route I wanted to take – through the center or via Barrandov. Apparently, I get a few glasses of beer on my Czech usage rating for the day because I used enough Czech while engaging the taxi driver for him to think I would understand him. Anyway, I also noticed while walking that boots are in! Knee-high boots with skirts and fabulous tights! I am so happy that I brought the proper attire to "fit in." And my boots are functional, all-weather, with treads on the bottom for ice but don't look it so they will be getting a lot of milage…kilometrage?...this year. By the way, as I continued to walk past Vyšehrad towards Prague Castle (Pražský hrad), and the afternoon foggy haze cleared, I saw the Castle and my heart lifted. It tends to do that. I see the Castle and I feel so happy to be here. I have a thing for castles. Maybe I was Libuše in a past life…

Thoughts on a Plane

To get to the Motherland, I must go through the Fatherland. Flying Lufthansa to Prague via Frankfurt. (Seriously, my mother’s heritage is Czech and my father’s is German.) So, I had about an hour to spare before boarding – after checking about 150 lbs of luggage, seriously, and “smuggling” another 70 in my carry-ons (really, who’s heard of the 8 kilo max on hand luggage?). Anyway, I decided to pamper myself a bit with a manicure at the airport spa, complete with deluxe massage chair, the kind that reclines to complete horizontal. Let me digress for a moment to say that not only am I a fan of airport spas but I have been known to support them on occasion. Overpriced, yes. But, sometimes, I just need to have a deluxe massage chair roll the travel stress away. And for those who say that I’m not a “real” anthropologists because I “complain” about not being able to find a reasonable pedicure price in the Czech Republic, I suggest you read the upcoming post about why I’m glad I brought my boots. So, getting back to the mani, from a lovely young lady named Tiffani. I could see out the door so I saw it coming – the flash of a camera. Tiffani was a bit taken aback and commented on the fact that people should ask before taking someone’s picture. I automatically put the two men into the category of tourist and obviously non-American. (I also thought about all the human subjects forms I’ve been building for the past months but that’s a different story.) I say obviously because they just didn’t look American. Some people claim that they can tell Europeans and Americans apart by facial features (and no, I’m not talking about 19th century anthropologists). I think it has a lot more to do with clothing and hairstyle. It’s that, again, look that people from different countries have. With these two I present the following “evidence”: the man who took the photo was wearing a track “suit”, track pants with a sleeveless t-shirt tucked in, all brand-named and a fannypack. The other had a rumpled kind of look that most American men just can’t quite seem to achieve; American men often seem to still look to put together. Remember, folks, this is a blog so I’m just offering my opinions here :). However, I have a so-called confirmation of my assessment because the men were on my flight and talking German as the mob was gathering around the gate to board. (Apparently the Brits really are the only people who know how to queue!) Since I could see them talking before the flash, my idea of their conversation went something along the lines of “look at those Americans who like luxury so much they have a spa in the airport!” Anyway, Tiffani’s comment started us talking, leading to that little serendipity for the day. At some point, I (relevantly) mentioned that I am an anthropologist. She asked me if I keep a log every day. I was a bit surprised because someone actually knows what an anthropologist does!! And she didn’t mention dinosaurs or bugs or Indiana Jones! I thought about commenting on that but I couldn’t figure out how to articulate my thoughts without sounding condescending. But what she really did was remind me that what I do is cool. Which is exactly what I needed because my introverted half was doing it’s normal pre-international trip monologue – I don’t want to go…I want to stay where I’m comfortable and can speak the language…Yes, folks, a half-introverted, half-extraverted anthropologist (I have come to realized since first writing this that this dual personality may actually help me more than hurt me but that will come later too). So, in the effort to bring the extraverted side into balance, I thought I’d chat up my row partner on the flight. As I was trying to figure out what to say to him as we had both finished our dinners, he asked me how long I would be in Germany. Serendipity of the day number 2. It turns out that Tony was on his way to Germany because his son was on a ventilator and in a coma. After a tour in Iraq, he gets hit in the head during a night out on the town in Germany. This conversation really forced me to put my own life into perspective. We had a great talk about everything from our own lives to politics to Texas (he’s a Longhorn). Tak, so, conclusion - my life is not only cool but blessed. I am about to embark on a year in Prague (funded…thank you taxpayers) and I don’t want to go? Get over it! Not only that, get out there, make the best of it (extraverted half in power with it sounds like introverted half in the chorus). All fired up but still hours before I land…I just discovered that Lufthansa serves wine in the galley throughout the flight…or at least the leftovers from dinner (I love the Germans!). So, carpe diem turns into carpe vinem for a bit.
(Tony if you ever read this, my thoughts and prayers are with you and your family and especially Todd.)