Blogging..

So I realize it has been quite some time since I've blogged, but I have been super busy being like a world traveler and all... 

Here is what I have been up to lately

saw a fuzzy lion at the Prague zoo, however he was not interested in paparazzi.  

Went on my first night adventure! We hiked up Petram hill, where you can see some of the best views in Prague. Saw the fake eiffel tower

Saw a ballet at the theatre

Sat on a 6 hour train for 6 hours. Hello Budapest :) 

Stayed in an adorable hostel 

Wandered around in the frigid cold for some hours, saw some cool buildings, drank a lot of overpriced hot chocolate.

 Went to Berlin with like 7 dudes. Went to an absinth bar. Spent the weekend listening to a lot of talk about pooping, farting, burping, etc.

Saw the real Eiffel tower 

Found out what "cheap" food in Paris looks like. Mixed salad = mystery salad. 

Coming Soon:   

Budapest

Berlin

Paris

Gypsies

Today I had my first run in with a gypsy. It went well. I was really looking forward to seeing a clan of gypsies, the more the better.  I thought they might be seen strolling barefoot along the bohemian streets of Prague, smoking out of weird pipes and shaking a tambourine.  Sorry to inform you of this, but those gypsies are extinct, or highly endangered at least. Most of the gypsies I have seen in passing are lone wolves. They usually have dreadlocks and are carrying a bag of some sort. The best part of passing a gypsy is turing to the person next to you and whispering "gypsy" as if you are seeing a unicorn and its a secret.

The gypsy today was more inconspicuous. I wouldn't have really known he was a gypsy judging by his clothing but he had that look in your eye that said "yes, yes I am a gypsy". He was wearing a really dirty jacket and was in dire need of a bath. He came into the metro and was leaning on the door behind me. My friend Elizabeth and I were really excited because we ran into another American who was studying abroad in barcelona. In the midst of the conversation, I felt a little vibration and I thought it might be my phone. I turned to reach into my bag and BAM, the gypsy had made his move. He withdrew his hand, which was lingering near my bag and looked at me like he had accidently bumped into me. We both knew what he was really doing but he literally leaned back to the door, simply shrugged, and said "sorry". I can't really find words to express the awkward exchange. I looked at him like he had clumsily stepped on my foot or something and I sort of just scoffed and looked away. That was it. It was like I was not capable of being mad at the gypsy because he was just being a gypsy. I walked out of the metro station looking through my bad. The only things I cared about, camera and wallet, were still tucked away in my pocket. But did he take anything else? I may never know...

The things my Dad does...

Chocolates? Yep. Framed portrait? Of course. The letter I was not expecting but I have to say, the blue paw print signature is the icing on the cake. 

Here is the letter from Ramone, my cat. 

"YO Hannah,

Happy Valentine Baby.

I thought this enclosed picture, showing you trying to squeeze the life out of me, best illustrates our relationship. I still can't believe you didn't take me with you Your parents are okay, but those other two 'pain in my ass' cats are always trying to steal the primo bedding down spots. I want you to know the mess your dad cleaned up in your room wasn't me. it had to be the ole lady cat who can't tell the difference between a rug and a cat box.

I sent your dad to the chocolate joint and had him pick up a big box to share with your czechies. This only being if they are cat people. If they are too doggie, stiff them and go tell them to jump off the Charles Bridge.

What's with your blog talking about cute, adorable, well-behaved dogs everywhere? Those words only belong to cats. Well at least the first two descriptions. 

Love ya Hannah"

People wonder where I get my sense of humor. This pretty much explains it.

Trends: Week 2

# 10 ) Small furry dogs. Everyone has them. They are really well behaved and look like they are bathed every morning. They have better hair than mine.

# 9 ) Dog poop. Apparently the whole 'clean up after your pet' rule is not enforced here like it is in seattle. So, it's only a matter of time if you know what I mean...

# 8 ) John Lennon. People are obsessed with John Lennon here, mostly with his ideas about peace and freedom. During communism in the 80's, people created the 'Lennon' wall in tribute to Lennon's ideas. Beatle's lyrics and pictures continue to be painted on the walls.

# 7 ) Graffiti in general is everywhere. It's crazy to me that people would casually tag a building from the 1700's but then again, to them it is probably just a building. Seeing graffiti everywhere reminds me that Prague is a breathing city with people, not a historical monument in a museum. 

# 6 ) I guess it's called "Street Meat". Every few blocks, my nose detects an alarming smell. It's a mix of garbage and bacon. Sometimes I think something is rotting and then I remember, its just a street vendor. Abnormally long sausages hang in the windows, people walk away from it carrying glasses of mulled wine, and the familiar scent of smaziny syr (fried cheese) lingers in the air. This is the only thing I've actually tasted from a street vendor and I've got to say, not bad. Not bad at all. If anyone has seen Anthony Bourdain's episode on Prague, he's all about the smaziny syr.

# 5 ) Trip planning. Now that I'm settled in my dorm room and classes are about to begin, I am already planning to leave. The last weekend of February I will be taking a train to Budapest with a few friends. The weekend after that I am debating between Dublin and the alps. The weekend after that, my whole group is heading to Vienna for the weekend. 

# 4 ) Still trying to speak czech and still sucking. The immersion course, for those of you that don't know, is a 5 hour class devoted to learning the czech language. Each class has ten(ish) students in it. My final test is in a couple days so my classmates and I have been meeting downstairs at our dorm bar for some czech speaking and czech beer. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you want to look at it) this usually just turns into an hour of crowding around the jukebox and paying 5 ckr to hear forgotten hits from the 80s and 90s. 

# 3 ) 80's and 90's playlists. I'm not sure what the deal with this is. Every restaurant, gift shop, \ and bar seems to have a 90's XM station constantly playing. It's totally normal here to listen to American music, even if you can't understand the words. You can go into the trendiest cafe and you will leave with a song by Madonna or Pink stuck in your head. Very weird, I have no explanation for this one. 

# 2 ) Getting lost, a little less often! This is an accomplishment for me. Anyone who knows me is aware that I was not born with that little gift of direction. But, I think, maybe, there might be hope for me. So what if it took me a week to learn that the castle was not on the other side of the river... 

# 1 ) Establishing some "spots". Now that I know how to use the metro (usually) and trams (once) I feel a little more confident exploring the city. Prague has some really crappy cafes and restaurants but lately, I've been finding the good ones. My new fave is called the Globe. It has red walls covered with weird picture frames and they show movies every sunday night. 

  

"we'll always have [Prague]"

I love hearing my mom tell me about her first time backpacking in Norway. I'm not sure how accurate my description is of it because it's become a family story told every few years and I've let my imagination conjure up the vague parts, similar to how a reader uses imagination to create his or hew of depiction of characters in a book.  Anyways, this is how I like to think the story goes:

My mom, Wendy, was a dexterous young lady with big glasses, blue eyes, and a warm, lovable heart. She may or may not have had some awful 80's bangs but I haven't decided if those came later or not. (Don't worry mom, your hair is great now). Her lively spirit may have been the only thing holding her tiny 5'1 frame up from under her 40 lb powder blue hiking backpack. While backpacking across Europe, she got the crazy idea to go find this tiny island in Norway where her grandfather (or some other obscure relative) came from. She hopped on this tiny rickety boat and arrived in Norway late at night. It was pouring down rain and she had nowhere to say. A hooded figure approaches her holding a lantern. He's a cute old fellow with white hair and fair skin. She reaches into her napsack (I don't entirely know what a "napsack" is but let's just pretend she had one) and pulls out a wrinkled map, trying to explain why she had shown up in the middle of nowhere on a night like this. As a last attempt to make some sense of the situation, she mutters the family name of her grandfather, "Melland". The man looks surprised and smirks. In broken english he says "you must come with me". They drive through the countryside in a small car. Wendy is lead into a quaint cabin, fed, and questioned. It's an awkward meal and Wendy begins to suspect something is up. Towards the end of the meal, a large burly Norwegian man with blonde hair comes through the door. He looks disoriented and stares at my mother. Then he says, as if it's a question, "this man you speak of was my grandfather too". 

Twenty years ago, when someone went abroad, it meant an entirely different thing for the traveler. He or she essentially lived a fairy tale life, embarking on one of those journeys of self discovery and returning home with the makings of a best selling memoir. There was mystery, romance, adventure, post cards sent home from paris, rome, and budapest, letters to friends and family exchanged over weeks, and really just an opportunity to live what I would call a saturated life.
I have always had the longing to have my own story, one like my mom's. To me, what she did was a real, honest to God, organic adventure. Unfortunately, I think it's much more difficult to achieve this. What's different? Well, the internet. I have facebook, I have email, I have my blog(s). I have skype so I can see people from back home on a daily basis if I ever really wanted to. I'm "abroad" but I can be home if I want to. I'm not trying to insult any of you technology lovers as obviously these advancements are perks, but I am getting close to freezing my facebook just so I can feel like I'm away.


Over lunch today, a few friends and I discussed how liberating it would be to just say toodles to the internet, post up in a cheap apartment in Prague for the summer and just not return home. Twenty years ago, people could do that. But then later today when I was looking through my pictures, I came across some I took of the lock gate. There is an old legend in Prague that says if you find true love in Prague, you have to find a lock, engrave your names in it, and throw it in the canal. Or, if you want it to be seen by the world, you lock it onto a gate.

When I first stumbled upon this little gem, I was reminded of the famous line in Casablanca: "We'll always have Paris". Only this time, I imagine a couple in love, scratching their initials into a heavy heart shaped locket and saying "we'll always have prague".  It really makes me happy that people are still living this kind of life. Seriously, falling in love in Prague? OBVIOUSLY there is no better place. Prague castle looks like it's straight from Cinderella, there are cobblestone streets lined with street lamps everywhere you look, and PDA is totally socially acceptable here (ahem, even on escalators I've noticed). The main point of this entire story is that people are still coming home with stories. Whether it be falling in love, making friends, finding yourself, finding life, discovering a long lost relative, etc, these stories can be told over and over again. 

So, maybe I can still keep my facebook after all :) Just because I have internet doesn't  mean I can't send postcards right? 

Break on through to the other side

 ....of the bridge.
Yesterday I fell completely in love with Prague. It was sunny! Still only slightly above 40 degrees but it was the first day I could shed my winter jacket and wear a sweater. I've really missed my sweaters. It's a shame I brought my favorite coat because I have developed a bitter relationship with Gertrude the gray after wearing her every stinking day, yet I know I cannot survive without her.

But seriously. My Prague experience thus far has been like a giant virtual history lesson. This is where so and so lived, this is where so and so wrote his book, this is an example of gothic architecture, etc etc.  I'm not saying I wasn't impressed, but it's hard to digest such a pungent dose of information when I knew I was in the golden city and I hadn't even had a chance to explore it yet.

I needed to wander. I needed to wander aimlessly. I needed to let my trusty map guide me straight and through (Goofy Movie reference, anyone?) without following 40 other American students and a professional tour guide. Most importantly, I needed to cross Charles Bridge. Charles Bridge is the most famous bridge in Prague; it's the thing to see in Prague, because atop the majestic stony arch, you get the best view of the city. It will make you pee your pants.


So I wandered. It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

 It was refreshing to look at the buildings, knowing nothing about them, and love them just because they were beautiful. I guess I'm shallow, but sometimes the best way to approach things is with a childlike wonder. So I did, hence the awkward tourist picture seen below. No shame.

Then, after an entire day of meandering, I crossed Charles Bridge and there it was! The "Golden City". The buildings were literally illuminated by gold light. Finally, Prague. :)
I don't have a great camera, but I didn't edit these pictures except to crop out creepy strangers who were sort of looking at the camera.

Moravian Escapades

 Prague is the obvious city to visit in the Czech Republic, but if you don't take the three bus ride to Brno, you would be missing out on a Czech gem. Brno is located in Moravia, a region occupying the east end of the country. While Prague is known for its beer, Brno is wine country. If you ever visit, I think you will find wine tasting is a bit different in the Czech Republic. There is no strolling through vineyards, no flowers (at least not in the winter) and no smug wino telling you why the year of 19 whatever was a terrible year. Then again, this is only how I would imagine a wine tour is, seeing as how I've never been to one in the states.

In Brno they do it differently. You sit an old wine cellar, they serve you meat and potatoes, they cover the table in glass pitchers of wine, and they refill until you get up from the table. After the medieval-esque meal, you have a short tour of the wine cellar. This does not take long. The cellar is the size of a garage. Eat cheese, taste, repeat. Drinking, whether it be wine or beer, is part of the czech culture. To put this in perspective for you, beer is literally cheaper than water in many pubs.

The best part of Brno is the city itself. Unlike Prague, it's not filled with tourists. Locals can be seen meandering around with their dogs. Almost every dog I saw was tiny and adorable. They are impeccabley trained and trot along without leashes. It's easy to carry around your camera and take videos of them while awing at their cuteness, without their owners noticing. Not that I did that. 

Walking around is always the best way to explore the city. When I first got to Brno, I thought she was like Prague's less attractive, boring sister. But after becoming more acquainted with the cobblestone streets, eating some ice cream on the steps on a monastery, browsing through the bounty of thrift stores and learning about the city's fables, I think Brno could be Prague's younger, subtly beautiful, down to earth sister. Or something.