Touchdown
Hansi navigated the yellow school bus (decorated with Little Nessie the dinosaur on its sides) through the complex towards my flat for the next month. “You’re flat is just ahead,” he said.
To call this apartment complex industrial would do it no justice, oh no—this complex was a product of the Steel Curtain, designed to house thousands of Czechs in these boxes. It is a giant square comprised of many smaller squares, housing several thousand people at least. This, I thought, this is my home?
After a disorienting first day, however, things have become much clearer. Yes, I do live in a mammoth apartment complex, but the bus stops 100 yards away, and the bus takes me straight to the metro station, and the metro takes me where I need to go. So: the public transportation system is really superb and easy to navigate, and as long as you don’t mind walking you cover everywhere in central Prague in a day. I have been all over—up high, down low, but never too slow, oh no, not when there’s so much to take in.
To the stereotypes of Prague. Yes, the architecture is astounding, on almost every street, the city was a middle aged mother when America was a bratty infant. It shows, it does. Yes, the beer is cheap, a buck at most, and very good. No, you don’t need to know Czech to get around, but telling them ‘Hello’ in their native tongue does a world of good.
We started teaching today, and despite stopping absurdly early my instructor said I did well. The students I have are Pre-Intermediate, which means they’ve had about a year of the language. The emphasis on our language teaching is to have them do as much as possible: speaking, reading, writing, etc., because when the teacher talks the student doesn’t. Simple enough.
My class is a fairly mixed bag of Americans and one Canadian. My one flatmate is Paul, a 31-year-old Taiwanese guy who used to teach in the Bronx. He’s particular but easy to get along with. He has a lady he loves in the Netherlands, much like Tom, 31 and in love with a lady in Dresden. A very laid-back hombre, he is. Most of the class is over 30 actually, oddly, the average age around 32, I’d say. The youngest guy is like Jerry Fugit at his most annoying (for those of you who know Jerry, and out of no disrespect to him—nothing but love, Jer.) There’s one other guy in the class, David, who seems to be similar to me in terms of interests and where he is in his life, which is nice—I had found it strange otherwise to be befriending people at other stations in their lives. Far be it from me to demand conformity or people like me, it was just surprising to be so unlike even most of my fellow teachers.
So do not worry for me (even you, Mom). I may not have seen the sun yet in this city but I’m still loving it. A leap of faith means you expect someone will be there to catch you or that you’ll grow wings and fly off. I’m not there yet, but I’m flapping. Oh yes. I am one flap-happy guy.
To call this apartment complex industrial would do it no justice, oh no—this complex was a product of the Steel Curtain, designed to house thousands of Czechs in these boxes. It is a giant square comprised of many smaller squares, housing several thousand people at least. This, I thought, this is my home?
After a disorienting first day, however, things have become much clearer. Yes, I do live in a mammoth apartment complex, but the bus stops 100 yards away, and the bus takes me straight to the metro station, and the metro takes me where I need to go. So: the public transportation system is really superb and easy to navigate, and as long as you don’t mind walking you cover everywhere in central Prague in a day. I have been all over—up high, down low, but never too slow, oh no, not when there’s so much to take in.
To the stereotypes of Prague. Yes, the architecture is astounding, on almost every street, the city was a middle aged mother when America was a bratty infant. It shows, it does. Yes, the beer is cheap, a buck at most, and very good. No, you don’t need to know Czech to get around, but telling them ‘Hello’ in their native tongue does a world of good.
We started teaching today, and despite stopping absurdly early my instructor said I did well. The students I have are Pre-Intermediate, which means they’ve had about a year of the language. The emphasis on our language teaching is to have them do as much as possible: speaking, reading, writing, etc., because when the teacher talks the student doesn’t. Simple enough.
My class is a fairly mixed bag of Americans and one Canadian. My one flatmate is Paul, a 31-year-old Taiwanese guy who used to teach in the Bronx. He’s particular but easy to get along with. He has a lady he loves in the Netherlands, much like Tom, 31 and in love with a lady in Dresden. A very laid-back hombre, he is. Most of the class is over 30 actually, oddly, the average age around 32, I’d say. The youngest guy is like Jerry Fugit at his most annoying (for those of you who know Jerry, and out of no disrespect to him—nothing but love, Jer.) There’s one other guy in the class, David, who seems to be similar to me in terms of interests and where he is in his life, which is nice—I had found it strange otherwise to be befriending people at other stations in their lives. Far be it from me to demand conformity or people like me, it was just surprising to be so unlike even most of my fellow teachers.
So do not worry for me (even you, Mom). I may not have seen the sun yet in this city but I’m still loving it. A leap of faith means you expect someone will be there to catch you or that you’ll grow wings and fly off. I’m not there yet, but I’m flapping. Oh yes. I am one flap-happy guy.
posted by Avimaan @ 9:55 PM
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