Nikola and Adela

In Central Europe, the Devil, an Angel and Mikulaš, or St. Nicholas to us, come a-knocking on the night of December 6th. Children must sing a song to the trio, while the Devil watches, slinging a chain around menacingly. The angel hovers, and I guess is supposed to be reassuring. My father, who spent one year of his childhood in Austria, tells a story of being left in the car with his brothers on this night. The devil came by and howled at them, trying to open the car doors. All three characters started rocking the car back and forth. Luckily the doors were locked. Terrifying. Really.

In English lesson and or hour of pantomime and minorly English games, we make masks. "Sarah is scissors?" Adela asks. She doesn't seem to know any other verb in English besides the third person form of To Be. "Sarah, Nicole is scissors!" (Frown). Nicole meanwhile is pasting a child's foot into the sack that her Devil is carrying. "In his sack, small childrens," she cackles (Big smile). Let's just say Disney hasn't gotten a hold of the story of Mikulaš yet.

Madrid in November

Madrid in November. Cold. The Spanish of Spain is like snakes, all this "thhh". My Slovakian friend Zita lives in a cupboard and learns Spanish at an anarchist squat, and the rest of her classmates are Russian. "Thita," the instructor would say to her. The Russians squawked and laughed. We went to a sandwich shop near the museum. Hair of the dog, you can order a cana (that is can-ya by the way), which is a small beer, and they give you a tiny plate of something. Mussels, chorizo, bread. "Order the escalope," said Zita, "It means scallops." A sandwich arrived, stuffed thick with deep fried pork. "Woops," said Zita. The barman wrapped it and we gave it to a thin old man, begging on the corner of Retiro Park. 'Grathias!" He said, a look of joy on his face. This surprised me, cuz once I tried to give a French Canadian begging some maple sugar candy he looked disgusted. Maybe he didn't like sweets. When I had a look at the Presidential Palace, there was a street violinist playing the theme song from Titanic. Mucho Dramatico.

Svatba means Wedding

Petr and Teresa got married over the weekend at a Chateau near Plzen. There was a band from Prague, the lead singer looked like young Elvis Costello, and they played the Beatles, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Dusty Miller. But they also played a lot of Slovak and Czech songs from the 70's and 80's, and as I danced, I watched the room full of people, singing along passionately, like maybe we did to Madonna at Putney School assembly hall dance parties, only this time, I hadn't a clue what these songs were.
When you watch three people step up and down repeatedly on three chairs, to emphasize something in a song you don't understand, and the crowd is laughing hysterically, you feel a bit like an anthropologist from a far away land, so far removed from the culture at hand, that you just might jot down some factual notes, or document with a camera.

But then again, it's not something shots of Becherovka can't fix :)
Watch a clip from one of these aformentioned songs:Madrid

My American friend moved from Prague to Berlin last weekend, and we drove her there. Her neighborhood, Neukölln --former West Berlin American sector--is like Little Turkey. It has one of the highest immigrant populations in the city. needless to say, there was kebab, tea houses, shawarma. Once, we saw some pretzels being sold on the street, to remind us where we were. And there was currywurst.


It rained all weekend, and the punks -- for which Eastern Germany has a reputation -- were partying under overhangs in the city center. Some even had a little fire going in a can.
We walked copiously, visited the Brandenberg Gate, got soaked, saw the wall at Checkpoint Charlieand the DDR Museum. Intersected the Berlin Marathon (those people were soaked) ate falafel, went home.

Going through the wall at Check Point Charlie



A Brazillian drum band played here as encouragement.

Prague and around

1. Natasha was visiting from Saint Petersburg through the social phenomenon www.couchsurfing.org Naturally, we found a place to throw daggers.
2. The only place a resident peacock could escape small children--atop the electricty shed.
3. Prague TV tower at night
4. Dog surveys the city, Karlovy Vary.

Some recent pictures

First three are Karlovy Vary, today, in the dull drizzle. Second two are on top of a nearby mountain. Sixth is the old military training ground which is now offices and the public library.

People's hobbies 1: Orienteering

Orienteering, or racing from one spot to another with a map and compass, was developed in the early 20th century by the Swedish military. Orienteering has since transitioned into a sport, and you can find competing clubs in every country, though it still remains most popular in Scandinavia.

Czechs also seem to love this sport, and last Saturday we went to see what it was all about: we entered the childrens category, 3.5 kilometers on foot.
"Should take us 1/2 an hour" we sneered. The electronic start screeched, and we were off, pelting through a pine forest while people in funny wind-breaker type clothes were combing the underbrush everywhere around us, looking for their coordinates, labeled by an internationally recognized orange and white flag.

For someone who can't read maps (me) every giant hill came as a surprise. It often happens that you run up something, desperately looking for the next point behind a rock pile, which the "clue board" held onto your wrist by elastic shows with coded symbols, and you realize it's in a totally different place, up a totally different hill. 3.5 kilometers in hilly terrain? Turns out it's killer.

Five kids entered our category, and we managed to come in 3rd, after 56 minutes of ragged breathing, drenched sneakers, wild-eyed searching and sprinting over wet logs. Seeing as there were two of us, this wasn't exactly the quick finish we'd envisioned.

No matter. Old men finished the race sooner, and some awfully fit participants were racing as much as 12 kilometers with more than 20 coordinates to find. One woman finished with two giant mushrooms in hand, already designing her post-race dinner. Sport drink was handed out, and beer was for sale, and some older men changed their underpants in plain view, as I hear is the custom in Europe.

So, in sum, a race that uses your head. Or as a kid in a Youtube video puts it: "It's not like a cross country race where you're just blasting, it's a whole nother experience."

Things cooked and wrapped up by grandmothers

There is something ingenious about grandmothers wrapping up food. My own g-ma was a fastidious tin foil salvager--judging by the foil's wrinkles and loss of sheen, my sandwich was the 17th that had been protected by that malleable metal.

But the two Marie's here (Michal's grandmothers have the same name) are on a higher level of salvage. This past spring, I received walnut berry cake, skillfully wrapped in layers of bread bag, carefully snuggled into an empty Kleenex container, held tight with a giant rubber band.

Likewise, when I opened the fridge yesterday, I found a plastic tub that once held grapes, full of a special meat and soy patty,(Karbonatky) covered and lined inside by plastic bread bag. The whole thing rubber banded in place like a little girl's pony tail.
A large cake box, greasily addressed to Michal, held a surprisingly benign looking hill of white rolls. Turns out they're Buchty, sweet bread rolls filled with a thick plum jelly. Heated up, they're pretty delicious.

Never judge a book by its cover, or could it be the other way around?

Back in the Blogosphere

Holy crow, a summer away from Wood Sorrel. I feel unfaithful. September begins in 42 hours, and while somehow still jet lagged, I have managed to get drenched at least twice here in the Czech Republic's idea of late summer. Feels like this season is done, especially in Karlovy Vary where the temp has leveled off at 53 degrees during the day.

Well, as long as I'm not traveling, swimming, herding small children around, eating poutine, sun-burning, sushi camping, eating sweet corn, listening to crying babies and traveling for long distances in cars with them, I might as well BLOG!

Below you'll find a selection of choice photos from the Summer I just had. (New Hampshire, Maine, North Carolina, Quebec and Czech Republic.)

Farm Camp

It's been hot in New Hampshire this summer! The little kids thought putting their face in the fan was great fun. Last week we used calendula flowers for soap making.

Collage

These photos are some of my recent collages from the June show at Muddum Gallery.