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SATA Prague Fall 1999
Student Reflections
"If someone asked my advice on where to go to study abroad in Europe, I'd ask
them if they had any interest in sitting right in the heart of Europe
in one of the most beautiful cities this continent has. Prague is a dream.
Many people refer to it as the Magic City, and indeed it is. It is truly
the most beautiful city I've ever seen. Anyone who enjoys beauty, history,
or art would love Prague. It is one of the only cities in Europe where
you can see 900 years of diverse architectural elements in a mélange
of churches, restaurants and apartments, untouched by the bombs of WWII.
Almost a millennium of history is contained in the very walls of Prague.
And the more recent history is in the faces of the people." Sarah Ferguson
'01
"I really miss Prague and the whole experience of traveling. It was phenomenal
to see all those places and meet people." Eric Levai '01
"Professor Eckert, you're the one to be blamed for
letting us take a glimpse into that amazing world of Prague and then forcing us
to come back to the old Connecticut." Evangelia Sinouris '01
The following generally expresses my feelings toward my
Prague SATA experience: It was absolutely fabulous!!!" Serge Rudnyak, '02
KOSTJA's story
Christopher Portante '01
Why did I choose Prague for Study Away?
My first intention in regards to studying
abroad my junior year was to spend the entire year in Russia, however it seemed
a bit daunting to spend a whole year in one place. The opportunity to study for a semester in another part of
Eastern Europe was one that I could not ignore, especially since I would be
able to go with Professor Eckert, whom I respect and who knows more about the
Prague than anyone I had met before. What I had heard and read about
Prague was amazing. My previous study
was focused mainly on Russia; Czechs like Russians, are Slavs, yet very
different from Russians. I wanted to expand my knowledge of Eastern
Europe and I excited about learning another Slavic language.
Once in Prague, I was bombarded by its history which was all around me.
We lived on the cusp of the Old Town and the New Town surrounded by great
events of the past. As an American whose nation is so young in
comparison, I learned what it was like to be part of such an old place. I
was awestruck by things that I was able to see on daily or even hourly basis. Although I lived with Americans, I tried to
immerse myself in the Czech lifestyle as much as possible. I used Czech,
however grammatically incorrect, whenever possible. I tried to blend in.
I listened to people, looked around at signs, places and people, and took in as
much as I could. I took pleasure in the path to my destinations. Even if
it was the same every day, like my walk from the dorm to school, it was, in
fact, always different. I was forever noticing new things, looking in new
directions, seeing new people and hearing new words. Everything was exciting,
even going to buy bread or taking a tram to church on Sunday morning.
Velvet Revolution
We were in Prague at a very special time. A whole week of events was planned to
commemorate the tenth anniversary of the Velvet Revolution and the fall of
Communism in Czechoslovakia. On the 17th of November, 1989 a group led
mainly by students took to the streets to protest Czechoslovak Communism. In 1968, Jan Palach, a student, burned
himself alive at the top of Wenceslas Square in front of the National Museum in
protest of the Soviet invasion. People mourned his death for weeks.
An important square in the city eventually took his name, but for years the
government suppressed the public's desire to mourn his death and remember him
as a martyr. There was a plaque placed at the spot where his burned body
fell-for a while at least. When the government saw that people came back
to it day after day, they decided to place a major thoroughfare between the
equestrian statue of St. Wenceslas and the National Museum, wiping out this
pilgrimage place for so many Czechs. The leaders thought he and his cause
would be forgotten if there were cars speeding over the spot of his death.
I remember where I was on November 17th, 1999. Czechs
had told me that there would be little commemoration of the event because, in general, Czechs are not big on state holidays and commemoration. It reminds them too much of Communism. All
of that pomp of May Day parades and such was not at all missed by most of the
population. So on that night, I went to a pub near the outskirts of town
with a few people from our program, a pub where student bands came to play jazz
and rock to celebrate the day and the life of Martin Smid, a mathematics
student caught up in a peculiar plot ten years earlier. In fact, most of
the people on the National Street on November 17th 1989 were university
students, just like us. Could I imagine
myself as one of those people? At the pub concert, I was one of very few
Americans amongst young Czechs. I felt separated by language and culture and
common experience. Yet I also felt connected to them in celebration of good's
triumph over evil and in the relief of human suffering. It was an evening I
will not soon forget...
On the Saturday following the 17th, there was a tongue-in-cheek re-creation of
certain aspects of Communism on Wenceslas Square. Amidst one of the most
capitalistic areas of Prague, people were reliving Communism. Some actors
were hired and the rest just played along. It was a lighthearted criticism of
Communism, I would say, but a biting one, nonetheless. The visible contradictions
were humorous at the least. The fact that it was held on Wenceslas Square
with advertisements all around was one. Then I saw a uniformed Communist soldier (actor, of course) drinking
Dunkin' Donuts coffee. Even I was caught up in the play, escorted into
the charade by a Czech acquaintance. No, I had not lived through it, but
here I was taking part in a recreation of it - strange to say the least. I
was persuaded to pose as the head of the American Communist Party and became a
player in the show as I was escorted into the party office, offered gifts and
engaged in a conversation with someone playing the party chief. I tried to fit into the role as much as possible. We parted
with fraternal embraces and "Long live Communism!" It was odd
for me to be saying this, indeed. The Czechs got a kick out of it.
I wonder if all felt the same way.
The day at Terezín
Two friends and I decided that one day we would go to Terezín, also known
as Theresienstadt and commonly known abroad as the "Czech concentration
camp." It was something that one needed to ponder before going, to
make sure that one could put up with the emotional rigors that it would force
upon a visitor. We arrived on an early bus from Prague at about ten in
the morning. The bus left us off near a nice little park. We really
did not know where we were at first, but made an effort to get towards the center
of town.
One of the first sounds I remember being bombarded with was the
clanging of two bells near each other at the same time. The two tones
were discordant and, to my companions and me, sounded like the beckoning of
death. As we walked around town, we could sense the terror and complete
sadness and loss of hope that was so much a part of this town sixty years
ago. The central parts of the town were almost completely empty of
people. We visited a couple of museums, which demonstrated thousands of
pictures, documents and artifacts linked with Terezín's infamous history. Terezín was split up into what are called
the large fortress and the small fortress. The large fortress was, during
the war, a Jewish ghetto. The people who lived there previously were
kicked out and the Jews were moved in. The small fortress was for
political prisoners as it had been years earlier. The majority of the
Jews that were in Terezín met their death in other concentration camps. Now,
people live in this town again. Most moved there because of low rent. The
sadness still lingers there.
My solitary afternoon
Prague is full of so many treasures. Many are in tourist guides, and
still many more are not. The treasures are in alleys behind streets where tourists
usually walk. Their stories are known only to natives and those who have
inquired and listened intently to natives speak of these places. Or they have
read widely on Czech history.
Even those that are listed in tour guides can lead to many different experiences when visited. On one of my last days in Prague, I thought I should visit some
places I had been meaning to get to for a while. I took Tram #22 from Narodni
Trida, near our dormitory and set out for the other side of the river, for
Pohorelec, Strahov and Brevnov. I walked around one of my favorite areas
of Prague, called Pohorelec or the "Burned Place" as it had
experienced a couple disastrous fires in its past. I was alone and able
to look around more readily and concentrate on the things I was seeing.
Even though it was December, I found quite a
few tourists in the more "popular" and advertised areas of Brevnov
and some in Strahov as well, both monasteries and museums. It was beginning to
get dark. I read that Brevnov monastery, my final destination for the day
was "closing" soon and that there were no tours today. I wanted
to go see it all the same, even if I could not get a tour. I walked from
the tram stops through the gate and saw St. Margaret's Church. I
walked in. No one was there except a
few monks preparing to say their afternoon prayers. I knelt down and
prayed while I listened to the beautiful chanting in this old, majestic and
beautiful church. Several minutes later, I walked up to the hill to where
the bishop and the king met in the 11th century upon their decision to build a
monastery on the spot. Some of the walls of the original building still
exist. Nevertheless, even this historic place had not been spared
graffiti writing. The skies were taking on a beautiful pink color as I
walked around alone contemplating my day and my entire time in Prague. Dusk was
falling. It was inexplicably beautiful.
As important as it was for me to experience events with others, I definitely
found it vital to spend some time alone to fit pieces together. Being
in a new place forces one to be bombarded by unfamiliar sights, sounds
and experiences. Often it takes years for such things to become
commonplace and be fit into an order for the mind and soul. It need
not take as long, but one prerequisite for appreciating an experience
such as study abroad is to revisit the ideas and sensations related to
it and to rethink them throughout one's life. It is fitting, however,
that things do not always fit into place as we may like. Even in
chaos there is some order. At least chaos can be considered a constant.
It is always present, in some places more evidently than others.
I enjoyed what seemed to be a chaotic place. I truly liked the idiosyncrasies
of Prague and Czechs. I reveled in the differences. I laughed
at the irony. And yet the similarities between life there
and what I had experienced previously were still comforting. It was also
a very special thing to be able to discuss my experience with others that
had similar encounters with Prague. It was great to hear their reactions
and thoughts that may have never crossed my mind. I do not doubt
that all of us had different experiences in Prague.
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