So I suppose it is time for another session of catch-up.
Since returning from Salzburg and Prague, I have started Stuffe Zwei (2), the second language course. Luckily, I am still in class with many of the students that I had been with in Stuffe Eins (1). There are some new students though as well: two from China and two more from Ecuador but for the most part, I am in class with familiar faces. Stuffe Zwei is moving at a better pace than Stuffe Eins had and I am enjoying the added challenge.
When I am not in class, I am generally doing homework, meeting friends or just walking around the city. The Oberstadt has a neat Brothers Grimm display which I plan on sharing with everyone later. I have also gone back to Hannover and have visited friends there.
Over the next month, I have two more breaks from class in which I will doing a little traveling. So far, nothing is concrete, but I will keep everyone posted and continue sharing my experiences.
Good luck with finals!
S.N.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Prague
Thursday, April 16
Somewhere in the countryside we noticed that we could no longer read the signs. Suddenly different characters appeared and we deduced that we had crossed the Austrian border into the Czech Republic. Exactly when this occurred, we were uncertain. Since the Czech Republic and Austria are both part of the European Union, there are no border patrols or check points between the two countries. If there was a sign, we missed it.
We took several different buses and trains through the green and hilly countryside. Suddenly the vehicle would stop and we would be ushered off and onto another one. We hoped that we were somehow headed to Prague. I was never too certain until someone would say, “Yes, to Praha” and then I would be relieved. We took two different buses and at least three different trains.
On the last train we boarded, we sat next to a middle aged woman in a small private car. The woman seemed approachable, with her pinkish-orange lipstick, short, graying curls, thick glasses and warm smile. I decided to ask her where we were going. She only shook her head. She did not understand German or English, but talked excitedly as she dug in her handbag. She produced a cell phone and proceeded to make a call. After speaking for a moment she handed me the phone.
Bewildered, I took it and sheepishly greeted the person on the other end of the line. I was greeted back by a friendly thick Czechoslovakian accent. It turned out that the woman had called her English-speaking son to answer our questions. Again it was confirmed, we were on our way to Prague.
We rolled into the city at about 7 p.m. at a shabby, concrete and overwhelmingly shady-looking train station. Perhaps it was the oppressing atmosphere or the unfamiliar Czechoslovakian language I heard, but I had a feeling of uneasiness deep in my stomach. I suggested that we speak to each other in German as if that would somehow advert something terrible (and as if our American accents were not detectable). Alyssa and Rebbekah agreed, leaving poor Naomi silent as we chatted about how to reach our hostel. According to our directions, we needed to take a metro.
We exchanged our euros for crowns and took the metro in the direction of our hostel. Inside the metro there w
ere signs in both English and Czech about looking out for pick pockets. I was put even more on edge.
Eventually we found our hostel and were taken to our room, which turned out to be about a 10 minute walk from the reception’s office. Surprisingly we had unwittingly booked a spacious apartment consisting of four rooms- one a bedroom, one a living room/kitchen, one little room with a sink and toilet, the other with a large, Jacuzzi-style bathtub.
The place was completely furnished with a television, cooking supplies, beautiful tea sets with intricate designs, stove, dishwasher, refrigerator, coffee maker, large windows with red candy striped curtains, two sofas (I was sleeping on one of them- a big, red, comfy fold out one that presumably matched the curtains), also a little iron balcony overlooking an alleyway. Strangely enough the living room featured a big framed picture of New York City.
My travel companions were thrilled about our accommodations, but I was harder to convince. The apartment had its space and luxuries and cost about the same as our cramped eight person room in Salzburg, but we were also isolated from anyone who could help us if we were to need it. The apartment had no friendly staff to answer questions, give directions or provide breakfast. I could not help but think of the beggars rifling through the garbage in the alley below and wondering how safe we actually were.
I certainly was afraid to go out at night, which was a very unfamiliar feeling for me. In Hannover, Marburg and even the largely unfamiliar Salzburg, I had felt peace and sense of security and safety that was almost completely voided while in the Czech Republic. Undoubtedly I was experiencing some form of culture shock.
It seemed to me that most people I encountered here had hard, blank, expressionless faces, often with a cigarette hanging from their lips. Clothing was almost exclusively dark colors, different shades of blacks and grays, reflecting the gray, emotionless sky. The constant drizzle also added to the gloominess.
Even with my fears and reservations we did manage to have a decent time sightseeing in Prague. The gothic architecture surrounded by modern buildings was something I found particularly beautiful and special.
We hit the must see sights recommended to us by our guide books like the Charles Bridge, a bridge over the Vltava River adorned with 30 statues of saints and religious figures, Petřín Hill, a hill covered in parks with a gorgeous view of the city below and the Prague Castle.
The Prague Castle and its surroundings were my favorite sites. Though the weather was blusterous and rainy, teams of tourists lined up to visit St Vitus’s Cathedral, St George’s Basilica and the Golden Lane where Kafka once lived. We joined them merrily oohing and aahing at the cathedrals beautiful painted windows and the crown jewels of Bohemia, scampering down the wet cobblestones of the Golden Lane and thoroughly enjoying ourselves despite the weather.
On Sunday, April 19 we turned in our hostel keys and returned to Marburg, exhausted, with plenty of laundry to do and a new class to prepare for.
S.N.
Somewhere in the countryside we noticed that we could no longer read the signs. Suddenly different characters appeared and we deduced that we had crossed the Austrian border into the Czech Republic. Exactly when this occurred, we were uncertain. Since the Czech Republic and Austria are both part of the European Union, there are no border patrols or check points between the two countries. If there was a sign, we missed it.We took several different buses and trains through the green and hilly countryside. Suddenly the vehicle would stop and we would be ushered off and onto another one. We hoped that we were somehow headed to Prague. I was never too certain until someone would say, “Yes, to Praha” and then I would be relieved. We took two different buses and at least three different trains.
On the last train we boarded, we sat next to a middle aged woman in a small private car. The woman seemed approachable, with her pinkish-orange lipstick, short, graying curls, thick glasses and warm smile. I decided to ask her where we were going. She only shook her head. She did not understand German or English, but talked excitedly as she dug in her handbag. She produced a cell phone and proceeded to make a call. After speaking for a moment she handed me the phone.
Bewildered, I took it and sheepishly greeted the person on the other end of the line. I was greeted back by a friendly thick Czechoslovakian accent. It turned out that the woman had called her English-speaking son to answer our questions. Again it was confirmed, we were on our way to Prague.
We rolled into the city at about 7 p.m. at a shabby, concrete and overwhelmingly shady-looking train station. Perhaps it was the oppressing atmosphere or the unfamiliar Czechoslovakian language I heard, but I had a feeling of uneasiness deep in my stomach. I suggested that we speak to each other in German as if that would somehow advert something terrible (and as if our American accents were not detectable). Alyssa and Rebbekah agreed, leaving poor Naomi silent as we chatted about how to reach our hostel. According to our directions, we needed to take a metro.
We exchanged our euros for crowns and took the metro in the direction of our hostel. Inside the metro there w
ere signs in both English and Czech about looking out for pick pockets. I was put even more on edge.Eventually we found our hostel and were taken to our room, which turned out to be about a 10 minute walk from the reception’s office. Surprisingly we had unwittingly booked a spacious apartment consisting of four rooms- one a bedroom, one a living room/kitchen, one little room with a sink and toilet, the other with a large, Jacuzzi-style bathtub.
The place was completely furnished with a television, cooking supplies, beautiful tea sets with intricate designs, stove, dishwasher, refrigerator, coffee maker, large windows with red candy striped curtains, two sofas (I was sleeping on one of them- a big, red, comfy fold out one that presumably matched the curtains), also a little iron balcony overlooking an alleyway. Strangely enough the living room featured a big framed picture of New York City.
My travel companions were thrilled about our accommodations, but I was harder to convince. The apartment had its space and luxuries and cost about the same as our cramped eight person room in Salzburg, but we were also isolated from anyone who could help us if we were to need it. The apartment had no friendly staff to answer questions, give directions or provide breakfast. I could not help but think of the beggars rifling through the garbage in the alley below and wondering how safe we actually were.
I certainly was afraid to go out at night, which was a very unfamiliar feeling for me. In Hannover, Marburg and even the largely unfamiliar Salzburg, I had felt peace and sense of security and safety that was almost completely voided while in the Czech Republic. Undoubtedly I was experiencing some form of culture shock.
It seemed to me that most people I encountered here had hard, blank, expressionless faces, often with a cigarette hanging from their lips. Clothing was almost exclusively dark colors, different shades of blacks and grays, reflecting the gray, emotionless sky. The constant drizzle also added to the gloominess.
Even with my fears and reservations we did manage to have a decent time sightseeing in Prague. The gothic architecture surrounded by modern buildings was something I found particularly beautiful and special.
We hit the must see sights recommended to us by our guide books like the Charles Bridge, a bridge over the Vltava River adorned with 30 statues of saints and religious figures, Petřín Hill, a hill covered in parks with a gorgeous view of the city below and the Prague Castle.
The Prague Castle and its surroundings were my favorite sites. Though the weather was blusterous and rainy, teams of tourists lined up to visit St Vitus’s Cathedral, St George’s Basilica and the Golden Lane where Kafka once lived. We joined them merrily oohing and aahing at the cathedrals beautiful painted windows and the crown jewels of Bohemia, scampering down the wet cobblestones of the Golden Lane and thoroughly enjoying ourselves despite the weather.
On Sunday, April 19 we turned in our hostel keys and returned to Marburg, exhausted, with plenty of laundry to do and a new class to prepare for.
S.N.
First image: Me standing under the Astronomical Clock
Second image: Alyssa standing with the Charles Bridge in the background
Third image: The happy travelers (without Niami, who went back to the states)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)