Ahoj!

I am sitting on cold cement at the train station in Prague. Soon we will board the train leaving for Vienna. The sky is blue and the sun is shining. Its been excellent warm weather all week, though there was rain the night we arrived.

It just occurred to me that Thom Yorke has waited at this same train station. Just some Radiohead trivia for you.

Yesterday we took a pleasant boat ride down the Vltava River, and met a woman from Washington DC and an old German doctor. The lady from DC was inspired to visit Prague after reading a book by Mike Hamil--or some name similar to that. Her daughter lives in Menlo Park! Small world...

I'm surprized to find more people than I expected to speak English...

Now I'm seated by the window on the train, listening to a song about being "strung out on cocaine." We're passing through a forest of birches and I'm thinking of horrible things involving cattle cars on these same tracks during WWII. The radio stations are beginning to disappear into static as we plunge deeper into the country.

Yesterday we explored the huge square where Jan Palak set himself on fire in protest to the Communist Revolution that was forced on Czechoslovakia by the Soviets in '68. Palak set himself aflame aside a fellow student (whose name I can't remember now). Both are memorialized on the steps of the former parliamentary building by a cross surrounded by many flowers which people leave in vases and plant in the soil by their names. Marigolds, orchids and roses are to be found everywhere.

I like the types who make up much of the Czech population. Very bohemian (obviously), very liberal, harmonious, peace-loving and freedom-loving people. They are sweet and sympathetic people and extremely individualistic. Their eyes are so searching and observant of everything around them. I can say that after a week of being in Prague, I feel a strong kinship to the Czechs and I feel more proud of my Czech heritage.

Prague is full of art, theater and music. And strange unexpected surprizes that make you think you wandered into a circus by mistake. Like the girl I saw wandering up and down Wenceslas Square, dressed in a large white box with poetic social commentary on each side of the box. Under that she wore black and her face was white like a pantomime's. The first performance art I have witnessed in my life.

departure - arrival