It's a blur. I woke up frantic at 6 after short hours of sleep. I centered myself by rapidly eating the pasta and stir fried vegetables I made the night before. Then, of course, I crammed two shirts, a pair of socks, my laptop, and some money in my bag before hustling to the 6 line to Nuevos Ministerios.
I knew I should be smiling, talking to people, and enjoying the flitting moment but I was on a mission: Prague-->Olomouc-->Medical School-->Prague-->Madrid (In 52 hours aaaand GO!)
Eating became secondary when my "9:30 a.m." flight became an "I guess we'll take off at our convenience regardless of your 40 minute connection in Zurich" flight.
My next flight had 5 minutes until takeoff. I got to the gate by "last call"
On that flight I met John. John was a medical technologist specializing in heart machines in Wisconsin. We passed a good flight bantering about Europe and travel.
Then in Prague time stood still and I took off my watch. There were Czechs dancing in the square in front of some old buildings. I wandered around and saw a river, cathedral, old buildings, and a lot of a language I understood none of.
Then I happened upon a holed up restaurant. I was famished at this time. I pointed a finger and said "un" "uno" "one" to a confused person. I made a gesture like I wanted to eat.
In retrospect I should have learned some basic Czech.
My waitress spoke English. Next to me was a giant family laughing and eating. I asked for a beer.
I got a budweiser.
Thinking to myself "why would anyone want this beer in another country?" I took a sip. I stared at it. It was amazing. It was on par with Dortmunder from Great Lakes...except...it was drank faster. I downed 1L before the meal came.
In reality I had no idea what I ordered. Out came a simple slab of roast pork on top of a mountain of vegetables. I mixed the two and washed it down with more "Budvar." It was heavenly. I was in a trance. The meal cost 185 crowns...which is less than 10 euro depending on where you get your money changed.
Content, I walked out to smoke a cigarette and find internet to get to a hostel. That's when it happened. Two men with good intentions lent me a lighter in exchange for a cig. One had long greasy hair and a big nose. He spoke a bit of crude Spanish that he picked up in Barcelona 10 years ago. They spoke no English so I walked the other way.
The man with the short hair ran me down and asked "what?" and I, a bit frustrated, pointed to my chest and made a sleepy gesture. Short hair smiled, pointed **you** **sleep** **shower** were the gestures. His friend seemed disinterested. I nodded. He waved for me to come.
At this point I thought they would point out a hostel. Then the greasy haired man with burnt hands and a vacant expression said "train. hostel expensive"
I hopped on the tram with no idea how to pay. Short hair started saying "blah blah. you. my wife. me no."
In 10 minutes I was at their house. It was in the projects. Several beds in one room. Several people in a bed. No one spoke English. I wanted to leave but decided to stick around to see what would happen.
A greasy Ukranian man came out and mumbled a few words in English. I asked "internet?" and he shook his head. Eventually the wife came back and asked me "Why you here?" I shrugged.
In a half hour Chicago came. This is when things got more interesting.
Chicago was a chubby, pale, redheaded man who spoke fluent English and several slavic languages. From the start I could tell that I couldn't trust him. The more I distrusted him the more he assured me he was trustworthy.
Short haired man asked him to ask me for money. I gave him a small sum for a rough bed. Chicago said "he says it's uncomfortable because it's meant for two people. If you bring a prostitute back it's no problem."
His fifteen year old son stared me down the whole time.
Then Chicago and I went to the center. He was broke. We shared fantastic dark beers and swapped our stories. He was living illegally and was doing "construction." Later in the conversation I figured out that "construction" meant demolishing buildings and ripping out the copper piping. His main income was his mother and selling drugs.
Then we ate meat paste on the main street. All the dealers lined the streets that we walked down. Immigrants, amputees, people with despair and urgency in their eyes all stared at us. Chicago called me "the tourist."
After raking the streets for a bit he found a dealer to buy drugs from. I, still intrigued and a little buzzed, kept my distance but followed him expecting to happen upon a respectable lodging in the near future.
He shook hands with an African, shook hands again, and ran away smiling.
The main street was beautiful and dirty. The whole city seemed like it forgot something and was trying to remember. As the night went on it seemed more like they were trying to scratch out those memories.
The handshakes were an exchange of his parents money for pot. Enter a Russian woman tripping on something. She demanded that I buy her a beer so I obliged.
Chicago took us to the metro. He told me we were going to a dorm party. I felt safe in the city. All my posessions on hand I was ready to ditch them at any moment. On the metro weed was smoked by Chicago and the Russian.
He told me we were going to see a view of the city. I shrugged. Ready for anything, I followed with an unnatural interest.
20 minutes walking I realized we weren't going to a party and we weren't going somewhere touristy. The Russian woman walked us around the outskirts of Prague confusedly for 2 hours. We were in the middle of nowhere at the end of our little hike.
After this, I felt a bit tired and completely ready to crash. Chicago tried talknig to me about life. Then he told me not to trust the wife of the man who brought me to the slums.
We arrived at the house but Chicago and I weren't allowed in. The Russian went in and came back out after 25 minutes. She had something in her hand but I didn't want to know what it was. Suddenly, she was gone and we were waiting for a car.
Chicago tried to convince me to do some white powder with him in the park but I refused. Then he asked me for the foil to my cigarettes. He pulled out the whole pack and put his drugs on the foil. Hunched over on a park bench he lit the paper on fire and quickly burned up all his drugs.
In a rage he tried to smoke the paper. He cursed in his language, then in English. I wanted to know what they were but didn't ask him.
I was in another world. It was a world without school, jobs, or forethought. It was a complete moment and nothing else. There was no "next year" and there were no bills. These people lived with what they had and wanted what would make them feel good. It was sickening. It made me thankful for my time in college and my hard work to come here. It made me relish the fact that I had student debt but also the conscience to pay it back. By contrast, all my doubts about my life path were, temporarily, absolved.
This guy was a little king in his world. I can't say definitely that there is something wrong with his way of living. It's just not mine. I appreciate my world now. I'm not begging my mom for money to gamble and spend on the present. I'm working toward medical school and what I see as beauty in the world.
In the car I was asked for money. I said I had none. By this time I had come to my senses and realized that I was in plenty of danger. There was a man and a woman in the car. They wanted me to buy something from them but couldn't speak English.
I was delighted and terrified to arrive back at the slums. The Ukranian wife stood in the doorway as Chicago yelled something into his phone. I saw the 15 year-old on the bed. I asked slowly "Is the water OK to drink?" He nodded.
I was on the fence at that time for more adventure. The history and beauty of the city was a splendid backdrop for all the depressing activity.
The wife shouted "go sleep now!" and Chicago tried to come back into the room but she closed the door and locked him out. "You sleep now and in the morning you go. OK?"
I nodded.
Sleep was never so light. I clutched my bag wishing I spoke Czech. The 15 year old in the room was watching tv through two computers with half-working parts.
The next morning I started awake by the wife again. Her black hair was matted and half draped in her frantic face. She furrowed her brow searching for words in English. We stepped outside and spoke softly. "I go to city with you. Find hotel."
"I'm leaving the city today."
"I take you out of here."
"Just point me in the right direction and I will find my way."
"Out of here turn left and go straight to Praha center. Don't come back."
"Ok, thank you."
"The young man you were with said he wants to use your money. Don't stay with him. Don't come back. They want take your money. So. Go."
She nodded her head and spoke with an edgy voice. She didn't want me there to shake up their world. Less money around meant less problems. She was thankful for the little bit I gave them.
I stepped outside. She gave me a lighter. "You keep. I insist no more problem."
I know now that she was talking about how I met her husband by asking for a light.
Immediately in the 7 a.m. morning light I felt a great love for everyone I knew. I felt great to be alive and to have my feet on the right path. The only thing I had to do then was to go to Olomouc.
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