'Tis the Season to be Snoozing

Honestly, how can anyone be expected to be productive between Thanksgiving and Christmas? In an effort to avoid grading papers tonight, I've decided to post my top 5 Christmas albums. I'm comfortable with disagreement, as long as you're comfortable with being wrong. Ha.

Here they are, in no particular order.

Vince Guaraldi Trio - A Charlie Brown Christmas
Over the Rhine - The Darkest Night of the Year
Harry Connick Jr. - When My Heart Finds Christmas
Andrew Peterson - Behold, the Lamb of God
Diana Krall - Christmas Songs (recently added)

I hope you're all warm and well. I'll talk to you soon... unless you live in (or plan to visit) the Cleveland area, in which case I'll see you in a few weeks. I'll post more information about that big adventure soon.

Saints, Sinners, Stuffing, and Superman

It’s been a few weeks since my last update.  Sorry about that.  I’m running around like a crazy man these days, and usually find that I’m too pooped to sit down and crank out something witty and endearing for the old blog.  (Incidentally, “pooped” as an adjective doesn’t translate to Czech… I asked a few Czech friends about it, and they just laughed at me.)  

Last week I participated in the 400-year old American tradition of eating ridiculous amounts of food to the point of comatose, and then complaining about how full I feel… like somehow it wasn’t my fault.  Alas, it’s a beautiful tradition that I wouldn’t miss for the world.  

To quote Garrison Keillor:
The candles are lit in the winter dusk, and we look at each other, the old faces and some new ones, and silently toast the Good Life, which is here before us. Enjoy the animal fats and to hell with apologies. No need to defend our opinions or pretend to be young and brilliant. We still have our faculties and the food still tastes good to us.

“What?  Thanksgiving last week?” you inquire.  “I didn’t realize Central European time was so different from the US.”  No, you’re right.  Thanksgiving was not actually last week, but we at ESI have taken it upon ourselves to adjust the American calendar as we see fit.  I’m one of three Americans in my town.  Who’s going to complain?

The ESIers from all over the Czech Republic came together in the village of Svaty Jan pod Skalou (St. John Under the Rock Face) last Thursday.  The gracious employees at the hotel there prepared one of the largest turkeys I’ve ever seen… and to my surprise, invited me to carve it.  This was my first carving experience, but I feel it was a successful one.  In the midst of it, I even managed to salvage the wishbone.  Years of practice had prepared me for this moment, and I took my end of the wishbone with confidence.  As 35 pairs of eyes watched, I made my wish, pulled hard, and emerged victorious.  Mom would have been so proud.

Friday was spent exploring, climbing rocks, singing songs, eating leftovers, and laughing a lot.  The way it should be.  We left that lovely village around lunchtime on Saturday.  

Despite all of the heroic, masculine tasks you have read thus far, Saturday and Sunday held something completely different for me.  If you’d prefer to think of me as a mature, turkey-carving, rock-climbing man among boys, then you should probably stop here.

As mentioned in a previous blog post, all men have their vices… as it turns out, two of mine are country music (collective groan)… and Smallville, the WB television series about the boy who would be Superman.  It has been described as a combination of Dawson’s Creek and X-Men…  I prefer to describe it as a drug.  Along with a handful of my esteemed ESI colleagues, I watched all of Season 4 in a 24-hour period.  I cannot, for the sake of our friendship, admit to you exactly the number of hours we sat in that tiny window-less living room.  Let’s just leave it at “many.”  I’m neither proud of this feat,  nor am I totally ashamed.  I do know, however, that I returned home on Sunday totally exhausted, and totally numb from the neck up.  

As many of you read this, you are likely preparing for Thanksgiving with your family and friends.  Maybe you can even smell the Turkey cooking right now… for my sake, stop reading and go watch some football.  I’d give my left leg to watch (or play) a good game of American football right now.  

I hope that you are well, and that this is a week of thankfulness for you and those closest to you.  Drop me a note sometime.  I’d love to hear from you.  

The village of Svaty Jan pod Skalou... and me.

On Friday, six of us (Aaron, Ben, Marianne, Joel, Matt, and I) took a short hike to the top of the hill/rock in the middle of the village. It was the perfect afternoon for a hike, and the view was amazing.

Carving turkey for the masses. It's like a right of passage... I suddenly feel that I have "arrived."

The Queen and I

You’ll have to forgive me on this one. I’ve been pretty out of it the last few days, due recovery necessary from a huge week spent in London and Liverpool… and my inability to fit said recovery into my schedule. If my words get a bit jumbled, or I start to ramble, feel free to skip ahead a few sentences (…like you don’t do that already).

So despite the predictions of so many regarding my big trip to England, I’m happy to report that the Brits were exceptionally friendly, and the weather was beautiful. Apparently, people have had different experiences along the way.

My trip began on the evening of Tuesday the 25th. My evening class ended a bit early that night, in order for one of my students to drive me down to Prague airport to catch my flight. I landed at Gatwick airport around 11pm (err… 23:00 if you’re European). My hostess for the week was a young lady by the name of Audrey Merrell, who happens to be dating my friend Rob from church in Prague. Audrey was gracious enough to let me crash on a blow-up mattress on her floor for a few days.

I don’t have the time or motivation to dive into a detailed description of all I did and saw in London, so allow me to just give you the laundry list: Wednesday I woke up bright and early and headed to the Tower of London. From there, I hit the Tower Bridge, South Bank, Millennium Bridge, St. Paul’s Cathedral, Tate Modern Museum, a double-decker bus, and Piccadilly Circus. Tuesday night, I attended a performance of Les Miserables. Granted, I was by myself. Surely, company would have been more fun… but it made the show no less powerful. Unbelievable. After the show, I walked back through Piccadilly Circus, Leicester Square, Trafalgar Square, and made my way to the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben. By then I could barely move, so I went back to Audrey’s and slept. The next morning I awoke refreshed, though slightly sore, and headed back into the city. Thursday included: The Houses of Parliament, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey (Side note: Westminster Abbey is one of the most amazing places I’ve ever been), Victoria Square, Trafalgar Square, the National Portrait Gallery, Leicester Square, and (I’m sorry to say) Starbucks. I have to say, I really think the Brits knew what they were doing when they built London… yes, I know it wasn’t a singular decision; but you get my point. Friday morning I departed for Liverpool from Euston Station.

Let’s pause on London for a minute. I don’t know that I’ve really been awed by any city so far like I was by London. Everything was built on such an enormous scale… a person can’t help but feel tiny. On top of that, around every corner exists some site or monument of extraordinary historical significance. The stories and artifacts within the walls of Westminster Abbey were like nothing I’ve seen before. I wouldn’t have the slightest idea of how to explain it to you.

So onto Liverpool. This character-laden port town isn’t much to look at when compared with London, but it contains a number of very important things: The Beatles, an enormous Anglican church, Papa John’s pizza, and friends from Miami. I spent the weekend with my great friend Ryan Hawkins, and a big group of friends currently working with Campus Crusade at three universities in the city. The weekend was spent exploring, telling old stories, sitting in a variety of great English pubs, and playing music. The first evening I was there, the team happened to be hosting an open mic night at a local club. Miss Sarah Toth, a great friend from Miami, and former worship team member, joined me on a few songs. It was really cool to get to make music with her again. Overall, ‘twas a great weekend with friends.

On Sunday evening, I braved the gauntlet that is Gatwick airport once again, and flew home to Prague. I hope to catch up on my sleep here soon… I’ll keep you posted. In the mean time, thanks for reading all of that. I’d love to hear from you all, so shoot me a note if you have a chance.

P.S. I didn't actually meet the Queen, despite my best efforts. I just thought that title might pique your curiosity and keep you reading.

The Houses of Parliament in London.

A view of Big Ben from Trafalgar Square.

Contrary to popular belief, this is actually the Tower Bridge, not the London Bridge. I was all ready to sing "London Bridge is falling down" at the top of my lungs, until I realized that London Bridge is about as exciting as an 1-90 overpass in Cleveland. Alas, the Tower Bridge was pretty amazing.

The Eye of London. I would have gone for a spin (I'm so punny) but it cost an arm and a leg. Some day, when the dollar is worth something... or the pound isn't... maybe I'll go for a whirl.

Buckingham Palace. The queen personally invited me over for some tea and biscuits... but you know, I still had a lot to see in London. Maybe next time.

Ryan and I... and Liverpool. At one point in the trip, Ryan and I reminisced about all of the places we've been together. Keep in mind, we've known each other since we were like 6. Liverpool will surely not be the last.

Miss Sarah Toth and I serenading the masses at Club Matinee in Liverpool. Oh to be back at Miami, where we did this on a weekly basis...

Sparta v Slavia

On Sunday, October 23rd, I attended a remarkable event. A Czech football (err… soccer) game. You may read that, and think to yourself, ‘Come on, Mike. How different can a sporting event in Central Europe really be from… I don’t know… a Cleveland Browns game?’ Well friends, the Dog Pound may be a fierce group of large drunken sports fanatics, but I don’t remember hearing about anyone in their midst staring death in the face. You see, Czech football is not for the weak of heart. It’s a game for warriors, for strategists, and for police clad in riot gear. Hundreds of them.

The game began like any other. Fans waved expressive signs in the air, rhythmic chants were heard throughout the stadium, and the players entered the arena to the sound of applause. And then the war began. The colorful signs disappeared from the fans o so many fans, only to be replaced with hand-held flares and fireworks… which were incidentally pointed at other people in the stadium. At random moments throughout the game, explosions and screams were heard, as fans dove out of the way of the flaming mortars bouncing between the seats. Rest assured, these occurrences were confined to the stands behind each goal, rather than the sides of the stadium, where I was seated.

You might also be surprised by the new and innovative ways that Czech football fans use their chairs at such events. Like in any given American stadium, the seats are firmly secured to the cement steps by iron bars and bolts. But Czechs are not so easily dissuaded by these petty implements. Within the first 30 minutes of the game, dozens, dare I say, hundreds of these chairs had been fully ripped from their bases and thrown onto the field. Soon thereafter, a group of chairs in one section became the site of a decent-sized bonfire. Apparently, some fans were feeling chilly? Within seconds, this fire had grown to engulf at least 10 or 15 seats, and the igniters of said fair had fled to safe distance with the rest of the people in the area.

“So where were the authorities?” you may ask. Well, friends, 150 of Prague’s finest were in attendance that evening, all clad in full riot gear. Over the course of the game, the police would intermittently charge into the stands, subdue any law-breakers, and then return to their posts on the warning track. Apparently, flares being thrown at them from the crowd weren’t enough to elicit a response, because usually such things were simply extinguished and disregarded. In regards to the fire; a pair of firemen quickly entered the stadium with a hose, put out the fire, and left. No blood, no foul apparently.

By the second half, there had been so many fireworks, and flares and bonfires, that smoke prohibited most spectators from seeing the ball. But rest assured, the game went on. Seriously. Through out all of this, there was no hesitation from the players on the field; the game continued as normal.

At the end of the game, all of my friends and I left unscathed. What a great night.

The game began like any other... with a big red Bart Simpson vs. Goose sign (I can't explain it, so don't ask) and a a few banners with such slogans as "Fans of Alcohol."

No one could criticize the Slavia fans for a lack of enthusiasm... or flares.

Some folks were feelin' a wee bit chilly... so they started a fire... in their seats. (Note the Riot Control team, and the two poor firemen who got stuck working the football game.)

The fans. From the left: Honza (our Czech host), Zach, Mark, Jodi, Kassidee, Matt, Amy, and Me.