updated travel plans

Here is our updated travel calander, things have changed a bit, so make sure you take a look :)

Struggles.

Our departure date is inching closer. Jamie and I have only two weeks left in Policka before we make the cross-ocean trip back to the United States. I must admit that I have never felt so much ambiguity in my life. It seems that all my thoughts about home, about passion, about God, about marriage and about myself have all been shaken from under me. I fluctuate between certainty and confusion nearly every waking moment of the day. I do believe that this is a consequence of living the past year in a completely foreign place from the one in which I grew up. On top of that, the differences between my world back in the United States and the one that I have built up around me in the Czech Republic, are only exacerbated by the fact that I live in Policka, a town of 10,000 people surrounded by farms: it isn't exactly the place of fast-paced life, trendy boutiques or world-class cultural entertainment (even though Policka does have a surprising amount of options in the 'civic/cultural department.')

For the past year I have been fighting with who I am, really. Here in Policka, I am an American. In America, I am a Pennsylvania. In Pennsylvania, I am a Pittsburgher. In Pittsburgh, I am from Ambridge. In Ambridge, I am from Economy. I have pondered this idea of categorizing myself, and I've come to the realization that I do so, because I want those who are being introduced to me to understand that I am not just Jeremy Ault from place ' X .' No, I give a region or a place, because I am hoping to place myself within a story that is greater than just me. When I tell Czechs that I am American, I am not just giving them a piece of knowledge or a 'fact'; I am hoping that they also take from this bit of information what I am really telling them. I am placing myself in the story of America as a nation and as a people. I am coming from the perspective of someone whose eyes are adjusted to the gaze of Washington, of Lincoln, of Jefferson and of Kennedy; whose heart and soul were built by the calloused hands of immigrant laborers at the tipple of a coal mine, on the sweat-soaked, scared backs of the slaves in the Mississippi Delta; by the pious aspirations of a group of religious-puritans on a lonely outpost on a rocky, New England coast; my thoughts are formulated within the context of looking East and seeing the Atlantic, of peering West and knowing that the Pacific is out there somewhere. My world is one where to the North it is cold, to the south it is humid, and in the middle, things are flat. It is the phenomenon that out of all places in this world, I was born in a small part of the Appalachian foothills, in a city traversed by both hill and river, ravaged by both industry and crime. Why was I placed there? Why is my history tied up in such a small section of the world?

Many times throughout my travels in Europe I have heard the conversations of Young people much like myself. Most of the time, they are sharing a wonderfully, intrigued story about a past adventure in a foreign land that none of us had ever been too ( a form of 'one-upmanship' I guess). It usually ends with some climatic sense of revelation about who they are and why traveling makes them such an enlightened, better person (which I still think it does). Yet, in an ironic twist, the more I am away from home, the more I realize the necessity of both a 'common ground' and the experiences from the other side. Maybe this is something that I have never really hoped for in my life, because, lets face it, never leaving your home town is not nearly as glamorous as living in an exotic local with mountains, jungles and a wickedly-foreign language.

Recently, I have been reading a wonderful collection of essays by the American Farmer/poet/theologian/historian/whatever you want him to be, he is, Wendell Berry. In his book titled The Art of the Commonplace, Berry gives his paradigm for why he lives the way he does. To make a long story short, Berry, a man gifted with incredible talent in virtually everything he does, lives not in the most powerful of places, but on a farm in Kentucky. He has chosen to reside back in the place where his family has been for generations and where he got hist start as a young child. As I read through his essays, I can sense the love and the passion that pour out from his writing about the old-timey neighbors down the street, the nature that abounds in his backyard and the local history of the region; he knows the woods and the springs of North-central Kentucky as intimately as he knows himself. IN fact, it is only through his knowledge of the land from which he came, that he can truly know who he himself IS. This is all wonderful and great, but Berry is challenging me at a very inopportune time: I am still loving living in Policka , not at 'home', and living among people who take my world and warp it almost every day.

Is it bad to say that living 'away' is great!?

But, yet, living 'away,' can't it be lonely? And, at times, doesn't it feel 'fake?'

Yes....

This is what I do all day. My mind goes back and forth like the rocking of a ship. I can't put a finger on any of my opinions, because they are like sand slipping through my fingers. I know that I have changed, but how much? I know that I am looking forward to going home, but I am so nervous about how I will react and what cultural aspects that I will need to adjust to when I am with my family.

I want to be a part of a larger story, but which one!? Where do I feel at home? Why am I here? why? Why? WHY?!

I would like to reflect on the darker side of being a part of this 'story.' Sometimes, when I tell someone that I am American, the story that they get is a far cry from the one that I WANT to be a part of. It doesn't mean that theres' is any less false, but it isn't exactly the idealized version that I had in my head. As is the story about today:

Jamie and I had a visit in the Mayor's office this morning. He was really excited to meet us and told us that we were the first Americans he had ever had in his office. He had never been to America, so he was full of questions about our country, culture and opinions --side note: He spoke only in Czech and it was very fast, which made me a little bit nervous; there are times when I get myself into a situation where I know that I am going to figuratively drown in the language, and this was one of them.-- I knew that we were in for a different kind of meeting when the first question the mayor asked me was about my opinions on the economic crisis and its relationship to China. Needless to say, I was a tad bit stunned. Moving on_ I don't want to get bogged down in mundane details_ the mayor would listen to me speak and then would give some of his opinions on the situation. We talked about many things and most of the time he was very sympathetic and a reasonably agreeable person. However, what struck me the most, were the hints of disappointment in his voice when he would speak about the United States.

He assured us that he really loved what the country stood for, but he couldn't understand how some Americans would allow themselves to live such lives of luxury to the detriment of themselves (pointing to obesity) and to others (economic crisis, poverty in other countries). Now, I have heard this complaint so many times since I have been in the Czech Republic that I normally get in my defensive mode, because often times, when people utter these statements, it is coming from a pretty clear notion of aggression. However, he was different; he seemed genuine in his struggle to reconcile the idealized view of American 'freedom'_ a view I'm sure he acquired under 40 years of communism_ with the stark reality of selfish American consumerism. Things got a little bit more intriguing for me when we started talking about religion. The mayor, who is most likely atheist like most Czechs, admitted that he admired Americans for their belief and their dedication to a faith, but couldn't understand how these "pious" Americans could live a life of over-spending (get the economic bend to his thinking?). He went so far as to ponder, out loud, "isn't it immoral!?"

Could you believe it!? An atheist having an opinion about the morality of American Christians!?
I left the meeting feeling a little refreshed. Surprising, isn't it? I didn't want to throw his opinions out the window as just another uneducated thought about American people, because I knew that that wasn't the truth. Instead, I took them to heart and believe that part of me living here might be so that I am able to critically look at MY culture, MY people and MY story and ask those same questions.

Maybe one of the reasons why my thoughts seem so conflicting and confused, is because they are always going against each other: I am yearning for the 'story' and the 'commonplace' that Berry refers to, but I am also getting a good sound lesson from the Czechs about why that 'commonplace' shouldn't be idealized. Maybe coming to grips with this knowledge is a first step in really appreciating home, friends and family. It just sucks that it has to be so damn hard.

Our first year is coming to a close

As our first year comes to an end, and our departure date comes closer, I feel that Jeremy and I have a desire to go home and visit family and friends, but also one to come back to Policka and see what will be in store for our next year. So much has happened in the last few weeks, with English classes ending, preparing for the confirmation retreat, and working on the camp, that it is almost shocking that there are only 15 days before we leave.

Our final week of class was fantastic. We were able to have fun with our students; having small parties and playing games. They told us they are happy that we will have another year with them, and that they enjoyed the classes. This was encouraging, because throughout the year we didn't get much feedback about our classes. My 4th and 5th grade class brought me flowers and wanted me to know that they are looking forward to the English camp and also my class next year. Jeremy took his adult classes out to a pub for a relaxing evening and time to chat and his high schoolers went to the bowling ally.

The Saturday after our last class the church participated in "Čas pro neobyčejné zažitky", which was more of less an "open town" type event. People could go to 10 or 12 different places in Policka, including the museum, school, library and art studios and have a special program. Our program consisted of a puppet show by two of the younger kids, a slide show video of the things that happened in the church the last year, games (pastor bowling and paper airplane game) and a craft.

The night was a complete success and everyone who came left with a smile. The two boys preformed their puppet show 12 times and were a favorite for almost everyone. The games upstairs where also rather popular, even though they were rather dumb at first glance. The pastor bowling was amusing and also a way for the community to see that the church can poke fun at themselves and enjoyed a good laugh. I think people got a kick our of Jeremy when he would tell them to roll the ball faster so they would knock more pastors down because he would say "Faří jsou durstní!" or pastors are tough! The paper airplane games was by far the most popular, and it was the most simple of all! You made your own plane and you wanted to fly it from the Czech Republic to different countries by landing it in designated areas. The further away the country was from the Czech Republic the more of a challenge it was. And if you were successful you got to sign your name under the country you flew to. There were families that played this game for an hour!

It was really a great night to end our English classes and community programs with.

A few weeks ago Jeremy and I were reflecting on our first year, and there have been so many things that have happened. People have invited us into their homes and lives and it seemed like memories and funny stories were pouring out of our brains, so much that I decided I would try to capture our first year in a painting. So much has changed since we first came to Policka, with our language improving and learning about the culture, and I hope that next year our relationships will grow stronger and our adventures will continue.

Travel Plans

For anyone who is interested, these are our current travel plans for our trip home (June 26th-July 19th). Nothing is set, because something might come up. If we plan on coming to see you and you wont be around the day it says we will be coming, because let Jeremy or I know. We want to be able to see as many people as possible :)

In preparation for a time to come and a reflection on time that has passed

Each day we inch closer to the date whereupon Jamie and me fly away from Prague and land in Pennsylvania. I remember, all the way back in July, that when we landed I was looking out the window and staring at the cracked 'tarmak' and the little blue lights that line the edge of the runway. I thought to myself, " Man, I don't want to fly anymore, my ears are killing me." Then in the next instance my mind retorted, "Don't worry about that. You have one year, one whole year."



Some times I remember my experiences from this past year as one big blur, literally. I imagine that if I had a slide-show of pictures and each one presented itself in succession back dropped with some epic, crescendo-building music, everything from language learning, to travelling, from relationships to loneliness, from frustration to unabashed joy, from snow showers to sunshine, would seem much more powerful. Today, it is not the case: I sit in the office and plan classes; I think about my run this morning and how happy I am that the sun is out; I wonder if I remembered to shut the windows in our apartment; I dread the fact that I have another 8 hours in the church building; I am slightly irritable because there is a slight pain in my temple; I am worn out from a monotonous routine, and I am left, in the moment, concentrating only on my nearest comfort, not reflecting, not appreciating, how much I have changed since July 17th 2008.



I know that my last post was very reflective and I feel that this one is going down the exact same path; I guess it is fitting that I am just starting to digest this past year in slow spurts, so please bear with another rambling, long-paragraphed, nostalgic post.



Recently, I have found myself in the company of Czech friends. Most of the time we are at a pub where we can talk for hours on end, which affords me an opportunity to practice my Czech, to remember and to ask questions about culture and, sometimes, frustrations.



I was speaking with my friend Jarda when he suddenly asked me if I realize that my first year is close to completion. I answered that yes I have realized, but with all the work that is left to accomplish, it seems that there is a barrier between when we actually fly away from Prague and the continuous work of everyday living. He then took the liberty to ask me about my home.



"Jeremy, is Policka your home?" "Would you stay in Policka after your second year?"



"Jarda, Policka and the Czech Republic are special to me. They have become my home for the time being, but the they are not my emotional home. Culturally,Czechs are different and many days I find myself fighting against it. I know now that this is absolutely futile and I have learned to accept and have come to appreciate some of our differences as a people. For example, when in line for a bus, I have come to realize that Czechs will push past me, as if there were only one seat left. I have grown to anticipate the fact that Czechs shy away from confrontation, so if there is an issue that needs to be discussed or brought to the fore-front, I will have to initiate the conversation. I know that when discussing family, I should just assume that all families live in the same town that they were born: grandma, great grandpa, mom, dad and baby. I have been frustrated by the expression of Czech pride, which is usually predicated by putting-down another culture (usually American) to make a point about the clarity, purity and beauty of Bohemian people. I have grown accustomed to people urinating, EVERYWHERE. I don't like the lack of food diversity here; I can only eat so many rohliku and svickova. I miss the countryside of Pennsylvania where there are bountiful, leaf-filled trees that change color and bud with the changing the season. I often find that Czechs can be quite closed-minded and justify this mentality by blaming it on history and position in the world. I am worried that Czechs don't think seriously enough about their own troubling problems with racism, as this country moves into the globalized world; you can't just blame it on the Roma...or the Vietnamese; we Americans know this.



Jarda, do not take this the wrong way. The beauty of this post is that I am able to reflect on the Czech people and realize that not all of it necessarily TRUE. The fact that I can be frustrated with you and still love being here and all that the country offers me, is a testament to the reality that the Czechs have become REAL to me: you are not just waiters in pubs during my vacation; you aren't just poor farmers on the other side of the world; you aren't the perfect caricatures that I read in travel magazines. No, you have become my neighbors, my friends, my family and, sometimes, my eyes.

a time for celebration

Today was the annual celebration (majales) for the schools in Policka. It is started off with a parade with all the classes from the top high school (in Czech "gymnasium"). Each class dresses up as something different in the hope of being awarded the prize for best costume. This year consisted of: old men and woman (the girls where the men and the boys where the women), monks, toilets, hippies, things from Egypt (including pyramids), Mexican swine flu, and Arctic explores with penguins. It was a lot of fun for me, since I know a quite a few of the students from our English classes (and most of them waved to me!). After the parade there are performances in the center of town and games for the younger students in the park.

Before the start of the parade I started thinking about when I was graduating from high school, and honestly it seems like a really long time ago (you know... since I'm now so much older and grown up...) but really it has only been 6 years. Anyway, I remember looking forward to our graduation. All 212 graduates, wearing red and white caps and gowns, filled the gym of Edinboro University, and we each got our diploma and were off to bigger and better things: universities, trade schools, the military and the work force. It was an exciting time, and it is what every high school student looks forward too.

Here it is still a time of excitement and anticipation, however the traditions that surround graduation are different. The hints of graduation start early in the year. Each student who is graduating had a special ribbon, from their school, that they have pinned to their backpack. The ribbons are all different, so you can tell who is from what school by the different colores. Then in January is a graduation ball for each school. This is a time for students to celebrate their upcoming graduation with their classmates, teachers, family and friends. The night it spent dancing and having a good time. The last major event before the big day happens in early May. Each graduating class has some sort of senior portrait taken and they are put up in a store window in town for everyone to see. Some are more traditional and others are creative and goofy. After this the only thing left for seniors is to take their exit exams. Each student chooses which subjects they will graduate in and then has the week before off to study for their tests. After all the exams are taken the students have one final celebration with there classmates and teachers.

Reflections

It has been quite a while since my last post. I have been really overwhelmed with anticipation; I am looking forward towards our trip to the U.S., I am nervous/encompassed by the English Camp in July, and I find myself daydreaming about our second year in Policka: Will things be easier? How will our Czech improve? Where will your relationships go?
Maybe I am focusing too much on whats to come, instead of leaning back in my chair and working/reflecting on the day at hand. I know that if I let my mind wander to the realm of "what will be", I might completely miss the kernels of insight that are right under my fingers, nose, feet...

I wish it was that easy just to focus, but it really is hard. Unlike previous years, this year's English-camp programming rests on the shoulders of Jamie and I. We are confident that we will be able to live up to the standards of the past, but we know that things will be different. What is more stressful is not coming up with ideas, but finding time. We are still in the midst of our classes, which means that our number one priority when headin' into the Church each morning, is planning and coming up with engaging lesson plans-- this might seem like an easy enough job, but after you have already planned over 50 of them, it gets a bit monotonous. On top of thinking creatively about the week-in and week-out work, we have to set aside time to brainstorm about camp activities. I don't want to sound like I am complaining, but this Spring is starting to feel like the final "kick" during a cross-country race: we are tired and have come so far, but we gotta' find the energy to get the legs moving faster than ever before. Then, when you add planning for our trip to the United States (no easy task), reapplying for our visa, closing out our classes, planning for Germans visiting and having a last retreat with the confirmation class, June becomes a little 'front-loaded.'

-- My daydream right now--

The night before heading back to Pittsburgh, I'm sure that Jamie and I will stay in our favorite hostel in Prague, Sir Toby's, where the basement is a fantastic pub that has all the charm and authenticity that you expect from a backpacker hangout. And as I buy my last Czech draft and sit in one of the over-worn armchairs, I will rest my head back, taste the bitter coolness of the beer on my tongue and for the first time in a long time, reflect on life, on the Czech Republic and anticipate the reunion with family, friends, familiar scenery and the things I deeply love. I look forward to this moment.

-- not yet jeremy, not yet--

I don't want to give the impression that I don't like being in the Czech Republic, because that is actually quite far from the truth. I really enjoy the experience, the peacefulness and the freedom that comes from living in a small town in the countryside. Each day I do not have to worry about crime, about going out at night, traffic, chaos, health insurance or bills ( we have some, yes). Each weekend Jamie and I are free to roam on the hiking trails that traverse the hills in all directions from Policka. One of the most beautiful, refreshing facts about my life here is that I haven't driven a car for almost a year; I walk, I ride my bike, I hike and I take life at a slower, more authentic pace. When it was cold in the winter, I felt the bit of the wind on my face and the snow brushing my eye-lashes. When it rains, I walk slowly and surely through the puddles and feel each drop clang against my head. In the spring time, I find myself noticing the the buttery-sweet fragrance of blooming trees and flowers. I even get to smell the freshly-manured fields when the wind is blowing just right-- this 'smrad' (czech for stench) reminds me, weekly, that I really am a city-slicker from upbringing, as I still "gufawh" every time I catch a hint. I find it really refreshing that I can see friends and students in the town square during the working day. I can buy rolls and bread from the local bakery, stop by the fruit/vegetable stand to pick up some fresh carrots and peruse through the book store to see what's new. I often get invitations to head to one of the local pubs, where I finally feel confident speaking Czech and know that I'm not completely looked at as an outsider (maybe a little, but it's better than in August!): I know exactly what beer is the best -- Policka Kvasnicove (un-pasteurized, yeast beer)-- and what table I prefer. I have grown accustomed to the weather in Policka, as I am used to its fickle manner: I know that in the morning, just because there is a clear sky and sun, doesn't mean that by afternoon there won't be any rain; I know that the forecast on the nightly news is usually a day in advance for us, so if it calls for rain on Monday, I can expect it Tuesday. I have grown accustomed to seeing elderly people gardening and walking around in their fields. I used to be shocked by this, because my mind was accustomed to seeing the aged relegated to wheelchairs, automatic lifters and 'rascal' scooters, but now I find it normal that a man aged 85 can still wield a hoe and dig a trench without taking a break every 2 minutes. I have adjusted to life without a dryer, which seems kind of silly, but when you have to plan laundry around its drying length, things are littler more complicated than just cleaning the lint trap, shutting the door and hitting the button. I've even managed to eat with both of my hands. Here in the Czech Republic, it is proper etiquette to eat with both elbows on the table and with utensils in your hands at all times: fork in the left, knife in the right. This has come about because the Czech meals, which are saucy and meaty by nature, require you to use both utensils for effective 'shoveling' as I like to call it. For an American who has been chastised his whole life for being a "pig" if both of his elbows were positioned in attack mode around his dinner plate, this change in dining habit is very difficult to get a handle on: many times, especially early on, I was fighting the thought of looking like a ravenous animal as I tore away at my plate with both hands surrounding it (American mind). Not to mention, it is actually really difficult for me to eat with my left hand, as I really don't use it very much, aside from playing baseball. I've also grown accustomed to using Czech phrases and words in my every day speech. I would say that sometimes I mix the languages completely, where I create some kind of CZENGLISH hybrid of a language: the word for hedge hog in Czech is 'jezek', which I use in sentences such as, "Jamie, I can't wait until the Jezeks come out." Or, when someone asks me a question, I have a habit of saying "ano, or nevim" instead of "yes, or I don't know." So, if you see me doing this, please laugh and 'roll with it.' In another way, I do believe that my personality has begun to change a little bit since my move here, but it is really hard for me to get a handle on what EXACTLY has changed, which might be a consequence of the fact that the process is still happening as I am writing this.

I am sorry that this post is one GIGANTIC paragraph (Faulkner anyone?). I really could write a whole lot more, but I might have to save that post for my last day before heading home. I guess in a way, this post ended as a warning to my family and friends: I might be a changed person when I come back, but please be patient with me and ask me questions, because it is through your observations that I can really begin to digest and understand my time spent here.

I hope you enjoyed some of the thoughts!