Each day we inch closer to the date whereupon Jamie and me fly away from Prague and land in Pennsylvania. I remember, all the way back in July, that when we landed I was looking out the window and staring at the cracked 'tarmak' and the little blue lights that line the edge of the runway. I thought to myself, " Man, I don't want to fly anymore, my ears are killing me." Then in the next instance my mind retorted, "Don't worry about that. You have one year, one whole year."
Some times I remember my experiences from this past year as one big blur, literally. I imagine that if I had a slide-show of pictures and each one presented itself in succession back dropped with some epic, crescendo-building music, everything from language learning, to travelling, from relationships to loneliness, from frustration to unabashed joy, from snow showers to sunshine, would seem much more powerful. Today, it is not the case: I sit in the office and plan classes; I think about my run this morning and how happy I am that the sun is out; I wonder if I remembered to shut the windows in our apartment; I dread the fact that I have another 8 hours in the church building; I am slightly irritable because there is a slight pain in my temple; I am worn out from a monotonous routine, and I am left, in the moment, concentrating only on my nearest comfort, not reflecting, not appreciating, how much I have changed since July 17th 2008.
I know that my last post was very reflective and I feel that this one is going down the exact same path; I guess it is fitting that I am just starting to digest this past year in slow spurts, so please bear with another rambling, long-paragraphed, nostalgic post.
Recently, I have found myself in the company of Czech friends. Most of the time we are at a pub where we can talk for hours on end, which affords me an opportunity to practice my Czech, to remember and to ask questions about culture and, sometimes, frustrations.
I was speaking with my friend Jarda when he suddenly asked me if I realize that my first year is close to completion. I answered that yes I have realized, but with all the work that is left to accomplish, it seems that there is a barrier between when we actually fly away from Prague and the continuous work of everyday living. He then took the liberty to ask me about my home.
"Jeremy, is Policka your home?" "Would you stay in Policka after your second year?"
"Jarda, Policka and the Czech Republic are special to me. They have become my home for the time being, but the they are not my emotional home. Culturally,Czechs are different and many days I find myself fighting against it. I know now that this is absolutely futile and I have learned to accept and have come to appreciate some of our differences as a people. For example, when in line for a bus, I have come to realize that Czechs will push past me, as if there were only one seat left. I have grown to anticipate the fact that Czechs shy away from confrontation, so if there is an issue that needs to be discussed or brought to the fore-front, I will have to initiate the conversation. I know that when discussing family, I should just assume that all families live in the same town that they were born: grandma, great grandpa, mom, dad and baby. I have been frustrated by the expression of Czech pride, which is usually predicated by putting-down another culture (usually American) to make a point about the clarity, purity and beauty of Bohemian people. I have grown accustomed to people urinating, EVERYWHERE. I don't like the lack of food diversity here; I can only eat so many rohliku and svickova. I miss the countryside of Pennsylvania where there are bountiful, leaf-filled trees that change color and bud with the changing the season. I often find that Czechs can be quite closed-minded and justify this mentality by blaming it on history and position in the world. I am worried that Czechs don't think seriously enough about their own troubling problems with racism, as this country moves into the globalized world; you can't just blame it on the Roma...or the Vietnamese; we Americans know this.
Jarda, do not take this the wrong way. The beauty of this post is that I am able to reflect on the Czech people and realize that not all of it necessarily TRUE. The fact that I can be frustrated with you and still love being here and all that the country offers me, is a testament to the reality that the Czechs have become REAL to me: you are not just waiters in pubs during my vacation; you aren't just poor farmers on the other side of the world; you aren't the perfect caricatures that I read in travel magazines. No, you have become my neighbors, my friends, my family and, sometimes, my eyes.
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