Reflections

The wind was relentlessly whipping across our faces as we descended down the knoll and stepped over the small creek that twisted in between the pine trees. Jamie and I were told that this was a forest, but it looked more like an American tree farm than an actual living, breathing habitat of foliage, animals, regeneration and decay. Everything was in lines and you could walk between the trees like a row of corn. There were no animals on the ground. It was desolate and brown; the winter winds had killed off any under growth, if any had ever existed at all.

It is sad riding a train across the Czech countryside and gazing out at the rolling hills. One notices that most have no trees and if they have trees, they are the tall, spindly pines that grow about 50,000 feet in a year; Czechs harvest and sell them for lumber without having to wait decades to turn a profit. This land is aged and people have settled here for thousands of years. Historically, Slavs were farmers and the continuous cycle of plowing, tilling, cutting and planting has really left an impression on the environment.

Many years ago, the Czech Republic was covered by deciduous forests, where trees like oaks, maples and birches would reign supreme. Their decomposed leaves leaving bedding full of vitamins and nutrients for future growth and renewal. In the fall, I could imagine that the hills would turn into a panorama of red, orange and yellow, as if a painter lightly tapped his brush against a canvas creating miniscule paint blotches. I'm sure that it was beautiful.

Today, it is green. When hiking, one can sometimes see amongst the rows of skinny trunks a behemoth with a twisted torso and gyrating arms that look like the snakes that make up medusa's hair: one goes left, the other corkscrews right, one is pointing up and one is contorted in utter confusion. When it rains, the pine trees never look wet; their bark seems to soak up the water. But, the bark of a deciduous tree turns black and slick; it looks like oil amongst the pines. It is eerie, almost scary. I can't help but admire the longevity of the deciduous tree. It is surrounded on all sides by uniformity and likeness, and here it stands, a link to the past, a dying relic and the only color in the fall.

So, on the train I feel a sense of loss as I gaze at the pine trees.The Czech country side is wonderful, but I think that it is stunning because of the hills, farms and small villages, not for the wildlife. However, this is Europe and this is the place where people have treaded for hundreds, thousands of years.

Christmas is here and I can't believe how fast the time is flying by. I know that I keep on repeating it, but really, it is shocking. We have been in Europe for almost six months!

In the past six months I have been pulled and prodded; I have seen extreme highs and apathetic lows; I have criticized, appreciated, misunderstood and received clarity. I guess that this is what is called life. I know that this experience living in a different culture, learning a new language and formulating relationships will teach me a lot about maturity, but I hope that it also teaches me about myself.

I still believe that everyone, at some point in their life, should live in a new culture and see the world through the eyes of people completely separated from their own worldview and history. It is so challenging, but it brings heaps of perspective; I can't help but feel that people are cheated if they don't take this step. I know that resources and time have a lot to do with the fact that many people do not travel, but a hidden arrogance might also be at play.

I am amazed at how many times I speak with Czechs and realize my own ignorance and also my own egotism as an American. I guess this might sound kind of funny, but the stereotypes about American personalities can be true, to an extent. When Czechs talk about their history or about their cars or about really anything 'Czech', I had this idea of, "oh, that is so cute." Maybe, "oh that is so cute," is not the best way to think about a nation of people. I mean, they might be a small nation of people, but not everything they do is so, little. The roads are smaller, the cars are smaller, the heating systems in the houses are not as large or as warm, their sports crowds are smaller, their stadiums are smaller, their television options are smaller, their cookies are smaller, the people are smaller....you get the picture? I do think to an extent I was letting my preconceived notions cloud my perceptions about the history, the culture and even the people.

Jamie and I can learn so much from the Czech Republic, we just have to let our eyes be opened. I think that both Jamie and I have to accept some of the cultural differences as our own: we have to be people who are both American and both Czech. If we are too focused on home or in comparison and contrasting, then we might miss the beauty of uniqueness. I can't focus on "this in relation to that." I have to focus on "this" (cultural entity) and appreciate it for what it is. I guess I would advise people to be leery about the tendency in all of us to question whether another culture can teach us anything more about ourselves; they can and they most often will, one just has to let go a little bit so the teaching can commence!

I feel very jumbled, there is so much to say, but I am really struggling with how to express it.

I've begun to realize the difference between traveling for a few months and living in a place for an extended period of time. I mentioned in an earlier post (maybe November) that everyone goes through a cycle when they travel: the first month is WOW; the third month is WOW/TIRED; the fifth month is, CRITICAL/SICK OF EVERTYHING. I often find myself in the "critical/sick of things" stage of my cultural journey. This is not to say that my time in the Czech Republic has been ruined by such a mindset. To the contrary, I am glad that I am having these bouts of overt criticism of the Czech people, as I think it keeps me honest and not too nostalgic about my host culture. For example, I don't like the fact that Czech people really struggle to take responsibility for tasks, or that they can be cold on the street and unwilling to engage in conversations with strangers. I also don't like the fact that people get right up on your butt in line, as if they want to take your spot, even though you have been standing there for 20 minutes!!!! I digress...

One night Jan and I were in the car together and I was explaining to him that I get more and more frustrated when Czechs speak about Americans and American culture. I feel that many of them just vent their frustrations about commercialized, exported culture and about Bush, which they then make the mistake of thinking that ALL Americans support. Jan told me, that he could tell that I had now entered into the criticism stage of cultural immersion and that it was officially my problem, not the people of the Czech Republic.He is right. Because I only understand certain aspects of Czech conversation, I make up the rest. What might seem like a very critical conversation about Americans might end up being a conversation about American film and the mass production of it.

So, I have begun to contort the discussion to fit into my own mentality, which is not so healthy to do. However, it does not mean that many of my complaints are wrong or misplaced. What it does mean, is that I have to wrestle with how to appropriately handle myself in a culture that is not mine, but that is not completely separate from who I am. The longer I live here, the more Czech I become; but at heart, I am still an American by blood, by memory and by habit. When someone insults the United States, I can't get offended and try to explain to them about the diversity of the country. They don't care. I can't change their ideas. I am not on a mission to change peoples' preconceived notions about the big, bully nation in North America.

I know that many of you might be thinking that this makes no sense, and it very well might make no sense to any of you, but just know that the more you stay in a place, the tougher it gets to place a finger on the people who live there. Maybe this could go a long way to international understanding. Think, only if rich whites would move into the inner city, then maybe we wouldn't label them as all lazy and derelict; or, if we middle class workers went and lived with the rich, then maybe we wouldn't believe them to be all greedy; and if we Christians went and lived in a nation of Muslims, then maybe we wouldn't believe them to be all blood-thirsty terrorists; or maybe if some people would travel to the United States, then they would see that not all Americans are fat, ignorant and rich. It is their choice however, not mine. It starts at an individual level.

So, I can rail against the Czech people all I want, but really, I am loving them. I love them for how they challenge me, who they are making me into and how they take easy answers and twist them like a pretzel. Through my Czech friends and students, I am able to see the world through a different perspective and it is this experience that laughs at ignorance and egotism. I need them in a way, because what would be exciting about life if all our senses were clouded with the mundane and the usual?

I urge everyone, to please step outside of your comfort zone, experience something new and judge it after. But, remember that you can not separate yourself from your life and you can't separate your life from your experience.

Christmas:

Czechs are not showy people, so in town, there are very few christmas lights or gaudy decorations of plastic Santa’s climbing chimneys, or gargantuan size snowflakes hanging over the road. It might seem like a bad thing to Jamie and me, as we are used to a very bright, sparkly Christmas season, but it has been quite refreshing. There are so many differences with the holiday season, that I would feel it best to just list them out:

* Czechs do not decorate the Christmas tree until Christmas Eve. Many families still put wax candles on the tree to make it "twinkle." Jamie and I will not do this, because I am sure we would burn our apartment building to the ground.

* For dinner, the Czechs eat carp and potato salad. For the past week, there have been men in town selling the fish out of a huge steel cylinder. They grab the fish with the net and then plop them down on a table that has rubber on it, so the fish don't slide around. Families then can chose which fish they want to eat for dinner. Once the choice is made, the family can either opt to kill the fish there or take it home and put it into the bath tub until death calls. Putting it into the bath tub is the best, because the kids can play with it and watch it swim around. The Dus family has their fishy in the tub right now and it is pretty big. Carp are ugly fish, but they have cute faces. I can't help but feel sad for the fish; they really are helpless out of water.

* Czechs open their gifts on Christmas Eve, not Christmas day.* Children write letters not to Santa, but to "baby Jesus." More on this at a later date....

*Czech women make sweets all week in preparation for the big meal. Usually the sweets consist of ginger bread, cookies with jam in the middle, coconut cookies and little vanilka rohlicky, or vanilla rolls.

* Czechs have a "mini" fast on Christmas Eve. Supposedly, they are able to see the 'golden pig' if they do not eat any food before dinner. I have no idea what this is about, but I will try to get more on it later.

* Many Czech families go to "midnight mass," even though they are not Christian.

* Czechs really enjoy "Christmas events" like nativity scenes, caroling, workshops, etc.

* That’s about it for now....

Sadly, it does not look like there will be any snow for Christmas, which is disappointing. The winter this year has been really mild; we have had only one real snowfall all year....