Carnival?

On Saturday, something strange happened in Old Town Square. There was some sort of carnival type thing going on. There was a circle of spectators, and people on stilts, and a costume contest. I’m not sure what else to say… The whole thing seemed a little half-assed. Here are some pictures.


The Carnival MC and his Vesper Gang.


Creepy stilt people.


One of these spectators is not like the others...


A leaping, goat-person.


I think Radagast and his red-nosed military officer won the costume contest?

Lean Your Head Back Please

So, my private student was sick last week, so we didn’t have our next lesson until this past Thursday. I come in at our scheduled time, and the receptionist sits me down to wait for my student. She’s cutting someone’s hair, and doesn’t acknowledge that I’m there. Time passes. She’s still cutting hair. Doesn’t bother greeting me. Eventually, after twenty minutes, she walks to the register, takes some money out, and brusquely puts it in my hand. She still isn’t feeling well, so she’s going to have to cancel the lesson. Oh, and she forgot about it. Then, she realizes how she can use me… She has an employee whose English is crap. She knows nothing. She wants me to work with this girl and help her memorize/pronounce a bunch of English phrases that will be useful at the salon. So, for twenty minutes or so, we drill things like: “Do you want your hair straight, or layered?” “I will put a towel on your shoulders.” and “lean your head back please.”

Yeah…

Don Juan

I just came back from a play at the Estate Theater (a beautiful old theater, where Mozart, ironically, premiered, and personally conducted his opera, Don Giovanni). Ruth and I went to see Don Juan. We had originally gone to get tickets to Swan Lake, but, as we went at the last minute, it was sold out. So we got tickets to this instead. Oops.

First of all, the play was (not surprisingly) entirely in Czech. “That’s ok,” we thought. “It’s a famous story. We’ll just read a synopsis beforehand and we’ll be able to figure out what’s going on through the action.” Wrong. This play made entirely no sense – in any language.

First of all, Don Juan is a story about a ladies man. He seduces many women. That’s what the whole thing is about. In this version, Don Juan seduces no women. In fact, there are barely any women in the play. Instead, Don Juan spends his time standing around in abstract spaces, talking to old men – while wearing ridiculous outfits. Casanova he is not.

Secondly, what is this cavalcade of weirdos? The guy in the diaper? The old, shirtless man wearing a tie? The woman in white with the crazy platinum hair? And the wrestler, whose muscles are drawn onto his torso with magic marker, and who winds up being tased by one of the old men? Why are there sporadic, solo musical numbers? These actors can’t sing. Someone make them stop.

As if this wasn’t bad enough, the second act begins with a multimedia segment. On the back wall of the stage, a video is projected. In the video, a man in a luchador mask is in a men’s room with a woman. After relieving himself into one of the urinals, he hands the woman a gun. She shoots herself. Then, he leaves. Yeah…

As we left the theater, we decided that, from now on, we won’t be going to any more plays.

They Come From Communism

As you can infer from previous posts, the Czech people are not the friendliest. My students are all great. They’re warm and friendly and open. But the general attitude on the street is icy.

The people living in our apartment building are also… less than friendly… Especially the people living directly below us. I haven’t been here for this, but, three times in the last month and a half, my roommates have been yelled at for making too much noise. Granted, once was a party, but another time, they were playing charades. Charades! That’s a silent game. And the women came up and started screaming at my roommate in Czech.

So, my one roommate, Ruth, has been yelled at by this woman on three separate occasions. But, if Ruth is ever coming up to the front door to the apartment, and the lady that lives below us happens to be leaving the building, and Ruth grabs the open door and walks in, the lady will flip out, and yell at her, asking Ruth if she lives here. “I’m sorry. Remember me? You’ve certainly yelled in my face enough. I live above you…”

Everyone just seems to be a little on edge and suspicious of others. Which prompted us to ask the question, “Where do these people come from?”

Ruth’s reply: They come from Communism.

Haircut!

I recently got a private student. I actually came recommended to her from the TEFL school I went to. I guess it sometimes pays to be the biggest wiseass in the room…

Yesterday I met up with her for our first lesson. We were supposed to meet in Old Town Square, by the big statue. When I arrived, I got a call from her. “I’m in my car.” I look around and see her waving her arm from the window of a brand-new BMW. I get in. She says that she couldn’t find a jacket, so she had to take the car. She then drives 200 yards around the corner to where we’re having our lesson – the hair salon she owns. She finds a parking spot about 200 yards from the salon.

She tells me that she just went running with a friend, so she needs to have her hair washed. She sits down at the washing sink and calls one of her employees over to wash her hair. Then, she tells me to sit down next to her and start the lesson. "Um… While your head is tilted back, getting your hair washed?" I don’t say this, but rather imply it. She doesn’t care. On with the lesson!

After her hair is washed, we move into a quieter, private, facial(?) room. We sit across a large dentist-office style chair covered in towels (you know, for facials). As soon as we begin the lesson again, another employee enters with a hairdryer. The next half hour of lesson is conducted while screaming over the noise of the hairdryer. Great stuff… I think she learned a lot…

When the lesson was finished, I asked her how much a haircut costs. “550 kc” she says. “For a men’s haircut?” I ask. “That’s a lot.” She tells me that, if I don’t mind being a model for a stylist in training, she’ll give me a haircut for free. Free haircut? Why not? I get penciled in for later in the day.

So, I come back later in the afternoon. While I’m waiting, my student comes up to me and says “behind you, in the chair by the window, is the former President’s wife. Don’t look now.”

“Wow… She must have some high profile clientele,” I think. “This is going to be a great haircut.” Yeah… Don’t get ahead of yourself, Seth…

The girl who cut my hair seemed to have no idea of what she was doing. She refused to just grab a chunk and cut it (despite its length). She even dropped the scissors at one point. When she stopped for me to look at it, it was a shapeless mess. Spikes of hair were going every which way. My ears were still covered. I looked ridiculous. I don’t think she’d ever cut a man’s hair before…

After another unsuccessful attempt at cutting, the owner (my student) jumped in to salvage the job. The end result turned out to be ok. But, man, was I nervous for a while there…

Danone Factory!

On Mondays, I have classes in a town about a 45-minute bus-ride from Prague called Benesov.

In Europe, the yoghurt brand that Americans call “Dannon”, is actually spelled (and pronounced) “Danone”. The company has one factory in the Czech Republic. It is in Bensov. This is where I teach English on Mondays.

One of my students is the head of packaging. Last Monday, he gave me a tour of the factory. I even got to wear this cool outfit:


[Why am I in my apartment in this picture? Because I stuffed my paper lab-coat into my bag when no one was looking, that’s why. Hey! It was a gift. They’re not reusing those things…]

Fun facts about the Benesov Danone factory:

1. They supply 99% of the Czech Republics Danone products.
2. The above figure is only 60% of their output.
3. The rest is exported all over Europe.

Wanna hear more?

1. There are only 50 Danone factories in the world.
2. About half of them are in Europe.
3. North America has only 3 Dannon factories. 3! And they produce the entire supply.

And I learned all about how Danone yoghurt is made! Wanna hear? No? Ok. I didn’t feel like telling you anyway…