High Holidays in Prague

Again, another post about events of semester's past. The topic tonight is my experience observing the High Holidays in Prague. With the help of my pops, I came in touch with a Progressive congregation here in Prague for the High Holidays, Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. The interesting thing about this synagogue is that it is almost nomadic. The people are mostly the same but they hold services in different synagogues. I really liked this because I was able to go to two very different synagogues: the Pinkas Synagogue and the Libeň Synagogue. All I knew about the services was that they were to be in three languages: Czech, Hebrew, and thankfully English. I love doing the whole Jewish thing, especially on the holiest of days, but I do not think I could have made it through services in just Czech and Hebrew.

Services for Rosh Hashana were held at the Libeň Synagogue, right off the Palmovka metro stop. Two friends, Max and Jake, joined me for the occasion. In true Rossoff fashion, we were fifteen minutes late. Then on top of that, I only had directions to get off the metro at Palmovka, nothing passed that. We then wandered a bit less than 40 years through the not so desert like streets of Prague 8. Finally we stumbled upon a building with two patrolling police officers and the Star of David on it; we were in the right place. Luckily they had not started yet. We were greeted by some English speaking members of the congregation, a girl studying in Italy who just happened to be in Prague for Rosh Hashana, and we exchanged some some dobrý den's (hellos) with others. As the service started and went on for a bit, it felt comforting. I was half way around the world from even my home away from home in Evanston, let alone from Morristown, and could still sing melodies I had learned growing up. They of course had their own regional twists but overall they remained as I remembered. When it came time for the Torah service, my friends and I were asked to make aliyah (I think that's what it's called), and Max and I did. But before I went up there I had this terrible realization, “I have no idea what my father's Hebrew name is.” I thought and thought and thought but nothing came to mind. Ultimately I settled on Moshe, or Moses. Why Moses? I rationalized that he is one of the forefathers of our religion, so in a sense, we are all Moses's children. So that is what I told the rabbi who then chanted “Natan ben Moshe.” Obviously looking back, I probably should have chosen Adam or Abraham, Isaac, or Jacob. They all would have worked, hell I think my idea worked. I do not know. I hope that is not too sacrilegious. I do not mind if I broke a tiny Jewish law, that is what Yom Kippur is for, and for that aliyah I got it right! (I called my dad that day after services and asked him. His Hebrew name, or rather Yiddish name, is Fivel. Anywho, so reciting the prayers for the pre- and post reading of the torah was quite exhilarating. Jeez, my knees were buckling I was so nervous. Normally in a room full of complete strangers, I do not care if I mess up, which I did but only slightly, or anything because I will walk out and never see them again. I think I was so nervous because this was such a practiced yet such a new experience for me. I was in Prague at a random congregation's services reciting prayers in front of everyone. Holy poop is right! I was relieved to be done and the handshakes I received while walking back to my seat in the last row were very reassuring and comforting.

Next came the rabbi's sermon. She was a younger rabbi, probably in her mid 30s, from California. I am not sure if she came from a congregation there. However, first I must tell you that her sermon was twice as long as it should have been. While my friends and I understood her words directly, in English, 99% of the people were completely lost so there was a woman standing next to the rabbi translating every line into Czech. Next, her sermon was a bit kitschy. The topic was something I had never thought about before, the realistic psychological state of Abraham, but her delivery felt very gift wrapped. I do not want to brag but my father is a pretty smart guy who writes pretty interesting sermons, I bet I would even stay awake if I had heard his sermons this year, so to hear this very gimmicky sermon was a little annoying. I want to go back to the sermon's topic, though. Have you ever thought about this? Here is a guy, Abraham, working in his father's idol shop who decides to destroy everything in it because he feels this higher calling to a different God. His actions are founded in nothing, based in no previous experience with this new God. I mean, I understand God must really have been trying to get his message across through Abraham but it does seem a little crazy if you think about it rationally in terms of his time period. The next example cited by the rabbi was the story of Abraham sacrificing Isaac for this new God. Again, Abraham needed to prove his faith in this new, previously unheard of God, and decided that his son was the necessary sacrifice. Luckily that angel floated down and stopped this guy because he was out of his mind! Seriously, those are some crazy beliefs, needing to kill your own son in order to prove allegiance. Wowzas. I guess you can say that the rabbi's sermon made some sort of impact on me as I am still thinking about it two months later.

Rosh Hashana services were very nice, as were Kol Nidre and Yom Kippur services. I think what made them particularly special were the structures in which they were held. The Libeň synagogue is an incredibly old and empty building. There is no bathroom, no heating; it is really just a shell of a building with a bimah and some broken windows. Not more than fifteen minutes into the service, I decided that it was one of the most beautiful synagogues I had ever seen. There was nothing to it but there was so much beauty to be found in the vacancy. I was recently given a pamphlet on the history of the synagogue, something impossible to find on the internet. The synagogue was shut down and used for storage at the beginning of World War II and was not returned to the Jewish community until the fall of communism in 1989. I guess it is a great, yet incredibly cliché, metaphor for the enduring nature of the Jewish people. There are apparently plans to renovate the synagogue and make it functional with a permanent congregation. No matter how long the suffering may last, we will always brave the storm and rebuild. I know less about the Pinkas Synagogue, sorry, or maybe not, you may be tired of reading by now. The Pinkas Synagogue is known for having the names of all of the Holocaust's Jewish victims written on the walls. I was definitely taken aback to see all of these 80,000 names. It is unbelievable what happened and that synagogue does a good job of peacefully reminding its inhabitants of the history's dreadful reality. Services here were nice, nothing special other than the setting. Also, I was able to complete the fast with ease. I laid in bed, watched a lot of Scrubs or Shameless, I cannot recall, but my 6” Subway sandwich from the 6 pm the night before lasted me all the way until dinner time. I am proud of myself being able to fast here. Granted, I obviously avoided any temptations like the plague but was able to face it well mentally.

The Jewish population here in the Czech Republic has seen better days. At the beginning of the Holocaust, over 92,000 Jewish people lived in Prague alone; two-thirds of them were murdered within the next few years. By 1945, only 15,000 Jewish people lived in the Czech Republic, half of them soon moved to Israel. Today, there are 3,000 people registered as Jewish in the country, 1,600 of them live in Prague. It is tough to say whether the Czech Republic will ever get back one of the most vibrant Jewish communities in all of Europe, probably not. Nothing is overt but people are definitely still getting used to the idea of seeing Jewish people as equals. Anti-semitism held up through the communist era pretty well. It is weird to think of a community not being seen as real people, as different, and the Jewish community is only one of hundreds to whom this has and will continue to happen. Rules of political correctness do not allow anyone to say something against others. Hell, in this country you can get up to three years in prison for publicly denying the Holocaust or parading Nazi ideology. I guess that is what it takes to make prejudices go away over time. Because it is so taboo to have opposing views, no one voices them, and eventually they pass on without teaching anyone their true feelings. Yeah, it is definitely a good thing when that happens. The world will be much more accepting when that happens.

Anywho, I think that is enough for tonight. Thanks very much for reading!

All the best,

Than

Václav Cílek, The Man

The following entry is a description of my reactions to one of my professors, Václav Cílek, and his class entitled “European Mentality.” He will most likely never read this post, so do not think I am brown-nosing. I am simply reflecting the opinions shared by many of this great man.

Really quickly, I would like you, he/she who reads this (thanks by the way!), to click on this link, the Wikipedia page for Václav Cílek: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vaclav_Cilek. It is not a very long page but the first sentence about him describes how cool he is. It is written: “Václav Cílek (born 1955 in Brno) is Czech geologist, climatologist, writer, philosopher, science popularizer and translator of Tao and Zen texts.” Not only is he a leading expert in geology and climatology, he also translates Tao and Zen texts. That might be the coolest addendum to any biographical statement ever. Cílek has written countless articles and books which are revered as intellectual genius. He shows incredible humility in his lectures, alluding to his published book on the Charles Bridge or his television series on the lost caves of the Czech Republic, but never letting his work define his being. One day as we walked down Národní street, one of the main streets in New Town Prague, a man approached Professor Cílek. After a brief and very smiley conversation, we asked our professor who the man was: “Was that one of your fans, professor?” we said jokingly. He was very embarrassed to answer our question affirmatively. The fan had recognized him from his aforementioned television show on caves. Incredible. There are not many things we quote from Cílek (though we learn a lot a lot) but the fan story and the next one are favorites. As we sat in the grass one day during class, he lectured us on Václav Havel, the first president of the new Czech Republic, as his birthday had been in that week. He told us all about Havel's office calling him for certain consultations on such and such an issue. Then he said our favorite line: “I was invited to Havel's 75^th birthday party but I did not go. I do not play the social games.” He is very in touch with himself, his likes, dislikes, and beliefs about the world. He believes in the energy of spaces, in apparitions, and very strongly against love locks (a couple will put a lock on a bridge or a fence to symbolize eternal love; Cílek hates them because they are mostly empty promises made by young people). European Mentality is based outside the classroom. Better yet, Prague is our classroom and our teacher knows a hell of a lot about his subject matter. Every class, save for two or three, this semester has been a cool field trip to a new part of Prague. Missing class is actually devastating; these field trips are amazing. If you do not mind, I want to share a select few stories from our trips.

One of the most interesting classes we have had our trip to a homeless art exhibit. If that sounds weird, then you are getting into the right mindset. It was incredibly weird. We walked for a while along the river in a random area just outside the city center until we came upon a construction site. Apparently, developers thought the area could be profitable so they started construction on a housing project, I think if I remember correctly. They quickly lost funding due to a lack of interest in the area and it became abandoned. Recently, people have started to leave pieces of “art” on these grounds. There was some graffiti, some photography, organized rubble and tires, and playing cards to give examples. A few sections were wrapped in VHS film that the artist had set free to shake in the wind. The empty tapes were then arranged in a cool way. When looking at the film, we were actually watching classic movies from our childhood! I am pretty sure The Lion King was there, Home Alone, etc. Classics. Another artist, or maybe the same person/s, had then taken pictures of the tapes, printed them on big coasters, and arranged those in an artistic way. It was all very natural and cool. Anyone who came added to the overall experience, there was nothing commercial about it at all. In one section of the grounds there was a little hut with a cloth door. The class was pretty hesitant about going near it for fear that an aggressor lay waiting behind the curtain but Cílek was anything but that. He turned to us and asked, “Do you know what to do when there is no door to knock on?” He started clapping, saying something, and then pulled back the sheet. We were all scared for his and our lives. Luckily, or maybe not luckily but just so, the inhabitant was not home. I think that class, only a few weeks into the semester, was when we really knew how awesome a professor Cílek would be. We had inklings of his genius but then it was definite that we were going to go way off the unbeaten path's unbeaten path, and we were going to love it.

We have gone on a lot of light and playful field trips, like the homeless art gallery, or the time we sat on the hills near Jinonice and Cílek talked all about public urination (one of my favorite lectures of all time), or the time we climbed under a bridge, like above us the highway, below the creaky grate catwalk under our feet was the river... yup, I should probably explain that one. Cílek took us on a tour of the abandoned port near Holešovice when we came upon a bridge. Professor turned to us and said that he would normally do something next with his Czech students but American students are normally not brave enough. We obviously demanded the contrary, so he took us to the base of the bridge. He hopped up onto a ledge, climbed up the ladder, and told us to follow if we wanted. We proceeded to walk over countless grates, holding onto the railing for dear life the whole way down and back. It was thrillingly nerve-wracking. It felt as though we could fall through into the river below at any moment. I have a feeling this sort of adventure might be frowned upon by parents and schools. It may or may not have been a little dangerous, but since nothing happened, it does not matter, it is all groovy. These are the types of little adventures he takes us on and they are always fun. On our recent visit to Vyšehrad, we walked through passed and talked about all of the standard sights. Then, in true Cílek fashion, he hopped the brick wall protecting people from falling onto the highway 50 feet below and motioned for us to follow. We stood where they used to import goods to the castle complex directly from the river as he explained the process of it to us. I like learning about things much more when they are right in front of me, when I can see them, hear them, and touch them; that is the way Cílek teaches.

One last short story about how awesome this man is comes from our lecture a week ago, Thanksgiving day, when we visited the Infant of Prague in the Church of Our Lady Victorious. The Infant of Prague is a tiny wax figurine of baby Jesus dressed immaculately and surrounded by lots and lots of gold. Supposedly, the Infant saved the city from being destroyed in war and by the plague. Because of its miracle powers, it has international fame and is a frequently visited church by Spanish and Italian believers who want to pay homage. Anyway, as the class approached the church, a cameraman was in a ready position and immediately started filming our professor. Cílek just went along with his business, in true Cílek form, and went on lecturing. Inside, he apologized for the cameramen, saying that Czech national television wanted to interview him but he refused, “so the least I could do was tell them where I would be.”

I do not wonder for a second why anyone would want to capture every word out of this man's mouth. The other night, I looked up Cílek on YouTube to see if he had any interviews in English. I found zero in English but listened to three or four in Czech. I could not understand 99% of what he was saying, after the greeting words from interviewer I could not keep up, but I listened to the whole interview. Cílek spoke about environmental policies. Again, I knew not a word he spoke, but he has this voice and sense of composure that is soothing in a way, and you know that what he is saying is prophetic. This is particularly funny for me to write because Cílek's least favorite topic is himself. He will tell us all about his archeological excavation project in the Sudan but only because we ask him to do so. Professor then takes that opportunity to speak about the people there, their interactions among their community, and their interactions with foreigners to teach us about them, not himself. He would probably dislike this entry. Cílek is an inspiring man who truly follows his heart, does things he wants to do, sees things he wants to see. Hell, what is cool about European Mentality is that most of the places we go are sights he just finds on his walks and thinks are interesting. They may not be the most significant places in Prague but they are unique to the area and Cílek is always able to find a humanistic lesson in them.

Cílek never brags so I guess I have to on his behalf. On one of the first days of class he told us that most of what a student learns in the classroom is not what is written on the board or assigned for homework. The student is most influenced by the teacher's attitude. Professor Cílek has taught me a great deal about how to walk through a city and really explore it. If something catches your eye that is not on the itinerary, who cares, goes see it. Walk through alleyways that seemingly lead to nowhere; some of them will prove to be nothing but down one of them lies a treasure chest of some sort. I have come to terms with my readiness to go home, all the Christmas lights and music just get me ready for my birthday (12/24) for which I am normally always home. I will be home again soon, which excites me, but it also means that I will probably never get to go an adventure with Václav Cílek again. I guess I can take solace in the fact that I still have a couple more classes with him. I am especially excited for our last trip, a nighttime visit to the Prague Castle, one of the most beautiful places on top of the city. It will be nice.

Anywho, thanks for reading. I'll post again very soon (as my completed journal assignment is due in less than a week!).

All the best,

Than

AC Sparta Praha vs. SK Slavia Praha

So you know how on ESPN or on Yahoo! News they show clips from a European soccer game where the fans look completely insane, lighting fires in the crowd, starting fights, getting arrested, etc? Believe it or not, that stuff actually happens at European soccer matches. Back on September 26, I witnessed a match between AC Sparta Praha and SK Slavia Praha. Some friends and I decided to go to the game an hour or so before the first whistle, little did we know that we were about to walk into an incredibly hostile yet vivacious environment. AC Sparta is Prague's best soccer club, its most recognized club, and its most followed club. The team has bred soccer stars such as Petr Čech and Tomáš Rosický, who play for Chelsea and Arsenal respectively. I am sure there are more stars to come from the team but I do not know enough about the sport to say definitively. SK Slavia, on the other hand, was apparently competitive five or so years back but now just cannot keep up with Sparta.

We arrive at the stadium a little late, hearing an incredible roar indicating a scored goal as we approached. Then the reality of our surroundings set in. As we stood at a security gate and were asking directions to the ticket booth, we were yelled at to move away from the fence. Three or four different men were then dragged out of the stadium by five police officers each, dressed in riot control gear. It felt like one of those Yahoo! videos: the men screaming the names of their team while the authorities did what they could to muffle their screams. It was at that point that we realized we were in for an experience. Eventually, we found the ticket booth, bought tickets for 130 kc each ($6.72... yeah, the exchange rate is awesome!), and made our way into the stadium. At that point, there were only a few minutes left in the first half so we did not try to push our way through the crowd to our assigned seats. We down to the lower section to find a huge section of empty seats right behind the goal. The upper deck was packed, how could it be that there were so many places to sit in such a great location? That we found out a little later.

After halftime, the group I came with split up in the crowd so my friend Dylan and I found ourselves sitting on the lower level on one of the sidelines. We had a great view of the fans on both sides and the field itself. When the second half started, thirty seconds did not go by without at least one cheer from each set of fans. And when I say cheer, I do not mean like a cute cheerleaders' “ra ra ra” cheer, I mean there were huge drums, megaphones, and a mob of angry fans screaming the team songs that they had grown up singing. Every now and then, the referee would make a call upsetting the Slavia fans, amongst whom Dylan and I were sitting, which would make them spit, throw beer, and throw fire cracker-type things, into the section directly below them. I guess that is why people do not sit in those seats, ya know, unless they like being burned by torched towels. At one point, I saw a girl holding her t-shirt over the railing in the balcony and thought, “that's strange... Oh wait, the t-shirt is on fire, that's why.” Every goal that Sparta scored (Sparta won 3-0) sparked a Sparta colored bon fire in the middle of their cheering section. I'm telling you, these people are fanatics in every sense of the word. When I realized the level of psycho in the crowd, I was a little freaked out. I obviously routed for Slavia for fear of being jumped and even tried to yell along with their chants, not too loudly that anyone would notice my wordless mumbles but loud enough to keep people from looking in my direction and wondering why I wasn't participating in the religious prayers.

While sports in the Czech Republic are not the best in the world, besides their national hockey team, I think they are the soul and spirit of an otherwise apathetic nation. Well over 50% of the nation is either agnostic or atheistic, which is one of the highest percentages in the world. Most people strongly dislike current president Václav Klaus and his government. The only institutions that really draw a consistent following are the soccer and hockey clubs. There are a lot of die-hard Sparta, Slavia, Liberec, Brno, or Plzen fans, to name a few teams, who solely believe in their soccer clubs and nothing else. Sports are constants that cannot start wars or be overthrown by other governments. A sports team will always be there to play and the fan always there to watch. They only affect an individual's life as much as he/she lets it, as opposed to a governmentally imposed tax hike. And there are no promises like those made by religion that something may or may not happen in the afterlife. Everything in sports can be explained almost exclusively pragmatically, with no grand statements about humanity's existence found anywhere near. Czech's like straightforward ideas, sports being one of them.

Leaving the game early was an excellent decision. Sparta was up 3-0 in the 80^th minute so we figured it was best to leave the stadium before anything crazy happened. It took me a long time to realize the significance of the hundreds and hundreds of riot police lining the stadium as we left. Police literally lined the entire stadium. There were police on horses, even a helicopter circling in the air above. It was unbelievable. Looking back, I realize that almost everything that happens in the confines of the stadium is anarchy. It seems as though anything that happens that does not affect those of the field or sideline is legal. It makes sense now. The police were there to make sure that the anarchy of the 90 minute soccer game was left in the stadium. The police were there to restore law and order to those leaving the match so that they do not disturb the surrounding communities.

This was an incredible experience, seeing the passion of the fans literally burning in the stands. I just did a little research and found one more soccer match happening while I am in town, SK Slavia vs. Liberec. I am not thrilled about seeing Slavia play again but Liberec is second in the Gambrinus Liga, the name of the league and coincidentally my favorite beer. The stadium is not too far away so I will try to rally the troops and go. Should be another hell of an adventure.

Anywho, thanks for reading. I'll be posting again soon.

All the best,

Than

Pivnice Na Konečné

Recently I posted about my journey traveling on Tram 17. One thing I did not mention in that entry was my experience at the final stop in Sídliště Ďáblice. By that point, I had been on the tram for ninety minutes, had finished most of my water bottle, and really had to pee. Luckily, there was a urinal in Pivnice Na Konečné, the bar 20 meters from the tram stop, calling my name. I answered the call.

I walked in and immediately noticed everyone's eyes on me; it was as though I had worn a white suit to a funeral (not in the sense that I'm an ass for wearing white, but solely in the sticking out sense). Everyone in the bar was caucasian, as well, but I was the only one under 40 years old. My Czech language professor Jitka told us about provincial bars and how they operate. Those who live close by go to the same bar everyday at the same time, sit in the same seat, and most likely have a specific mug from which they drink. If an outsider were to come and sit, it would arouse negative sentiments from the other bar-goers. The bartender might say, “What are you doing?! Don't you know that that is Petr's seat and he will be here in 13 minutes?” Everything is incredibly territorial in these places, so I wasn't completely shocked when I saw that every single table had a reservation card on it. All of the times were just after what one might consider working hours, around 5 o'clock or so. The bar was populated by old men, all smoking cigarettes and drinking beer. One man actually looked straight out of a movie set; he was hard at work with a cigarette in one hand and a pen in the other with his beer waiting just in front of him. The men in the bar could have been in any film as Al Pacino's henchmen. They just gave very hard and cold looks.

Symbols of Czech pride covered the walls. There were AC and HC Sparta Praha flags and scarves hung up all over, Czech national flags, too, not to mention posters of famous Czech fairytales. I am so glad that I paid attention in Czech language class (at least up until that point) because it was only when I understood the waitresses questions and responded accordingly in their native language did the men stop staring at me. They may have been staring at me because of my boyishly good looks, but I also have a strong inkling that it was more the whole foreigner thing. This is kind of what I have noticed about Czechs: if you as someone new disrupt their schedules, they won't be happy, but they will be less unhappy if you at least attempt to speak Czech. This was when I realized that I am actually doing alright in terms of learning the language. I'm really glad that I have spent time learning the language here. I like knowing it. I almost feel like it's disrespectful to study in a country for four months and not learn, or try to learn, the language. I wish I had studied more languages in school because I want to know the language of every city to which I travel. I just think knowing languages is one of the coolest things.

Anyway, back to the bar. I was very excited to see that the bar sold my favorite beer, Gambrinus, for only 20Kc for .5L. For those unaccustomed to krowns, 20Kc is equivalent to $1.05US. It doesn't get much better than that, especially because this pint of Gambrinus was the smoothest, best tasting glass I've had in Prague. I don't know what it was about the beer, maybe because I was in an uncomfortable situation and the beer was a sense of comfort, therefore enabling me to better appreciate it, but it was delicious. They had the tube on a Czech sports network showing highlights from various professional floor hockey games. It was quite a bizarre sport to see on a professional stage. It reminded me of floor hockey in gym class except without goggles. The goalie had all sorts of pads but played with his bare hands. It was quite entertaining to watch and allowed me to pass the time in a more pleasant way than just staring at a wall for fear of catching the eyes of the men in the bar.

When I finished my beer, I paid the waitress, used the lavatory and then went on my way. I think I'm going to ride another tram's route completely, it's an incredible way to see the city. Going to these small-town bars gives great insight to the area and the people; it's definitely something I want to do one more time before I leave this city.

Thanks so much for reading. Later alligators.

All the best,

Than

A Semiotic Look at Benches: Reflections on Madrid, Paris, and Prague

The following is an essay I wrote for a class called "Reading Prague: The City as a Metaphor for Human Existence." I thought it was an interesting idea and would love to hear what anyone thinks about my ideas in this paper. I hope you enjoy this post. 

Some people call me lazy but I sit down because I like the view.

A few weeks ago, I toured the city of Madrid with a highlighted map and my thoughts. I walked at my own pace, visiting some sights longer than others, really saw the city as I wanted to see it. I visited the Reina Sofia museum first and here I noticed how little I actually enjoyed abstract art. Consequently, I found myself thinking that I should just leave. When I walked out of the Sofia Reina I realized that this was my trip, independent from anyone else's plans, to be done my way. I sat down on a wall a few feet off the ground of the Reina Sofia Square where a group of ten teenagers were playing soccer. I thought it was the coolest thing. These kids were not only incredible, I was also amazed at the juxtaposition of a pick-up game of soccer and the world-renowned Reina Sofia museum. So I sat and watched. Eventually I looked at my watch and realized that I had watched the game longer than I had been inside the museum; I was very content sitting and watching. The last touristy thing I saw in Madrid was the Teplo de Debod, a temple donated to Spain by the Egyptian government situated on a hill with a beautiful view of the Almudena Cathedral, the royal palace, and other parts of the city. Having been exhausted by that point, I was glad to find a plethora of benches on the small hill. I remember appreciating the views made possible by the positioning of the benches; I could relax and see the sights at the same time. Then an idea hit me, benches are definitely strategically placed in this area, in Madrid, and in different cities across the world. There has to be reason for a bench to be put somewhere. This marked the beginning of my semiotic study of benches.

Semiotics can be defined as the study of signs and symbols and their use or interpretation. Marcel Danesi, professor of Semiotics and Communication Theory at Victoria College in Toronto, defines the goal of semiotics as “to identify what constitutes a sign and what its meanings are” in his book Of Cigarettes, High Heels, and Other Interesting Things. Signs are “symbols capable of being described and catalogued, which can denote precise functions provided one interprets them in the light of certain codes” (from Umberto Eco's Function and Sign: The Semiotics of Architecture). Danesi defines codes as “systems of signs–gestures, movements, words, glances–that human beings routinely enlist to make and send out messages.” There are certain messages made from codes of signs regarding benches, their placements, aesthetics, etc. Those in charge of a city's landscape controls where a bench will be, if at all, and those decisions inform travelers of the area's significance. I believe that locating a bench, or benches, in a certain area and in front of certain things reflects the landscaper's idea of the area's level of importance. This idea then shapes the traveler's experience of the sight into a predefined mold. The city planner tells the traveler what he should stop to explore further and what to move passed, what deserves his attention and what deserves a glance or two. In this essay I will expand on these theories and apply them to different cities to which I have traveled in Europe: Madrid, Paris, and Prague.

The first thing I wrote in my journal as I sat waiting for my flight out of Madrid was, “I want to move to Madrid.” Recounting my memories, I recall feeling completely elated by the city. Besides the really interesting culture and daily schedule, I was blown away at how accessible the city felt. I walked for three to four hours for two days straight but was not nearly as exhausted as I should have been. The reason is because Madrid's landscape is very people-friendly. There are parks, gardens, and squares all over the city, those combined with the great weather make the city comfortable. Retiro Park, the second best park only to New York City's Central Park in my opinion, is full of benches. The park 1.4 square kilometers, 350 acres, and everywhere you turn rests a bench. The purposes of benches in this park are very simple and straightforward. They encourage the traveler to sit down, relax, and enjoy the park and the people walking by. A lot of the park is constructed to provide many secluded areas in which I witnessed couples enjoying their love in the privacy provided. The bench, with the park's help, becomes a symbol of romance, an ideal very important to the Spanish people. At the heart of the city lies Puerta del Sol, the main square of Madrid. Puerta del Sol hosts the conversations of hundreds and hundreds, possibly a thousand, friends until the incredibly late/early hours of the morning. This area of the city does not have benches in the traditional sense but has many places to sit, the rim of a fountain, the stoop of the metro's entranceway, and so on. I think the square was designed to allow people to sit and enjoy their surroundings yet in a way so as to not inhibit the effectiveness of a mass of protesting people. I could talk in detail about every sight in Madrid and each's specific design but I will briefly summarize. Madrid was designed to be enjoyed, giving people the opportunity to relish in every little pleasure by providing so many to sit, relax, and reflect.

In Paris I could feel the hustle and bustle almost everywhere I went, the complete opposite of Madrid's atmosphere. definitely the most metropolitan city I have been while abroad. I remember seeing benches only in a few places: a bridge near the Notre Dame, around and under the Eiffel Tour, in the Tuileries Garden, and in metro stations. Only a combined forty minutes was spent in those places, the rest of the weekend I was on the go. I did not notice any benches facing the Arc de Triomphe, along the Champs-Élysées, or really anywhere else for that matter aside from those aforementioned and a few random benches here and there. This does not come as much of a surprise. To me, not having places to sit signals that I should keep going and not spend any more time in the current area. If the city does not think the spot worthy of putting a bench then the city signifies to the traveler that this place is not worth his time. While the Champs-Élysées is a magnificent sight, a bench in the middle of the sidewalk would completely ruin the rhetorical message of the avenue. The Champs-Élysées is a busy street filled with busy people who need to attend to business. Business transactions do not take place on benches so to have them lining the most famous street in Paris is not practical. One thing I appreciate about Paris is that the city recognizes its nature and provides benches in the metro stations and at bus stops. The non-stop character of the city is well known and so because the traveler must keep going while in the heart of the city, he can relax while he waits for the train to go home. Interestingly enough, on October 21, 2011, the Huffington Post released an article detailing Mayor Bloomberg's initiative to install 1,000 new benches in New York City. The Post writes: “The CityBench program is aimed to make life more comfortable for pedestrians, especially those waiting for public transportation and areas with a higher number of senior citizens in the neighborhood.” For cities that do not sleep, it is nice to know that there are at least a couple of places to rest for a minute. The lack of benches in most public spaces in Paris tells a great deal about what the city values, business and hard work. The emphasis here is clearly on being fast-paced which is in direct contrast to Madrid where one can sit and spend hours anywhere (this is not to say that Madrid does not stand for business and hard work, but the prevailing attitude among the city is much more relaxed than in Paris).

Prague's benches as signs and codes are much harder to interpret than other cities'. Some of the most post-carded views in the city have few and not very inviting benches. I do think Prague is a very nice population of benches, especially in the more touristy areas, but really lacks them in more everyday, functional areas. I recently revisited the Vyšehrad, and Petřin with my ideas of benches in mind, which are two of the best elevated views of Prague. In both places I found benches. At Vyšehrad I found them lining the perimeter of the complex so as to look out onto the southern and western sides of Prague. On Petřin I noticed them lining the edges of gardens and also near the Prague Eiffel Tour, looking out at the eastern side of the city. However, the benches were not very comfortable, nor did they provide the best view. The benches at Vyšehrad sank low to the ground making it difficult to see over the wall, and there were very few benches with a view on Petřin. Another interesting part of the mix is that there are no or only a couple of seats at most tram and metro stations. It seems as though those who planned the city decided to only provide foreigners, those who frequent touristy places like Vyšehrad, Petřin, and the Prague Castle, with places from which to look down upon the city, but do not supply much for locals. A foreign traveler could get a relaxing view of Prague's beautiful shell yet not know anything about the local culture or people. Travelers do not stay long in Prague because there are only a few places to sit and enjoy the city, most of them being on the outskirts of the city center looking in. One of the most post-carded sights in Prague is the view from near the tram stop Karlovy Lázně, looking out at the Charles Bridge and up at the castle and St. Vitus's Cathedral. There are very, very few benches along the river in this area and those that are there are ugly and cheaply made; it does not seem like a place one should spend much time even though in reality it is one of the most beautiful sights. It is possible that if there were more benches, people might stay longer in certain places and thus extend their stay in the city longer than one and a half days. More benches could also improve the attitude of the locals, as well.

Benches are great travel guides because they relay a clear and important message: if there is a bench, the city thinks that the area should be enjoyed while relaxing, that one should stop his day to pay attention to his surroundings. The city sends the opposite message when there are no benches. When sitting, the body rests in a comfortable, less demanding position than when standing. This allows the mind to focus on the what the eyes see with the least amount of bodily distractions. Sitting and enjoying the surrounding area can be therapeutically peaceful. Without such an outlet, it puts more pressure on the home to be a place of relaxation, creating unnecessary stress when problems arise at home. In a city with no benches, one has no place to mentally center himself during the day. I think benches are incredibly important to the happiness of a city for these reasons, and I would not be surprised to see New York City's happiness levels climb with the installation of 1,000 new benches.

Thanks so much for reading.

All the best,

Than

Tram 17

Right after Czech language class a few Fridays ago, I packed my backpack with an apple, a water bottle, and a pen and paper. I headed to Národní Třída and hopped on tram 17 in order to ride its full route. I traveled south from Národní Třída to Nádraží Braník. I wrote down the majority of my notes on the southbound journey but for continuity's sake, I will recall my travel through the stops from south to north, Nádraží Braník to Sídliště Ďáblice, with some commentary from my return trips, as well. Allow me to jump right in.

Nádraží Braník is the southbound end of tram 17's route. Traveling from Národní Třída, I expected there to be some draw, something here to tell passengers to get off the tram because there is no need to go any further. Besides the fact that there is nothing further on this tram line, I did not find the area incredibly exciting. Here one can find a small bus hub, a construction site, and a pub or two serving, fittingly enough, Braník beer. I did not see anyone walking around and there were only two or three people who got on the tram going north with me. From Nádraží Braník through Pobřežní to Přistaviště, I started to notice the magnificent homes on the beautiful hill just across the river. I found their placement interesting because on the one hand, they are completely secluded up on the mountain and have an incredible Vltava view, yet they also look directly at unglamorous neighborhoods. Here, there are two clear, earthly bodies that hierarchically divide this area. On one side you have the mountain, beautiful in size and structure, holding the foundations of many up-scale houses. Then down the mountain and across the river, one finds more reasonable homes and apartment buildings that may not be as aesthetically pleasing, yet serve a more functional purpose. The rich are on high and the poor are down below. I would be interested to find out the relationship between the two neighborhoods, so opposite yet both sharing a section of the Vltava. As I brought my attention back to the road, I noticed that the highway had a decent amount of advertisements and graffiti. Even though this looked to be an older community based on who I saw, the walls of the highway are still seen as valuable places to artistically express oneself through graffiti and to advertise business. The population on the tram up until this point was mostly made up of elderly women, each kept to themselves. I also noticed the difference in architecture from the city center. In the center, even an unassuming, unimportant building stands taller than most buildings and homes way down south. The homes along the tram route were less fancy, not ugly by any means but just far less meticulously detailed as buildings in the city are.

As the tram pulled into the Dvorce stop, I began to notice the amount of space in between building clusters. In contrast to the city center where normally one can only find open space if the area has been designated a square, out here there were more small parks along the road, even running lanes on the sidewalks. Not many people boarded or left the tram, the population still seemed to be on the older side. I guess that is what one should expect as the tram moves through more residential areas. At Kublov, I continued to feel more of a residential atmosphere. I saw tennis courts, a soccer field, and there were far less restaurants and shops lining the streets. A blue, green, and yellow painted fence lined the river side of the road. I could not tell exactly what lay behind the wooden fence but it looked as though there is a children's park, or a recreational park, on the inside. The fence's advertisements show young adults playing beach volleyball which seems like an intriguing way to bring the youth of Prague's inner city to the outskirts for fun in the sun, at least in the summer. My friends and I are always looking for new places and parks to play football (the American version), regardless of how cold Prague can be, so this could very well be the location of our next game. On the way to Podolská Vodárna, I also noticed a massive cubist building here, it may have been a hotel or an official building of some sort. Either way, the building really demands attention and gives character to the street. Most of the buildings started to look like a mix between cubist and functional, becoming very blocky and older. I like that cubist buildings line this part of the street facing the Vltava because they bring a vivaciousness to the area.

The last cubist building I noticed came right before Vyšerhad and the Výtoň stop, the famous building right on the corner, Villa Kovarovic. At Výtoň, I noticed a slight change in the demographic of the tram car. Most of the people still looked very local and older for the most part, and still, not many people spoke a word, but there were a few students who boarded the tram and I could sense that the tram was driving into a younger crowd. Next we came upon Palackého Náměstí, one of the most beautiful squares I have seen here in Prague to which I definitely plan on returning. Just across the road from the eastern bank of the Vltava, there is an open and peaceful-looking park or garden. Along with the statue of František Palacký, just behind the square stands a very pretty brown building with spires that connect to the edge of the roof in a curvy slope. I want to return to find out more about the building. One thing I saw on the western riverbank was a giant Pilsner Urquell boat called the Admiral Botel. I can only assume that a botel is simply a hotel on a boat, but I do not think I would need Watson's help figuring out this mystery. I bring it up because over the course of my travels on the 17, I saw a few different yachts bearing the names of different beer manufacturers, yet all of which were outside of the main touristy part of the Vltava and of Prague. Some may have just been restaurants but having what looks like a high-priced hotel, just because it is on the river, yet that far away from the city center does not make the most sense to me.

Speaking of beautiful views of the river, I thoroughly enjoyed riding through the stop at Jiráskova Náměstí which offered an incredible view of the Vltava as the tram ran up the river's eastern side. Here, I noticed that all down in this area of the river the docks stored more functional boats, rather than leisurely ridden paddle boats. The idea makes perfect sense because from that far south, a tourist can barely, if at all, see the spires on St. Vitus's Cathedral. Seeing these industrial boats definitely makes one snap back to the idea that the Vltava serves a greater purpose than allowing tourists to float around in a giant plastic duck. Traveling back toward the city center, I started to notice tourist gift shops around this stop and the people on the tram were ready to get into the city. There were now the most amount people on the tram yet. At The Myslíkova stop, one knows he is in Nové Město, and when one gets to Národní Třída, he knows that this is the main hub, just about the heart of the city center in terms of tram stops. A plethora of trams going in various directions all converge on this stop due to its close proximity to many things, Tesco, Wenceslas Square, as well as to all of the attractions of Národní Třída ulice itself. Here is where I noticed a drastic swing in age demographic, the majority was now younger and middle-aged people.

This trend continued through Národní Divadlo, Staroměstská, and up until the tram passed Právnická Fakulta. Národní Divadlo offered a beautiful view of the most aesthetically pleasing sight, the Prague Castle towering over the Charles Bridge and the Vltava. The architecture around here is extravagant, including the residences, with very specifically detailed facades. At this tram stop, the car was jam packed but seemingly not with tourists. Interestingly enough, most people did not care to look out the window as we passed Karlovy Lázně to see the castle or the Charles Bridge as we passed them. It was a sight the people grew up with and did not need to focus on during this ride. At the Staroměstská stop, there was lots of movement on and off the tram. For the first time on my tram travel, I noticed how loudly the occupants of the tram spoke to one another. The up-beat mood of the tram differed drastically to mundane atmosphere in the car at the beginning of the trip. Právnická Fakulta, as I recently discovered, is the Charles University Law School, and the last major stop before crossing the Čechův Most to go north. A decent number of people got off the tram here who mostly looked like students.

When the tram crossed over Čechův Most, another beautiful view displayed itself for me. Back across the river, there were beautiful buildings. Two of them looked like very upscale hotels, the Inter-Continental and President hotels. Because they strongly resemble the same hotel that Michael Jackson stayed in near the Old Town, I can only assume that they were erected during the Communists era. Another captivating building was, as I was told when I asked another passenger about it, a government building that reminds me of the National Museum at the top of Václavské Náměstí. Here I also saw the Budweiser Budvar boat resting against the dock.

From this point on, I saw no more gimmicky or touristy shops, this was a very real and functional part of Prague. The first stop passed Čechův Most was Strossmayerovo Náměstí. As we passed by, I noticed a pretty church at the top of what I think is the square. This is interesting because I have not seen another square set up this way, one that focuses on its church as if it were a village in Catholic Spain. Obviously I just passed by and get off the tram to examine the square further but from what I could tell, the square focused on the church. The only other square I remember seeing in Prague with a church is the Old Town Square and St. Nicholas's Church, and I would argue that the square does not center around the church but rather, the church just adds another beautiful piece of architecture. I wonder if this square is more historically Catholic than others in Prague. The next stop was Veletržní. The only memory I have of Veletržní is of the National Gallery. The gallery's architecture does not demand attention, I very easily could have missed it if I happened to look the other way. I noticed the architectural change from the flashy sights of the center to more normal looking, more easily manageable buildings around here. There is nothing too ostentatious about the area; however, I do like the more commonly found architecture up here in the north than I did in south of Národní Třída, besides the cubist buildings.

As the tram then approached Výstaviště, I became very excited; I knew this place. This is an interesting area because one side of the road has such an abundance of fun and excitement while the other side is incredibly boring. Across the street from the Výstaviště stop, one sees Tesla Arena, Výstaviště Praha Holešovice, and Stromovka park. All of these places are packed with fun, hockey, concerts, and all types of amusement, Stromovka park being the largest and prettiest park to which I have been besides the hills near Jinonice. When I realized that I knew this place, I quickly diverted my attention away from the ventured side of the street to the other. I just as quickly returned my eyes to the side with the amusement. It is interesting because the other side of the street and the rest of the area felt very industrial with not much to note. Pulling into the next stop, Nádraží Holešovice, I saw only the second Agip gas station that I have seen in the Greater Prague area. I noticed around this area the tram to have a familial feel to it. A few kids made some noise here and there as they sat next to their parents. I soon figured out the reason for this shift in demographic on the tram, this was the last stop before heading to the very humble parts of the outer city.

Passing through Trojská, Nádraží Troju, and Hercovka, I could tell that I had entered a very residential suburb of Prague. I started to see personal homes with lawns and garages. One thing of note was that the physical height of the architecture was smaller in comparison to buildings and homes closer to the city center. The trams demographic aged greatly again, as more and more elderly people boarded the tram around these stops. Then at Ke Stírce, I started to see a little pick-up in commerce. There were many more shops around this area than I had seen recently a little further south and Kobylisy even seemed to have a good sized metro stop. I noticed that most people got off the tram here. Going through Kobylisy, I sensed a communal feeling in the area in the sense that I did not see more than one of a certain type of store, only one butcher and so on. There were no big business out here, just small shops. And once the tram passed Kobylisy, definitely by the time it hit Střelničná and Kyselova, I was one of the only people left on the entire tram. No one got on or off at any of these stops and the only interesting sights were the massive communist housing projects. Gigantic apartment buildings in kind of weird colors stacked next to each other with nothing in between, no amusement of any sort, no aesthetics of any kind. At last, the tram reached its final stop of Sídliště Ďáblice. There was a car dealership, a couple of low-end restaurants, more functional housing, and a pub, but that is it. I went into the pub to use the bathroom and grab a beer, and upon opening the door, I felt as though I was wearing a giant pink elephant costume. Everyone in the place stared at me. Once I ordered the beer in Czech, I felt less eyes on me, and eventually everyone went back to their business. It was a very interesting experience that I really appreciated, especially because the velké pivo cost only 20 krowns.

Coming back from Sídliště Ďáblice, I decided to let one 17 pass me and wait for the next one, I was waiting for the nice, spacious tram scheduled to leave a few minutes later. I think the experience of riding one of the normal trams as opposed to the newer, handicap-accessible trams is very different. I cannot explain it too well in words but the natural feeling of the moving tram going over the tracks, making turns, etc, are all slightly different. I do like the newer trams better, the seats are much more comfortable; however, I do feel a sort of disconnect from the spirit of the authentic Czech tram. The new trams ride with less noise from the tracks. I almost feel like I am in a little bubble traveling through Prague but not experiencing it when I am on the nicer trams. The honest feeling of having to stand for the duration of a ride is humbling in a way, but except during rush hour, I imagine, there is no need to stand on the new trams because of the plethora of seats. I love standing on the back of trams and fixing my eyes on whatever catches them. I even tried to stand on the back of the 17 for this journey but quickly realized that one, it would be difficult to take notes, and two, I would not be able to see the people on the tram.

I am glad that I took this excursion at a time when the tram car's population did not remain stagnant, either completely empty or packed to the brim. I was able to obtain a better understanding of the important stops in certain areas of the city but at the same time had enough personal space to remain comfortable. I think I scored a great experience. Starting from Národní Třída, I saw the city cube up and shrink in size and population as I moved further south until Nádraží Braník. I then witnessed the rapid growth in commerce, population, size, and architectural beauty as I made my way through Národní Třída to Staroměstská until Právnická Fakulta. Similarly to the south, the way north end of the route completed the downward slope at the end of the Prague bell-curve of excitement. I would rather take the tram than the metro any day and the reason is because of the different views of the city I get from coming and going in different directions. Coming and going from Sídliště Ďáblice, I witnessed many different angles of the same view and it is something very special and unique to the tram system here in Prague.

Thanks for reading!

All the best,

Than

My Favorite Place in Prague: The Wallenstein Palace

I first visited the Wallenstein Palace in the second to last week of September with class. The reason I remember so specifically when it was is because I remember telling myself that I had only a week to return before the garden was to be closed for the winter. My next visit occurred a few days after when my friends and I mistakenly tried to ride the tram 18 to the base of Petřin hill. We eventually realized that the 18 would not take us to Ujezd and got off at the next stop, Malostranská. Immediately upon looking around, I realized exactly where we were, steps outside of the Wallenstein Garden. The friends with me are not in European Mentality and therefore had never known to go the garden, so I was very excited to show them this incredibly serene place, while also being able to experience again for myself. The third visit was very intentional. It was September 30 and my friends and I wanted to see the gardens one more time before we were told they would be closed. Unfortunately, Fall break and October's end restrict my fourth visit to the gardens, but they have left a great impression on me. The Wallenstein Palace is so far my favorite place in Prague and in the next few pages, I hope to explain why.

Albrecht von Wallenstein built the palace in 1623 in the Baroque style with the help of lead architect Andrea Spezza and lead interior designer, who painted the frescoes in the main hall. Wallenstein was famous at the time for his success as Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial forces during the Thirty Years war. However, after the war, both the Protestants and Emperor Ferdinand II wanted his allegiance. According to Encyclopedia.com, when Wallenstein began negotiations with Protestant princes, Ferdinand II had him killed before the emperor could be betrayed. His nephew received the rights to the beautiful palace and it remained in the family until just after World War II. In 1945, the palace and gardens became property of the state and became the operating place of the Czech Senate. I enjoy the history of the palace because of the dichotomy of Wallenstein's nature. In one hand he grips a sword while the other lay relaxed by his side. Wallenstein was said to be an incredible military mind yet also knew the importance of serenity and tranquility which he displayed in his palace gardens. Aggression and hostility are nowhere to be found in the spirit of his estate.

During my first visit to the Wallenstein garden, I was a tourist. I wanted to take pictures of everything so as to be able to leave with evidence of that which made elated me. (On a side note, I feel like this is a problem with tourism. I have noticed that when I take pictures of things, I am content to know that my camera gets a nice view of the subject, but I don't necessarily see it for myself. In another blog post, I hope to talk about the differences of seeing a city with and without a camera). Standing at the entrance closest to Malostranská, the first view blew me away. Right next to a busy intersection just outside the city center is this breathtaking and peaceful garden. I stood gazing at the pool in front of me when I realized that just above this place is the Prague Castle and St. Vitus's Cathedral. I really liked this view because in my vision was juxtaposed two beautiful sights in Prague, yet one is completely commercialized while the other goes unnoticed to the ordinary tourist. As we kept walking, I was shocked to be joined in the garden by peacocks. Peacocks roam free here, are fed by the keepers of the aviary, and simply live amongst each other in the gardens. During my third visit to the gardens, I remember seeing a peacock walk right along side a toddler. It was then that I noticed peacocks' giant claws and I feared for the child. Luckily, despite the inquisitive nature of the child, though he never touched the bird, the peacock was completely passive and peaceful.

Lining almost every walkway of the garden were magnificent bronze statues of the Greek gods and goddesses, but the most captivating synthetic display was a giant charcoal gray wall located on the left side of the garden. This giant wall was made of dripstone and was complete with artificial stalactites, as well. Upon first glance, I did not really see anything but what looked like a pretty ugly wall. When I investigated further, with the help of Professor Cílek and fellow students, I saw little faces carved into the wall by its designer. There were the heads of snakes, gorillas, monsters, a devil, etc. To me, this wall metaphorically represents Prague in a way, minus the fact that I initially thought that the wall was ugly. In my travels, I have found that the coolest places and attractions to see are things not necessarily highlighted on a map or in a travel guide. When you look for cool things off the beaten path, I find they tend to be cooler than the big tourist attractions. The small, almost unnoticeable carvings in the wall are individually more interesting than the wall itself, but ultimately help to advance the appeal of the wall. The average tourist who visits Prague for 1.5 days will spend hours dropping his/her jaw at the magnitude of St. Vitus's Cathedral and the Prague Castle, an hour or so walking across the Charles Bridge and then locking one's love to the partner on the gate near the Lennon Wall, and another hour or two cruising around the Vltava in a race car paddle boat; they will probably not see the Wallenstein Palace. I think that is one of the big reasons I am drawn to it; there are a few tourists but not enough to detract from feeling the essence of the grounds.

Finally at the focal point of the gardens is the main hall of the palace, what is now home to the Czech Senate. The main hall is extravagant. The frescoes designed by Baccio del Bianco are very cool: classic scenes from Greek mythology and lining the ceiling are six or eight Greek heroes but all dressed in medieval knightly garb. My camera needed a nap after I saw these frescoes. Then came my first of two experiences sitting on the benches in the garden. The first time was led by Professor Cílek's lecture. I sat and listened to the history of the place, learned about the architecture, what type of events occurred here, etc. As usual, the lecture was interesting and informative but I think I gained a greater understanding of the palace and the gardens the second time my butt rested on the benches, an experience I will describe soon. This was the end of my first trip to the Wallenstein Palace.

My second trip, like I said, came about by accident. My friends and I happened to board the wrong tram, my friend Dylan and I happened to notice the familiar entrance way, so we went in for a little bit. I do not think we spent more than twenty minutes walking around before we left. Some people were antsy to get our picnic on Petřin started so our visit was hastily done. I remember feeling a little annoyed because I felt like those new to the gardens just sort of glanced at things and then moved on. I guess I am glad for this experience because it left me wanting to come back. So I did.

September 30, 2011, a few friends and I traveled back for what would be my third visit, the visit when I realized that this was my favorite place in Prague. We arrived in the late afternoon, walked around for a little while, exchanged pleasantries with the peacocks, waved to the devil on the dripstone wall, and then planted ourselves on the back-most benches from the main hall. We just sat there, talking a little bit about how beautiful the sun set over Petřin and the palace, about whether or not this palace was technically part of the Prague Castle (it is not, by the way), and about any other random thought that popped up. The majority of our time there we sat in silence just gazing at the surroundings: the frescoes, the owl aviary, the dripstone wall, the bushes, the statues. This was the essence of the place in which we sat. We were resting in a place of relaxation, a place of peace and tranquility. I even took a little nap as we sat on the bench. I wanted to see the gardens and the palace for what they were, just beautifully sculpted pieces of art. I did not want to obstruct anything about them, nor anyone else's perception of them. Sitting there for what I am guessing was a little more than an hour, I felt so peaceful. The garden is so great because it preaches safety and serenity. All around, statues of the gods are protecting the garden from all of life's threats and danger, one can walk around in peace knowing that there are no worries. The wall with hidden monsters even looked calming to me. That is what I felt in this place, no danger, no worries, my mind was quiet, resting, and happy. This experience and these exact feelings combined with the real physical beauty of the place are the reasons that this is my favorite place in Prague. While I do think tourists should see the big name sights, I believe that everyone who comes to Prague should spend an afternoon sitting in the gardens of the Wallenstein Palace, for it is one of the true beauties of this city.

This was a long entry, I apologize, but thank you for reading.

Hope all is well,

Than