company in the Czech Republic part 2

After a long walk toward town I asked person after person about the bus station. No English. Eventually I bought something to eat from a street vendor. He spoke pretty well and pointed me in the right direction. I got a little lost and ended up in a hostel called "Czech Inn." It was the one I was looking for the night before.

I sat on the computer blankly contemplating the insanity that was my night before. Determined to get out of the city before I met the Ukranians again, I closed my laptop with the instructions to the bus station and set off. I had no idea how lost I would be when I got there.

Again, there was no English. I went to a window and wrote down "Olomouc" which some people pronounce "uul mosh" and others something else. The man chuckled asked "English?" from behind his desk and then told me to go two desks over to ask there.

After going there I grabbed a ticket from the man who simply said "11:17 or 12:17" and I ran up to the platform.

Little did I know...there were three wings designated "R," some other letter, and blank. My ticket was in Czech and had no departure time. I ran to a platform and asked an old German man. The floor staff spoke only Czech but the German said "It's here."

Three minutes later he said "no. It's not here. Go downstairs."

I went back to  the info desk and got scoffed at. Ran back up to the platform and stared at the monitor. Throwing away 100 crowns for a water bottle, I wondered in passing what this trip was really going to cost.
I boarded the train.

Olomouc was cleaner, Olomouc was older, and Olomouc had even less English speakers. I wandered and got lost until I heard a few brits speaking English in an old courtyard. There was a church and some bums past an old square. I walked through, gazed at the statue, then entered the church.

It was different from those in Spain. More pictures, more statues, and tons of Embalacias (I'm not sure if that's what they're called). They are beautiful, old, golden figurines with occasionally sensible things on them. I didn't understand what they were or what they meant but they were beautiful. It was Sunday, so mass was in session and the priest stared at me as he read his lines to a half-full audience.

After gazing at the Czech inscriptions and seeing the artistic depictions of the crucifiction I wandered out. Next door there was a large lawn surrounding a museum. Because it was Sunday, the exhibitions were free.

I wandered from room to room reading history of the old stone painted statues. In the center room there was a giant painted chariot beautifully adorned with figurines and designs. Then, I went downstairs to see, up close, remains that were over 1000 years old. There were tools and weapons from the ancient people there.

The contrast between their lives and mine I felt deeply. So long ago they lived but the same anxieties of betrayal and self-preservation are something we both have in common.

Speaking of self-preservation, I hadn't eaten since that sausage from the street vendor. About 8 hours had passed and I was ready for some more food.

I checked in to the Poet's Corner hostel to the surprise of the nice Czech hostess. She was a nice woman in her mid 30's with a nice smile. Smiling back, I asked her the ins and outs of the city. She recommended a lot of nice microbrews and some areas to see during my brief visit. She didn't have change for my 500 bill so she stood up to reveal a very large pregnant belly.

I felt bad because she then proceeded to climb down the 5 sets of stairs to get change from the store nearby.

After she got my change she set a bed with a chocolate mint on the pillow. There was only 1 person there: a Chinese person. I joked about having a "luxury private suite" with him because there were half a dozen empty beds. We hit it off pretty well and I asked him to come have dinner.

I had the microbrew in mind. An Australian man, the hostess's husband, came in and let us know about the fantastic ribs at the restaurant called "M" on my map. We chatted about the city and I told him that I, unfortunately, had to leave tomorrow so I had to make the most of it.

The Chinaman called himself  "John," (to my recollection) and he was from Hong Kong. He lived in London but he was Mormon. It was an interesting conversation on our way to "M."

As soon as I sat down I picked out the giant .5 kg ribs and .3 kg vegetables. It's nice there that they list the quantity of food that you get as well as the price.

That night I was looking for trouble but didn't find it. The hostel was deserted. There was no one on the streets at 10 p.m. I went to a corner bar and no one spoke Spanish, French or English. I decided to get a frantic night's rest in preparation for my interview the next day.

I woke up at 7:30 a.m. and sauntered to the number cafe the pregnant hostess told me to visit. The breakfast was nowhere near as fantastic as the beer and ribs from the night before (Czech food beats that of the Spanish handily).

I finished breakfast in a rush and ran to a shoe store. I quickly tried on several pairs of shoes before settling on a size 40 dress shoe. They're a bit large for me but they have a square point to them. It was tough to tell the first time I put them on that they weren't going to work out.

I quickly paid with visa after demanding that the clerk stop trying to upsell me with her broken English.

I ran to the interview and demanded to know where my appointment was. Again, the receptionist spoke no English! It was so frustrating. I got around to seeing them afterward and they were very nice.

The interview fragment went very smoothly and they were enthusiastic that I was interested. Pending my grades being what I claimed and my MCAT (I told them the truth, so I know I can get in) they said that they would be happy to accept me for an interview.

Then I saw the facilities and was not impressed nore let down. Everything was modern, the staff were knowledgeable and courteous. The sticking point was this: The program admitted highschoolers from particular medical programs in southeast asia. I wasn't worried about integrating with a multinational group...I had more problems with going to a medical school with a group of 16 year olds. I felt like my degree put me in the "overqualified" category for the school. In addition to that, tuition is 10,000 euro. Not worth being so far from my family.

I was glad to go though. The tour of the facility and conversations about science, medicine, and why I want to practice really put me in gear to plan ahead.


I also wanted to speak with the Americans there but didn't have a chance to meet them.

I ran in my square shoes to print my ticket. Then, I ran faster for 2 miles to catch my train. The train moved slowly and I could barely contain my apprehension as it slogged back to Prague. I thought 65 minutes was enough to get from the station to the airport but that turned into a little 45 minute window.

I got on the "express bus" at 4:00 and we started off at 4:05. I removed my belt and the metal in my pockets in anticipation of running through security. By the time we got to the airport my plane was boarding with 5 minutes left. I sprinted around the airport looking for the C terminal. The only thing I could think was "300 euro if I miss this flight!"

I found someone. Yelled "C GATES?! C GATES?!" They smiled and pointed. I ran through security and sprinted to the gates. I got there for last call. Smiled at the woman and whipped out my passport. As soon as I got on the bus to shuttle us to the tarmac the doors closed. Exhausted from stress, I zoned out in reflection.

Madrid felt pretty comforting to sleep in after that adventure. I learned something. I now know what it's like to have 48 hours of frantic ignorance and adrenaline.