To Be Determined

Retrospect, Resumes, and the Rest of the Story...

2007-02-03T00:22:00.000+01:00

I’m not sure if you knew this about me or not, but I’m an expert at hindsight. Retrospection and after-the-fact over-analysis are two of my most consistent character traits. This attribute is likely going to surface a few times during this potentially lengthy email, so take a deep-breath and perhaps a glass of wine. You’re in for a big one. I just thought I should warn you.

Our first example of hindsight relates to the very blog that you’re currently reading. After I posted stories and photos of the German and Czech adventure that was Kylepalooza ’07, I realized that I had neglected some crucial photos and stories. I’m ridiculous, I know. Just bear with me.

So lets start with the Ishtar Gate, one of the original entrances to the ancient city of Babylon. I don’t have a funny story to go with it, but I liked the picture a lot.

Kyle and I hit the Pergamon Museum just a few hours after Kyle’s bus pulled in, after which we shot over to the enormous Sony Center at Potsdamerplatz. For those unaware, the center, which holds a variety of restaurants, galleries and theatres, is recognizable from a far due to a huge glass and steel canopy that is meant to look like Mt. Fuji. So anyway, as we’re strolling through, we couldn’t help but notice a huge crowd of people, multiple projection screens, and more lights than the Superbowl. Of course, we felt it necessary to join the crowd. No sooner had we found ourselves a place near the front of the crowd, than a caravan of SUVs pulls up, and out steps Will Smith, wife Jada Pinkett, and son, whats-his-name. Apparently, we had stumbled onto the German premier of “The Pursuit of Happyness.” The funny thing is, most of the people in the crowd didn’t speak any English, so Will was greeted by shouts of “Veeel! Veeel! Hallo Veel!” Over and over and over. So of course, Kyle and I found it necessary to exercise our English fluency and shout “Love from Ohio, Will!” Don’t ask. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Well, anyway, Will turned to us and shouted “Yeah, Ohio!” That’s all there is to the story, really. But we think it’s a good one. It wasn’t until we were walking away that I realized I had miraculously captured the moment on film. So here’s a photo of Will “The Fresh Freakin’ Prince” Smith shouting “Yeah, Ohio!”

I already told you most of the Prague stories post-Berlin as they involved Kyle, but I might as well throw another picture in there. Pictured: Kyle, Mike, and Chuck (the Charles Bridge). This picture took forever to take, so I felt including it was necessary.

When last I posted, I didn’t have pictures of the Lednovy Underground Music Festical quite yet. So here is one of the decent ones sent to me since then. Pictured: Petr, Me, Boris, Kevin, and Michal. Kevin was being fuzzy when the photo was taken.

Retrospect also brought me to the conclusion that I hadn’t given due attention to the kind gentlemen who allowed me to crash in their flat for nearly a month. You’ve met Zach before… he was my roomie, traveling companion, and fellow beer critic last year. You’ve likely not yet met Andrew Straight. He has recently graduated from university with a degree in Music, recently proposed to a lovely young lady named Elanor, and recently recovered from a lengthy battle with Salmonella. It was pretty bad. Finally, we have Benji, a moody Beagle-ish dog who spends his time sleeping, drooling, humping and stealing and hiding shoes. We like him. Pictured: Zach, Andrew, and Benji.

Most of the last two weeks of my trip (post-Kyle) was spent with friends, former-students and the aforementioned moody Beagle. I spent more time in pubs than I care to admit, easily consumed more than 10 gallons of Masala tea at Kralupy’s teahouse. Like my last grand departure from Kralupy, I found that I hadn’t quite seen all the people I hoped to. So I sent out a blanket text message to the masses announcing that I would be at one specific pub at 7pm the night before my flight (Sunday), should anyone want to have one last beer with me before I go. 20 people showed up. On a Sunday night. In a wind storm. I’m not sure that I have that many friends in the states who would do the same. I’m going to miss them a lot. So here are pictures of them:

Also before I left, the friends who accompanied me to Siberia last summer gathered once again for an evening of stories, pictures and music. In addition to the original six, a handful of other friends joined in the festivities. It was a really great night. You may recall a photo from the Siberia blog in which Ondra, Martin and myself were displaying our Baltika beer proudly in front of the Trans-Siberian railroad line. Well we attempted to re-enact the photo, sans railroad, with Staropramen beer instead. I'm proud to have captured Ondra's halo on film as well. Pictured: The six Siberian travellers; St. Ondra, me and Martin.

I departed the Czech Republic on Monday morning. My dear friends, Zuzka and Katka drove me to Prague airport and sat with me while I waited for my flight. But it wasn't really goodbye, as they'll both be coming to visit me in the states this summer. Pictured: Me, Katka and Zuzka.

I mentioned to a friend yesterday that, while the trip was certainly full of people that I love dearly, it was also good for my soul and outlook on life in ways I hadn’t anticipated. I guess returning to a place that changed me so significantly over the course of two years, and finding that there are still people there who genuinely want me around and remember all the stories that I often think about… (again, hindsight playing an integral role in my well-being)… well it was just really good. But I also find myself a bit more optimistic about whats next. I cant really explain why, but returning to Kralupy brought a lot of closure for me. Apparently there wasn’t quite enough closure to keep me from applying for jobs in Prague before I left, but alas, the fish just weren’t biting. So now I’m back in the states.

I’ve been back in North Ridgeville, OH less than 100 hours, and already I’m feeling stir-crazy. I’ve never wanted to work… or at least to be productive… so badly in my life. I’ve been sending resumes to companies like its going out of style… and have unfortunately received very little feedback. If I don’t find something in the next week or two, I may very well just move to Chicago and work as a waiter for a bit longer. Its not such a bad deal, and it would certainly help the fact that I don’t really know many people in Chicago. But I’m pretty ambivalent about Cleveland and all that comes with living here. So why not throw caution to the wind once more while I can? Right? (This is where I need you to insert affirmation… or a job offer.)

Unlike my last post, I can’t promise that I’ll keep you updated in the near future. If I move I will certainly post an update, but my blogging motivation stateside is waning. The best way to reach me is email, and I would love to hear from you. I hope this note finds you well, my friends. Thanks for reading all of this.

Two quick notes before I go.

• As I type this, my counter is at 9,998 vistors. That means that the second person to view this new post will be the big #10,000. Congratulations, whoever you are. Shoot me a note and I’ll give you due recognition.

• If you’re the iTunes-perusing type, download “Long Time Traveller” by the Wailin’ Jennys. I submit it as one of the most beautiful songs ever written.

Czech, Germany, and the Big 10k

2007-01-18T13:56:00.000+01:00

Its been a while, friends. Once again, I find myself at a loss for good reasons that I haven't blogged in the last few months. My last excuse was a combination of withdrawl and denial. This time I can only plead laziness. Turkey season, the twelve days of Christmas and the turn of the year all came and went in a whirlwind. Most of my whirlwind experience was spent at Swingos Grand Tavern. I sold filet mignon and bathtub-sized banana splits like a maniac. Alas, those days are over now. January 2nd was my last day. Two days later, I was on a plane back to Europe. Pictured: The last night at Swingos. From the left: Christine, Bonnie, Andrea, Mike, Sean, Patrick.

The plan all along (though I occassionally second-guessed it) was to find gainful, interesting employment in Cleveland for the remainder of 2006 and to return to Kralupy for a student ball, a music festival, and one of the most beautiful places in the world sans tourists. And so it was. I did my best to hit the ground running and in the first three days managed to attend a wedding, a student ball, and more than a few pubs with friends I'd been missing terribly. In a lot of ways it feels like I never left. I'm sipping the same brew, laughing at the same stories, and dancing traditional Czech dances with people who call me "Miku" because they don't realize that English grammar doesn't change names like theirs does. My Czech came flooding back as soon as I stepped off the plane, and that alone had me smiling for a good couple of hours. It feels really good to be back here. Pictured: Prague

3 1/2 days after arriving in Prague, I found myself stepping off of a bus in Berlin, Germany. The following morning I met my long-time friend, brother, and partner-in-crime, Kyle, who had flown in from Scotland. Having thoroughly (which is a really hard word for Czechs to say) enjoyed the city last year, it only seemed right that I take Kyle on a grand tour. My pictures are a bit limited, because in all honesty, I have more than plenty of pictures of the same places from last year... just hit my archived post from February (or March?) 2006. So the two of us toured, sipped german hefeweisen and gluhwein, and made fools of ourselves on more than one occasion. All elements of a quality German sojourn, I think. We also met a two young ladies from Peru and Denmark, with whom we toured and gorged ourselves on schnitzel. Pictured: Brandenburg Gate; Kyle and I at the Pergamon Altar; Kyle, Adriana, Sedsil, and me at a little German pub.

After a few days in Germany, Kyle and I bussed back down to Prague. As mentioned previously, part of my choosing to return now was for the Lednovy Underground Music, in which I have taken part the last two years. This year was by far the best. My great friend Kevin, who lives in the town of Ostrava, took a 5 hour train into Prague just to play drums with us for 20 minutes. What a great guy. There are quite a few other pictures of Kevin elsewhere in this blog. So it was Kevin, myself, Boris (also pictured frequently) on saxophone, Petr on guitar, and Michal on bass. The crowd included so many of my old students who have been requesting the same songs for the last two years. It was so fun... though exhausting. I hope to have pictures of that soon. The next couple of days were spent touring the lovely city of Prague... let's be honest, I give a pretty incredible tour. You should probably hire me. The Prague leg of our world tour involved quite a few late nights, most of which can be blamed on English teachers at Gymnazium nad Aleji. I'm confident they'll disagree, but don't listen. Pictured: Kyle and I above the Charles Bridge; Amy, Kassidee, Ben, Kyle and myself at a random pub.

So Kyle hopped on a plane back to the states (with a layover in Istanbul??) on Tuesday night, and since then I have been relaxing and meeting with friends and students. I even had a chance to help Zach teach one of my old classes. I plan to continue with much of the same until my departure on January 29th.

As for whats next, I'm not ready to think about it too seriously. For better or worse. I'll likely post a more sentimental/introspective/panicked perspective of whats to come in a later blog.

As for the 10k mentioned in the title, scroll down to the bottom of the page real quick. You just may be the 10,000th visitor. Congratulations. As for the honor of being your e-distraction of choice, I'd like to thank the academy, my parents, my friends, and of course Time Magazine for choosing me as the 2006 Person of the Year. Maybe I'll put that on my resume.

Thanks for reading. I'll post again soon.

Autumn in Ohio

2006-10-18T19:37:00.000+02:00

Its been two months since my last update.  To be honest, it wasn’t completely unintentional.  Re-adjusting to a country and culture so different than those of my last two years, combined with a little voice in my head that often whispers “You have no idea what you’re doing next”… didn’t lend itself to a desire for public disclosure and scrutiny.  Sorry for that.  I just wasn’t ready to update.

However, in the last week and a half I’ve made a handful of decisions.  How long said decisions will last is a whole different issue, but as my friend Kyle and I determined this week: we’re confident in where we think we’re headed.  Whatever that means.  But I’m ahead of myself.  Lets back up a bit.

I returned to North Ridgeville, Ohio on August 8th.  You may or may not recall that two weeks before my initial departure for the Czech Republic, my parents moved to a new house in a new town.  My enthusiasm about returning to a fairly unfamiliar town with very few remaining/single friends was waning. I spent the first couple of weeks sitting around and reading books.  I took a short trip to Chicago to play music at the wedding of Greg and Liz Masching (that wasn’t her last name before the wedding).  Post-wedding is when the anxiety started to set in.  So I started sending resumes.  Unfortunately the job application process isn’t nearly as speedy as I had hoped it might be, and financial need led me to get a job as a server at Swingos Grand Tavern, a swanky new restaurant not far from my parents’ place.  I’m learning tons about top-shelf wine and single-malt scotch, which has been really fun.  It’s a great job with great co-workers, but the restaurant business is not my career of choice.  In the meantime, resumes were processed, interviews were done, and though a few opportunities rose to the top I have yet to find a job that I’m genuinely excited about.  So I’m still looking.

As you might expect, this time of reflection, analysis and self-marketing has led me to consider on my options and interests a fair bit.  So the aforementioned decisions I’ve recently made are as follows…  For the next month and a half I’ll be preparing to take the LSAT.  No gasps please.  This doesn’t mean I’ve decided to attend law school.  It simply means that I’m going to take the test, see how I do, and make my decision accordingly.  I’ll continue to wait tables until New Years-ish.  The arrival of 2007 will mark my return to Europe for a short visit.  I’ll be spending as much time as possible with my friends in Kralupy and Prague during that time, and possibly taking a side trip or two to visit folks elsewhere.  When I return home, I plan on staying only long enough to establish residency elsewhere.  I’m thinking about Chicago.  From what I hear, finding work in another city is far easier if you live there.  So I think I’ll go.  I mean, why not.

In other news, Mr. Jason Chamlee, my former roommate, traveling companion, and European partner-in-crime is now married to the former Miss Susana Torres.  They were married on October 7 at Kumler Chapel in Oxford, Ohio.  I was a groomsman and musician for the ceremony.  It was an amazing weekend spent with old friends and Sgt. Joshua Florio, home for three weeks on leave from Afghanistan.  He’ll be heading back over on Thursday (tomorrow) and I’m sure he’d love to find a care package or two waiting for him when he gets there, so shoot me a note if you want his address.  Pictures of the wedding are posted below.

I hope that as you read this, you are doing well.  I’d love to hear from you sometime.  My email is HarveyME@gmail.com.

2006-10-18T19:36:00.000+02:00

It took far longer to take this photo than it should have,

2006-10-18T19:34:00.001+02:00

Chams, Fleaux and I.

2006-10-18T19:34:00.000+02:00

The wedding party. We're just a bunch of good-looking people. Let's be honest.

2006-10-18T19:32:00.000+02:00

Wedding rehearsal.

2006-10-18T19:29:00.000+02:00

Culture Shock. Because of lawsuits over the name Budweiser, the original Budvar cannot be marketed under that name in the states... but Czechvar? Thats just ridiculous. Oh, and it doesn't even taste good. I'm despondant.

2006-10-18T19:27:00.000+02:00

I applied for a Key Visa card to get a free iPod Nano. I received this letter in response. I laughed for days. Keep in mind I've been earning Czech Koruna for the last two years.

Siberia

2006-08-16T16:43:00.000+02:00

My trip to Siberia was probably one of the most remarkable experiences of my life. I’ll do my best to explain why in the coming paragraphs, but honestly I’m hoping to see most of you in the coming weeks, so a coffeeshop or a pub (more for my European friends… as pub culture isn’t exactly flourishing in the States) may be a more appropriate venue for these stories to be told.

So a few months back, my friend Boris asked if I would be interested in taking a backpacking trip to Lake Baikal, Russia with him and some other friends. Though I had been planning a few things in the back of my mind for that time, the opportunity to spend three weeks in Russia with a 5 Czechs fluent in Russian seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime chance. So I jumped on it. The group included (from the left): Pavla the university student, Myself, Martin the PhD candidate and history teacher, Tereza the university student and girlfriend to Boris, Ondrej the photographer, and Boris the Physics teacher.

Part One: Registration

Despite a recent airplane crash in Irkutsk, we decided to place our trust in Pulkovo Airlines, and land in this Siberian industrial town only a few days later. The adventure began almost immediately. By law, all foreigners must register with the police within three days of arrival. We had been given the contact information of a travel agency in Irkutsk which could apparently make a typically long registration process significantly shorter. However, after two hours of looking for the agency, we were told that it had closed a few months before. Frustrated, we opted to suck it up and stand in line at the foreign police station. Little did we know, however, that though the police station was open, Thursday was a day that foreign registration was not possible. It was Thursday. The woman at the counter, who would typically be the one to register us, suggested another travel agency. We called the agency and they sent a van to pick us up. We were then taken to this back-lot shack of a building, where a dark office on the second floor and a woman at a cluttered desk served as our travel agency. (Photo: Steps leading to the Travel Agency)

After an hour or so of paperwork, money exchanges and passport checks, we were again sent away by van. This time the van took us to a police station. But friends, this was not like any police station you’ve seen before. Situated in the middle of what seemed an endless field of cement block housing, this desolate facility, with boarded up windows and all, looked a though it should have been on someone’s “condemned” list. We walked through the doorway into an empty dark hallway, lit only by a single bare lightbulb. We turned a few corners and up a dark set of stairs to a heavy, locked metal door. Our guide/travel agent knocked loudly on the door, was asked to identify himself (in Russian of course) and we were allowed to enter. Behind said door was long dark corridor, again lit by a naked bulb, in which a dozen or so Mongolian men were sitting silently on benches, apparently awaiting their turn for something. We walked past them and into a small room full of cardboard boxes, technical equipment in various stages of disrepair, and one little old woman sitting behind a desk piled high with papers. One by one we gave our information and money to the lady, and one by one were given our registration papers. I’m still not entirely sure what that was all about, but I was thankful when we emerged alive and well from that building. (Photo: The Police Station)

Part Two: The Beginning

Post-registration, we headed to the Irkutsk train station, where we caught a 3-hour train to Sludyanka, a small fishing town on the boast of Baikal. Once there, no further connections were available so we set up our tents in a city park. The next morning we had a breakfast of pieroshki (fried bread stuffed with mashed potatoes) and smoked fish (sold from cardboard boxes by a dozen or so little old ladies at nearly every train station in the country… I know that sounds like an invitation for intestinal devastation, but they were actually quite good). Soon thereafter we hopped a taxi-van to our trailhead at the base of the mountains. And so it began.

I’ve never seen so many mosquitoes and flies in my life. Let’s just start there. Saturated in OFF, the six of us swam through a sea of insects that first day, slopped endlessly through ankle-deep mud and over miles of tree roots. By the end of the second day, we had emerged from our present-day plague of locusts into a beautiful expanse of Siberian mountains, lakes and rivers… but believe me when I say I was cursing my decision to come on the trip during those first 24 hours.

Each day in mountains consisted of routine. Because we were so far north, the sun didn’t go down until around midnight and then rose again 3 hours later. This allowed us to hike much later than we might have done in other parts of the world, and also allowed us to sleep a bit later. So each day, we rose around 9, breakfasted for an hour or so, then began our trek. Breakfast was typically tea, soup, and oatmeal. A lunch of dried meat, granola, crackers and cheese came around 3pm. Hiking ended around 8 each night. A bonfire or propane stove heated rice, pasta, instant mashed potatoes and dried meat each night for dinner.

As for weather, most days were 70F (21C)-ish and cloudy. It rained nearly every night. I don’t know if that’s typical Siberian weather, but it wasn’t so bad.

Part Three: The River

Our approach was simple. We had a map which showed a trail leading from our trailhead to the village of Arshan. We estimated the trip would take ten days, and so we prepared accordingly. The trouble is, occasionally the map wasn’t entirely accurate. The most memorable example of this is a river crossing which was marked on the map as having a bridge from one side to the other. When we arrived, however, only the foundations of a bridge remained. Fortunately, we met a man on the bank of the river who offered us a rope, if we promised to return it to his flat on our way back through Irkutsk. I guess I didn’t realize initially how crucial this rope was. The river was 20 yards wide, chest deep, and extremely fast and cold. We were 6 days into the trip so turning back wasn’t an option… so we made sure all of important stuff was in plastic bags inside our packs and one by one made our way across the river. After Ondra crossed first with the rope, the line was tied to boulders on both sides of the river. Even with the rope, crossing was treacherous, and Boris ended up with a wicked rope bur across his forearm when one hand nearly lost its grip. Providence came to our aid again, when two Russian men, Sasha and Yasha appeared on the opposite bank. We had met these two men earlier on the trail, and they had fortunately opted to spend a whole day camped by the river after their own treacherous crossing. Using a shorter length of rope and a carabiner, Sasha set up a harness system that allowed us to cross without absolute dependence on our hands. It took nearly three hours for all six of us to cross. Oh and it started raining an hour into the crossing. It was cold, wet, dangerous, and one of the most memorable things I’ve done in the last two years. (Photos: Panoramic of the river. Boris crossing for the second time.)

Shivering yet accomplished, we were then led to Sasha and Yasha’s camp, where these two men cooked us dinner, prepared liter after liter of tea, and hung a plastic tarp over our heads to keep us dry during the meal. There was speculation that maybe we had not in fact survived the river, and this camp was heaven. That was quickly ruled out by the presence of our soaked boots and bruised legs, but we were all feeling pretty great. (Photo: Yasha making dinner with spices found in the woods... notice the boots lined up for drying around the fire.)

The next morning we hiked again, our boots finally dry after a night next to a roaring fire. Sometime around lunchtime, we stumbled across a beautiful riverside beach. It was one of the only really hot sunny days we’d had, and the beach was sandy and empty. The decision to spend the afternoon relaxing there was not a difficult one.

The 12-day trip through the mountains ended in the village of Arshan. It rained the last 24 hours of our trip, so that last stretch was particularly muddy and dangerous as we balanced our way across a half dozen make-shift log bridges. We emerged from the forest around 3 in the afternoon, and were immediately greeted with loud Russian hip-hop music, and shop after shop selling bootleg movies and souvenir Buddha statues. I laughed my way through the most of the village. From Arshan we took a bus back to Sludyanka. After another night in the village park and a morning of smoked fish at the train station, he hopped a train along the coast of Baikal. (Photo: Sludyanka train station)

Part Four: The Railroad

The train we boarded was a tourist train which allowed passengers to stop every 30 minutes or so and walk around, take pictures, and learn the history of the former Trans-Siberian railroad which had once run along the same track. 25 miles (40 kilometers) before the end, we decided to get off the train with all of our stuff. We hiked the remaining distance on the railroad tracks over three days, and camped alongside the tunnels and aqueducts of the former train-line. It was relaxing and really beautiful. A nice end to our Siberian excursion.

Part Five: The Long Trip Home

When we reached the end of the trainline, we took a van back to Irkutsk, where we cleaned up, explored the city, and sipped a bit o’ Russian vodka. Strapped for Russian Rubles, we opted to sleep at the train station that night and head to the airport early the next morning. I don’t care how pretty a train station is, sleeping in such a place is never comfortable. But whatever. Squinty eyed and crabby, we arrived at the airport around 7am… only to find that because of the airports limited ability to only process one flight at a time, our plane would not be leaving until 1:30. So we sat and waited. (Photo: Ondra, Martin and I passing the time in Irkutsk)

Our flight to St. Petersburg was thankfully uneventful. A 15-hour layover meant that the airline put us up in a hotel for the evening, and we had some time to explore the city. With only a short-time to explore, we walked briskly through the city taking pictures of things we knew nothing about, and eating heaps of Russian baked goods with the knowledge that we wouldn’t have another opportunity. (Photos: St. Petersburg)

We returned to Prague bright and early on the morning of July 31^st.

I don’t imagine I’ll ever forget this trip. The mountains, mosquitoes, and mud will remain forever etched in my mind. Unfortunately, I also know that I will likely not return to this part of the world in my life, and certainly not with 5 great Russian-speaking Czech friends. I can’t tell you how glad I am that I jumped on this opportunity when I did.

Top 5 Songs playing in my head during this 19 day adventure...

High and Dry by Radiohead
Vienna (There's Really No Way to Reach Me) by The Fray
Wade in the Water as arranged by Eva Cassidy
Ain't No Sunshine by Bill Withers
Black River by Amos Lee

You’ve been reading for a while now… or at least skimming. I’d love to hear your thoughts. Post a comment or leave me a note.

Alive and Well

2006-08-04T07:34:00.000+02:00

Hey!

I made it back from Siberia in one piece, and had an unbelievable time there.

The problem is, I only have a few more days in the Czech Republic, and I've managed to fill my schedule to the extent that I will likely not have time to post my Siberian pictures and stories until I get back to the states on Wednesday.

Sorry for the delay, I know I promised some of you pictures much sooner than that, but you'll just have to sit tight for a bit.

I hope you're doing well and staying cool (temperature and character quality) in what I hear has been a swelteringly hot summer. I'm looking forward to seeing you soon.

Mike

A Couple Short Notes...

2006-07-12T00:55:00.000+02:00

Hey.

I realized that I never posted pictures of my non-Maturita students. These folks are just as great as the older students, so they too certainly deserve some space on the blog. Enjoy.

So tomorrow morning... er, six hours from right now... I'll be boarding a plane to Siberia. I'll be spending 3 weeks on the southern edge of Lake Baikal with 5 Czech friends. If you're a praying person, a short prayer for safety would be greatly appreciated. I'll be back on July 31st... so don't hate me when I don't reply to emails or post any witty or insightful blogs during the next few weeks.

I hope your summer is going well and that you're staying cool (in both quality and temperature.)

Talk to you soon.
Mike

2006-07-12T00:54:00.000+02:00

My 4.G (eighth grade) students... pictured on the school's fancy new outdoor classroom terrace.

2006-07-12T00:53:00.000+02:00

One half of 6.G (Sophomores). This picture was their idea. For real.

2006-07-12T00:52:00.000+02:00

The other half of 6.G.

Eireann Go Braugh

2006-07-02T14:22:00.000+02:00

At the end of every school year in my town, one week is specifically set aside for students to take trips across the country, continent or planet. Trips are organized by teachers and only a handful of students opt to stay home during this time. You may remember that I took a trip to Croatia last June with students. Well this year I decided to organize a trip of my own... to Ireland. I mean, why the heck not?

Accompanied by 17 students and two other teachers (Zach and Zdenek, our head English teacher) I flew to Dublin Irland on June 22nd. The flight was a first for at least three of the students. We spent two nights in Dublin and filled our days there with walking tours, photo opportunities a bit o' Guinness beer. After our second night in Dublin we bussed to Galway. Galway is an amazing town situated right on the coast... everyone quickly fell in love with the parks, shops, and music that the city had to offer. Day 4 of the trip involved a day-long bus tour to the Cliffs of Moher. Overall, the tour itself was kind of blah... but the cliffs made the monotonous tour guide and bumpy riding all worth it. The Cliffs of Moher may be one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. There's no way I could possibly describe the cliffs to you in a way that would even come close to doing them justice. So I'll just include some pictures. Three days of touring, dancing, frisbee throwing and shopping ended with a bus back to Dublin. By this point in the trip most of us were pretty pooped, so the last night was pretty laid back. It was a great trip. Some of the students even went so far as to say it was the best school trip they'd ever taken. When we returned on the 28th, school was over and my goodbyes began. More on that to come... Anyway, I have to run. I hope you enjoy the pictures.

2006-07-02T14:16:00.001+02:00

Dublin Castle.

2006-07-02T14:16:00.000+02:00

The Ha'Penny Bridge in Dublin.

2006-07-02T14:14:00.000+02:00

In the middle of Dublin is a giant metal spike that reaches 120 meters into the air. Tereza, Iva, Pavla, Kristyna and I are pictured at the base of it. I just thought it was a cool photo.

2006-07-02T14:11:00.000+02:00

St. Patrick's Cathedral in Dublin.

2006-07-02T14:09:00.000+02:00

Galway, Ireland.

2006-07-02T14:07:00.000+02:00

Atop of the Cliffs of Moher.

2006-07-02T14:05:00.000+02:00

The Cliffs of Moher. To give you an idea of how big the cliffs are, look closely for the people standing on top...

2006-07-02T14:03:00.000+02:00

The whole group in the middle of Dublin.

Kdo Neskáče Není Čech. Hop Hop Hop!

2006-06-12T22:00:00.000+02:00

Translation: "Who isn't jumping isn't Czech. Jump, jump, jump!"

As you hopefully are aware, most of the world is currently engaged in the time-honored tradition of World Cup Soccer (or Football, if you’re from anywhere but America). This evening, I’m happy to report that the Czech Republic brought the noise in Gelsenkirchen, Germany and bested the boys in red, white and blue on the field of battle... er, soccer... with a final score of 3-0. (Technically, the Czech players were also wearing red, white, and blue... but you get the point.) You may be taken aback by the candor with which I am boasting the defeat of my hometeam, and I guess you’re justified in feeling this way. However, in honor of today's victory, I'd like to list for you...

The Top 10 Reasons I have chosen to support the Czech Republic and not the USA in the 2006 World Cup.

If I were sitting in America right now, chances are pretty good that I wouldn’t be watching the World Cup. Let’s just be honest about that up front.
Before the game began, I could name at least 3 Czech players. Can you name any of the American players?
I’m a conversational English teacher. If I support America…and they win… my students stop talking to me.
If Czech wins, everybody is in a better mood the following day… including the ticket sellers at the train station and the ladies who work at the post office. No bad can come from a slightly improved disposition in either area.
I’ve watched enough Czech sports in the last two years to feel comfortable pledging to them my soccer loyalty at the very least.
Yahoo! thinks Czech will win it all. No harm can come from supporting a team that’s slated to win.
I generally watch these games in pubs surrounded by somewhat-inebriated Czech men of greater size than myself. To cheer when America scores would be to bring upon myself a world of hurt.
It’s really fun to cheer in Czech.
If America wins the World Cup, most people in the states won’t care. If Czech wins the World Cup, the national celebrations will last for a month.
As the announcer so frankly explained in the middle of the game this evening, “The Americans in the crowd are jumping up and down because they don’t realize that the Czechs are yelling ‘Who isn’t jumping isn’t Czech.’” (Translation)

Bohemian Pomp and Circumstance

2006-05-29T19:25:00.000+02:00

Well, at long last the maturita exams are behind us. I tested 50 students last week, and all of them passed. I couldn’t be more proud of them. It was an exhausting week to say the least, but it was good. I realized last year about this time that I had officially made the transition from college kid to old man when I found joy in a week of tests. As mentioned previously, the maturita exams are huge and terrifying… but in a strange way they’re kind of fun. The novelty of a new schedule coupled with finally seeing my students tangibly rewarded for their efforts just makes for a good time.

The testing came to a close on Thursday evening with a final gathering of each class. We stood around in a large circle, some short speeches were made and tears shed, the students gave each teacher a flower (or bouquet of sausages), and we said goodbye. The teachers then retreated to a classroom-turned-dining room and sipped wine and munched hors d'oeuvres together.

The following day involved a traditional morning keg party across the street from the school (not kidding) followed in the evening by the traditional graduation ceremony. This ceremony is much shorter than its American counterpart, and involves a glass of champagne for each teacher and student in attendance. A pretty good deal if you ask me.

This year, the graduation ceremony was followed by a class party with my 4-year students. The party was held at a pub not far from the school and lasted until the wee hours of the morning. It was a good time, and a great way to congratulate many of the students I’ve grown close to.

A few short hours after finally getting to bed, I arose to play Badminton with Zach and two of our students. It was a lot of fun… but certainly sapped me of any energy I may have had left. The remainder the afternoon was spent preparing music with Boris. That evening, Boris’s band played a small pub concert with yours truly as a special guest. I played a handful of tunes suitable for a relaxed smoky pub, and was pleased to find that a number of students and a few other American teachers had come to see the show. A good time was had by all.

I’ve been staring at this computer screen for much to long now. I’m going to grab some dinner. I hope that you’re well and that those of you suffering a stuffy Ohio spring are keeping cool. I’ll talk to you soon.

2006-05-29T18:45:00.000+02:00

A handful of students surprised me by coming to my concert on Saturday night. From the left: Michal, me, Eva, Adela, Veronika, Jana, Bara, Vojta, Radka, Marie.

2006-05-29T18:25:00.000+02:00

Mike the English teacher, Andrej the headmaster, and Boris the saxophone-playing Physics teacher at the maturita party.

2006-05-29T18:23:00.000+02:00

Mike, Lucka, and Michal at the maturita party

2006-05-29T18:19:00.000+02:00

My last conversation class. Normally, there were 21 students. Go figure, less than half of them show up on the day I bring my camera to class. They were a lot of fun... I hate knowing that it's over.

2006-05-29T18:15:00.000+02:00

Half of my recently graduated 8-year students.

2006-05-29T18:13:00.000+02:00

The other half. Great students.

A Tale of Two and a Half Cities

2006-05-20T09:54:00.000+02:00

Two nights ago I posted a pretty heavy blog about my trip to Auschwitz. Today, I’m posting something completely different. It should be mentioned that all chronology has been thrown out the window at this point... so lets back the truck up about three weeks.

You may remember mention of the Czech Labor Day on May 1^st. Well this year the holiday fell on a Monday, which means we teachers had yet another three day weekend. My great friend Joel and I decided to take a trip. Our destinations were Plzen and Telc.

Plzen is a town famous for really only one reason... beer. About a hundred and fifty years ago, a man named Josef Groll developed a brewing process that resulted in a rich-flavored, golden-colored lager. If you’ve ever tasted Pilsner Urquell, you know that the Groll perfected lager. The name “pilsner” actually comes from the name of the town where it was invented. Like champagne cannot technically be called champagne if its not from the Champagne region of France, pilsner is not pilsner if its not from Plzen. So Joel and I went.

The tour of the factory was fascinating. From the huge copper vessels where the water is first boiled to the miles upon miles of cold underground corridors filled with oak barrels, our time at the factory was more an experience than it was just a tour. Anyway, it was great.

Upon completion of the Pilsner experience, Joel and I ran to the bus station and headed for the town of Telc. Due to a series of missed connections accompanied by rainy bus stations, a trip that should have taken 3 ½ hours took 7 hours. We arrived at our penzion just before midnight.

Our penzion, like a bed and breakfast without the breakfast, was located just off the main square of Telc and offered warm beds for decent prices. The funny thing is, Joel and I were the only guests that weekend... we’re not totally convinced the owner even had room for any more people. It was the two of us and Eva, a middle aged Czech woman who spoke zero English. Between Joel and I, we were able to communicate with relative ease, but the situation was a constant source of chuckling for the weekend.

Anywho, the city of Telc (pronounced telch) is widely-reputed for having one of the most beautiful town squares in the Czech Republic. In fact, the square is one of only 12 UNESCO protected sites in this country. What the tour books and UNESCO experts failed to mention is that during the months of May and June 2006, the is under heavy construction. The beautiful facades of the houses that line the square were eclipsed by mountains of dirt and rocks. So, left with no other options, Joel and I decided to construct a castle using those resources so readily available to us. That was our second and last night there.

In Telc’s defense, it really is a beautiful place despite the unsightly construction. The outskirts of the town are full of amazing parks and carp ponds. For picture-takers like Joel and myself, it was well worth the time and money. After realizing that there wasn’t a ton to do in Telc, we took a short afternoon trip to the town of Jihlava, home to one of the largest town squares in Europe and also home to some 30 km of catacombs running under the city. All in all, twas a great weekend. Enjoy the pictures.

2006-05-20T08:56:00.000+02:00

Mike and Joel in Telc.

2006-05-20T08:53:00.000+02:00

From the outside Telc is really beautiful... I'm sure it is inside as well... when everything is intact and not under piles of rocks.

2006-05-20T08:51:00.000+02:00

In the midst of the large park on the edge of Telc is a huge, old tree which is hollow inside... with room enough for at least a mid-size sedan... if the outside of the tree had a garage door or something similar. But lets be honest, that just stupid. I dont know how a tree ends up like that, but I found it picture-worthy.

2006-05-20T08:47:00.000+02:00

Its really lovely what they've done with the place.

2006-05-20T08:46:00.000+02:00

When life (Telc) give you lemons (cement blocks), make lemonade (castles).

Auschwitz

2006-05-19T00:29:00.000+02:00

Two weeks ago, I stood in a room where literally thousands of people, all of whom believed that they were being decontaminated after a long train ride, were systematically executed.  I peered inside the furnaces where bodies were burned one after the other.  Occasionally, bodies not completely dead were placed inside.  I looked out over the fields and into the woods where the ashes were dumped.

Somewhere between the room full of human hair, used for manufacturing industrial textiles, and the towering piles of suitcases, all meticulously labeled by owners believing they would be reunited with their belongings in the not too distant future, there is a lesson to be learned at Auschwitz.  I suppose the lessons most people receive are: “Hate has no excuse,” or “Unless we remember the atrocities of the past, history is doomed to repeat itself.”  I don’t disagree with either of these statements… but I guess the realization that affected me most was “I am no different.”  I am no different from the Jews, gypsies, and protesters who lived their last days packed with hundreds of others inside houses of wooden beds frames and overflowing stone latrines.  I am no different from the children who were beaten bloody because of the beliefs of their parents.  I am no different from the doctors who conducted fertility experiments on women in cold dark rooms.  I am no different from the Nazi soldiers who, when the experiments failed, lined the women up against a stone wall and shot them in the back of the head.  Somewhere inside me is the ability to withstand excruciating humiliation and agony.  Somewhere inside me in the capacity to inflict incomprehensible pain and suffering upon others.

My greatest disappointment that weekend came in the fact that I wasn’t more viscerally affected by the things I saw.  As an American who has sat through a great number of Holocaust lessons in grade school, perused the pages of Anne Frank’s diary, walked through the halls of the Holocaust Memorial in Washington D.C., and watched hours of concentration camp dramatizations like “Schindler’s List” or “Life is Beautiful,” I have been exposed to these atrocities before.  However, three specific things stand out in my mind for which I was not prepared.  First, the room full of human hair and the products made from this hair in an adjacent display.  Second, the sheer size of Auschwitz II was astounding to me.  A brisk walk from the main front gate to the ruins of the rear furnaces takes nearly 20 minutes.  Third, the moment I realized that for all of the first-hand accounts of the suffering that went on behind those walls, there are thousands of men and women who committed these crimes who go unrecognized as criminals by their families and neighbors.  I can only assume that during the last two years here, or in the 22 years prior, I have walked past former Nazi soldiers or family members on the street, stood next to them in a grocery store line, or worshipped with them in church.  But we never hear those stories.

2006-05-19T00:27:00.000+02:00

Auschwitz I

2006-05-19T00:26:00.002+02:00

Aushwitz-Birkenau

2006-05-19T00:26:00.001+02:00

Auschwitz-Birkenau. In the background you can see a field of chimneys. Just prior to liberation, much of the camp was destroyed by the Nazis. Soon after the war, a private organization had all of the chimneys of the former bunkers rebuilt to demonstrate the scale of the crime.

2006-05-19T00:25:00.000+02:00

"Work makes free."

Eggs and Whips, Alcohol and Witches

2006-04-23T23:43:00.000+02:00

Velikonoce

Some of you have been waiting for this post for a while. I’m sorry it comes a bit late.

As we move swiftly from the cold and gray to the green and sunny (its about flippin’ time) something deep inside the American psyche eagerly anticipates colored eggs, grilled burgers, and jelly beans by the pound. I’m sorry to say, friends, that such expectations take some different forms in my current country of residence: yes, Czechs color Easter eggs… but that is where the similarities stop.

First the basics. Easter in the Czech Republic is celebrated on the first Monday after the first full moon following the Vernal Equinox. (This is the same system by which American Easter Sunday is determined… just one day later.) Because the holiday always falls on a Monday, the administration surely can’t expect people to work or learn, so everything is closed. Additionally, Czech students have Thursday and Friday off of school.

Easter (Velikonoce) festivities begin at sunrise. Boys and men of all ages rise quietly from their beds and reach for their Pomlazka… a 2 – 5 foot whip made of braided willow branches. Though most men hand-make their whips each year, they can also be purchased at reasonable prices in most city centers. With pomlazka in hand, the boys/men then beckon their wives, daughters, sisters and mothers from their beds as well. Tradition says that women who are whipped across the bottom on Easter morning will be healthier and more beautiful in the coming year. However, the woman can only be whipped while the man is singing/reciting a Easter poem. These poems are known by heart from a very young age, and most Czechs can recite them beginning to end in their sleep. Typically the poems last 20 seconds or so… but some of my students have reported that their dads will repeat poems a few times over for longer-lasting fun. Pictured is Jiri Paroubek, the current Czech Prime Minister, with his Pomlazka.

Within the home, the whipping is little more than a gentle, playful sort of ritual. However, once mom and sis have been tapped with the whip, the young men in the family leave the home in search of female neighbors, family members, and friends. The boys (4 – 18 years old… and occasionally older) ring the doorbell of their chosen target, are ushered in by the parents of the dreading female, and repeat the singing/whipping process with the new young lady… often with increasingly more force. Upon completion of the poem, young boys (12 and younger) are given colored eggs and sweets as a token of friendship and thanks. Older boys are given shots of alcohol. Remember, this all takes place between 6am and noon. A colored ribbon is also tied to the end of the whip for each girl who has been struck.When all is said and done, young boys return home with Halloween-like stashes of eggs and sweets… older boys are often too drunk at noon to return home quite yet.

Many of my female students are quick to point out that after noon, girls have the right to splash boys with water… as if this makes up for their newly acquired bruises. The vast majority of girls I’ve spoken with say that they hate Easter morning, but maintain that the tradition should be continued for tradition’s sake.

In the last two years, I have not witnessed this tradition with my own eyes… this year I was in Amsterdam (see previous posts). However, it a topic of endless interest for me… I just find it to be so baffling (in a completely non-ethnocentric sort of way, of course). Feel free to post your comments and opinions below.

Čarodejnice

Another big spring holiday is rapidly approaching which you should probably also know about. Čarodejnice is a holiday (un-official) which is celebrated on the last day of April every year. You may or may not remember me brielfy mentioning this holiday in a post last year, so I'll give you a refresher. At sundown, the Czech people gather at bonfires to celebrate the end of the cold months and the arrival of spring. These bonfires, ranging from small backyard barbecues to blazing wooden structures upwards of 10 feet high serve two purposes: first for roasting sausages and meat in various forms (I have neither the time nor the energy to get into Zabijecka, the pig killing event that takes place in the spring and fall in which all parts of the pig are eaten. Let's just leave it at: "Huh, that sounds interesting.") The second purpose of the bonfire is to serve as the base for the witch burning. An edifice of a witch, usually constructed of hay, sticks and old clothes are placed upon the fire at sundown.

I'm fairly certain that this tradition stems from a pagan ritual of old... a number of students and friends have more or less passed this information along. However, nearly all of my students see this tradition as simply a seasonal transition and an excuse to drink and eat grilled meat. The nest day (May 1st) is Labor day, so sleeping in and recovering from the night's festivities is no problem.

Svatek Prace

During communism, Labor Day was a government-sponsored holiday "in honor of the worker." Schools, factories, and businesses were all closed, but everyone was basically required to attend city parades celebrating communism. Those individuals who did not attend the parades were black-listed, as were their families for generations to come. I have one adult student who wasn't able to attend university simply because her grandfather had been unwilling to take his family to such an event. Had communism not come to an end, this student was certain that her children would have had similar limitations.

Nowadays, Labor Day is still a national holiday in which people are given a day off. There are no longer any annual traditions that I am aware of. People tend to spend the day with their families... as it should be, I think.

Interestingly enough, May 1st is also the Czech "Day of Love." Tradition says that young men should kiss their respective young ladies under a blossoming tree. Those women who are kissed will be (again) healthier and more beautiful because of it. Apart from the kissing, this day also serves as a Czech version of Valentine's Day, minus the greeting cards. Quite the transition between the Day of Love and Easter, eh?

I don't know how many of you are still reading, but I appreciate you getting this far. I hope you and your families had a great Easter, and that the weather outside your window is warm and sunny. I'll talk to you soon.

If you ain't Dutch, you ain't much.

2006-04-18T17:47:00.000+02:00

I really knew very little about Amsterdam when I hopped a flight last Thursday morning.  I knew that there were a few canals floating around (punny, I know), I knew that Van Gogh spent a fair bit of time there, and I knew that it had an unfortunate reputation for government-supported debauchery.  I had also heard that it was one of the most uniquely beautiful cities in Europe.   So I went.

During those days we (me and five girls… no comments please) strolled along canals, spent time in Anne Frank’s home and Van Gogh’s museum, took a boat ride and a ton of pictures, ate stroopwaffles in Haarlem, and trekked to the Keukenhof Festival… home to such masculine focal points as tulips and windmills.  I know it sounds like I caved in a group vote or something, but the festival was actually pretty amazing.  Miles and miles of nothing but tulips (imagine driving through the middle of Ohio in the fall and all of the corn is colored bright red, blue, and yellow) and parks taken straight from a painting.

I don’t have much to say beyond the fact that it was a great way to spend the 5-day Easter weekend.  I have promised a few of you a detailed description of the unusual Czech Easter traditions… but you’ll have to wait a few more days.  Sorry about that.

In honor of Amsterdam, I recommend the following tunes:
Amsterdam – Coldplay
Roxanne (from All This Time) – Sting
Amsterdam – Griffin House

2006-04-18T17:14:00.000+02:00

Amsterdam.

2006-04-18T17:13:00.000+02:00

The group near the Van Gogh museum. From the left: Courtney, me, Kassidee, Marianne, Sarah, and Meredith.

2006-04-18T17:11:00.000+02:00

Supposedly you can see seven bridges from this spot. I only see five, but who am I to go against the tour guide...

2006-04-18T17:09:00.000+02:00

Night in Amsterdam. I'd give my left leg to have a houseboat on one of the canals. Ok, maybe thats a bit extreme. But they were pretty amazing.

2006-04-18T17:07:00.000+02:00

Amsterdam.

2006-04-18T17:06:00.000+02:00

Haarlem.

2006-04-18T17:05:00.000+02:00

The Keukenhof Festival in Lisse, Holland.

2006-04-18T17:03:00.000+02:00

I'm sorry to say that this is best picture I have of the tulip fields, but hopefully you get the idea.

A Few Relaxing Weekends

2006-04-11T22:49:00.000+02:00

I may have posted this picture at the beginning of last year... I'm too lazy to look right now... I am posting it now to draw your attention to Mt. Rip (Rzheep) in the distance. This hill is known in Czech mythology as the place where Grandfather Czech first looked over the land and claimed that it would one day be a great nation. I deeply regret not taking a picture of the sign on top of the hill that reads: Like Mecca is to Mohammed, Rip is to Czechs. Anyway, I made my first pseudo-hajj to the great hill last weekend, and certainly was not disappointed. I somehow feel that I have arrived.

2006-04-11T22:42:00.000+02:00

Me, Ben, Zach, and Stephen atop Rip on an amazing Saturday afternoon.

2006-04-11T22:41:00.000+02:00

The little church/rotunda atop Rip.

2006-04-11T22:39:00.000+02:00

You may remember that every year the entire town of Kralupy up and walks 14km to a festival amidst castle ruins. The event involves games for children, plenty of grilled sausage, and more under-age drinking than you would believe... but a great time nonetheless. The trip is called "Do Okore bez Ore" ... or... "To Okor without a horse." I made the trip with a handful of my sophomores. Pictured are: Bed'a, Me, Lenka, Alena, Petra, Zuzka, and Misa.

Maturita Exams

2006-03-26T20:45:00.000+02:00

Its funny how life tends to stay busy even after the things that keep you busy come to an end. Teachers all across the Czech Republic (American teachers included) are quite busy these days preparing for a series of exams in mid-May that strike fear into the hearts of all graduating seniors. I thought I might use this blog installment to tell you about the Maturita exams.

The Maturita exams have existed in the Czech Republic for decades easily, if not longer. These exams may even trace back to the great Czech educational reformer, Jan Amos Komensky. I’m too lazy to do the research on that one, so lets just say “a long time.” The Maturitas are certainly the most significant event in a student’s pre-university career. So much so, that most of my oldest adult students can still tell you what subjects were covered in their Maturita as well as the specific questions asked.

So here’s how it works. At the beginning of the year, all of the students in their final year of Gymnazium (like a high school, but limited to only those students who manage to do well on an exam at the age of 11 or 15) are given a list of the possible topics to be covered on the Maturita in 4 subjects. All students must test in Czech Language, one foreign language, and two other subjects of their own choosing. The majority of students test in English to fill their foreign language requirement, though German, French, Russian, and Spanish are also possibilities.

The topics on the English Maturita exam include:

USA: Geography, People, History, Nat. Economy, Gov. and Admin.
Great Britain: Geography, People, History, Nat. Economy, Gov. and Admin.
English Speaking Countries: Geography, People, History, Nat. Economy, Gov.
Czech Republic: Geography, People, History, Nat. Economy, Gov. and Admin.
Big British Cities
Big American Cities
Prague
My Town and its Surroundings
Educational Systems
British Literature
American Literature
Social World Problems
Me and My Family
A Life Story
Science and Technology
Health, Sickness, Disease
Sport and Games
Food and Meals
Housing, My Room
Holiday, Traveling
Culture and Entertainment
Shopping, Fashion, Clothes
My Daily Program and Hobbies
Festivals and Customs
Weather, Climate, Environmental Protection

As you can see, topics range from ridiculously broad, time-intensive topics such as “The USA” to obscure, narrow and overly-simple topics like “Housing and My Room.” In my opinion, the best topics on the list are “Social World Problems,” “Festivals and Customs,” and the handful of other topics that fall in the middle of the spectrum, and allow for a fair amount of flexibility in conversation.

The week of the exam, students arrive in groups of three or four at time specified a month or so in advance. One at a time, they choose a topic randomly from a hat, and are given 15 minutes to prepare on their own. At the end of that 15 minutes, the students sits before a panel of 2-5 teachers and presents the topic for 15 minutes. In the English exams, the presentation is inter-mixed with questions from the teachers regarding vocabulary, factual information, and oftentimes simple leading questions to help the student fill his or her 15 minutes. The last 2 or 3 minutes of the test are spent going over 20 grammar questions. Subjects like math require the student to solve complex problems and then defend their methods and answers.

45 minutes later, they do it again in a different subject... until all 4 subjects have been completed.

At the end of the day, the students again stand before their examiners, the school principal, their class teacher, and a national representative from the Ministry of Education and are given their scores. A “1” is the highest possible score. A “5” means that the student may not apply for university the following month, and must re-take the Maturita exam in September.

Needless to say, my colleagues and I have been quite busy reviewing, re-reviewing, and conducting practice Maturitas in recent weeks. This will certainly continue until the first week of May. The second week of May, students have no classes and are expected to study all week. The remarkable thing is, they really do it. Any extended break in American schools means trips to warmer places. Here, students stay home all week and actually study.

In the midst of all of this, I’ve also spent a great deal of time at Maturitni Plesi… they’re like Senior Proms but with parents, teachers, ballroom dancing, and lots of alcohol. You’ll find a few pictures below.

Anyhow, I hope you’ve enjoyed this lesson in Czech Education… and that you’re doing well in your respective corners of the world. Shoot me a note sometime.

…and for those of you who have shot me a note recently… I’ll reply soon, I promise.

2006-03-26T20:39:00.000+02:00

Stephen, Zach, Mike, and Zdenek at the most recent ples. Stephen is an ESI teacher in Pribram, Czech Republic. Zach is my roomie. Zdenek is the head English teacher at my school... he's the one who had the back operation last summer, and consequently missed 5 months of school.

2006-03-26T20:37:00.000+02:00

The 4.A class. The trucks in the middle are full of money that the students collect at the begninning of the ples. By "collect," I mean that people throw money at them when they process into the room. The money will be used to pay for a class party after the Maturita exam is over.

2006-03-26T19:56:00.000+02:00

Post-ples pub time. These are some of the students I've grown closest to over the last two years. You may recognize a few of them from other photos.

2006-03-26T19:54:00.000+02:00

Mike, Richard, and Jiri... These guys will both be graduating this year. Their ples was in the beginning of March.

2006-03-26T19:52:00.000+02:00

Joel, Mike and Aaron in Kutna Hora. You may remember Kutna Hora from a blog post last year. Feel free to hit the archive for that one... you should find it in February or March '05.

2006-03-26T19:46:00.000+02:00

The CA (Central Administrator) Team at a little train stop in Kutna Hora. ("Little" refers to both the stop and the train... just a one-car deal)

Snow.

2006-03-12T16:52:00.000+01:00

I've decided to write this post as a Haiku.
In my head, it sounds like a really funny idea.

So it snowed last night.
The snow goes up to my knees.
Makes my toes real cold.

But do not be fooled.
We are not pleased with this snow.
March should be sunny.

Yesterday was warm.
Eighteen inches of snow came.
Today is not warm.

So I'll sit and grade.
I should have done it sooner.
Procrastination.

2006-03-12T16:49:00.000+01:00

Zach and me outside our flat on March 12. The day before this picture was taken there was no snow. For real... none.

2006-03-12T16:46:00.000+01:00

Kralupy in the snow. My school is on the far right.

I should be grading right now...

2006-03-06T21:55:00.000+01:00

Hi.

No big news to report, I’m sorry to say. Zdenek, the head English teacher is back, so full-tilt teaching has finally come to an end. The big Super Bowl XL party went well, though I have to admit, all in attendance (myself included) found it to be a pretty boring game. Regardless, eight people showed up to watch the game, eat Oreos and Newman’s own Buttered Popcorn and laugh at this year’s most expensive advertisements. Special thanks go to Dan Miljanich for providing the best copy of the game on DVD.

On a completely different note, a few of you asked for more Berlin photos, specifically of the new Holocaust Memorial. Those are posted below.

Before I go, I’ll hit you with my current stimuli:

Reading
To a God Unknown by John Steinbeck
Listening
X&Y by Coldplay
Some Hearts by Carrie Underwood (no comments, please.)
The Koln Concert by Keith Jarrett
Watching
Dobrou noc a hodně štěstí (Good Night, and Good Luck)

2006-03-06T21:24:00.000+01:00

The Holocaust Memorial. 2700 cement blocks ranging in height from 1 foot to 10 feet. The idea was to make visitors feel claustrophobic and uncomfortable. Certainly one of the most striking memorials I've seen.

2006-03-06T21:18:00.000+01:00

From inside the memorial. Pretty remarkable.

2006-03-06T21:12:00.000+01:00

Another Brandenburg Gate photo. If this were a Campus Crusade marketing campaign, this picture would be followed with "This is Where I Live..." But it's not, so this isn't.

Deutsch Days and Sore Soles

2006-02-26T17:47:00.000+01:00

I’m sorry to report that spring break has come and gone… I guess you missed it. I certainly would have if nobody had told me. I guess the title of the holiday itself threw me off: “Spring” would imply something before the vernal equinox on March 21st. Apparently, something has been lost in translation because my calendar still says February. Rant finished.

So last Saturday morning I hopped a bus to Berlin. It’s a city with a fairly well-known history, so I won’t bore you with all of the details. However, I’d like to mention that seeing the Berlin Wall, the Reichstag, the Brandenburg Gate, the thousands of unmarked blocks commemorating those killed during the Holocaust, and stepping across the line that formerly separated East from West is a much more visceral experience than I expected. It’s a city that has been destroyed and re-built on so many levels… one is acutely aware of the stark contrasts within the city at all times.

Apart from the historically gut-wrenching sites previously listed, I’d have to put my “Favorite” stamp on the Pergamon Museum. This huge building houses some of the most amazing artifacts I’ve ever seen… most of them bigger than an average suburban house. Seriously. Walking up the steps of the Pergamon Altar from 3rd century B.C. Greece or stepping through the Ishtar Gate from 6th century B.C. Babylon is enough to put anyone in his/her place. I don’t know how to think about things that are that old and historically significant.

I returned from Berlin on Tuesday morning, having spent the night bus ride with my new Argentinian film-critic friend, Javier. After giving Javier the dime tour of Prague, I returned home for a bit of rest.

On Thursday afternoon, I joined my friends Petr, Tereza, and Boris in the northern Czech mountains. I’d equate Pec Pod Snezkou (pronounced PETZ – pode – SNEZH-ko) with the Appalachians that run through New York. Not bad at all for a weekend ski trip. The funny part of the story comes with our arrival at the pension Boris and Tereza had reserved for us. Situated about a mile above the city, getting ourselves and our skiis, and guitars and whatnot required a 40-minute uphill ice hike. Hilarious in retrospect.

Overall, it was a great week. I’m sore but happy. If only it would warm up a bit.

I dare you to send me an email.

2006-02-26T16:46:00.000+01:00

Mike and the Berliner Dom.

2006-02-26T16:45:00.000+01:00

Sitting at the Brandenburg Gate. Not too long ago, this was a restricted area.

2006-02-26T16:25:00.000+01:00

The bombed-out Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church at Zoo Garten. Rather than re-construct the church as it was, congregants opted to build a modern church on either side of the old one. This is a pretty good indication of the contast in Berlin.

2006-02-26T16:19:00.000+01:00

Me on the steps of the Pergamon Altar. In addition to the awe of the art itself, I found myself struck dumb by the work and ingenuity it took to transport all of it in the first place... and then squeeze it into a museum. Really unbelievable.

2006-02-26T16:10:00.000+01:00

Our own private penzion. Buried in about 3 feet of snow.

2006-02-26T16:05:00.000+01:00

Petr, Boris, Tereza, and Me atop Pec Pod Snezkou.

The Chronicles of Hubeny Stanislav

2006-02-12T23:30:00.000+01:00

I was recently asked to take part in a great project.

My cousin Kate was given as assignment by her first grade teacher to "create a paper figure shaped like a 12" gingerbread man, dressed in the native costume of a foreign culture or country." His name is "Flat Stanley." Like the wonderful cousin she is, Kate chose the Czech Republic... because her cousin Mike lives and works there. Pretty great cousin, I know. Kate and my Aunt Norma spent a good while researching and dressing Flat Stanley, sent their little friend to me via USPS, and asked that I give him a grand tour of his native land. Well obviously I accepted the challenge, but under one condition... we give the little guy an appropriate Czech name. From then on, he has been known as "Hubeny Stanislav"... or "Thin Stanley." I consulted a few books and friends on his first name, and learned that "flat" doesn't translate perfectly, and can actually be seen as a derrogatory term, so "thin" it is.

Our tour took us all across the city of Prague to many of the important historical sites. Stanislav was a bit more mischevious than I anticipated, as you will see in the photos. But in the end, all was ok, and I think my vertically-challenged friend learned a great deal. I'm sorry to say that his time here was limited; Stanislav will be flying out tomorrow morning. He regrets his sudden departure, but it seems he is needed more in Mrs. Tully's first grade class. I can't say I blame him. Below you'll find a few of the pictures I took of Hubeny Stanislav.

In other news: Spring Break starts Friday. More on that to come.

I hope its warmer where you are than it is in Central Europe.

2006-02-12T23:28:00.000+01:00

Stanislav and me outside of Prague castle. It was a chilly, rainy afternoon, but his traditional "kroj" outfit protected Stanislav from the harsh conditions.

2006-02-12T23:27:00.000+01:00

Stanislav posing alongside a guard at Prague Castle.

2006-02-12T23:23:00.000+01:00

All along the world-renowned Charles Bridge are street vendors offering art and photos of Prague. Apparently Standa (short for Stanislav) was mistaken as everyday art by a vendor while my back was turned.

2006-02-12T23:21:00.000+01:00

Its harder than you might think to get opera tickets for a 12" inanimate object, so Stanislav and I opted for culture outside of the theater. Pictured is a statue commemorating the premier of Mozart's Don Giovani.

Early Mornings, Sore Knees, Plenty to Remember

2006-02-06T21:36:00.000+01:00

Hi.

Had a big weekend, thought I'd tell you about it.

So last Thursday during my second lesson, I was informed that the following lesson would be cancelled due to a race from the cafeteria in the basement to the German room on the third floor. Oh, and that I was going to be a part of it. The race involved 12 of the classes at the school, 6 members on each team. The race involved all team members holding hands running as fast as they can up four flights of stairs... after climbing through a complex web of string, and memorizing 15 Czech words en route. I'm proud to report that the teachers succeeded in reaching the German room in 1 minute and 6 seconds, having memorized about 9 words. Unfortunately we didn't win. But we finished strong.

Thursday evening I headed into Prague to join my friends Joel, Chrissy and Courtney for a student ball (ples) at the beautiful Lucerna ballroom. We polka'd our eyes out, waltzed like never before, and even managed to not get trampled by the hordes of people packed onto the dance floor. It was a great night.

Friday morning, Joel and I rolled out of our respective beds at about 5:30am and again returned to the center of Prague. Our goal was to take pictures of some of the more beautiful, and normally tourist-packed spots in Prague... sans people. From 6 to about 7:30 they two of us amassed at least a hundred pictures. Below you'll find some of my favorites.

I returned to Kralupy around noonish and promptly went back to bed. The rest of my waking hours that day involved little more than eating pizza and reading John Steinbeck.

Saturday morning, I again rose from bed before 6, and prepared for a day of snowboarding with my roomie Zach and three students. We drove 2 1/2 hours north (5 of the most terrifying hours of driving in my life... Czechs aren't known for their defensive driving skills) to Spindleruv Mlyn in the heart of the Krkonose mountains. If you're familiar with New York skiing, think Holiday Valley, only a bit taller and with fewer chair lifts. This being only my second time on a snowboard, I found myself facedown in the snow more times than I care to admit. But it was really fun nonetheless.

Sunday, I headed into Prague one more time, this time for some alone time at one of my favorite coffee shops and a screening of Munich. I was fast asleep by about 9:30 Sunday night.

So there. I hope you enjoy a few of my pictures...

2006-02-06T21:15:00.000+01:00

Me and Joel. We were both quite chilly when this picture was taken.

2006-02-06T21:13:00.000+01:00

Charles Bridge circa 6am.

2006-02-06T21:10:00.000+01:00

Old Town Square.

2006-02-06T21:05:00.002+01:00

Charles Bridge at dawn.

2006-02-06T21:05:00.001+01:00

Tyn Church and the Astronomical Clock.

2006-02-06T21:02:00.000+01:00

The ples group. From the left: Joel, Chrissy, Courtney, Me.

2006-02-06T21:00:00.001+01:00

This picture does a good job of demonstrating what a ples feels like. Now imagine you're in the middle of all of that, trying to remember how to do the polka.

2006-02-06T20:58:00.000+01:00

Every hour a group of professional dancers, or students, or occasionally teachers will do a choreographed dance routine. I don't know which was the case here, but I thought it was a cool picture.

2006-02-06T20:57:00.000+01:00

Mid-Day Race: Our fearless leader, Michal Mara, pushing ahead. You can kinda see me just coming through the door... sorry I don't have any better than this.

A Favor Por Favor

2006-02-02T07:38:00.000+01:00

As you are hopefully aware, this coming weekend millions of Americans will partake in the time honored tradition of gorging themselves with food Dr. Atkins would scoff at, adorning themselves in bright colors and silly hats, and enthusiastically supporting a team they may or may not have ever supported in the past. Bring on the SuperBowl.

Here's where you come in.

If any of you, or anyone you know have the capability of recording said championship to a DVD, I would be willing to pay you (in US Dollars, Euros, or Czech Crowns) for any time, materials or heartache involved. The thing is, it really must be a DVD. My former roomie, Jason, and I received two copies of the SuperBowl on VHS last year, but found, much to our dismay, that our VCR will not play Extended-Play VHS tapes (necessary for a four-hour event such as this.)

My plan is to host a SuperBowl party for my Czech students, complete with chips and salsa, popcorn, and general rowdiness. We have a video projector and screen at our disposal, as well as dozens of students who love sports but know nothing of this strange American pasttime.

So, again, if you or anyone you know are able to record the SuperBowl (preferably with commercials and halftime show) then please send me an email at harveyme@gmail.com as soon as possible. Thanks for your time.

Jack Frost Nipping at My Čenich

2006-01-29T22:21:00.000+01:00

Hey!

It’s been a while since my last post, so I thought I’d treat you to a few photos, even if I’m not able to supply you with your regular dose of wit, philosophy, and culture in the form of a big, long blog update.

Plesi (student formal dances), semester-end rituals, hand and feet warming, and winter weekend trips are in full swing, leaving me with little time internet correspondence.

For those of you on my mass-mailing list, fret not… I’ve penciled you in for later this week, so keep an eye on your emailbox.

I like you guys a lot.
Mike

2006-01-29T22:11:00.000+01:00

Winter in Kralupy. The big building in the middle is my home/place of employment, Gymnazium Dvorakovo. When you send care packages, this is where they are received.

2006-01-29T22:06:00.000+01:00

Stoic Mike and Kevin. Kevin is a great friend currently working with YoungLife in Ostrava, Czech Republic as well as teaching a few English lessons along the way. Bonus points if you can identify the owner of the arm in the foreground.

2006-01-29T22:02:00.000+01:00

The city of Ostrava at sunset.

2006-01-29T22:01:00.000+01:00

Aaron, Aram and me. On a train to West Bohemia last weekend. Aaron is currently the country director in the Czech Republic, and Aram is a Canadian friend visiting for a few weeks. Tomorrow (Monday) he'll be speaking to three of my classes about the mysteries and complexities of Canada. For the record, Aaron and Aram aren't normally as affectionate as they appear to be in this photo.

2006-01-29T21:57:00.000+01:00

Apart from the mad waltzing and various other hijinks that inevitably come with a ples (student ball), it is a great place to spend time with students old and young. Pictured are me, Magda (graduated student from last year) and Martin (current Senior).