Rock n Roll: rebellion and revolution

After my first presentation in January, a few of my Czech friends were asking me to give a lecture on American music. It seems that discussions about race and history, while interesting and thought-provoking, are not exactly what the teenagers want...

I ruminated on the suggestion for a little while and decided that the next discussion would be geared towards a younger crowd: many of my events are well attended, but I wanted to drop the average age from 30 to 18.

American music.....

Bluegrass!? No, that is too "old peopleish"

Blues!? Maybe, but Czechs won't understand their words....

Jazz!? Umm...........

POP?! No, I have no interest.

Hip Hop!? White boy + Hip hop = unauthentic.

Rock 'n' Roll!? YES!!!

Most Czechs know Rock n Roll music. No, most people in the world know Rock n Roll music, yet many "fans" of the genre really don't know the rich history of it and the influence of the early artists: chuck berry, carl perkins, jerry lee lewis, buddy holly, etc. Yeah, we Americans know their names, but for Europeans, especially those that were shielded behind the Iron Curtain for 40 years, Rock started with the Beetles, the Rolling Stones or even the Ramones; this is quite sad.

I began to read a lot and found that the years 1955 to 1957 were the epicenter of storm. So much was changing in American culture that the new was so holistic different than the old that many Americans today can't imagine what life was like pre-WWII: there was the development of the youth culture, the superstar and the rebel; it saw the ascendancy of the guitar as the primary weapon of rebellion and rhythm; Disc Jockeys ruled the airwaves; white, American suburbanites began listening to black Rock n Rollers. It was a wild time.

Much of it is forgotten now, because most of the sound quality is bad, there are a limited number of videos, most of the artist have been dead for decades and the early rock movement was about as long as Jerry Lee Lewis' career (3 years). So, I knew that a presentation on the foundations of Rock would be very new and (hopefully) interesting topic for my Czech friends.

The presentation was a joy to piece together; I used a plethora of original videos and found many obscure photographs. I knew that if the audience was getting bored/confused during my speaking parts, I could grab their attention by playing the videos or showing the pictures. I really didn't mind if this presentation wasn't solely driven by content.

I was hopeful that it would be a success.

As time approached, I slowly began to receive some guests. At about 6:30, when the presentation was scheduled to start, I had about 15 people (not a lot), but by 6:35 the number had sharply risen to 25 (respectable). A vast majority of the audience were in their late teens and early twenties. I had college students, teachers and high school students. I was proud that my plan had come into fruition: young people came!



The actual speaking went well, but my computer had some problems. The first video I attempted to play (Crow Jane by the blues man Skip James) had no sound. At this point, I had a small panic, because for the hour leading up to the start time, Jamie and I were having trouble downloading sound to go along with the videos. And, a Rock presentation without sound or video, is going to be B-O-R-I-N-G. Gathering myself, I pressed onward into the material and came upon the second video that was scheduled to be shown. I held my breath. Thankfully, it played. I was relieved. I talked for another 30 minutes and showed two more videos, which worked without major problems. Then, towards the end, I ran into trouble.

I set up my presentation like a fireworks show. I wanted to pepper the beginning of the speaking with a few videos here and there to keep the audience with me, and then at the end, release four consecutive video clips in a row. I did this for two reasons: one, it gave the audience a feel for how quickly and suddenly Rock n Roll was on the map as a viable movement; two, I wanted the audience to leave feeling entertained and informed. Yet, when it came time to start the video barrage, the worst happened. We received the "blue screen of death." That's correct, my computer completely crashed...

Shock and grief were the first two emotions that welled up from my gut. I tried to do an about-face and play it off. I joked and laughed, but deep down, I was so disappointed that I wouldn't be able to show my videos. I felt as if the whole presentation was a waste, because without the clips, there would be no reference for the audience to see what I was talking about.

After about 5 minutes, I gave my prepared conclusion and apologized for the technical problems. I told them that they could leave if they liked, but surprisingly, no one got up. I asked them if they were staying to watch the videos and all of them answered with an affirmative "yes!"

Eventually, the computer slowly came back to life and we ended with a fantastic finish.

Travels with my Pomlazka

The Monday after Easter men and boys get up really early and grab their pomlazka and a basket. A pomlazka, as I wrote in a previous post, is a switch made from braided willow branches, which is used to whack the legs of girls. It is said that the pomlazka, and the rhyme that is uttered while whacking the girls, ensure the women fertility and health for the rest of the year. In reality, the tradition is kind of like Halloween, as the men and boys go from door to door and receive colored eggs, candy and sometimes alcohol. I had some reservations about going, because really didn't know what to expect. I knew that I wasn't very comfortable with the idea of getting drunk and hitting young girls with switches, but I also thought that the tradition would be a great opportunity to visit with some friends and do some chatting.

About seven men and boys, from the church, came to our apartment at 7:45 am to whack Jamie. I was happy that they came this early, as it would afford me an opportunity to see the how the 'whacking' is appropriately applied. Also, I wanted to laugh and take pictures of Jamie. As they entered in through they door, they all instantly started hitting Jamie and saying the little chant. Some of the guys were hitting harder and one of them even hit her butt, which I got a good chuckle out of. In about 30 seconds they had finished with the "beating" and Jamie handed out the painted eggs that she prepared the night before. It wasn't very long before they were gone and off to another house. As they were leaving, one of them asked me if I was planning on going. And after seeing the tradition, I thought to myself, "I can do that."

(friends coming to whack Jamie)

(eggs Jamie painted to give to boys who whacked her)

Opting to take the much smaller pomlazka that Jamie made was a good choice, as I began to ride my bike around Policka. I had an idea of which girls I wanted to go and "pomlazk", but I wasn't sure how long I would be out.

My first stop was to a family in the church, the Svecs. Both Jirka (dad) and Jiri (son) were at our apartment to hit Jamie, so I thought I would return the favor. Upon riding up to their street, I saw Jirka and Jiri walking down the road; they were very excited to see me coming up the hill with my pomlazka in hand. They told me to just enter the house without a proper knock and surprise Lenka (wife) and Martina (daughter). I left my bike on the sidewalk and quietly crept through the doorway and into the kitchen. There, in the kitchen, I began to say the rhyme and lightly tapped Lenka on the legs__ I am a gentlemen, you know? She was so surprised to see me and took me upstairs to whack Martina, which I also did. Then, I went downstairs, got some candy, received a colored egg and whacked their Grandma. Needless to say, it was pretty fun.

After the first visit at the Svecs, I went on a "whacking" rampage. Here is the list:

Jamie Ault (whacked)- received a special egg and a kiss
Lenka Svecova (whacked)-received dyed egg, candy
Martina Svecova (whacked)- received ribbon
Grandma Svecova (whacked)- received chocolate chicken
Anna Dusova (whacked)- received colored Egg
Marta Dusova (whacked)- received colored ribbon for pomlazka
Magda Dusova (whacked)- received chocolate candy
Dasa Klusonva (whacked) - received tea, food, lots of candy and a nice conversation and ribbon.
Magda Jakubsova (whacked)- received eggs
Klara Jakubsova (whacked)- received candy
Bara Jakubsova (whacked)
Girl I just met in the house (whacked)- received awkward stare
Madla Dolejsova (whacked)- received candy, eggs and Easter bread
Mrs. Dolejsova (whacked)
Madla's Grandma (whacked)
Renata Blandova (whacked)- received candy, eggs and chlebicky (offered soup, but I declined)
Vera Zahourova (whacked)- received chocolate and fizzy, sweet water.
Jitulka Vosmekova (whacked)- received candy and egg and a ribbon
Maria Vosmekova (whacked)- received lunch and another ribbon
Jitulka's sister (whacked)- received a smile

total: 4 hours and 21 kilometers on my bike.
20 women/girls/grandmas whacked
11 eggs, 4 ribbons, and countless amounts of candy received
18 times saying the Czech rhyme :

hody hody doprovody

Dejte vejce malovany (Give me a painted egg)

Nedate-li malovany (If you don't give me a painted egg)

Dejte aspon bily (At least give me a white one)

Slepicka vam snese jiny (The hen will lay another)

(Me whacking Jitulka)
(My loot!)

Before I went on my journey through the Czech countryside, I didn't know if I would enjoy this celebration; however, after I was done, I felt a new sense of joy at knowing that I spent some time with many of the women who have helped me in countless ways since arriving in the Czech Republic. For many of the women they were happy that I went out of my way and chose to say hi to them. It really was just such a small way for me to show that I appreciate them in more ways than I can count, even if it was manifested through a little tap with a pomlazka.

As I was riding back to Policka from Teleci, I passed a meandering creek that was sparkling in the sun. I looked over to the left and saw the lake that fed the creek and saw two swans prancing through the water. I saw fishermen relaxing in the shade. I saw birds flying over fields and flowers blooming on the hillsides. I saw little boys and dads walking to their Grandma's house with pomlazkas in hand. And, I realized that it was a beautiful day in more ways than just one.

Easter

Easter Holiday is an interesting thing in the Czech Republic. On our train ride back from Olomouc, I was perusing through magazine racks, when I began to read the headlines of a Czech newspaper. It was a poll about Easter and asked these questions: "What does Easter mean to you?" and "What do you do to celebrate Easter?" My curiosity being engaged, I began to read further on; I wanted to see the results, as I was sure that it would be an insight into Czech thinking. What I found, was really shocking. In answer to the "what Easter means to you" question, 66 percent said that it was the traditional celebration of spring renewal (pagan in origin), 24 percent that it was Christian and the remainder said that it really means nothing. The answers to the second question were no different: 68 percent of the persons asked said that Easter is a time when they clean, 15 percent said they take trips into nature and only 18 percent informed the paper that they go to Church.

Instantly, I felt sadness.

Sixty-eight percent of people in the Czech Republic, on one of the holiest days of the year, clean!? I mean, I can clean any weekend, really. There is nothing spiritual or emotional about wiping the dirt off of a windowsill or sweeping gargantuan size dust balls into a trash can. I mean what is your life about? Where are you rooted? What is your worldview? I know that their life praxis isn't built around having a clean house, at least I hope not.

To me, Easter is a reminder that my life isn't really my life: I should not live for myself and I shouldn't only think about my comfort. Easter is a reminder about the deepness of spirituality, of creation, of beauty, of family and of emotion. It is a calling back to reconciliation and it is the realization of why life should be more than just an amalgamation of pleasures, desires and obligations. Life is the most powerful, most wonderful and most mysterious gift. On Easter I want to celebrate this reminder that life and all that it encompasses, from marriage to flowers, are infinitely more complex than our explanations of them. It is the time when we celebrate the greatest sabotage: the defeat of death. And I'm sorry, but cleaning windows does not do that justice, even if you’re a Christian or not....

Olomouc

Jamie and I have had quite the eventful week. I would love to relay to you all the information, but I know that I really won't be able to do so. So much is going through my mind, and the past two weeks have been so spectacular that I feel like I am reborn in a small way. My Czech is improving, I feel more confident communicating with my friends and the sun has been shining for about two weeks straight.

I will give a snippet of my journal entries in Olomouc. Some of them might have nothing to do with the city and sights, but I will post them anyways, as they are good insights into the progression of my thoughts since last July.

Olomouc:

Olomouc is a beautiful place because it is quiet. There are a minimal number of tourists and a majority of the restaurants only have Czech menus. There is an authenticity here that is missing in Prague and Cesky Krumlov. In a sense, the city has retained the "un-spoiled" feel that a living, breathing community gives it; instead of the economy being built on tourism, most of Olomouc's life hinges on two things: University and the Catholic Church.

This is the most religious place/city in the whole Czech Republic. For many years Olomouc was the capital of the Kingdom of Moravia, which gave it importance in the eyes of the Pope and the Church. Consequently, Baroque architecture and art is EVERYWHERE. This is quite sad for me, because I don't really find Baroque to be pleasing__ok, I think it is tacky. I was hoping to see some Romanesque structures, as this city is over 1000 years old and the original architectural style was Roman.

In fact, the city means "Caesar's hill" in Latin. It is said that Caesar stopped at a natural spring during one of his many conquests of Europe. The legion camped there and watered their horses; building a primitive community. This community of Roman soldiers is said to be the first inhabitants of the city of Olomouc. The spring can still be seen. All you have to do is walk up a small incline, go into St. Michael's cathedral, walk through the monk's corridor, find the basement entrance and proceed to descend the winding stairs to the bottom. There you will find the fresh water. I was amazed. I touched the rocks, stared into the small pool and day-dreamed about how I'm touching the stone that a Roman soldier's hand was on. It was fantastic. However, the dank bottom of a church is no place for such history and beauty.

Olomouc is a "religious" town in relic and past only; I am not so sure if the congregations are living. Today at town hall, a group of Czech Christians were reading the Gospels on a loud speaker, which would echo and resound throughout the main square. They were there all day, from morning to night. After about 5 hours of walking around, Jamie and I decided to sit and people watch; we both thought the square would be the perfect place for such an endeavor. Upon taking my place on the bench, I noticed two homeless men yelling insults at those Christians who were reading the Gospels. They were dirty and one of them had no shoes on. His socks had big holes in the front, so his toes were caked in black grime. The other man had thick-lense glasses that mad his eyes bug out. He had a cane to keep him supported, as he had a bad case of tremors. The man without the shoes was the more dominate of the two, as his insults were more vocal and forthcoming. His partner would just shake his head in agreement. Attempting to disrupt the readers, they began to play a harmonica as loud as they could. I couldn't help but reflect on the smallness of the sound. In my life I have rarely seen such tangible opposition: rebellion vs. the Gospel. He would play and play on that small instrument, but it was no avail. As the man with no shoes got up to leave, he staggered past the bench where I was sitting and looked directly at me. His eyes where uneven, which gave him a look of wildness. He made an exaggerated point to the heavens and began to scream to the sky, "Jesus! Please! Give me shoes." Mockingly he stumbled away; as he was sure his shoes would not come. His prayer wouldn't be answered.

Something very interesting happened during our last night in the hostel. Two Asian girls arrived in the early afternoon: one was from Mongolia and the other was Korean. The Mongolian girl did not speak any English, which is a very big problem, since almost all hostels communicate with guests in English. The owner of the hostel, who speaks Czech, informed the two girls that Jamie and I speak a little bit of the language, so if they wanted to communicate, they could just find us. Later on that night, I heard them speaking to each other and understood them. I interrupted their conversation to ask them a couple questions: "Where are you from?" "Where do you study?" "How long will you be in Olomouc?" We began to talk and talk and talk. I felt kind of bad, because our New Zealand and American friends were really left out of the conversation, but it was a powerful moment for me, as I began to see the power of speaking another language. Now, I wouldn't say that I can "speak" Czech, but I would say that I can "communicate" in Czech, which is a big improvement from just over a year ago. I learned about the Asian girls and began to understand their personalities; it was a far cry from what normally would have happened if someone entered a hostel only speaking Czech and Mongolian. Their grammar was perfect, but their accents were very strong (as is mine). It was really great speaking with foreigners in Czech because I found it much easier to understand them: they have a more basic vocabulary (like me) and they speak much slower than native Czechs (also like me). They kept asking me where I study Czech, as they both were students of the language. I told them that I teach myself, which they were dully impressed to hear. Now, I know that I have a long way to go in my language, but I found some satisfaction in looking at how far I have come since the fall. And, I really can't wait to see what next year has in store for me on this crazy journey of "bilingualism.”

Creativity

Click here to read this article about my close friend Robby, as he devotes his passion to those who are less fortunate.

Spring time thoughts.

Birds have been chirping and the sun has been shining for about a week now. It is really unbelievable how fast it all changed: one week it was snowy and blustery, the next I was walking around with just a t-shirt on.

I never thought of myself as one whose emotional stability was dictated by the weather, but this year I began to see it differently. As the winter drug on and the snow kept on piling up, my mood would progressively deteriorate. I believe that part of the problem was the fact that I was unable to be physically active, because unlike in the United States, there really aren't very many options for sport/exercise during the winter. Many Czechs go cross-country skiing and ice skating, which is absolutely fantastic and fun, but when you have neither of those at your disposal, you begin to get a little stir-crazy. The lack of sunlight, I'm sure, was also a factor in producing "grumpy-I'm-sick-of-winter Jeremy." Consequently, I feel a tad reborn, which is fitting, for Spring time is the season for blooming, birthing, resurrecting ( the Holy kind) and frolicking.


Knowing that the weather in Policka can be fickle, I have intentionally gotten outside and been active. I have found a small blessing in doing this: the students in my classes are eager to spend time with me outside of the Church setting. I have received initiations to bike ride, to run and to play sports. Just this morning, I went with one of my adult students (Vlada Gracias) on a 15 km (9 mile) run through the Czech forest; it was absolutely fantastic ( I must admit that I was surprised I can still run 9 miles). And on Saturday I went cycling with a close friend, Petr Kluson, to the Castle at Svojanov, 35 km. WHEW!

The Easter season has hit the Czech Republic and I am quite excited to see their traditions. Many Czechs really do not associate the holiday with its Christian roots, but instead look towards the 'spring time' celebration of smacking girls with braided willow branches (pomlazka). The Monday after Easter Sunday is famous in this country, as men/boys go around to the houses of their female friends with their willow-branch switch in hand. A knock on the door signals to many women that their time has come to be beaten. OK, it's not really a 'beating' but a little traditional tap on the legs, but as you can imagine, it is usually their posteriors that hurt the most when the day has concluded. Anyways, in return for their "spanking", women give the boys decorated eggs and the men alcohol. This might sound crazy to you, and in reality, it is a little strange; drunken men going door to door with braided switches hitting women on their butts is not exactly the definition of a family celebration. But, not all is lost for the women: it is said that the taps/smacks from the pomlazka are said to ensure that the women will have health and, of course, fertility; after all, this is Spring!

Needless to say, I will enjoy Monday. I will laugh heartily as our Czech friends come to the door to smack Jamie for health and fertility (not too much fertility).

Don't worry I will be sure to take some pictures.

Oh, and I made my own pomlazka, so I might be going around to "visit" some of my female Czech friends as well...

Also, Jamie and I will be taking a two-day trip to the Moravian city of Olomouc. Olomouc is a college town of about 100,000 inhabitants (half of which are students). It is the traditional capital of the Moravian kingdom and boasts not one, but TWO old-town squares; many people say that it is what Prague looked like before the tourist explosion of the 1990s. We will be sure to take some pictures and post them on the blog upon our return.