My student visa arrived less than twenty four hours before my flight was set to leave Denver International Airport. Hope was all but lost, as the weeks running up to my departure were spent frantically scrambling to acquire the golden ticket. A ticket that came not with a tour of a chocolate factory, but one that would rather allow me to live and study in Prague, Czech Republic, a much sweeter prize. I decided to do minimal research on the country I aspired to live in, worried I may never receive the chance, instead opting for a route that has since shaped everyday of my journey abroad.
Surprise!
The visa came, and less than a day later I boarded a flight destined for the heart of Europe. Thus far, it has been one big surprise party, and the lights haven’t stopped flickering since I landed.
I arrived in Prague on January 27th, following a voyage that spanned four cities and one full calendar day, and realizing a dream that had been in place since the day I first stepped foot on my college campus. Exhausted, I was ready to take on the world, or at least Central Europe, though an extended nap was in order before all else.
I live in an apartment building titled Zborovska 14. While this name may sound harsh to unfamiliar American ears, it has become not just an address, or a residence, but a home. The apartment consists of one large main room, the kitchen/living room combo, a bedroom for two, and a bathroom.
My first surprise of the trip took place in the bathroom, which came equipped with all the standard features: The bathtub/shower, the sink and mirror, of course the toilet, and, well, something else. A smaller toilet, albeit without a lid, and rigged with a faucet, stood beside its fellow receptacle. My first encounter with the bidet was my very own personal welcome-to-Europe moment, as if to say, “we do things a little differently here.” Though I must emphasize, differently does not necessarily equate to worse, and certainly not in this case.
Miscommunications began immediately. Revived by my nap, I set out with my Czech buddy Jan to peruse the food court at the top of Nový Smíchov, a large mall near my building. Not quite ready to discard my American habits, I found myself waiting in line at KFC. When it came time to order, I signaled at the two-piece meal, thrusting my hand, formed into the shape of a peace sign, towards the counter. Virtually the entire interaction was lost in translation. I signed the bill when it was presented, still unfamiliar with the local currency, oblivious to the meaning of the number presented before me. As the tray made its way over the counter, it prompted a realization that, maybe, just maybe, life abroad wouldn’t be quite as simple as I’d hoped. My wild gesturing had resulted in an order of two separate two-piece meals. I was handed four pieces of chicken, two packets of fries, and two separate cups for soda. Unfortunately, an enigmatic set of hand motions had mysteriously doubled the amount of fried chicken suddenly present in my life. I turned to meet Jan, tray laden with fried chicken, feeling more American than ever before.
Luckily, this feeling was quick to disperse. Much has surprised me, but personally, the greatest surprise thus far, is how much Praha already feels like home. I appreciate each and every building, and am constantly in awe of the array of colors and statues that accompany the varied styles of architecture. I stroll down the cobblestone with a Czech-esque gait, constantly reveling in the city surroundings. The people of Prague may keep to themselves, but they are quick to lend a helping hand when needed. Though I had plenty of prior warning, I’m still amazed at the low price, as well as the high quality, of the Czech beer. I am constantly astonished by the behavior of the dogs in the city. They are more abundant, and more obedient, it seems, than most children. I’m still in shock that a language and society can function with such a disdain for vowels, though everyday I attempt to increase my Czech lexicon. I still get a jolt of excitement when I navigate my way through the city, master of the tram and the metro lines.
I’ve talked to quite a few people who said that one day they came to Praha, and simply never left. Originally, this sentiment confused me. I wondered how one could decide, just like that, poof, this is my home from now on. Now, less than a month in, I’m starting to see just how possible that really is, and boy is it surprising.
Here's what some of my fellow American classmates think of life in the city:
Amber Torres:
It seems as though every one has a pet in the Czech Republic. I always see various kinds of people walking with a dog (or multiple dogs) scuffling behind them. The breeds are like none I have ever seen in America, and I have not seen the same breed twice. I am surprised that any culture appreciates dogs more than Americans.
Last week I saw a particularly interesting pet with his owner. Everyday, after class I transfer between trams near Karlovo Námesti. I walk through the same plaza, passed the same statue, and among hundreds of commuters. New York city culture trains the average pedestrian to make minimal eye contact with strangers and walk swiftly to your destination. Exceptionally, I will fumble into someone and look up to say, “prominte”, but after the exchange I immediately resume my anti-social behavior.
One particular day I was mindlessly walking through the plaza when I saw an old man strolling with a large black rope in his hands. My eyes naturally followed the line and at the end of the rope there was a Mountain Lion! A mountain lion on a leash! The atmosphere of the plaza did not change, I heard no surprised murmurs, I sensed no abrupt movements. To my surprise, commuters continued walking, unfazed by the wild cat prowling through the city’s center.
What surprised me most was my reaction to the Mountain Lion’s presence. I understood that what I saw was unconventional, and that Mountain Lions are natural hunters, so I expected myself to feel unsafe and scared –but I did not. I trusted the nonchalance of those surrounding me. I was comforted by the trust expressed by the mountain lions owner. I even got close enough to record a video.
This incident triggered many cultural epiphanies and even some questions. How long has he had that pet? How often does he walk the lion around that plaza? Was this legal?
Well, I have not seen him again, but I will always remember that day. It is one of the three weirdest things I have every seen on public transportation. After all I am a New York City commuter, so I can add this to my collection of strange experiences.
Criselys Polanco:
“Now, this is a story all about how my life got flipped-turned upside down. And I’d like to take a minute, just sit right there. I’ll tell you how I became the Czech queen of this app called Tinderrrr”
In a foreign country with no Netflix or Pandora, one can solely expect there not to be Tinder, but behold Tinder is as popular in the Czech Republic as it is the boroughs of the city that claims to never sleep. Overwhelmingly swiping left and right, I quickly learned that men in the Czech republic are much less selective than New York locals. I mean, matches on matches. Not only was it surprising to see that there were an extensive amount of young Czech men waiting to online date, but also men who are visiting the city. Maneuvering my way through an extensive list of matches, I soon realized that the men in Prague had different intentions. Each conversation consisted of interests, hobbies, and goals. Contrary to popular belief, young men in America are not only uninterested in pursuing romantic relationships but also actively demean all social network relationships. Some men introduce themselves with vulgar statements; others go into explicit details, all of which suggest anything other than the possibility of creating a meaningful relationship with someone. The function of this online dating app serves two different purposes to two different societies. Although beneficial to both, it seems as if men in the Czech society hold tinder at a different standard than young men in America. Consequently, the romantic nature also is held at a similar standard as I see numerous couples explicitly displaying affection. To the surprise, of a young upcoming American journalist, online romance in the Czech republic reflects that of the real life Czech romance.
Ryan Farley:
Public transportation in a new city can be intimidating at first no matter where you are. Add on the fact that everything about the public transportation is written and displayed in a language so foreign and you have a recipe for disaster. During my first week in Prague I was taking the number ten tram from Palackého Náměstí to Náměstí Míru for dinner with some friends. All of a sudden our tram driver slammed on the breaks and everyone in the tram went flying forward, dangerously so. By this point in the week I had gotten used to the bumpy turns and abrupt stops on the tram but this was something else entirely.
Once the tram came to a halting stop, the passengers began to collect themselves, some on the floor others on top of the person in the seat across from them—it’s a wonder no one got seriously injured! And then we just waited. Why had we stopped? What were we supposed to do? All these thoughts and more were going through my head at once. About 5 minutes after the incident a voice came over the loud speaker and uttered a short sentence in Czech. Many passengers on the tram laughed to their companions but we sat there at a loss for what to think or do. Right after that the tram driver came into the front tram car and then the doors opened. We were right in the middle of a busy street and cars were zooming by close to the ajar tram doors! One by one passengers began to disembark by peeking out at the oncoming traffic and then darting across the two-lane highway. Once we reached the safety of the sidewalk we glanced back at the tram and realized that, in fact, a car had crashed into our tram! We were in an actual tram accident during our first week in Prague. What are the odds?
Marissa Urias:
I’ve been in Prague for exactly one month, and thus far there has been an abundance of culturally shocking circumstances I’ve gotten myself into. There has been uncomfortably prolonged eye contact, oddly silent public spaces, and many doses of personal space invasion on the metro. All of these instances, however, I was warned about. In preparation, I had been taught of the basic differences between American and Czech culture, from their honesty to their societal lingers of communism. I was most surprised, however, to encounter new situations of the canine variety.
Every public sphere within this beautiful city seems to be littered, or rather adorned, with adorable puppies. Whether it be in the city center, on a tram, or even in a restaurant, they are everywhere. Not only can they be spotted in relatively every community within Prague, but I rarely see them on leashes. They simply walk beside their owners as another human would. They rarely bark and even seem to restrain themselves from public dog mating rituals. Such show of obedience is quite impressive, especially for this dog owner of a particularly poorly behaved dog. After speaking to numerous Czechs, it seems as if they simply don’t take the responsibility of raising a dog lightly. I haven’t seen a single stray dog yet, so it appears that they fully realize how much time and effort training a dog takes.
As a dog lover, their presence is wholly welcomed. Seeing that four-legged trot everywhere has been refreshing, and oddly reflective of the people here. The Czech culture is a polite one. It seems even the animals share this respect for graciousness and manners.
Laura Melone:
It’s extremely difficult to write about my most surprising experience in Prague with only a month’s understanding of the Czech Republic under my amateur-traveler and unworldly belt. Every day, whether I’m following the Vltava River on a run or just wandering around the city, I seem to find a new sculpture, a new café, or a new historical monument that just didn’t seem to be there before. I’m still learning my way around the nooks and crannies of Prague and, although it seems as if I will never be able to truly engulf all of the new information that bombards my head every time I step out of my dorm, the most surprising experience to me is that I’m actually here, stepping out of my comfort zone and learning more about myself in a different country.
I know that every child has “growing pains,” dealing with their own constant push for independence and the pull from parents trying to reign in their wild child. However, these “growing pains” were especially difficult on me, since I constantly heard the same berating sentence from my mother each day: “Why can’t you just be content, like the rest of us?” Whether it was flinging myself off the monkey bars, sneaking out of the house at hours only insomniacs encounter, or stealing the family car for a joy ride with friends, I was always the child my mother blamed for her strings of grey hair. And, as I progressed in age, I constantly had to hide my thirst for adventure and thrill so that I would stop seeing my mother’s wrinkles deepen and convince myself that I didn’t need new, exploratory experiences.
However, after a year of fighting with my parents about leaving home to attend college, and eventually settling on a university that was closer to home then my dream school, I decided that this young, adventurous Laura was the person I intended to be. I realized nothing in the world could quench this desire for exploration and journey, except for exactly what my mother was trying to keep me from doing: leaving home to travel.
I’m finally here. I’m experiencing another country, another city, and another home all on my own.
So, this may have not been the typical answer to the ultimate question of what about Prague surprises me the most, but choosing just one experience in this new metropolitan oasis is too difficult for me to write in 500 words or less. In reality, everything about this city surprises me, and that’s exactly the emotion I’ve been searching for since I was a toddler running away from my mother the second she let me out of her arms.
