Josefov

On the bitterly cold Thanksgiving day that began with my first visit to the Charles Bridge and ended with an unexpected turkey dinner, I also made a much too short visit to the Josefov, the old Jewish quarter of Prague. Naturally enough it was both fascinating and tragic. The Josefov is named after the revolutionary emperor Joseph II, the quintessential enlighened despot of European history. He ruled at the end of the 18th century and was essentially a century of more ahead of his time, which meant that most of his reforms unfortunately did not work as well as he had envisioned simply because he was so far ahead of his time. The famous story is that his grave includes the words "Here lies Joseph II, who, with the best of intentions, failed in everything he undertook" - the words were chosen by him. One of the sadder aspects of his "failed" reforms was his remarkably elightened treatment of the Jews. His policies were so favorable that many Jews poured into this part of the world, which would obviously have tragic consequences during World War II. Of the 40,000 Jews who lived in the tiny section of the Josefov I think only around a thousand survived to the end of the war. There actually aren't many Jews left in the Josefov itself now - and the area is mainly dominated by dozens of very posh shops. Because of time constraints (I had meetings scheduled with two universities) I did not go through the New-Old Synagogue, which is supposed to be very worthwhile - nor did I make it over to what is called the Spanish Synagogue (called that because of its "Moorish" architecture). The Jewish cemetary was pretty amazing - and obviously sobering - and it is dominated by thousands and thousands of tombstones jutting out at odd angles; there was only so much space inside the walls. Rabbi Loews, the person who is believed to have come up with golem legend is buried there - and every crack and crevice of his tombstone is full of slips of paper - wishes and pleas from believers. Outside the cemetary - with the stalls actually sharing a wall with the cemetary above it - are a series of touristy stalls. I picked up small golems for my friends Bob and Steve, and wish I would have purchased one for myself as well. I was going to pick one up for my good friend Sarah as well, but since she is great with child I figured that she might find it a big spooky (and, actually, when I gave her her gift [she's the only one of my friends who always gets a gift from overseas, since she's the person who "created" this blog in the first place] and explained my rationale for not getting her a golem she practically shuddered at the thought). Oddly, just as Greek tragedy and comedy came together to form a balanced view of life for the ancient Greeks, the visit to the Josefov produced a sobering balance to a pretty glorious Thanksgiving in Prague.

Stramberske Usi

On my last day in Prague, when I should have been packing, I went for one final walk around downtown to soak up the Christmas charm. Like most folks, I suppose, I will do anything to postpone unpleasantness, which is probably why I'm blogging now instead of finalizing my grades. Anyway, while walking through an outdoor market I stumbled across Stramberske Usi (Stramberk's ears), which are a traditional Czech delicacy. Stramberk is a town in north Moravia and the story (at least one of the stories) is that they were being beseiged by the Tartars in 1241. The Tartars, as was their wont, were chopping off the ears of the villagers to prove to their khan how many prisoners they had captured. The people hunkered down and prayed to God for assistance - and the combination of a terrible storm and the villagers breaching the dam - washed away the Tartars (again, there are other versions of the story, but I like this one). All that remained was a bag of ears. To commemerate their deliverance the Czechs still bake Stramberske Usi. They are something like ginger biscuits with honey and spice - and do sort of look like rolled up ears. The conical shape would allow for them to be stuffed with whipped cream and other goodies, which I guess is quite common. They were a popular gift for several of my friends, and actually made it back to the States unbroken.

More Trdelnik - and a backstory

Here's a picture from my last day in Prague, when I should have been packing but instead headed back down to the Old Town Square to soak up more of the holiday cheer - and eat more Trdelnik. This version was also quite good (different location than last time) but I learned a valuable lesson - insist on the Trdelnik that they are taking right off of the flame, as compared to the ones that have cooled. They're both good, but the warm ones (like any freshly baked goody, I suppose) are over the top delicious. I'm also including a picture that tells the story - or, I suspect, one of the stories - of the Trdelnik.

Chram Svateho Vita

The one full day on the entire trip that I was not travelling or giving presentations or embroiled in meetings - and thus able to devote myself to shameless sight-seeing - was the Friday after Thanksgiving. So I spent the day running all over the Prague Castle and the Mala Strana. One of the highlights was definititely visiting St. Vitus's Cathedral (Chram Svateho Vita). Even if I've been somewhat spoiled by Notre Dame and the cathedral in Toledo, Spain - it was still an awe-inspiring cathedral. Some highlights wer the sarcophagus of St. John of Nepomak (the one who was chained and tossed off the Karluva Most - and whose statue is the good luck charm on the bridge). Accroding to legend - and those determined Catholics will make up anyting to win an area back from the troublesome Protestants - at one point when his body was exhumed his tongue was found intact and pumping with blood. The tongue still has its own reliquary. The Valdstejnska Kaple (Wallenstein Chapel) is impressive. Not surprisingly, the Savatovaclavska Kaple (Chapel of St. Wenceslas - the good king of Christmas carol fame) is splendid. I guess his evil brother Boreslav (sort of like Boremir in Tolkien, I guess) owed it to Wedceslas to bury him here after killing him (he was initially buried in a church at Stara Boleslav - near where Boreslav killed him - but too many miracles associated with his remains pressured Boreslav into moving his brother's body to St. Vitus.

Thanksgiving in Prague

Even though this last trip has been pretty uniformly amazing (and, typically, I was in no mood to go and was almost dreading it), I think the most memorable experience was spending time - and getting an unexpected Thanksgiving dinner - with some amazing folks in Prague. I was visiting the Anglo-American University (more on that later) and talking to the director of international programming, Milada, when I mentioned that one of my goals for the day, it being Thanksgiving, was to find a place to grab a turkey dinner. I told her that last year in St. Petersburg my Russian friends told me that Russians just didn't do turkey. Now, what I should have thought of at the time but didn't until this trip, was that the logic approach would have been to figure out where the most popular expat bars/restaurants are and go there - figuring that they would produce a turkey dinner for their American expats. When I proposed this idea to Milada she grabbed a passing professor, who turned out to be American, and asked him where the best expat American bars are - and thus I was introduced to Ted Turneu, a truly extraordinarily nice guy. He's an American and he and his family have lived in Prague for years. He informed me that there were a couple great choices, but they had both recently closed - and then he invited me to come to his house for Thanksgiving. To say that I was floored is an understatement. I told him that he was entirely too kind and that I was trying to connive my way into a Thanksgiving meal - he laughed and told me that it was an annual tradition at his house and that I'd be joined by forty other people (it turned out to be fifty). Since he was rushing off to class he wrote directions to his house on a small sheet of paper and handed it to me. I didn't know if I would end up going because I still have business to take care of with Milada, and then make it on to the University of Economics Prague - let alone figure out the directions on his slip of papers (which included a couple trips on the Metro and then a tram ride and then a walk). Nevertheless, I decided to give it a whirl and I'm so glad I did. At the house I had a chance to talk to Ted's wife Carolyn, the founder of the feast, and their daughters Claire and Ruth. And about fifty other people. Some of them were Americans, but most were international students and faculty who wanted to see what all of this famous Ameircan gluttony is about. Apparently it's an annual tradition at his place that just keeps going. Carolyn said that the first few years they actually tracked down a frozen turkey, which turned out horribly. But then they discovered some woman who lived outside Prague who actually grows turkeys. This year's turkey was over 23 pounds and there was some initial concern that the bird was simply too big for the smallerish Czech oven and that they might have to try and partially cave in the bird's chest cavity. Luckily, everything fit, and the bird was delicious, and I thoroughly enjoined Carolyn's special family recipe of "drunken onions." Oh, and one of the American students whipped up a strawberry shortcake, one of a number of wonderful desserts. I will never forget this Thanksgiving. For a lonely soul, far away from home, it was truly something to be thankful for.

Finding the Castle

Now, you wouldn't think that finding a castle would be very hard to do, would you? Well, that's where you haven't figured in my astonishing incompetent sense of directions (although I know people who have a worse one, and you know who you are). The problem with finding the Prague Castle was simply that the streets in Prague are wonderfully narrow and winding, so it's easy to lose sight of things. I could clearly see the castle as I crossed the Charles Bridge, but once I passed into the Mala Strana (Lesser Quarter) I would lose sight of it. The Czechs are not big on signage, although better than the Hungarians. After a couple dead-ends I was getting frustrated (and feeling immensely foolish) - this also related to the fact that I had passed the mythic week barrier in my trips when I'm at my worst (usually about a week or a week and a half into my trips I get really annoyed for a day - and then it passes - just mainly momentary trip exhaustion), so I knew the signs and sat down, enjoyed a cafe latte and revisited my map. Aaahhhhh, there it is. Just follow the winding narrow street - ask Winston Churchill - and there are the stairs. Oh, and when you get to the top the St. Vitus Church (which is ungodly huge) is still hidden behind the Kralovsky Palac (the home for kings and presidents then and now) - you can see the spires peeking over the top. Head left and pass through a narrow, essentially unmarked passageway into a courtyard and there you are. Easy.

Demonstration

OK, it's my last day in Prague and I'm running around trying to grab some breakfast, finish packing and hopefully slide out for a little last minute shopping. That said, I thought I might try and post a couple pictures/observations, mainly because I still have so many things I want to post and once I get back to my quotidian life, which is surprisingly busy, I know I'll have no chance to do anything for a while. I ended up taking another 170 pictures yesterday - so many, many things to discuss. However, and quickly, I thought I'd post one of the last things I saw in Prague yesterday - a demonstration which kept winding its way around downtown. There were about fifty hearty souls in a pretty agitated souls who circled around the cobblestone streets chanting into a megaphone. I'm not certain, completely, what the demo was about, but I suspect it was against fur. They were certainly passionate about the topic, as you can see from the two women who led the march, clothed only in body paint. I think I've seen more demonstrations and rallies on my short visits to Europe than I have in decades living in the U.S., which, I think, says something very good about the Europeans and very bad about us.

Views of Prague from On High

Whenever I visit an international city I invariably climb up to the highest point to check out the scenery, even if it costs a little more it is always worth it. In this case I paid the fee to climb to the top of the clock tower (the one with the famous astronomical clock - again, more on that later). Now, before going on I should point out that the trip to the top was supposed to be free - at least according to the utterly worthless Prague Welcome Card. Take my advice, if you come to Prague - and you should definitely visit Prague - don't bother with the Prague Welcome Card. It is somewhere between useless and an outright scam. I suppose if you stayed long enough and visited every conceivable destination, and rode the excellent metro system a lot, you might come close to having it pay for itself. I never pay for these things, but I did this time and I've really regretted it. One of the problems is that several of the most popular destinations - the ones that are supposed to be free in the booklet - have little stamps on the back which state that they are no longer free. And this relates to some of the most popular activities, such as climbing to the top of the clock tower or visiting the St. Vitus church - or visiting the Municipal House or the Clementinum (thank god I can still visit the Museum of the Police Force for free). OK, now that that rant is out of the way, do definitely climb the 172 steps to the top of the clock tower - it is well worth it and the views are spectacular (even if it was a cold adventure yesterday morning).

Return to Prague: Check

I guess that most places have some sort of legend relating to something that you're supposed to do to guarantee a return visit. For instance, in Florence you're supposed to rub the boar's snout (previous posting), and you can rest assured I gave it a thorough polishing. In Cairo it's believed that you're supposed to drink the water of the Nile; however, although I loved Cairo (even factoring in my passport going missing) I avoided that temptation. In Prague the legend relates to the Karluv Most (Charles Bridge) naturally enough. You're supposed to go to the eighth statue on the right, which is of St. John of Nepomuk (who, at least according to legend, was wrapped in chains and tossed off the bridge), and touch the statue. There are two spots that have been worn clean by visitors rubbing them. Some versions of the story say it only brings luck, although returning to Prague would constitute good luck (especially for me, because I've really fallen in love with the place). Either way, I did my due diligence.

Karluv Most

I had two afternoon meetings with Czech universities in the afternoon so I had to get an early start if I wanted to get any sight-seeing in today. So, wrapped up as warmly as I could manage (although I managed to leave my gloves in Vermont, so my fingers were a little stiff while I was snapping the hundred plus shots I took today - most in the early morn) I took off to see the city. I as all over the place this morning, but the place that impressed me the most was the Karluv Most (Charles Bridge). Now, I have a thing for bridges anyway (which helps to explain my now infamous climb to the top of the Suspension Bridge in Cincinnati when I was in college so that I could get a better view of the WEBN fireworks) but even considering that fact I was deeply moved by the Karluv Most. It's easy to find - from the center of the Old Town you just follow the winding, cobblestone Karlova street, until you suddenly come around a corner at the first gate rises before you. The bridge was initial built in the early 1300's, and the statues of the saints on the bridge were added as part of the Counter-Reformation attempt to bring Catholicism back to Prague in full force during the 1600's. The guidebook said to get to the bridge either as the sun is going up or going down because it is at its most special - although, to be fair, I think that's probably true of most things. However, I'm glad I got an early start - and braved the biting cold - because it was beautiful, and the angle of the sun certainly added a lot to it. From the bridge you can the awe-inspiring Prague Castle on the hillside (and, obviously, it reminded me of Castle Hill in Budapest - and I'll be starting my sight-seeing tomorrow at the Castle). To top it off the moon had not set, and I did manage to get it in one of the close-ups. I'll have at least one more posting of the bridge. I'd love to post dozens of pictures, but I'm already suffering through very slow wifi here at the hotel and I'm sure it will take a better part of an hour to download these pictures. Can't wait to pass through there again tomorrow on the way to the castle. By all means, definitely come to Prague - and most definitely check out the Charles Bridge.