Abroad in Prague 2012

This might be a little late to the party, but perhaps you miss me and desperately want to stay in contact. What ever should you do? I present the unnecessarily exhaustive guide to ruining my semester abroad by sucking me back into your life in the States:

Use social networks. Obviously I like my social networks. It’s my major and such. You can expect to find me journaling through Tumblr, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, etc., (Sorry, Google+!) so you can let me know that you too have visited that restaurant or riden that camel. While I can’t stay absorbed in Twitter and other instantaneous platforms like I can at home, I’ll do my best to notice anything directly addressed to me.

If you have an iPhone… Send me an iMessage! Just because I’m abroad doesn’t mean you have to use a new gizmo to contact me. Read more »

I really do love this city. And for the most part, I love the people that inhabit it. There isn’t much diversity here — save a few vietnamese store owners and  the pockets of tourists — but the Czech people are diverse on their own. Many are, like we’d been warned, quite reserved; notably, those using public transit sit neatly and raise eyebrows at small, informal conversation or sniffling of the nose. They’d never make a scene on the metro.

My assumption was that the Czechs would dislike Americans. I figured they would be bothered by groups of American teenagers taking over their pubs, drinking their beer and spoiling their quiet tram ride to work. But it’s really the opposite: they love Americans! They play our music in clubs, watch our movies with subtitles, (fail to) cook our food in trendy restaurants, laugh at (my) jokes and often reprint menus, signs, receipts and flyers in English. And when things aren’t spelled out in English, they play charades until it’s obvious. Try saying děkuji (thank you) or dobrý den (good day) and they’ll get all giddy at your attempt to speak Czech.

They can also be a little aggressive. I was headed down an escalator in the shady metro the other night when a burly gentleman in what I believed was a gang pointed to me and made the Uncle Sam “YOU!” gesture at me. I panicked. Read more »

Ahoj!

Well, I have arrived. The trip was exhausting; one nearly-empty AA flight to London, a 4-hour layover in Heathrow, a 2-hour flight to Prague, lots of idling and a long bus ride to the residence hall. I haven’t a clue how long the trip took in total, only that I arrived with enough energy to unpack one suitcase, play with the oven and soak in the neighborhood.

I am living in a former industrial area of Prague called Holešovice in a converted meat factory. The building (called Osadni) is further from the NYU campus than the other residential options, but its splendor is worth the distance. They’re really spoling us; we have thrice-weekly maid service, a dishwasher, an exhaustive supply of cleaning supplies, two fridges—one for produce and one for beverages—and essential linens, dishes, and cookware. The top floor houses a study lounge, TV lounge, terrace and laundry facilities.

With 6 days to go until my flight next Monday, I’ve entered the packing rush. That is, I am running around looking for ways to fit four months of myself into a 50-pound Travel Gear luggage (and a carry-on). Yeah, right.

Might I need furry socks? Sure! Cocktail umbrellas? Pancake molds? If I didn’t leave myself a week to sort through my belongings I’d have an entire checked bag of emergency kitchen gadgets. I’m having a hard enough time picturing my life without the Magic Bullet, let alone the rest of my crap.

But I made a promise to myself: let Fight Club‘s mantra “The things you own end up owning you” scare me into stripping down to the essentials. What do I really need to be me?

Read more »