Prague 9/23

I’ve been in this city for 24 days, which is kind of freaking me out. It’s already gone so fast, I don’t want the rest of the trip to move at this break neck speed. I want these four months to last as long as the build up did, but god knows it won’t feel that way. This summer was a long, slow, miserable eternity. This semester is going to be a blissful eye blink. It’s not fair, I’m trying not to dwell on it.

I’m also hesitant to say I’ve developed a routine, as the first two weeks were spent going to class 5 days a week, and now I have class 3 days a week, and even that’s really sporatic. We have a wicked amount of free time, which I’m terrified I might be squandering. You know, I was so proud of myself for throwing out my fears, moving to a new city, etc and now I’ve just found something else to worry about – how little time I have and how I’m not using it right. Anyway, I’m not supposed to be dwelling on that. But even despite not having a solid routine yet, there are certain things that are pretty consistent.

Days when I have class in the morning, I wake up an hour and a half before I need to be there, which gives me ample time to get dressed and duck into one of the potravinies (that’s my bastardized English plural of a word that I’m pretty sure is already plural in Czech) where I’ll grab a couple apples or peaches to snack on throughout the day. I found out that eating on the metros isn’t allowed, which explains some of the funny looks I was getting, but I usually have enough time with my walk and being there a little early to inhale at least one piece of fruit. Having a couple apples stashed away in my purse gives me something to snack on when I’m walking around, too, which saves me from the abundance of pastries in the tourist areas and also tides me over between meals. I’ve always been one of those people who snacks between meals and then eats small portions at dinner or lunch, and after the last 9 months of stomach problems, the habit’s been reinforced. Though the amazing Czech food is doing its damnedest to break me of that. After class there’re really two things I do, and they aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive. There’s been a lot of hanging out with the guy I started seeing, in fact every day but Tuesday and Thursday because he has a prior commitment those evenings. We usually eat dinner together, either out because we’ve been doing something in the center or at his place – I like to cook, though his mother’s leftovers far outshine anything I’ve been able to make. Ever. Including the turkey for last year’s Christmas party. If the day’s been busy or full, we just go back to his place for video games, TV, and a prodigious amount of cuddles. Days when I haven’t done anything in particular, I like to go out and do something touristy, with or without him. In the last week, I went to the Museum of Young Art, Charles Bridge, there was a hike with the program to Czech Switzerland (don’t ask, I can’t get a straight answer why it’s called that despite being firmly couched inside Czech borders) where parts of the Narnia films were shot, and spent a couple hours in the Botanical Gardens.

Sundays tend to be “Cydney Days,” which I like. Don’t get me wrong, I love every moment with that certain individual, but it’s impractical to live in each other’s pockets, I don’t want to stifle his social life, and I can still value my alone time despite being pretty infatuated with him. Last Sunday I slept in, got lunch with my roommates, and then spent the afternoon reading a comic in a park. I almost read the thing cover to cover, and only quit when I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore. And then I just moved to a quaint little café where I had coffee and cake for dinner, and they didn’t play any music younger than 1952. This Sunday (today) I caught up on my internet, Skyped home, and then ran a short errand. I had to replace my headphones, which was done simply enough at a Datart (it appears to be like a Czech Best Buy). I was starving, though, and found a cute little Czech restaurant with no English on their menu that was tucked into the bottom of a building around the corner from the Tesco. I don’t speak much Czech, but I apparently know enough to politely order in restaurants. Which I will never stop getting a kick out of. I read a good chunk of my comic book, then got gelato down the street (like a fat ass) whilst walking around doing a little window shopping. I want to continue my gift giving, but everything in the really touristy areas seems too manufactured to have much value. I popped home, was walked through how to turn on the heater in our place, and have spent the evening reading. It’s been pleasant.

I’ve mentioned on facebook and in conversations that the food here is amazing, but I really ought to go into more detail. The food here is amazing. Everything just tastes so much better, I don’t even understand why! There are a couple things here I develop serious cravings for, and I better learn how to make them before I leave, because there’s not exactly a huge demand for Czech food in the grand old US of A. So my favorite is, far and away, svičková (read “svitch-co-va”) which is marinated beef in a sweet and savory cream sauce served with cranberries, whipped cream, and these badass things called knedliky that are sort of like dumplings but not in a way most Americans think of them. Knedliky are slices of a really dense sweet tasting bread that sops up sauce like a boss, and they also come with guláš (read like in English, “goulash“) which is also pretty bomb, if you get it from the right places. After that, I love the  smažený sýr (read “smazhenee seer”) which is probably the best culinary idea anyone has ever had after “lets wrap this fish in some rice.” Someone, somewhere, may he be languishing in the presence of a couple fat angels in heaven right now, looked at a chunk of cheese and said “You know what this needs? It needs to be fried.” Seriously. They take a block of cheese, usually cut into wedges, batter and fry it, then serve boiled potatoes doused in butter on the side. Have you heard anything better in your life. Fried cheese. Guys. FRIED CHEESE. It’s great. And it’s a really meal. No one looks at you funny when you say “I would like battered and friend dairy for dinner with a side of starch” here. It’s amazing. This alone makes me never want to leave. There are other things that are pretty awesome – in fact, I don’t think I could go through the list of all the great things I’ve had here. The only mediocre thing I’ve had is the pizza, and there’s a place right below us that does a pretty good impression of American pizza. Oh, and the pastries. Oh my god, anything sweet and sugary here is to die for. There are these great things that I can’t remember the name of that’s basically sweet dough wrapped around a fatass wooden dowel, baked over hot coals, and then dunked in cinnamon sugar. There are crepes every which way, and you can’t throw a rock without hitting fresh bread. And there’s a farmers market at the park right next to our building every Wednesday, so after class I can go get a giant bowl of hot potato gratin, chase it with fresh goat milk, and top all that off with a pastry full of baked apples. I have found mouth-heaven.

Bonus Observations:

• My hair is getting way too long
• I am not doing any of the course work, and I'm finding it very hard to care
• Holy frack, I'm dating a Czech guy. Didn't exactly see that one coming.