Czeched Out

Back in the U.S.S.A.

Three flights and 23 hours later, we touch down at the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport. The weather is warm and beautiful and the air is thick with uncertainty. A short exchange with a Canadian standing in line at Chicago's security checkpoint sums up the "how we're doing" question.

Both she and I had forgotten to take our laptops from our bags and were waiting as the inspectors inspected away. I commented to her that I'd already been in three airports that day, and that I'd forgotten that the U.S. ones require special laptop attention. She chuckled and asked, "So, where are you coming from?"

"Prague, and you?"

"Ottawa. Oh, that's wonderful. Prague is such a beautiful city; were you living there?"

"Ummm, yea, actually since January."

Then a small look of concern settled on her face as she lowered her tone to ask, "How's reentry going?"

Book of the day

This morning, I finished the book Remember Me. It is a strange and captivating story about a woman´s life torn asunder by a robbery, or rather more than one. It is sad and beautiful, and made me think of a couple of dear friends when reading it. Of course, I first thought of my friend out in Seattle who gave me the book. Thank you! Shortly after, my thoughts turned to a good friend in Minneapolis with whom I´ve shared many chats about the tragedy of the bag lady and forgotten elders.

This was one of the first novels I´d read that fictionalized the homeless woman without trivializing her experience. If you think about it, how often do you run across stories about people who´ve experienced tragedy, but that the story focused on the actual people and not the scandal? Though sad and heart wrenching, it is a story that I would have to recommend.

--Sara

If You Can Read This, You're Not From Kansas

Hi. I'm about to say many political things. I put them after the flip, so as not to offend anyone. I think, by and large, we've done an okay job at this site of not talking about overtly political things when it didn't apply directly to travel or to our experiences here in Europe.

Look, we've made lots of European friends, for whom dicussing politics is sort of like talking about the weather: it's something that affects everyone so it's the basis of most conversations. And so as a result, politics affects our experience and therefore, makes it in to this blog. It's part of the deal.

Anyway, I'm boning up on my American political goings-on and so that's what's to come after the flip. FYI...

UPDATE: I added a couple of links to interesting stuff below.

This is a only drill

It sounds like an American police car has just parked itself in the American Embassy's Information Services Center. As the police sirens blare, a canned voice on the intercom requests, "Please evacuate the embassy. A fire has broken out in Generator 2."

I look over to the librarian for a cue as to where to go....

Important Thoughts...

Like, do I want to make the "minted asparagus frittata" or the "peas and potatoes masala" for dinner tonight? Deep thought, that.

And, if I've been corresponding with you, you know this but I cannot wait for decent red meat again. You know, I love cows and they're great and all, but after enduring Eastern European beef I'm ready for factory-farming again. Yep, you heard it here first, people. I renounce my liberal credentials on organic food and embrace corn-fed, hormone-injected cows because I need a burger in the worst way.

Oh, important thoughts? Hmmmm...I'll have to think of some. More later.

--Chris

UPDATE! After the flip...

Too many cappuccinos

A white-haired tourist hides in the doorway to my jazz club with "free Internet" to avoid a bit of the rain. An orange Fodor's Prague hangs limply from her right as she searches for a break in the clouds. Now the sun lightens the street a bit, and off she goes.

Sitting here updating web sites and writing cover letters isn't so bad. Sure, there are obnoxious days, but it's not too bad. I get to constantly tout how great I am. Could be worse. I mean, I could have to sit in interviews feeling nervous and anxious. Instead, I lounge in this cafe drinking cappuccinos, listing to soft rock from the mid-eighties...

Always Time for a Story

Right now, I really should be looking for a job, and I am, but the market is tighter than a snare drum right now and so job searches tend not to take very long. So I'm taking a break because I was recently reminded of a funny story I heard in Istanbul, and I thought I'd share it.

I'm not sure what sparked the memory, but whatever. It beats looking at job postings.

Resist

So May 5th marks the 60th anniversary of the Prague uprising against the Nazis. Same as the general Warsaw uprising, as well as the Warsaw ghetto uprising. The Czechs rose up against the Soviets in '56, as did the Hungarians. The Poles had an uprising about every ten years against their Soviet occupiers. This year marks 37 years after the "Prague Spring" of '68 where thousands of Czechs poured into the streets and demanded a relaxation of Soviet control. It's 15 years since the first free elections after the Iron curtain fell, which took place in Poland (yes, before Germany.)

Poland, Czechoslovakia and Hungary are no slouches when it comes to organizing against oppressive regimes, and it should be noted that it was the fearlessness of local organizers that finally brought down the "evil empire". Saluting Reagan for "defeating the Soviet Union" is sort of like saluting Tom Hanks for saving Private Ryan. The role of a competent political leader was Reagan's least convincing part, perhaps because it involved John Poindexter in the role of the chimp. In any case, this isn't about politics, it's about remembering.

No Fighting in the War Room

I received an email recently from a writer who's doing a story on people like us who've split the U.S. for parts abroad. The focus of her piece is that the US is in danger of losing its talent because most of the talented people aren't thrilled with the recent right turn America has taken. It's a good premise, and one not without precedent. Creative people have been fleeing the US since before there was a US to flee. Hell, the first expatriate to go looking for more enlightened pastures was Ben Franklin, in the mid-eighteenth century. Jefferson followed, and it was all downhill from there.

From Washington Irving to Quincy Jones, sharp Americans have always left home in search of appreciation, fellow intellectual travelers, and a decent cup of espresso. I suppose we're no different, not only in that we left, but in that we're returning. At some point most of these folks came back, either when they wanted to earn a better living, or when they decided to tell Americans just how screwed up they were, or when conditions changed. We'll be back in a couple of weeks, and while our reasons are good ones, I can't help but feel very anxious about coming back to America. I can't help but think, having read some of these people's work that we're all sort of in the same boat. Once you leave, you can never truly return.

Prague Spring

The weather here just keeps shifting around on us, and we realized we were woefully unprepared for something... warmth. Moving out here in the middle of January, it didn't occur to us that one day it might actually be summer. Or, as Chris put it, "I didn't know Prague ever warmed up." Within two days, we exhausted all of our lightweight clothing. We each brought maybe two t-shirts, as compared to the five sweaters in each of our drawers.

Now, you may be asking yourself, "How is it that my two job-hunting heroes found the time to notice the weather? I thought they were dedicated to the pursuit of gainful employment." While the former was true a couple weeks ago, thankfully a dear friend from Minneapolis came here to save us from ourselves for a few days. And, I was not joking, when I confided that...

Brother, can you spare a job?

The job description says:

• 5-7 years experience -- Got it.
• Project management required -- That, too.
• Industry experience a plus -- In spades.
• Writing and editing needed -- Check.
• Great personality! -- Are you kidding?

So the resume was dusted off and a cover letter drafted: "I'm great, this is why, you're great, too, blah, blah," and the whole deal emailed off.

That was two weeks ago....

Page 31

That's when my brain turned to mush, but page 50 is when I finally put it
down. No, I'm not talking about some dense 13th century translation of an
ancient Sumerian text, not even the Gore Vidal book I'm reading. No, what
transformed my perfectly healthy gray matter into a wobbly pile of smurf
Jell-O was People magazine, April 4, 2005 edition.

What was it on page 31 that turned the tide, sunk the ship and ...