Wednesday October 5, 9:28 pm, The Czech Spirit

I have never been so mystified by a place as I am by Prague. Such a complicated history would warrant that, I suppose. It’s strange to think about the fact that only 100 years ago, this land was under the rule of the Habsburg Dynasty.

I seem to obsess over the history here. Maybe because that was the lens through which I was introduced to the Czech Republic, with introduction seminars about the founding legends and revolutions. But I think it’s mostly because the past feels all too recent. I don’t mean to insinuate a lack of progress – I believe it’s quite the opposite. I think I am seeing this country too soon in its self-reconstruction. But I am grateful for that. Is this how people felt visiting the United States 150 or 200 years ago? I gain a sense of self-importance, witnessing this country in its slow progression. How strange that I feel more American when I am not there.

I want to say that I like Czech culture. By no means do I dislike it, but it’s not something I could adopt as my own; you don’t see many gluten-free Californian Latinas having a beer with every meal and smoking half a pack in between. But now I realize I wouldn’t want to continue living in a world without the crisp, fizzy joy of a cold glass of Gambrinus. Or the sound of horses clomping down the cobblestone road. You don’t get that in downtown Manhattan.

I thought New Yorkers were mean until I came here. Every local I talk to claims that Czechs actually aren’t mean, you just have to get to know them. This I believe – I know they don’t hold malice in their hearts. They aren’t even necessarily cold; more like lukewarm. Strangers don’t smile at each other. Rather, they exchange a customary blank-faced dobry den. Children here must not learn the same “don’t talk to strangers” lesson I did. At least nobody tells me to smile.

Czech humor is something I’ll never understand. It’s sarcastically ironic past the point of joking. My face of confusion prompts the disclaimer “Czech humor,” every time (usually in an apologetic tone).

I’m okay with not understanding aspects of Czech culture. One thing I do understand, and admire, is the individuality it celebrates. This is apparent in the dancing culture, and even on the trams. Many of the tram cars have a line of single seats running down the length of either side of the tram. This is much different from NY subways, which have bench-style seating. I have to turn around to talk to a friend – sometimes it’s easier to not talk at all. This seems to have been the intention, since I’ve been shushed more than once. Electronic music dominates the nightlife scene in the Czech Republic, and even the dancing is individual. People disperse evenly throughout the dance floor and claim the space around them for their repetitive head-bobbing and swaying. It almost looks like the warm-ups in the beginning of a middle school gym class. Though I’m not a fan of electronic music, it feels wonderful not having to worry about a random guy trying to dance with me. Czechs are largely nonreligious, which is not typical for a European nation. They’re much more logical in their beliefs – Ježíšek (similar to the baby Jesus, their figure for Christmas) has no image attached to it, because no one has actually seen it. As a nonreligious, logical (most of the time), independent young woman, I truly love these aspects of Czech culture.

Even though I haven’t quite placed my finger on the spirit of Czechs in Prague, I see it in everything they do and feel it all around me. Sometimes I’ll be mistaken for a local Czech, which is a sort of compliment to me. Maybe by December I’ll figure out česká podstata.