Czeched Out

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 ...

Give me freedom...or not.

My palms were sweating. I felt myself getting hot and uncomfortable. I actually felt short of breath. What was the answer? There were about a dozen pairs of eyes on me. The room had quieted down to a whisper and everyone--American, Turkish, Danish and Kurdish--waited for my answer to the quesiton on the floor. Well, it wasn't exactly on the floor. It was for me. I, somehow, had been designated as the resident expert in these matters and the most earnest question a most earnest fellow had been posed. Dear God. I...I couldn't come up with answer. Usually, I'm pretty fast on my feet, but not this evening. What, indeed?

What is the difference between Democrats and Republicans?

This is my city. You just visit here.

Sara recently (about 20 minutes ago, actually; the catalyst for this post) said that more people have been speaking Czech to her recently. When we first move to Prague, people generally assumed that we are Americans--or at least non-Czech speaking--and just launched into English when we entered a bar or store or whatever. Alternately, we were ignored and relied on mutual pantomiming for communication.

She mentioned that now, Czechs seem to labor under the impression (reasonable, I suppose) that we should know Czech. I thought on this, and thought that while once, store owners and tour operators would harass me to buy or sign up, now they leave me alone--pointedly, I might add.

I mused that after a while, people start to look like they belong in their adopted city. Time passes, and as a person's surroundings become familiar, they carry themselves with an air of belonging. Other locals sort of get this and treat them as a local. Think about it. You know a visitor when you see one, but most people are local, and you probably pay them no attention. If someone who looks more or less like they belong opens their mouth and a different language comes out, you're surprised.

Does this mean Sara and I are now locals? Are we...home?

Budapest

You have to understand that Prague is basically a medeival city. The core of Prague--the castle district, the little quarter, old town and new town--were built and rebuilt primarily between the 12th and 17th centuries. New town, of course continued development after that, but at its essence, Prague is a city of legends. Of old stories nestled into the cobblestone, and of a stately people who continue a constant search for contentment.

Stepping off the train in Budapest takes some adjusting, like stepping out of a movie theatre into the mid-day sun. Most evenings the town is alight in neon and fashionable clothes, young Hungarians out drinking the city in. Music pours from clubs and lounges, and if that isn't enough a truck filled with gypsy musicians tours the streets, playing roaring songs from the countryside. Traffic is heavy down the main drags, but most people prefer the tram and subway system, as evidenced by the crush of humanity that emerges from each tram car when they stop.

Pop Quiz

Okay, you're at a bar in Krakow, Poland and you have to use the toilet. The bartender shows you a hallway, down which there are two doors, marked presumably for the men's and ladies' rooms. The first symbol is an upside-down triangle and the second is a circle. Which is which?

On the home front

Just a quick update to say that we are back on Czech soil. No passport control issues, no luggage issues, no Turkish Airlines Customer Service Guy. A pleasant ride home. Stay tuned for posts on Istanbul - a magnificent city full of wonderful people!

-- Sara

An Open Letter to the Customer Service Guy from Turkish Airlines

Dear Customer Service Guy from Turkish Airlines,

I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize for my wife's and my behavior on 31 March, the night we flew into Istanbul and caused so much trouble. Please understand that we are Americans, and as such catastrophe tends to follow us abroad. We recognize this and under stand that we really should just stay within the borders of our own country, as well as Canada (excluding Quebec) and a few select towns and resorts in Mexico, the Carribean, and Iraq.

Be that as it may, we did venture on to Turkish soil and for that we are sorry. We would like to apologize for this and thank you for your professionalism in handling the events that ensued.

The One About SERVAS

"Let's walk tdru dees sheeet."

We had just turned the corner from the main North-South boulevard in Budapest on to some street I never would have found if left to my own devices. In Budapest for roughly two hours, we've spent most of that time just looking for this guy who's now leading us through a magical city neither of us have been to before.

We turn down the new street and it's another wide boulevard with enormous sidewalks stuffed with tables and chairs and torches filled with fashionable Hungarians enjoying drinks in the warm spring air. "Dees eesn't my style;" our guide begins, "too much wit dee posing. But I wanted to show you..." Always wanting to show us. Always guiding and showing and teaching and displaying hospitality found only in Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood. This is the Budapest as only a local knows. This is SERVAS.