I’m A Gypsy?

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Back in Prague, doors open…a gypsy girl sits down beside me at a bus stop…flirting…wanting me to listen to lively music in her cell phone. I smile and she is encouraged…she smiles widely…waving back at me through the windows of her departing bus.

Later after many bad looks from faces peering at me through narrow eyes, I finally realize I am being taken for Romany…in this country not a good thing for me…it is jarring…who am I…how do I look to these people? In this country, Gypsies are regarded with hostility and open discrimination and on a train to Krakow I experience part of the why when a gypsy family corners me in the hallway… aggressively yelling into my face…demanding money…no way…I am determined.

Later at Oswiecim Poland, called Auschwitz by the Germans, I find out that half a million gypsies were incinerated during World War II by the Nazis.

Czech Jazz in Cesky Krumlov

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In Prague, we phone the Chinese embassy and they suggest coming for an interview after which they would allow a visa in one week’s time to allow for the processing and paperwork. Because the embassy kept our passports for Visa registration we couldn’t leave the country as planned so we retreated to cooler Cesky Krumlov, a medieval town in the mountains in southwest Czech Republic to spend a couple days in a lovely pension owned by a charming old German man and his wife who served us breakfast in their backyard each morning. Cesky was hosting a three day Czech jazz festival so we heard some great renditions of the Beatles and BB King…the naturally conservative Czech people politely sitting…getting the hang of the Blues.

Young Czech Prime Minister

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The Prime Minister of the Czech Republic, Stanislav Gross, is 32 years old and looks 20! We are realizing how little information we have gotten in the US in the last 15 years about the dynamics in and among Europe and the former communist satellites! “Our new Czech Prime Minister is very clever,” the young waitress says. “He and I went to the same school and we all liked his ideas and his speaking ability.” But I made the catastaphic mistake of calling her country “Czechoslovakia!” “You have made a big mistake, she says,” because we have been the Czech Republic since 1992!”

I have to quote a description out of “History Of The Present” by Timothy Garton Ash…written in the 1994: “The sleeping beauty of Central Europe has not merely been awakened by a prince’s velvet kiss. She has put on black tights and gone off to the disco. While Budapest developed gradually into a modern consumer city starting in the 1970’s, Prague has emerged from its time warp suddenly and explosively. Instead of the magical museum, lovely but decaying, there is color, noise, action: street performers, traffic jams, building works, thousands of young Americans…would-be Hemingways or Scott Fitzgeralds…millions of German tourists, betting shops, reserved parking places for France Telecom and Mitsubishi Corporation, beggars, junkies, Skpenritter of all countries, car alarms, trendy bars, gangsteers, whores galore, Bierstuben, litter, graffiti, video shops and Franz Kafka T-shirts.” We didn’t notice any American kids in this year of 2004…maybe they have moved on to other frontiers…the son of a friend brought one back to the US to marry a few years ago.

Built between the 11th and 18th centuries, the Old Town, the Lesser Town and the New Town speak of the great architectural and cultural influence enjoyed by this city since the Middle Ages. The many magnificent monuments, such as Hradcani Castle, St Vitus Cathedral, Charles Bridge and numerous churches and palaces, built mostly in the 14th century under the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles IV. The historic center of Prague is an UNESCO World Heritage Site.

We took a city walking tour and when I commented to our leader that she knew a lot about the city’s architecture and architecture in general, she shared that yes, she was a civil engineer…but that it wasn’t her first choice because when the new government vetted the former communist members, of which her father was one, she said she was kept, by association, from choosing what she wanted to study in school. (It was common for people to belong to the communist party in order to get a good job, but not believe in it.) She said she would have preferred social science and psychology but she was told she had a choice of civil engineering. Bob thinks there is more to this story but it is a fact that the Czech parliament voted in a “lustration”law, that Vaclav Havel reluctantly signed, to vet all former Communist members. In any case, her husband is an artist and she showed us little noticed public art and memorials…like the small burial plot of a student shot by police in an early resistance demonstration and who is now honored as a hero on each anniversary. We get the feeling there are cautious watchers of this new democracy.
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Ripped Off In Prague

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My medications, that had gotten held up in Custums in Frankfurt, finally arrived in Berlin via fedex. We had planned on taking the train through Austria and Hungary but now we are out of time. We arrived in Prague on the 11th after a scenic train ride along the Labe River and through Dresdon. We had earlier also planned a stop in this town that was totally obliterated during WWII but we kept pushing on in order to make good our train reservations to St. Petersburg Russia.

Riding a hot crowded subway in Prague someone pushes against me from behind…pushes against my backpack…an underground train full of jostling young men…but at our stop the train doors won’t open…I am pushed again as unfamiliar sweaty hands and arms reach around me from behind and tug and pull at the jammed door…I am pushed again and again and finally squeeze through the barely open doors into the cool air of the underground…but something is wrong…I drop my backpack to the ground to find it open and my Mac laptop gone!

My best stuff has been ripped off and I am suddenly bereft…jangled…this woman on whose bathroom wall hangs a poster from the 60’s mandating us all to “Sell All Thou Hast and Buy a Flower!” The next 10 days are a frantic maze of memories of telephones that won’t respond to those free US 800 numbers, emails to banks heading off misused financial information, insurance companies..the American Express. After three days of looking we finally find a Mac wholesaler who agrees to sell us another laptop…but the Visa computers are down…so we return the next day with an American Express card.

Tip: Keep your backpack on the front of you instead of on your back.