Well it took me a few weeks but here it is. I know, I really thought it was going to be...awesomer. The blog, that is, not Prague. No, this city couldn't be any awesomer if was made of milk chocolate. Or even white chocolate with a milk chocolate river. A reeses peanut-butter city with a whiskey river...maybe.
Anyways. (But what if the lamp posts were candy-canes and the bridges were chocolate-covered pretzels, cause, you know, the pretzels would kind of be like the girders? That would be amazing!)
Right. Everything here has been going really well, with the exception of a brief bout of mild food poisoning, which came on the heels of a mild hangover. That was my first real weekend here. I still managed to get out and look around and even go see the Mucha exhibit which is about 3 minutes from my house, and more importantly, 3 minutes from my bathroom. The artwork was really fantastic and seeing it, along with a lot of other pieces in nearby galleries, has me aching to start painting again. I have nearly filled up a small sketchbook with pen and graphite drawings, some of which I will post soon. I enjoy doing them immensely, but I just can't 'say' all that I wish to in such a small and limited medium. This city is looming and soaring. The streets cut narrow slashes in centuries-old stone. The sides of buildings seem to have their own light source, the ornate carvings almost twist and move with life. The statues assert themselves into the air above the streets where they idly hold up massive archways and balconies, or just keep watch over the city.
Most of my time is spent in class or preparing for it. The two instructors really pack a lot of work into a day, and we are already into our 4th student teaching lesson, which take a lot preparation. If they only take a little preparation, as I found out today, they can leave one nearly hyperventilating with anxiety in front of a class. Luckily, my spiritual gift is b.s.ing so I was able to make it work, but this had an interesting effect on me. Rather than self back-pats and the usual smugness, I vowed to work extra hard for tomorrow's lesson and really nail it, which had been my attitude up until one of my roommates had a birthday and we stayed out a little too late. I guess this is what a lot of people would have learned when they were spending heaps of money on a college education. Whatever, I'm just happy to finally be applying myself in the classroom.
But Prague really is incredible. The locals I do come into contact with are usually really nice and helpful. (About 99% of the people around the square are tourists. I've had more conversations in Spanish than in Czech.) I've had one authentic Czech meal and it was fantastic. Yes, the beer is more delicious than the waters of Lebanon, yea, even more than the sweet springs that floweth down from Mt. Hezebekiah. And cheap! At the grocery store (wake up Massachussetts, beer is, in fact, a grocery) a really good beer goes for about 35 cents, and they're about a third bigger than the ones in the states. (I need to quickly interject here that, for anyone wondering, I drink way less beer here than back home. I think the sense of purpose is causing me to cut out unneccesary drinking. I drink a lot of tea, eat a lot fresh baked bread, and do my homework. Unless it's someone's birthday. What am I, superhuman?) But the Czech meal was great. For starters I had garlic soup. This stuff was nearly radioactive - it was glowing and humming when they set it in front of me. Upon finishing it off, (I picked my bowl up and drank the broth like a good glutton will.) I momentarily achieved enlightenment, caught a glimpse of the end of the world and was made out of pure energy. Then I took a huge gulp of beer and was corporeal again, in the present, and the same old glutton. The main course was (drumroll) beer! Just kidding, it was goulash and dumplings. The dumplings were like slices of soft bread, and when plunged into the wonder that was the goulash (beef and gravy), became a sponge for all that wonder. Like the soul of a young child plunged into Harry Potter, book 1, such was the effect. For dessert, our beautiful and shy waitress put a plate of apple streudel in front of me. It had real cream on it and a flaky crust that requires the penning of a new adjective, something between crunchy and soft. I guess 'scrunchy' is taken. But whatever. It was really good. Since then I've been eating at home, with the exception of the odd bauguette from nearby bakeries.
Well, there's much more to say, but I really must get to my lesson plan. I've got a 40 minute 'Speaking' lesson with Intermediate students tomorrow. Maybe I'll have them describe their best meal. Or what would be the best substance to make a city out of. Rock and roll?
