The Duty to Remember

Routinely when I travel, I am struck by the wonderful realization that this beautiful and wondrous planet we live on is home to so many intriguing and fascinating ways of life. It’s hard for my brain to understand that the majesty of Prague Castle, the tranquility of the bath houses in Budapest, or the cacophony of the streets of Shanghai all exist in the same world as my high school or the street that I grew up on. The world is a beautiful place with so many amazing things to see.

But today, I saw the dark side of this same realization. For the first time, I realized that horrible, dark, evil filled places also loom on the globe. That there is unspeakable pain on the same planet that has always provided me safety. It’s one thing to imagine atrocity; its another to stand in it’s shadow.

We woke up early this morning–around 4am–to drive to Auschwitz. After eating breakfast at the onsite bed and breakfast (which felt very out of place) we bought tickets for the earliest available English tour. The tour wasn’t actually for two hours so the group napped in the car. I’d slept the whole car ride to the camp, so I took some time to walk around the perimeter.

The weather set a perfect mood. It was foggy and the willow trees were dripping with rain. Small memorials on the grounds of what is now a world UNESCO site commemorated the lives lost. A few signs also gave some brief history before guests went into the camp.

Auschwitz was named after the nearby polish city “Oswiecz” (“Auschwitz” being the German name of the city.) In total, there were thousands of concentration camps across Europe. Many were satellite camps or holding ghettos, each named after the nearest city.

There were actually three camps that made up Auschwitz. Auschwitz I was the original and was actually a Polish military base that the Nazi’s took over and converted to a concentration camp. Originally, Auschwitz I was used as camp to house political prisoners. These included Polish officials after the Nazi invasion of Poland, as well as defectors, politicians, and white collar criminals. Some of the youngest “political prisoners” at Auschwitz were teenage boys arrested for shop lifting.

When the Nazi’s met to decide “the final solution to the Jewish question,” Auschwitz was chosen as a site for a death camp, primarily intended to exterminate Jews from Hungary. The bomb shelter in camp (which was built by the Polish army when it was a military base)  was turned into a gas chamber. The camp however was not big enough to fill the Nazi’s goals, so they built the well known Auschwitz II, “Auschwitz-Birkenau.”

Auschwitz-Birkenau is the death camp most people envision when they think of the holocaust. It had it’s own train platform, bunk houses, and 4 gas chambers. Approximately 90% of people who arrived at Birkenau were dead within 30 minutes of arrival. The rest, endured terrible conditions. They were given only a piece of bread and a bowl of broth each day. To pass the time, they were used as slave labor to support the war effort.

Auschwitz I is entirely intact and was abandoned by the Nazi’s when the Soviets arrived. Much of Auschwitz-Birkenau was destroyed by the Nazi’s in the week before the Soviet’s liberated the camp. The wooden buildings were burned, along with two of the four gas chambers. The third gas chamber was destroyed in an uprising, and the forth was destroyed in the liberation. Auschwitz III–which was a factory the slave labor worked in–was entirely destroyed and no longer exists.

The tour goes through Auschwitz I and II. Starting in Auschwitz I, we went under the infamous sign that read “Arbeit Macht Frie” (“work makes you free.”) Just inside the gate is the area the camp orchestra would play marches to set the cadence for the workers going to and from work. The Nazi’s used this to rush the workers and require them to march in time with the cadence.

I wish I could write this post as a narration of the tour, but I can’t. It’s too overwhelming to write about. Our group said several times on the tour that “there are no words” and that is so very true. I studied the holocaust in school, I’ve been to the holocaust museums in D.C. and Berlin, I’ve been to Jewish ghettos across Europe…but nothing prepared me for today.

Nothing prepares you for standing on the spot Dr. Mengele stood and conducted “the selection.” Each group of prisoners was inspected by him. Women, children, and the elderly were killed immediately upon arrival. Able bodied men were stripped, shaved, and used as slave labor. According to the book I purchased in the tourist center, some of the teens were sold as sex slaves or sodomized and murdered by the SS.

Nothing prepares you to see the room filled with 2 tons of human hair–some of it still braided. There is also a room filled with shoes, another with pots and pans, and a third with luggage. Many Jews were told they were being relocated for their own protection. Some believed, others didn’t, but they brought with them possessions they would need. After they arrived at the camp, these things were seized and resold in German stores across Europe. The hair that was shaved was sold to fabric companies, and the ashes from the crematoriums were either dumped in rivers, mass graves, or sold as fertilizer to farmers to fund the war.

Nothing prepares you to walk through rooms were experiments were preformed on women. New sterilization surgeries were tested, most of which killed the patient mid-surgery. If they survived, they were killed a few months later so an autopsy could be done to see how the body healed. Gold teeth and crowns were extracted without Novocain and sold. Poisons were developed and tested on people. People were murdered and then autopsied to understand anatomy.

Nothing prepares you to go in the torture chambers of block 11. Here, 1 meter by 1 meter rooms would hold four people, sentenced to stand for three to four days straight for in-camp crimes, like stealing food or breaking curfew. Suffocation chambers were used to house up to 20 people who would stand with only a square inch of fresh air flowing in and out of the room. We went in the suffocation chamber with Father Kolbe sacrificed his life to save another prisoner. When ten prisoners escaped from the camp, ten men were chosen at random to die in their place. One man begged for his life, and Father Kolbe stepped forward and offered to die in his place. He survived over three weeks in the suffocation chamber, outlasting the other nine men. Pope John Paul II canonized Kolbe. In the end, Kolbe was killed with a lethal injection to the heart.

Nothing prepares you to see how small the cattle cars are. Each one brought 80 people into the camp. Again, to fund the war, the Jews were required to purchase their own ticket to the camp. If they didn’t, they could be killed on the spot. The ride to the camp was standing room only–again, the cars are ridiculously small. There were too buckets in each: one with water, and the other to be used as a toilet. The cattle car that is on display was donated by a Jewish man who escaped the Nazi occupation and fled to Israel and later Australia. He paid to have one of the cattle cars found and restored. His father was killed in Birkenau for refusing to give up his prayer shawl during the selection. The SS shot him on the spot. When the doctor came to dedicate the car to the camp, he left his own prayer shawl in the cattle car.

Nothing prepares you to stand in the gas chambers. I’m not sure which is more haunting, the small openings that the poisonous pellets came through or the claw marks on the walls where people touched earth for the last time. In the next room, you pass by the ovens. Most of the times, the gas chambers were run by other Jews. They were given this job as a means to stay alive. If they refused or rebelled, they were shot on the spot.

Nothing prepares you to see the pellets that were used to poison the Jews. The poison was developed by a Jewish scientist years before the Nazi’s used it for extermination. It was designed as rat poison. At high temperatures–which were easily produced with 2,000 people of body heat in a room–the fumes cause internal organs to melt. Prisoners would vomit bile and blood, while also suffocating. When enough time had passed, the room was cleared out. The bodies were shaved and burned. Of course not everyone died in the chambers. Some unlucky few survived and their mangled bodies were burned alive in pits outside. Seeing those pits–there are no words.

Nothing prepares you to see the mass graves. Nothing grows in their place. In fact, the soil doesn’t even appear natural. They look like grey scars on the ground.

Nothing prepares you to hear about the entrepreneurship of the Nazis. In addition to selling the remains of the Jews for profit, they conducted business with over 40 international corporations. Two examples stick out from the tour. One, all three Auschwitz sites were insured for property damage and employee casualty. The policy was underwritten by an international corporation still in business today. Additionally, the Nazi party developed a soft drink for the SS. It was orange flavored and called “Fantastic.” The Nazi’s later sold the recipe to an American owned soda company and the drink is marketed internationally today under a different (but similar) name.

Nothing prepares you to go in the children’s bunk house. In this house–which is about the size of my families living room, dining room, and kitchen combined–700 to 1000 teenage boys lived at any given time. The “bunks” were wooden frames and had three levels–a top, middle, and the floor. Each level was a little wider than a twin bed (maybe 1.25 twin beds) but about half as long, and would sleep 8-10 kids. The top level was the best because they were only allowed to use the toilet once a day (either in the morning, or at night) and as a result, a lot of accidents happened and fell from the top to the bottom.

As I reflect on the experience, sadness isn’t the right word. Disturbed is more accurate, but still not complete. My brain honestly wouldn’t let me feel much of anything while going through the camps. It was on the car ride back to Prague that it hit me. And even now, there is part of my brain that won’t let me process it. I am aware of how upset it makes me, but I cant truly feel it, because I know I’ll get lost in those feelings for days if I do.

I’m sure in the coming days, more words will come. If there is a lesson to be learned, I think it is that these tragedies still happen. They are happening in Africa. They are happening in Gaza. They are happening to refugees. They are happening in remote parts of Asia. This beautiful, majestic, culture-filled planet of ours is also ridden with much darkness and so much evil. Maybe if more people could see Auschwitz and feel the burden of it’s memory, we can avoid repeating the same pain in the future.

Bike Rides & Bath Houses

The first part of my Hungarian vacation package was a bike tour. I’ve always liked bike tours to get oriented to a city. It’s a nice way to see a lot quickly and then decide which sites you want to go back to visit. (Not to mention, cycling through traffic when you don’t really understand the traffic laws adds a little bit of danger to whole experience.)

The bike tour met behind the Opera House. There were 6 of us in the tour: a 68-year-old widower who was biking across Europe, a Norwegian university student on exchange in Budapest, an Icelandic couple doing an Eastern European trip, and a New Yorker (whose story I did not catch.) Our tour guide, Lorant was brand new to the company. He did a great job and enthusiastically informed us we were the second tour he’d ever given in his life.

And we covered a lot of ground in 4 hours. After leaving the Opera House, our first stop was the House of Terror, which was once the Nazi headquarters in Hungary. Today, the building is one of Europe’s largest museums devoted to Fascist and Communist regimes of the 20^th century. We didn’t go inside, but we took note of the huge, chain-link statue outside.

The next stop was Heroes square. Much like the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin, the Heroes’ square is a large series of columns, with a central column that towers over the rest. It was built as a monument to Hungary’s millennial celebration. The celebration wasn’t to commemorate Y2K, but rather the country’s 1000^th birthday in 1896. It was here that Lorant explained the history of Hungary. The territory was originally settled over 1000 years ago, by nomadic people—the Hungarians. The two largest settlements—Buda and Pest—straddled the Danube river, until they were united as one city in 1873. Much like the Czech Republic, Hungary has fought many wars defending its existence. First attacked by the Ottomans, and later absorbed by the Hapsburgs into the Austro-Hungarian empire, it was given its own state at the end of WWI and later lost much of its land in the end of WWII. Years of Soviet occupation crippled the economy, but Hungary is slowly making a global comeback.

While we were in the Heroes Square, it wasn’t much to see. There was a horse race going on this weekend and the square had been converted to a giant, sand covered horse track.

Our next stop on the tour was a slow ride through a city park. In the past, the park had been a giant marsh, until Hapsburg empress Maria Theresia planted trees to change the terrain. Now, it’s a beautiful park, and home to a giant statue of George Washington, a symbol of solidarity and support for the fledgling American Republic in the 18^th century. Just beyond the park is a castle. A fake castle actually. It was built in 1896 for the Millennial celebration, but it’s never actually been used or lived in.

Just beyond the park is the world famous Szechenyi bath house. Buda and Pest were first desirable locations for the thermal hot springs located between the tectonic plates. THe geothermic activity makes the soil fertile, and the climate temperate. During the Ottoman occupation, the ottomans tapped into the springs of warm mineral water, building Turkish bath houses around the city. While many of the original bath houses have been destroyed, the hot spring culture stuck and Szechenyi is the oldest, and one of the largest, geothermal bath houses in the world.

From the bath house, we biked back to Deak Ferenc Ter, which Lorant told us was the main square of Budapest. Here, he explained that what beer is to Prague, wine is to Budapest. The geothermal springs that make the soil  around Budapest so fertile create ideal conditions for growing grapes. There are many popular styles of Hungarian wine, but the most famous is a dessert wine called Tokaji. That said, Hungarians like them all, and there are no laws preventing citizens from sitting in the park and enjoying a glass (or bottle) of their favorite Hungarian red.

To the south of Deak Ferenc Ter is the Dohany Synagogue. The sand colored building is stunning, with its stripped exterior, and two giant towers–each topped with golden domes.  The architecture is similar to the Great Market Hall, which was our next stop. The roof of the Market Hall looks to be made of polished green tiles. The walls however, have a similar red and sand stripped pattern as the synagogue.

As I mentioned biking in traffic is part of the fun of the tour. We bobbed and weaved through cars, trying to stay together so no one got left behind when a light changed. It quickly became clear that if it was humanly or physically possible to stop for a yellow light, you really are supposed to. Many cars and cyclists would screech to a halt to avoid rolling through on the yellow. Our group, however, was not too adept at following this rule.

One of the iconic views of Budapest is an image of the many bridges that span the Danube between what used to be two cities. We biked across two of them on our tour. First, we crossed the Liberty Bridge. Lorant told us that the Liberty Bridge is a popular site in the summer, as they often close it to traffic and let people picnic and eat on the bridge to enjoy the views of the city. Riding from the Pest to the Buda side, we biked north on the bank, passed a castle-like monastery that is carved into a cliff, another bath house, and the former Hapsburg palace. That brought us to the most iconic site in Budapest, the Parliament building.

The Parliament building was built as part of the millennial celebration. It was significant as this was the first government building to oversee the united city of Budapest (as opposed to previous government buildings that were built by either Buda or Pest.) Built in a neogothic style, the design is shrouded in symbolism. For example, the main dome in the middle, rises 96 meters—to commemorate the millennium in 1896. It is the 3^rd largest government building in the world. While that is a point of pride, it is also a point of some controversy, as the large building draws tourism for the city, it also requires a lot of money to maintain.

But all debate about tax payer dollars aside, the building is hauntingly beautiful.

We biked  back to the Pest side on the Margaret Bridge and spent some more time examining the architecture of the Parliament building. The building flies both the Hungarian flag and the Romanian flag. Both Hungarians and Romanians have inhabited the territory on the border between the two countries. As the border has moved and shifted with different wars, the countries have agreed to allow those inhabitants who found themselves separated from their old home by a new border to still vote in elections. In other words, if a Romanian lives in Hungary, they can vote in Hungarian elections (which impact their lives and tax dollars) without completely immigrating to Hungary. The same is reciprocated so that Hungarians who now live on the other side of the boarder can vote in Romanian elections without giving up their citizenship.

A massacre occurred outside the Parliament building when Nazi troops fired on protesters. To commemorate this event, the bullet holes in the building across the square have been filled with giant lead pellets, so those who were killed are still represented in the square.

We biked up to Liberty Square, where there is a giant monument to communism. The memorial was built as a peace offering with Russia after the fall of the Soviet empire. There is also a life size statue of Ronald Reagan in the square as a recognition to the role America played in the Cold War.

The tour included lunch, so we took a break at a strudel café. While strudel is originally Austrian, all the countries that made up the former Austro-Hungarian Empire have very similar foods. They were, after all, one empire for over 600 years; it makes sense they shared a recipe or two.

After lunch, we biked up to St. Stephen’s cathedral. There was a market setting up, which I learned was the International Chocolatier’s Festival (I made a mental note to come back.) Here, we took a group selfie, before returning to the Opera House to return our bikes.

The next voucher in my tour package was for Szechenyi. I headed back to the hostel to grab my swimsuit and caught the metro back to the bath house. To be fair, after my very naked hot spring experience in Karlovy Vary, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I figured I’d take the swimsuit to be safe.

The outside of Szechenyi is a bright yellow building. The architecture looks more Romanesque, with big white columns and artistically decorated archways. When I turned in my voucher, I was given a blue wristband that buckled like a watch. Waving it over a sensor, opened the turnstile to go inside. In the locker room, the wristband was used to open and close the locker. Holding the door shut, I waved my wrist over a sensor, and the locking mechanism engaged. Touching the sensor with the band released the lock and it reopened. The entire facility was quite modest. Had I not brought my own swim trunks, they were available to rent. I changed, rented a towel, and headed outside.

In the center of the complex were three outdoor pools, two circular and one long rectangular. The long one was used for swimming laps, while the other two were for soaking. I didn’t smell chlorine nor was there a strong mineral smell that often accompanies hot springs. At the same time, the water was crystal, clear and did smell clean.

It also felt amazing. A large digital sign said that the water was 29*Celsius (about 90*Fahrenheit.)  In the middle of the first round pool was a giant fountain. People took turns standing under the cascading water to get a hot water massage as it flowed down. I waited for space to open up and backed in to let the water run over my shoulders. With bed bug bites up and down my arms and legs, and covering my torso and face, I still look like a plague victim or a shingles patient, but the hot water eased away the stress of the past 2 weeks.

The locker room and massage parlor occupy about half of the complex that surrounds the outdoor pools. The indoor pools are in the other half of the circular shaped building. I made my way into the house to try the indoor pools. In the entry way, there was a large water basin you had to walk through. The water was cold, but it was meant to rinse the gravel off your feet before you got in the pools.

There had to be 15 or so pools inside the bath house. They were smaller than the ones outside—some the size of a backyard pool, others no bigger than a patio hot tub. They smelled of various mineral scents. None of them were dirty or gross, but they weren’t the same crystal clear color of the outdoor pools.

The temperatures also fluctuated quite drastically. The hottest pool was about 108*F and the coolest was about 40*F.  Both the extreme hot and the extreme cold felt fantastic. The cold pool took about 2 minutes to ease into, but once I did, it was really relaxing. It felt especially nice after I got out of it and could feel the blood rushing back into the muscles. Of course, the hot pools were fantastic. I took my time hopping from pool to pool and forgetting…well, just the craziness of moving, lesson planning, job hunting, moving again, and moving again.

The part I was not a fan of was going in the saunas. Downstairs, there was a wet and a dry sauna. The wet sauna was a crushing heat, while the dry sauna made my eyes burn.

After exploring in the inside pools, I went back outside to try the other large round pool. This one was warmer than the one with the fountain. It also had a bit of current to it, with a few divided sections where you can choose to stand or swim in the current, or sit and relax just outside the strongest part of the flow. Most people picked up their feet and let the movement of the water push them around. There was a lot of laughing, and it was quite fun to see complete strangers from around the world swirling around and laughing together.

I started to get the urge that I should leave, but then I was struck by the thought “where do I have to go?” I was alone in Budapest. The entire weekend was my time to do whatever I wanted. I had nowhere to be, no one to see, no plans to keep…it was my own adventure. So, I stayed, returning to the baths I’d decided where my favorites. When I came back out to the pool with the current, the sun had set, the stars were out, and I was sufficiently relaxed.

At this point, I was hungry. I decided to head out so I took a shower, got dressed, and went back to the hostel. Dropping the wrist band into a box by the exit was the token out of the turnstile.

For dinner, I went to one of the restaurants recommended in the tour package. Describing it as a piano bar is probably not accurate, but the live piano music was a highlight. It turned out to be one of the most memorable meals I’ve eaten in Europe. When the waiter approached, I asked for a glass of the house red wine. He brought it to me. Studying the bottle, I learned that it was a cuvee from Hungary. It has to be one of the best wines I’ve tasted. If I wasn’t there alone, I might have asked him to leave the bottle.

The food was equally as impressive. I started with a bowl of goulash. While the Czechs proudly claim goulash, it is originally Hungarian (one of those shared recipes that can be found across the former Austro-Hungarian empire.) Where Czech goulash is a very thick, meat-filled gravy served with dumplings, Hungarian goulash was more soup like with lots of vegetables. For dinner, I ordered vakvarju. This traditional Hungarian dish seems to be Hungary’s answer to Pizza. It’s flat bread—a little thicker than pita—covered in cottage cheese, red onion, sausage, shaved ham, and corn. After dinner, it seemed rude, not to try dessert so I ordered a second glass of wine and a piece of gateau de formage frais (which was basically cheese cake covered in slices of grapefruit, pineapple, and mandarin oranges.)

In tribute to the Hungarian economy, the entire meal (with a generous American tip) was less than $20 USD.

As I finished my glass of wine and listened to the piano man play “Here Comes the Sun” all I could think was “What a perfect day of adventure!”

Hungary for an Adventure

Going to Budapest was a last minute and spontaneous decision. Ryan had plans to go to Cesky Krumlov for the weekend. I’d assumed I’d be working but found out that my training didn’t officially start for another week. And after a week of hospital visits, excessive laundering to kill the bed bugs, and sleeping on the couch at our friend, Dominik’s…I was ready for an adventure.

Unfortunately, booking a last minute trip isn’t without some ambiguity. I found a packaged deal online that included the hostel, a bike tour, a bath house, and a day of caving. I booked it, along with round-trip bus tickets for an overnight bus out of Prague the next day. As soon as I clicked send, a receipt for each transaction popped up in my inbox, with an email that I’d receive specific details at least 3 days before my trip.

Obviously leaving the next night, “3 days before my trip” had come and gone. And in fact, with just minutes until my bus departed, I still hadn’t received any info–specifically, I had no idea what hostel my reservation was at when I arrived in Budapest. But as my bus pulled away from the station, there was nothing I could do.

I read a chapter of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde before dozing off. The bus was packed and a lot noisier than I expected for a midnight departure. Thankfully I had noise-cancelling headphones—a birthday gift from a few years ago that made the trip with me. We stopped in Brno (south Czech Republic) and Bratislava (the capital of Slovakia) but I slept for most of the ride. The only eventful moment was when a bottle of champagne bottle exploded in the overhead compartment. It drenched the guy sitting next to me, but I was okay.

We arrived a little after 6:00 in the morning. Getting off the bus, we seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. Besides industrial and office looking buildings, there was no telltale sign of where to go to get to town. Everyone getting off the bus looked as confused as I did. I watched for a few minutes and saw a man walking with purpose south down the street. He seemed to look confident in where he was going, so I followed him. Sure enough, we came to a set of stairs that led down into the metro station.

In my head, I composed a check list. First, I need an ATM to take out Hungarian Florints. Next, I need wi-fi to find out where my hostel is and how to get there. Third, I need to buy something to break the big bills from the ATM into use-able denominations. Then…I’ll catch a train.

The metro station was quite a labyrinth, but it connected to the main station. There, I found an ATM. I was also able to connect to WiFi on one of the buses that was boarding outside. The email from the tour company had come through and I looked up the address of the hostel on Google Maps.  I saved the map and went to buy a pastry to break my change.

I bought what resembled a cinnamon roll but tasted nothing like it. It was much richer but less sweet (I learned a few days later that it was chocolate roll, made with unsweetened cocoa powder instead of cinnamon sugar.) When I went to buy a ticket for the metro, I was accosted by a homeless woman. In general, I’d seen more homeless people in Budapest in 20 minutes than I had in Prague in the last 7 weeks. I gave the lady a few coins and headed down to the metro.

The stop I got off at was listed as the closest stop on the map. Perhaps I took a wrong exit, but I came up from underground nowhere near my hostel. That said, there is nothing like seeing the sun come up on the other side of the world, and this particular morning in Budapest, there was a brilliantly pink sunrise.

As I walked to my hostel, I noticed that the architecture was quite similar to Prague. It had a very Romanesque look about it. The streets, however, were asphalt instead of cobblestones. There were also random, 21st century-looking buildings sprinkled around town.

When I finally got to my hostel, I was un-surprised to learn that I couldn’t check in until the afternoon. They did let me store my backpack at reception, so I dropped it off.

Taking a few minutes to read the orientation email that the tour company sent me, I learned a few interesting things about Hungary.

• The area of Hungary is a little smaller than the state of New York, with a population that is about half as big (roughly 9.9 million.)
• There are no notable emblems of Hungary–no colors, no national animals, no symbols.
• The language is crazy. There are several sounds that don’t exist in any other languages. The word for “he” and “she” is the same, but there are two different words for the color “red.” In fact, several movies have used Hungarian when they need scenes or phrases filmed in gibberish.
• Some aspects of Hungarian culture are more Asian than European. For example, Hungarian’s put their family name before their given name (ie: in Hungary, John Smith is Smith John.) They also write dates “Year/month/day” just as they do in Asia.
• Hungarians have given the world the holograph, vitamin C, and the ball point pen…as well as the first nuclear weapon. The country has been home to 12 Noble prize winners.
• A downside to Hungarian history is that the country frequently (a) gets into wars (b) loses wars. Over the last century, much of Hungary’s original territory has been lost in World War I and II, as well as the Soviet Occupation in the Cold War. Unlike the Czech Republic, the Hungarian economy is yet to recover from the Soviet Occupation.
• Hungary is in the top 10 in the world for suicide rates (over 2,100/year). It is also 3rd in the world for alcohol dependency.

I decided the first thing I would do was get breakfast. There were a few recommended restaurants in the orientation email. I looked over them and chose one that was just a metro stop away and advertised it’s $3.00 eggs and bacon breakfast. On the walk however, I was so distracted. There were so many incredible looking buildings and churches, I couldn’t stop snapping pictures of all of them.

It’s also worth mentioning at this point that the Budapest metro is a bit confusing. For one, it’s not very deep, only a flight of stairs below street level. The interior of the stations is covered in white, ceramic tiles. The metro cars themselves aren’t very big. With wooden siding, they only seat about 12 people in each car. The frustrating element of the system is that the trains are in the middle, with a platform on either side. You have to go in the right entrance to get to the right train. If you don’t, it’s a climb back up to street level to cross the street and go back down on the other side. I only bring this up, because I did it…multiple times…just trying to get to the restaurant.

When I did get to the restaurant, I discovered it didn’t open until 9:00. I had about 20 minutes to wait, so I walked over to a little courtyard, garden and took a seat on a bench. It seems I’ve done a lot of this over the years. I remember when I went to Paris (three years ago), I took a 4:00am flight, only to arrive in Paris, starving, and unable to find an open restaurant. At the time, I also had sprained my ankle the night before and it was swollen like a balloon. I spent the morning in a park wrapping and re-wrapping my foot in an ace bandage so I could go on the tour later that day. But sometimes sitting outside in the crisp, morning air has a way of slowing life down. As I watched pigeons peck for crumbs around the benches, and thought back on the trips I’ve taken over the past 3 years, I realized that Hungary is my 20th country I’ve visited. They’ve all be awesome adventures!

At 9:00 I went back to the restaurant, but it still wasn’t open. There was no sign that it would be anytime soon, so I decided to go walk around. St. Stephen’s cathedral was only a block away, so I went to have a look. The outside of the building is remarkable by itself, with a tremendous looming dome that seems to be the tallest structure in town. The inside feels like St. Peter’s Basilica, with multicolored marble forming each statue, column, and altar. Even though it was relatively early, and Budapest didn’t seem to be awake just yet, there were quite a few tour groups already exploring.

I got back to the restaurant around 10:00 and they were open. My omelet of fried eggs, sausage, and arugula never tasted so good. With a caffeine hit from the black tea with lemon, I was ready for my Hungarian adventure in country #20.

Things That Go Bump in the Night

The nightmare started just 4 days after graduating from the TEFL program.

On the Sunday after graduation, we had moved all our stuff from our attic apartment at TEFL to our new apartment off of Karlovo Namesti (Charles Square, in English.) The apartment isn’t the nicest of places. If you came to visit, the first thing you would notice is that it is above a strip club. This isn’t entirely uncommon in the city center of Prague. Bohemia has always been associated with parties and wild nights, and a lot of clubs are in the first or basement level of residential buildings. There is a noise ordinance in town so they are never too loud or rowdy.

Once you came into the building, the next thing you’d notice is that the halls are generally in disarray. There is lots of furniture left just outside the doors. Repair projects have been started, but not completed. The lighting in the hall is also haphazard. For example, in the main stairwell, the lights are on a timer. When you hit the button at the bottom of the stairwell, they will stay on for 5 minutes before switching off. There is no switch on any of the other floors however, so if you are going down, you are descending in darkness.

If you stayed long enough, you’d discover the Wi-Fi barely works and there is very little hot water.

The apartment itself was cozy enough. It had a kitchen, with one of those European style booths that fit into the corner. The bathroom was spacious, and unlike our attic, it had a shower. There were two bedrooms, each with a bunk bed and separate couch that could fold out. In total, the apartment could probably sleep 6 people all in their own bed. It’d be cramped, but it was doable.

Zarek (our other roommate from the attic) was still waiting for his visa to arrive for him to continue on to Korea so he crashed on one of the bunks, while Ryan and I temporarily shared the other room.

The first night was frustrating. I hadn’t called home in a while, and, after graduation, there was a lot to talk about. But the Wi-Fi kept cutting out (at the most important part of any story). Nothing exasperates homesickness like seeing home, but not being able to communicate.

After a cold shower, I went to bed. It wasn’t the best night sleep in the world, but it wasn’t the worst. I got up the next morning, and went about my day interviewing. When I got home that afternoon, I started prepping for more interviews the next day. Ryan was taking a nap, and Zarek (a prisoner without keys to the apartment) was watching Netflix.

That was when Ryan came out to the kitchen. He said, “There are a lot of bugs in our room.”

“Of course, there are,” I said. “You left the window open all day. Bugs come in.”

“No, but I think these are ticks,” he said.

“Tick don’t live in cities,” I said. “I had a tick bite once. Show me.”

We climbed up on the top bunk he had been sleeping on and he pointed to the bug on the wall. It did kind of look like a tick–it was flat, with the little head–but the body was too long and narrow.

“It’s not a tick,” I said. “it probably just climbed in through the window.”

Ryan said he was going to head out for a bit. It was getting late, so I went to shower. As I was showering, I looked around the bathroom. There were bugs in this room too. I shook them off of my towel and went into the kitchen. Looking at the booth in the corner, I saw there were bugs on it too. And they were on some of the cabinets. I put on my pajamas and started looking around the room. Ryan was right. They were on the beds, the walls, the closet doors.

Then it dawned on me. I wonder what bed bugs look like? I grabbed my phone and connected to the Wi-Fi. Sure enough, bed bugs look like little ticks with long narrow bodies.

Ryan!!! I texted. We have bed bugs!

Ryan has a background in real estate, and I know enough to be dangerous, so we both knew this wasn’t good. He googled the same thing on his phone, and decided he’d crash at a friend’s house instead of coming home. I had an early interview, so he was going to call our landlord in the morning and we’d get the whole thing sorted.

Sleeping that night was like an episode of Fear Factor. I’d wake up to see one on my pillow, or climbing across the upper bunk.

They’re just bugs! I thought. They’re just bugs!

The next day, our landlord came to check out the apartment. Bed bugs are nocturnal so it was tough to find them, but I had taken pictures all night. We learned through some research, that our case was rare. Most people never see the bed bugs. They usually start waking up with mysterious bug bites. The bites will typically be in a line or zig zag pattern as they frequently bite several times in a row to avoid chocking on a clot. Victims may also find gravel-like chunks in their beds–which are the exoskeletons of the bugs left behind after molting. One of the most notable signs are blood stains on the sheets from where the bites bled after the bugs detached.

And when our landlord pulled back the duvet on the bunk I’d been sleeping on, that’s exactly what we saw.

Freckled on the lime green sheets, were hundreds of little blood splatters.

He moved us upstairs to a 5-person apartment temporarily while our apartment was fumigated. Before moving, we took all our stuff to a laundromat. Washing what we could, we dry cleaned the rest. In the safety of our new, temporary home, we slept easy, and enjoyed a day trip to Karlovy Vary.

Later in the week, we had a little reunion with Kenny, Adrienne, and others from our TEFL class. Everyone pretty much had jobs at this point and we shared our stories about interviewing and moving. Our bed bug story pretty much took the cake on moving disasters.

“So, what do you have a bunch of bites or stuff?” someone asked me.

“No,” I said. “I don’t think I was bit, it was just creepy sleeping in there and knowing there were bugs everywhere. But you know, they’re just bugs.”

That night in the shower, I was washing my feet, and I noticed something. I had a rash on the tops of both of my feet. It wasn’t symmetrical, but the red, pin-sized dots definitely had a defined pattern to them.

The next night, a few of us went out for drinks, and again, I felt fine. The rash was more noticeable and spreading up my legs, but I didn’t mind it. The story was kind of fun to tell, and things were getting better. Even the third night, when a bunch of us went dancing, I felt fine. I got home that night, took a shower, and noticed that the rash was showing up on my arms too, but nothing hurt. It made sense. Sleeping in that room with all those grubby bugs, I was sure to have come in contact with something. At least I wasn’t bit!

In the morning, everything hurt. The rash, was gone, and in its place, each of those little pin-sized dots had turned into a nasty red welt. My arms and legs were covered in the itchiest of bug bites.

A quick perusal of Google revealed that bed bug bites don’t develop for 7 to 10 days after the original bite. The bugs have an anesthetic saliva they use to numb the skin before they bite. After they leave, this chemical is trapped under the skin. It stays undetected for a while, but once the immune system hits it, the bites swell and itch.

And actually, itchy isn’t the right description. My body felt like it was on white-hot fire. I’d scratch and scratch (no matter how bad it was for me) and nothing brought relief. My hands trembled trying to stay calm but every single inch of both arms and both legs hurt.

I needed to get something on them, or I’d scratch my skin raw. I went to the pharmacy around the corner to buy some cortisone cream. It was closed. I texted a few friends and learned that pharmacies are closed on Sundays.

One of the girls from the TEFL course had told us about the bathtub in her new apartment. I called her and asked if I could come use it. She agreed and told me to buy some oatmeal to soak in. It wasn’t a 100% cure, but it did sooth the itching a little. She also recommended coconut oil, which also took a little of the edge off.

But as soon as the cream dried into my skin, it was agonizing again. When I got back to our temporary apartment, I pulled off my shirt and looked in the mirror. The welts were forming on my back. Looking closer, they were developing on my face. I was literally covered head to toe in bites.

Ryan was helpful. He’d put the coconut oil on the bites I couldn’t reach on my back. It soothed the inflammation, but not for long. Heat was the best cure, but as I said, the hot water in this building was basically non-existent. I decided instead to take a Benadryl and take a nap.

When I woke up about 4 hours later, everything still hurt. Ryan was calling home, I plopped down in the corner booth in the kitchen. I sat for a minute staring at my phone.

A thought crossed my mind, but I immediately pushed it away. After a few seconds, it came back. But I ignored it and tried to peruse Facebook. It wouldn’t go away. This little voice in my head kept yelling over the itchy pain. I could hear it cajoling me, You should go home Zach. You need to go home.

So, I closed Facebook and opened Skyscanner. Plugging in tomorrow’s date, I searched for one way flights back to the states. They loaded, and the prices weren’t terrible.

Ok, I thought, I can leave most of my stuff here (I have plenty of stuff back home.) Heck! With as bad as my body hurts, I probably can’t handle carrying a suitcase anyway. I’ll just go home, the bites will heal, and we’ll pretend none of this ever happened. There were no bugs, there was no itching, there was no crazy house hunting spree of desperation, there was no crazy visa process to navigate, there was hot water, good Wi-Fi, and people who could help me…because I can’t do this!!!

I flopped over and laid down in the booth. Looking at the ceiling I let out a deep breath. Then I felt something on my face. A huge, salty tear rolled down my cheek.

I’m crying, I realized. I’m crying…over bugs! I’m giving up on everything because of a bunch of stupid bugs! This is insane!!! I can’t do it…but I don’t know what to do!!!

So, I just let it happen. I laid there and I cried. When Ryan was done, we went around the corner to get dinner. I wasn’t in the mood for conversation, and I can’t say I remember if we talked about anything. Of course, I wasn’t going to go home. They’re just bugs! But I was straining to stay rational and not completely lose it.

When we got back, I called home. I didn’t know what to do, but my Mom did. She talked me off the ledge and comforted me enough to get to sleep.

The next morning, I went back to the pharmacy.

“Hello,” I said softly and politely, not sure if anyone would speak English.

“Hello,” the pharmacist said. From her voice, I could tell she wasn’t confident in her English and probably didn’t speak much.

I itched my arm. “I need cream,” I said.

“No,” she said in harsh tone. She probably didn’t mean it as harsh as it sounded, but she was working through the words in her head. “You need doctor.”

“No,” I said, and smiled. “I need cream. Cortisone.”

“No,” she said again and reached for her purse. She pulled out a small mirror. She showed me my face. My face was so covered in bites, my eyes were barely open. I looked like a plague victim. “You need doctor.”

She drew me a map to the nearest hospital. On the TEFL course, they had given directions to an English-speaking hospital, so I decided to go there instead. It was about 20 minutes away on the metro. When I got there, the metro opened up right into the hospital. I asked one nurse–who was probably off duty–where to go, and she pointed me to the foreigners’ reception.

After I got checked in, they sent me upstairs to the dermatology department. I filled out paperwork, and waited…and waited…and waited…

I texted Ryan (who wanted to come to the hospital, but I told him I’d be okay.) I also texted my Dad and he kept me company over iMessage while I waited. Around noon a nurse came and told me that it was lunch time and the office was closed for an hour. I went down stairs and bought a sandwich in the cafeteria. When I came back up, I continued to wait.

Ryan texted me that he’d been online. There were a few reports of bed bugs in the same building we were living in.

We’ve got to move out I texted. I’m not doing this again.

But what if this is a scam? Ryan wrote. What if he knows there are bed bugs in that flat, he takes 2 months’ deposit, plus rent, and then you have to break the lease to leave?

I’ll text my boss I said. I’m not staying there another night.

When I finally got back to see the doctor, she was great. Her English was broken, but I understood enough. She gave me a prescription antihistamine that I was to take twice a day for a week. She also gave me a prescription cream to put on every night. Finally, she gave me a shot in my butt of hydrocortisone. Within 30 minutes, the itching wasn’t gone, but the white-hot burning sensation was. I felt rational again. They were just bugs, and I was just covered in bug bites.

I texted my boss at the TEFL school and she called me right back. I explained our situation and she gave me some useful information.

1. As immigrants in the country, our lease isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on. At any time, we can break the lease and there’s nothing he can do about it, and at any time, he can kick us out, and there’s nothing we can do about it. We have no legal rights without citizenship, so he has no obligation to give us our deposit back under any circumstances.
2. The apartment is way overpriced. As English teachers, we will never make enough month to afford the rent there. In a matter of months, if we stay, we will be out of savings and headed home to the states.

Ryan’s friend, Dominik, agreed to let us stay at his place for a few days. Over the next three days, we systematically took our stuff out of the building, to the laundromat, and then to Dominik’s. What couldn’t be washed, we dry cleaned. Books, technology, and things that couldn’t be dry cleaned, we put in black garbage bags and sat in the sun for two hours. This was an amusing experience. As I sat in Charles Square with all my belongings spread out in black garbage bags, no one paid any attention to me. For two hours, people walked passed me as if it was business as usual in the city center.

When we finally got everything out, we arranged a meeting with our landlord.

“We have to get that money back” Ryan said as we waited outside for him.

“I know,” I said. “I have a plan. I really don’t think he’s a bad guy. I think this problem is just bigger than he realizes. The whole building probably needs to be sprayed, and he isn’t organized enough to figure that out.”

“Yes, but he could also be running this as a scam to keep 3 months’ worth of our money,” Ryan pointed out. In US dollars, we’d basically paid him just over $1000 each.

“Hello,” our landlord said, in his typical, jovial Czech accent. “Your apartment has been sprayed and you can move back in tomorrow!”

“I can’t move back in,” I said and pulled up my shirt so he could see my torso. “I’ve had a bad allergic reaction.”

“This is incredible!” he said, turning me towards the light so he could see the welts.

That’s one word for it, I thought. “Awful” is another.

“I had to have an injection to stop the itching,” I explained, and showed him the bandage on my hip from the shot. “I can’t get bit again,” I said. “We need to move out.”

“Oh!” he said, sounding a little surprised. “You will want your deposit back.”

“Yes,” I said. I was prepared to negotiate to pay rent for the nights we’d stayed. At the same time, I now had hospital bills and laundry bills piling up, as did Ryan.

Our landlord pulled out his wallet. He counted a thick wad of cash. “Here is most of it. I owe you 10,000 more. I will have it tomorrow.”

We thanked him, and walked away before quietly celebrating! Of the nearly $3000 we’d given him, we’d just gotten all but $400 of it back…even if he didn’t have it tomorrow (which he did) that was a success!

As of December 3: That pretty much ended the bed bug saga. They are hearty creatures so they say it takes 8 weeks to be sure you didn’t bring them with you. It’s been nearly 12 weeks and there are no signs anywhere. We wound up staying at Dominik’s for almost a month, as house hunting round two was equally as difficult. But this time, we were less desperate and we found something much nicer for 1/3 of the cost. But that, of course, is another story!

The Interview(s)

Let me start by saying, I cannot recommend TEFL Worldwide Prague highly enough. I swear that this course is the Ivy League of TEFL Certifications, both in difficultly and prestige.Before the graduation ceremony even commenced last Friday, I had 4 invites for interviews. By Sunday, I had six interviews scheduled.

Interviewing in a foreign culture was a fun experience. While much of the formality is the same, there are some nuisances differences that were fascinating. Some of these differences were probably industry specific (for example, preparing a 15 minute demo lesson to present.) Others were perhaps more cultural, such as the company that asked me what my astrological sign is and used this as merit to decide if I was qualified to work there.

The interviews took place over the course of a week. While I can’t recount all the details, here are some highlights from each.

1. A Family Owned Language School

Michael, one of the evaluators on the TEFL program, was so kind as to refer me to this school. They are a smaller, family owned language school specializing in private, at-home lessons. They are located in the Eastern part of Prague, which is a bit of a commute, but have opportunities to work with students of all levels and all ages.

My interview however was a total disaster! I stayed up until 2:00am working on a demo lesson I could present. While it shouldn’t have taken so long to prepare, my (new) laptop kept crashing and never autosaved the file (a recurring theme with this computer. ) Once it was done, I emailed it to one of my Czech friends to print for me. She lived by the same metro stop the school is close to so she offered to bring the copies of the plans worksheets, etc. to me at 8:45 the next morning so I’d have it for my 9:00 interview.

Come 8:55, I couldn’t find her anywhere at the tram stop. Not wanting to be late to the interview, I went without the handouts. I had my tablet—which syncs to my laptop—so I figured I’d open the document on that. When I went to do so, the file just wasn’t there! Plan C, was to open it from the email that I had sent to my friend to print. Unfortunately, there was no wifi in the building.

So I faked it! From memory, I taught how to use the Infinitive of Purpose, making up examples and worksheets all by hand off the top of my head. After 15 minutes of what might has well have been tap dancing in front of a white board, I was offered the job.

2. A Teacher/Student Matching agency

This student/teacher matching service is owned by an alumni of TEFL Worldwide Prague. This was my second interview. The owner and I met at a KFC, which I learned is some of the cheapest food in Prague, and provides free re-fills. The owner was an Eagle Scout and very active in scouting as a teen. We spent the more than half of the interview talking about Scouting, and after the 90 minutes was up, he offered me the job.

3. A Language School Outside of Prague

My next interview was one of the most intriguing. The job is not actually in Prague but in Mlada Boleslav, about 40 minutes away by bus. Boleslav (as I call it) is a 10th century town, founded by King Boleslav. Today, it is home to the manufacturing plant for Skoda Auto, one of the largest Czech owned companies in the Czech Republic.

I caught the 8:40 bus to Boleslav and was there by 9:20. The recruiter met me at the bus station where we bought some pastries in a small café. She drove me around the town—which is literally one of those one stop light destinations—and gave me a nice and delightful orientation.

The predicament of Boleslav is that they have lots of high school and college students who need to pass the Cambridge English exams to either get into Universities, Study Abroad, or apply for jobs in large companies. The town needs an English teacher, and I had come highly recommended to her from TEFL Worldwide. The job offer—if accepted full time—comes with housing and a lower cost of living in Boleslav.

After they offered me the job, I took an hour or so to walk around the town. The air was crisp and fresh. There was hardly any traffic, and the old town square radiated personality. Each building was a different pastel color, with white trim that looked like frosting on a cake. It was so different than Prague, but so cozy. I love Prague, but this could be something new.

4. An After-School Program

This after-school program is also privately owned. The owner is perhaps one of the sweetest, most ambitious women in the Czech Republic. Without a set curriculum, she takes a lot of field trips and uses authentic materials (videos, books, etc) to teach her lessons. She offered me the job before the interview. It was a very competitive offer, but the hours were infrequent and irregular. I told her via email that I was likely going to decline the offer, but she insisted we meet for an interview.

We had the most delightful 2 hour conversation at a café just down the street from TEFL Worldwide. She treated me to a fantastic cup of cocoa and regaled me with stories of her travels around the world. In the end, I declined her offer, but I am going to join her English speaking Pub Trivia team that meets once a month.

5. A Language School

This was the largest school I interviewed with. They have over 500 teachers, teaching dozens of languages to foreigners. They train languages in every field, from doctors and laywers, to people who want to travel, to students prepping for college, and beyond. They are one of the three largest language schools in the Czech Republic (different sources rank them differently, but with the same 3 consistently appearing as top 3).

With a full library of training materials, a teachers lounge, wifi throughout the building, professional development opportunities, and a new teacher mentoring program, they have an awesome program. This was also my smoothest interview. I was in my element teaching the demo lesson and it couldn’t have gone better. In the end, I was offered the job.

Due to the high number of resources and overhead, this was the least competitive offer I received. There are some externality perks to working at the school full time–free public transportation passes, free Czech lessons, etc—but the pay is pretty average. The woman interviewing me felt bad she couldn’t offer more.

6. TEFL Prague Worldwide

The most flattering and humbling offer I received came from TEFL Worldwide Prague. Right after I graduated, I was invited to apply to be a Teacher Evaluator. In this role, I would work with new teacher trainees on lesson planning, teaching methodology, grammar, as well as all of the skills I just spent a month learning. I have no bad habits yet, so I can teach what I know to the letter.

I accepted this offer immediately when it was given to me. It will be an incredible experience to work for such a globally renowned training program. There is obviously a lot of training I will need to become a teacher trainer, but I am so excited about the possibilities.

The final decision

There is so much to choose from. The consistent advice we have gotten is to (a) work for more than one school and (b) try to teach about 22 hours a week .

The reason to work for more than one school is so you don’t have all of your income from one source. This is especially true because of the seasonal nature of teaching. Some schools won’t have classes in the summer, others taper off in the winter, while others vary the length of their courses. Having income from multiple sources hedges the risk of being short on cash one month.

The magic number of 22 hours a week assumes that for each hour of teaching, there is an associated hour of lesson planning. While the time spent lesson planning will decrease as we settle into a rhythm (hopefully) 22 is a good number to make a livable wage and have some free time to travel while abroad.

Update: As of November 7, 2016

So what do I do exactly?

I accepted the offers from TEFL Worldwide and the school in Boleslav.

Four afternoons a week, I am at TEFL worldwide, observing teaching practice sessions and crafting personalized feedback for 3 teacher trainees each day. Two mornings a week, I am the in house English teacher for an engineering company in Prague, where we work on everything from basic grammar to English for networking events to accounting in English (engineering and accounting–it plays to my strengths…kind of. ) One day a week, I go to Boleslav and teach exam prep classes to students ranging from 13 to 67. I have a class of three middle school girls, a class of 10 high school aged kids, and a class of four adults. My schedule is filled out to 28 hours a week with a few private students-some of whom I found through the Student/Teacher matching agency, and others who were referrals from TEFL Worldwide.

I couldn’t be happier with how things worked out. I love teaching and I definitely see it as part of my future.

A Cultural Experience

It’s fun to travel and realize how many of the social constructs in our world are purely in our heads. For example, talking about your income is not offensive or taboo in China. Kissing is not a purely intimate gesture in much of Europe or the Middle East, but merely a greeting between friends. Topics of politics, religion, and family values differ around the world, muddying the lines between what is purely right and what is more subjective.

I got to experience that today at the Elizabeth Spa.

Our friend back home who had financed our trip to Karlovy Vary had suggested that the Spa treatment would be a cultural experience, and he didn’t lie. As I mentioned in the post before, the Karlovy Vary Spas are really medical facilities. Many of the more intense massages or other treatments require a prescription or evaluation from a doctor.

But we did the basic, “over-the-counter” spa treatment, which included a 20 minute soak in a mineral bath, and a 45 minute massage. I read that there are two schools of thought. Some would say you should get a massage first and then soak to let the muscles heal. The Czech school is that you should soak first to relax the muscles and make them more pliable for the massage.

When we arrived, we went upstairs to find one of the workers. She was probably in her sixties, and spoke almost no English. I gave her my reservation slip and she led me into a room while Ryan waited outside. It was peach in color, with a white stool, a wooden platform long enough to lay on, and a stainless steel bathtub.

The woman began filling the bathtub with the mineral water. She turned to me and pointed at the tub. “Undress all,” she said and pulled on her the collar of her shirt.

I thought I understood. I had brought a bathing suit in my bag because I wasn’t sure about the dress code at a spa treatment. Apparently, she was telling me, that when I did get in the bath, I should not wear it.

She continued to fill the tub and gestured for me to try the water. I touched it with my hand and it was fine.

“Undress all,” she said, a little more emphatically than before. I smiled and nodded and repeated, “Yes, all.”

She pointed at the stool in the corner, and very emphatically said, “Now undress all.”

Oh! I had kind of assumed she was readying the tub and would then leave for my “treatment.” But then again, I know that Europe doesn’t make the same big deal out of nudity that we do in the States, so I guess I could start to undress to save time.

I took off my shoes and stuffed my socks into them. I pulled off my shirt and folded it onto the bench, and then did the same with my shorts. I stood there in my boxers, again, figuring she would leave before I got into the tub.

Again, she turned and said, “No! All!”

Oh! I guess this is part of that difference. In the states, spas are purely for relaxation. I was here for a medical treatment. Not needing to be told a fifth time, I took off my underwear and put it with my clothes on the stool.

I walked over to the tub and swung one leg over the edge. She took my hand to steady me while I lifted my other leg and lowered myself into the tub.

“Okay?” she asked.

I forced a smile, still very aware of how naked I was, and said, “Okay!” She pointed at a pillow that was in arms reach for me, and then said, “Twenty minutes.” With that, she set a timer, left the room, and locked the door.

I reached for the pillow, which was inflatable, and put it behind my head to relax. The mineral water was not particularly warm, but did have a natural effervescne about it. In a way, it was like soaking in a cup full of freshly poured Sprite. It was relaxing.

In those 20 minutes, I replayed nearly every minute of my adventure so far

…of the tear-filled goodbye in the airport

…of the desperate panic attack on the airplane of not wanting it to take off

…of arriving in Iceland and discovering I was stranded

…of exploring Rekjavik

…of my cab driver in Iceland who only like Mercedes

…of schlupping my things to the Heathrow bus station

…of sipping wine and eating meat pies with Steve and Donna

…of exploring Shakespeare’s childhood home

…of arriving in Prague and rediscovering everything

…of meeting the other trainees on the TEFL course

…of that “ah-ha” moment in my first Czech lesson on the course

…of my first 15 minutes of student teaching

…of the mind bending grammar I’d just learned

…of my one-to-one tutorial assignment and the 27 page paper that followed

…of sleepless nights, early mornings, and intense 6 hours of lecture

…of dancing the night away with these new friends

…of Saturday markets, buying fish and chips out of a van

…of live streaming church

…of graduating with distinction in my course

…of the reception after the graduation party

…of saying goodbye again to everyone

…of moving to our new apartment

It all flooded back, it all melted away, and if I could turn back time, I would do it all again! I’m so happy with my decision to move to Prague. And this adventure has been nothing shy of perfect.

After 20 minutes, the lady returned. I climbed out of the tub and she wrapped a bed sheet around me. She told me to lie down on the wooden platform for 5 minutes. I did, and when she returned, she told me to get dressed.

After I did, I went outside of the room. She pointed to another room to indicate that’s where Ryan was. “Three minutes,” she said. I nodded and waited for him. When he came out, we thanked the lady and went downstairs to find our massages.

Again, we parted company as we went into separate rooms for our massages. The lady again was in her sixties and spoke broken english. She pointed to a stool and said, “Take all off.”

I understood this time, and again removed my shirt, shorts, and shoes. I tugged on the elastic of my boxers and said, “off?” Even when I get a massage back home, I normally leave my boxers on.

She said, “yes” with an expression on her face that conveyed “duh!” I took them off and added them to the pile.

“Where you are from?” she asked me.

“America,” I said.

“Oh America,” she said.

I nodded.

“Do you think Donald Trump will be president?”

Really? I thought. Could we have this conversation when I’m not standing here naked?

“I don’t know,” I chuckled.

“On back,” she said, pointing to the massage table.

There were a few notable differences from this massage and any other massage I’ve ever gotten. For one, the radio was on. It’s not to say the music wasn’t relaxing, because it was. It was all soft rock, Coldplay, type stuff that created a nice atmosphere of reverie. The commercials, which were in Czech were less relaxing. In fact, the Slavic interruptions could be a bit jarring.

The massage started with me laying on my back instead of my stomach. Most massages I’ve had have started with my back, moved to my legs, then my arms, and my shoulders. This started with my quads, then my forearms, then my shoulders. I then rolled over and she worked on my hamstrings and calves.

She also massaged my butt. I have never had a butt massage before and I swear, my own parents did not spend so much time touching my bottom when they changed my diapers as a baby. I apparently carry a lot of tension in my butt, because it was a thorough butt massage.

My back was the last, but also longest part of the massage. She did not use a lot of pressure, but it was relaxing.

Aside from the bottom rub, the other part that was strange to me, is that I was uncovered the entire time. Normally in the states, there is a blanket over me for warmth, and my butt and genitals are covered the entire time. Here, I was just laying naked on a table.

I knew that the US was a prudish culture. We have all those puritanical roots that have made nudity a very taboo subject. I also knew that Europe was not as shy about nudity. I’ve always kind respected this. While the US associates nakedness with sexuality, the reality is, there is nothing particularly sexual about being naked. That said, its one thing to respect cavalier nudity it’s another to have sixty year old Russian women telling you to strip as if it’s perfectly normal instruction.

But there is almost something calming about being naked. Once you’re naked, the embarrassment quickly fades. It takes some guts to get naked, but once you’re there, it’s not like you can get any more naked. You ease into it and it quickly becomes less weird.

It was a relaxing massage. When it was over, I got dressed and went upstairs to meet Ryan. We went for dinner–at what was probably a tourist trap–and enjoyed a hearty meal of wild boar goulash. While we’d assumed we could catch any bus home, it turned out the next two were completely sold out. We bought tickets for the late bus, and went to a café to work on lesson planning.

And when our bus did get back to Prague, I was struck with a familiar feeling I hadn’t experienced since studying abroad. Arriving in Prague felt familiar. It was like coming home.

I think its quickly becoming home.

Hot Water and a Breath of Fresh Air

Ryan and I have a friend back in the States who has been to the Czech Republic before and has been so kind as to share travel tips and suggestions with us for adventures around Bohemia. He was a great resource to me the last time I was in Prague, and this time, provided us advice and funding to take a trip to Karlovy Vary. I’d like to start this post by thanking him for his generosity and for making all of the fun memories below possible!

Karlovy Vary was our first adventure outside of Prague. After the long month of sleepless nights studying, the hassle of moving to our new apartment, and chaos of interviewing and looking for a job, a day trip out of the city was a welcomed escape.

The city is commonly known by it’s German name “Carlsbad” and is located near the eastern border between Bohemia an Duetschland. The population of the mountain town is largely Russian, with a heavy German influence, but as we discovered, it has been a site of rest and relaxation for generations around the world.

We caught an early bus out of Prague and slept most of the way to Karlovy Vary. When we arrived, we made our way to the tourist information desk to get more information on a few sites in Prague. Our friend had told us–and all of our research had confirmed–that the thing to do in Karlovy Vary was get a spa treatment. Spas in Czech culture have a different connotation than they do in the States. While both are intended to be relaxing, spas here are viewed as medical facilities, with doctors on site and everything. A basic massage and soak in the mineral baths is open to the public, but many of the other procedures (mud baths, sensory deprivation, hot rocks, etc) require an evaluation and prescription from a doctor.

There are 5 spas in town that offer the usual “Karlovy Vary” treatments. We made appointments at Spa #5 (Alzbetiny, which means “Elizabeth”) for the afternoon. For the morning, we took to exploring the colonnades.

The colonnades are the richest, most cultural aspect of the village. The outdoor pavilions house various hot springs where the natural, heated mineral water beneath Karlovy Vary bubbles to the surface. Locals carry these ceramic cups from spring to spring sipping the mineral water, which is believed to provide not only relaxation, but also curative properties for digestive and rheumatic disorders. The cups look like a small, flattened teacup, but the handle doubles as a straw to sip water, so it doesn’t burn your lips.

There must have been over 20 different springs, housed in the different colonnades. The water temperatures ranged as did the ratio of minerals to water at each bubbling fountain. In general, the taste was sort of a sweet, metallic flavor. It was one of those flavors that causes your mouth to cringe at first, but relax into the aftertaste. After a few sips, it really is enjoyable, and incredibly relaxing.

Each colonnade has its own unique character too. The market colonnade was my favorite, as it felt like a mideval city center right off the river, with places to tie up horses, swirling wooden arches overhead, and a beautiful clock tower on top. There was another colonnade that looked entirely like a roman temple, one that felt like and outdoor garden, and then the newest one–built by the USSR–that looked like a cement cube and had a sleek, sterile, and modern interior.

We spent most of the morning hoping from fountain to fountain along the river front and sipping water. There are warnings in guidebooks that first timers often over do it on the mineral water and find the laxative properties to be particularly strong, but neither of us had any problems. We also ducked into the Church of Mary Magdalene, which turned out to have a more beautiful façade than interior, but was still a nice view.

I think Ryan would agree with me that a highlight of the day was the Hotel Grand Pup. This Hotel has been used in countless Hollywood movies as a kitschy, european looking building. It radiates opulence both in the lobby, and the front courtyard. It was a filming location for the recent Casino Royale 007 movie, as well as the setting for Queen Latifah’s Last Holiday.

For us though, the magical moment was seeing the bricks in the driveway of the hotel courtyard. Each is inscribed with the name of a well known guest who has frequented the hotel. This patrons range from Alan Alda to Franz Kafka. Karl Marx was a routine visitor, as was Beethoven and Adolf Hitler. These moments in travel when I realize I am standing in the footprints of history always give me chills. Not to mention, the hotel is located on the river bend with breathtaking views in both directions.

From there, we took a funicular up to the Dianna Tower. There really is no historical significance to this stone lookout tower, other than every town builds something tall for tourists to go up. This did offer a beautiful view of all of Karlovy Vary. The architecture is so different from Prague, but grand nonetheless, and it was nice to be tucked in the mountains for a day and out of the bustling city. It was also interesting to get above the hills and see what appeared to be a nuclear power plant on the horizon. The Czech Republic has been voted one of the top 10 greenest countries in the world and is rapidly moving away from coal and oil as sources of energy.

We ate lunch of kolbasa at the bottom of the tower. There was a small, petting zoo with baby pigs and goats near by. Instead of taking the funicular down, we decided to walk to see a monument (called “The Liepstag”) that was hidden in the hills. It turned out to be a giant obelisk, and we are still not sure what all of the fanfare and signage pointing to the monument was all about. But either way, it was a nice, almost rustic hike that again, provided a breath of fresh air.

Our next stop was an Eastern Orthodox church. While I’ve been in cathedrals, temples, and mosques, this was my first Eastern Orthodox experience. The architecture of the blue and white building looked almost middle eastern, with those onion shaped spires on the top of each tower. Inside, the sanctuary was dark and covered in earth toned mosaic tiles. There were beautiful chandeliers and haunting depictions of the crucifixion. There was also a box to write and submit prayer requests to the church.

A historical figure who is memorialized around Karlovy Vary is Tomas Masaryk. Masaryk was a Czech national, and good friend of Woodrow Wilson, who brought about the creation of Czechoslovakia at the fall of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. While I can’t find a specific tie between him and Karlovy Vary, there are several statues dedicated to him (perhaps even that strange oblisk in the woods).

At this point, it was time for our spa treatments. The treatments were an adventure in and of themselves, so I’ll save that story for another post.

Ex-Pat Life

It’s hard describing life here to other people. Sometimes it feels like one long vacation, but most of the time it feels like the hardest I’ve ever worked in my life. While some days are intense, it is a lot of fun and it always works out. But it’s hard to put that into words.
For example, there are certain life experiences you have as an ex-pat that you don’t have as a citizen. Here are a few notable events so far.

House Hunting

Despite the glamour of the HGTV special, International house hunting is entirely a painful, near maddening process.

Housing lingo in the Czech Republic is considerably different than in the states (that is if and when it is translated to English.) The size of a property is described in the number of rooms and kitchenettes. For example, a unit that is described as a 2+1 has 2 rooms and a kitchen. Essentially, those 2 rooms could be living rooms, bedrooms, etc. (whatever the tenant wants) and then there is a separate kitchen. This is different from a 2+kk, which has 2 rooms, and the kitchen is in one of the rooms.

Rent is the same idea as it back home–the monthly payment for living in the property, due on the first day of the month. “Utilities,” however, refers to building maintenance fees. Water, gas, electric, and wifi are all separate expenses and are paid on a fixed payment schedule. You pay a set rate for water, gas, electric, and wifi. Then, a few times a year, someone from the company comes to read your meter. If you’ve over paid, you get money back. If you owe, you are billed at that time.

For Ryan and I, the stress of apartment hunting was exacerbated by the fact we graduated the TEFL program at the same time all of the exchange students were arriving in Prague. As a result, properties came on and off the market in a matter of minutes. One second it was available, the next it was taken. When we did contact a landlord in time for a showing, we were often somewhere between the 10th-20th person to do so. They would show the property to everyone who contacted them, and then from the list of interested applicants select someone to take it.

So, Ryan and I searched for about 2 weeks. We probably contacted north of 40 landlords. When we finally found a property–right off of Charles Square, just a 6 minute walk from the heart of the city center–where we were the first to contact the landlord, we vehemently insisted that we wanted the unit. Not to mention, it was an all inclusive price–the rent included the rent, the utilities, water, gas, electric, and WiFi.

We got it!

Visa

The Czech Republic actually makes it very easy for entrepreneurial business people to immigrate to the country. They have a particular visa (which no one can pronounce the Czech name of, so it is colloquially called a “zivno”) that allows you to be a self-employed contractor in the Czech Republic and then bill your employer for your time.

The steps to getting the Zivno are relatively straightforward. You need housing, and the landlord has to sign and notarize two documents. The first states that you do in fact live at that address. The second gives you permission to use that address for the purpose of conducting business.

The next step is to go to do a criminal background check. For non-EU or non-American citizens, they require an official, government background check. For Americans, all we have to do is go to the US embassy and swear an oath before the consulate general that we have never been convicted of a crime in the States. The consular then issues an affidavit that you have sworn the oath and this is submitted with the visa application (more on this below.)

The final step is to apply for a long stay visa. Much of continental Europe is part of the Schengen Zone, which is an agreement that allows for borderless travel among member countries. This is important for commerce, as trade within Europe makes up 1/3 of the global economy. Americans are allowed to visit the Schengen Zone for 90 days every 180 days. When you arrive in a Schengen country, your 90 day clock starts counting down. If you leave the Schengen zone, it pauses, but until you are gone for 90 days, it doesn’t reset. In order to stay for more time, you need a long stay visa.

Long stay visas cannot be applied for in-country. This is partially because, in theory, you would arrange for the visa before arriving in the country. In my case, I needed the teaching certificate and housing before I could apply, I have to leave the country and go apply. (There will be more on this later as well.)

After I apply for the visa, the Czech government has 90 days to accept or reject my application. If I am accepted, I will be able to stay in country for anywhere from an additional 90 days to 1 year (its entirely up to the government what time period they will issue my visa for.) I will go back to my interview site to pick it up, and the final step will be to register with the foreign department as an officially legal immigrant in Prague.

TEFL Worldwide works with an agency to help teachers through the process. My agent is Hany, and I affectionately refer to her as my “lawyer.”

Embassy

Most citizens probably never visit their own embassy. Its quite a fascinating experience to do so.

When Ryan and I went to the US Embassy to meet with the consulate and swear our oaths, we had to book appointments online. The embassy is on the castle side of the river, tucked up behind St. Nicholas’ Church. As you get closer, security in the area becomes notably more visible. Even before you approach the building decorated with the star spangled banner, officers are stopping every car on the street and using a mirror to look beneath the under carriage of the car.

I was surprised that most people working at the embassy were actually Czech. Two guards at the door asked to see our passports and reservation confirmations. Once we cleared that door, there was a security checkpoint. We had to empty our pockets and take any electronics out of our bags. Our bags were scanned, each electronic item was scanned individually, and we had to walk through metal detectors. The X-ray scan revealed that I had a stow away USB drive in my bag I was unaware I’d brought to Europe. After we emptied the bag and opened every pocket, the USB and bag were each scanned again. All of our stuff–including our cell phones, Ryan’s laptop, and my USB–was then kept in a cubby behind the security check point, and we were given claim tickets to come back for it at the end. We were also given ID badges to wear on our lapels indicating we had cleared security.

And just like that…we were back on American soil.

There were posters and signs down the main corridor, many with information about how to vote from abroad. When we got to the main hall, it basically looked like a DMV. There was a touchscreen monitor asking what services we required. After we selected that we needed an affidavit, it spit out a numbered ticket for each of us, and we took a seat. All around the hall were photos of national parks in the United States. In one corner where some toys clearly designated as a kids area.

There was no one else in the main hall waiting for a consulate. My number came up just seconds after I sat down. A woman appeared at one of the windows and called me. In a Czech accent, she asked for my passport, and generated the forms. I was then sent to window one to pay the $50 fee. After a few more minutes, I was called to a third window. This one had a privacy curtain for me to shut. On the other side of the glass was a consular.

In an American accent he asked me to raise my right hand. “Do you so swear and affirm, under perjury of law in the United States of America, that everything on this document is true to the best of your knowledge.”

“I do,” I said.

He stamped it, signed it, and slid it under the glass to me. After Ryan did the same, we were on our way.

What Next

Its slowly sinking in for me that this is real. As I was sipping my beer and writing my paper the other night, I realized that when I was waiting for the train in the main terminal of the airport back home, my brain sort of slipped into a fog. It’s been like a coping mechanism or something to push out the pain of leaving. There are moments where I fully expect to wake up back in my room.

Who knows how long this all will last, but for now, the adventure continues! Graduation is tomorrow, and then the real fun begins.