Hello readers. I'm still alive. Alive
and in Prague.
Why Prague some of you are
asking. Why not Italy? I thought you were bordering on obsessive
when it came to Italy.
I
am here to do a TEFL – Teaching English as
a Foreign Language - course. My cousin Ali first suggested the idea
when I arrived in England when I said that I wanted to do some
traveling, especially in Europe. Apparently there's a fair amount of
demand for native English speakers in non-English countries to help
people improve their language skills, especially business people who
find it useful in the corporate world.
While
searching around for places that do the TEFL workshops I saw that
Prague looked like it had a great program, one that wasn't that much
more expensive than doing it in England, and from what I read it was
both a really neat place and low cost-of-living place to be. It was
also one of the cities that I really wanted to see, so I decided to
go for it. The workshop is from Jan. 16th
to Feb. 10th,
and at the end I'll get a TEFL certificate that will enable me to
work in all sorts of places, including at the school where I take the
course. Assuming I pass. If I fail I won't have the certificate or a
job offer.
So,
during the after-Christmas letdown I started packing to come here and
was amazed by how much stuff I managed to accumulate since crossing
the pond.
The
hardest thing about packing is trying to figure out what you can
possibly live without, and I find the biggest debates regarding items
varies a lot from person to person. I my case it was my art supplies
and my blank books/sketchpads. It took me a long time to persuade
myself that bringing my all my oil paints and my big wooden palette
just wasn't a feasible option. After finally putting them aside I had
to tackle which books to bring. It's impossible to know which book
will be the right size and shape and have the right sort of paper in
it for when sudden inspiration for a very specific piece strikes me.
What if I'm unprepared for that moment and lose the opportunity to
make a great masterpiece? Well, I had to judge which ones would most
likely suite many sudden bursts of creativity. I wish I had brought
my palette knife though.
I
flew here late Thursday night and was picked up a the airport by
somebody from the school, which getting to the student flat so much
easier.
For
those who feel like pulling up google maps, the student flat is
located at Nad Palatou in Prague 5, and the school is located at U
Pujcovny 2. I already know from walking around looking at signs that
Czech is going to be challenging for me. At least when I was
struggling to learn some Italian I had a bit of French as well to
help me figure out some of the words and patterns, but Czech is a
whole new ballgame. Lots of letters with accent symbols.
So, I
was taken to the student flat, shown to my room, given an envelope of
information along with my keys, then left to my own devices. The flat
is very much like a college dorm: lots of simple rooms with white
walls, a twin bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and a warning not to put
pictures on the walls as repainting is expensive. Each floor has a
bathroom marked as being either men's or women's. The one on my floor
is for men, but I've ignored the sign and used it anyway: it was two
sinks and two mirrors and an actual bathtub whereas the one for women
has only one sink and a shower stall. The room had a strong perfumey
floral smell, like walking into a Yankee Candle store and being
assaulted by thousands of oddly scented candles all at once, though
not quite as potent. I may have to buy a pillow and decent blanket as
both are rather worn out.
Thus
far living here has been like living in a haunted house: I see signs
that there are other people here but I haven't actually seen anybody.
There is food in the kitchen along with dirty dishes that appear and
disappear, lights are sometimes left on in the bathroom (and a
dripping faucet to my great irritation when I wake in the middle of
the night), and pairs of shoes left by the door. I'm hoping more
students will soon arrive and add a bit of life to the place. Right
now it's very lonely.
I
started unpacking my stuff (my suitcase was labeled heavy, as usual,
due to my inability to abandon my precious blank books), trying to
bring some life to the creepy white empty room and soon realized that
I had made a great mistake. I didn't follow a key bit of advice laid
down by the Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy regarding traveling: I
had failed to bring a towel with me. No intersetellar strag would
ever trust me enough to offer me a ride now that I hadn't even
adhered to advice that sparked its own holiday (May 25th).
Also: I really wanted to wash my face and brush my teeth.
It
was my power of the pen shirt to the rescue again. This shirt has
lasted amazingly well for all the hell I've put it through. It has
often served as my sleepshirt/towel for pre-bed cleansing rituals,
shirt that can be safely worn while doing an ink drawing, and general
really-comfy-to-wear-especially-when-sick-with-a-cold shirt. I won't
bore you with a full description of what Power of the Pen is:
basically it was (and I believe still is) an interscholastic creative
writing competition for middle schoolers in Ohio, and was really
awesome. I have a couple of medals I won and this shirt, which I
bought when I made it to the state level. I didn't win any medals at
state level. State level was tough. This shirt has somehow survived
nearly twelve years of abuse and the P.O.P logo is even still
decipherable.
It
was a mostly sleepless night which I expected. Happily for me I
received a kindle for Christmas (thanks Mom and Dad!) which I have
full of books to read, including several of my comfort books.
The
following day I ventured out in search of food. I did bring some
things with me, which was a very good idea. Here is my own personal
advice for travelers: bring breakfast items with you. It doesn't have
to be anything major, I don't imagine eggs would travel very well,
but just something you can eat in the morning. It's amazing how much
better the world feels when you wake up in a strange place but have
the guarantee of some food. I brought with me two bags of oats which
make an amazing porridge, and a bag of Italian coffee my cousin gave
me for Christmas. Coffee! Real coffee automatically makes the day
better, and the smell of fresh coffee was able to cover up the Yankee
Candle smell of my room.
Fortified
with a nice bowl of porridge and a cup of coffee I ventured out into
the world. In my welcome envelope there was what looked like a bus
ticket and something else similar that I have no idea what it's for
since there's no English on it. I went to wait nervously for the bus
that instructions (also from the envelope) said would take me into
town to where the big grocery store is. As the other people got on
the bus I suddenly felt that it was desperately important for me to
have the full huge Prague map they'd given me in case I got lost,
which I happen to be very very good at. So like the frightened little
coward I was I scurried back to the flat and proceeded to struggle
desperately with my key trying to get the front door unlocked.
This
seems to be some sort of rite of passage with me. When I'm in a new
place feeling nervous and lonely I have a struggle involving a key
and my door. During my first week at boarding school the moment that
I finally broke down and had a thorough homesick cry was when I
couldn't seem to get my door to open. My key also wouldn't work when
I studied in Italy, but that was a case of them giving me the wrong
key. I also got locked out of Tam's house recently due to a badly cut
key. In this case the key was just fine, I just had to struggle and
get angry at the damn door until I finally figured out the correct
sequence for direction to hold the key in the lock while pushing at
just the right moment.
I
managed to retrieve the map that I would be too embarrassed to
actually open in public due to its large size and bravely returned to
the bus stop. When it arrived I was relieved to find that the ticket
did indeed fit perfectly in the machine on the bus and was easily
stamped and validated.
Once
in town I easily found the TESCO. TESCO is an evil chain, but at
least it's a familiar evil chain. I managed to find some basic food
substances (and a towel) easily to my relief. Prices are going to
take a little while for me to get used to. The English pound was
close enough to the U.S. Dollar that it wasn't hard for me to guage
the price of items. However, one U.S. Dollar is equal to about 20
koruna. So my purchases for that trip cost about 450 koruna, which
is not a number I'm used to seeing for such minor purchases.
I
also discovered that like many places that are not America you only
get a plastic bag if you ask for one. I realized this after I had
paid for my stuff and the cashier had started on the next person. I
was too embarrassed and didn't know the Czech words to ask for one so
I sort of hastily wrapped everything up in my towel and scurried
away. I was able to stick some flat things like the package of salami
and cheese into my shoulder bag, but there was now way I could
gracefully carry a can of beans, jam, some milk, a bag of chips, and
a towel gracefully. It was probably glaringly obvious that I was a
tourist, or just weird.
I
made it back with my food and was able to have a decent lunch, so I
called it a win.
So
that's me mostly settled in. More posts will come once the real
adventures begin.
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