One Year Later

My one year anniversary of living in Prague is today.   Thought I'd celebrate by picking up where I left off on this blog a year ago.  I had intended to write all about my adventures but I got busy settling in.  Oh well.  Here I am again and who knows--this might be my last post for another year!  I just read my previous post and much has happened since then.  Unfortunately, the housing market back in Boston prevented us from selling the house (for what it's worth!).  Fortunately, we found tenants who signed a 2 year lease. 

We found a fabulous apartment, enrolled the boy in school and have established many friendships with people from all over the world.  We're loving it here and it suits us well.  D loves to walk to work--a luxury for him after years of commuter hell on 128.  I did get a car and have been learning how to get around.  The best way to describe a Czech driver is:  Imagine a Boston driver without any skill.  The use of directional indicators is optional when changing lanes and tailgating is a sport.  Yet, curiously no one honks their horn.

Over the past year I've had some pretty funny and some strange and maddening encounters with the locals.  I had a romantic expectation of the country and learning the language.  I fantasized fluent Czech pouring out of my mouth at cafes while talking about architecture and the downfall of Communism.  Instead, I've found the language incredibly difficult to wrap my head around.  Just being able to pronounce some words is tricky enough, let alone speaking and understanding it.  I'm settling for muddling my way with the 13 words I have in my arsenal:  check please, thank you, hello, have a nice day, goodbye, yes/no and please.  What I discovered about not understanding the language and not being able to speak to people is that  I like  it.  It's quiet.  I've subconsciously tuned out the foreign language so it's become a din in the background as the sound of traffic would be.  No longer am I audibly assaulted by conversations I don't want to hear.  Pure bliss.

I've become a brat (thus the title of the blog).  Some would argue that I was already one but I'm sure I'm a way  bigger one here.  I've found myself using vulgar language more than I ever have in the States because I can’t be understood (again, some would argue that I've always had a potty mouth).  I’ve shamelessly “enjoyed” difficult situations because I knew I could get away with a stream of foul language.  A good example of this was at the post office for the 3rd time attempting to pick up a package that had been shipped from the U.S. a month prior.  I had received a slip in the mail telling me to pick it up so I went and gave the slip to a woman behind the glass partition.  She passed it back and said “no”.  I said  “What do you mean, no?”  She said “no” again.  All I could say was “This is such a cluster f**k."  In the long line of people behind me I heard a giggle and a lovely young woman stepped out to ask me if I needed help.  Ano (yes).

At the grocery store a while back I was purchasing two items:  a bottle of wine and a plant. I realized as the female clerk was checking me through that the price on the bottle of wine came to about $3 US (even my standards aren't that low).  I had grabbed the wrong bottle off the shelf.  I told her to stop checking it through but it was too late.  I made the motions indicating that I didn’t want it and I got a bunch of huffs and one giant eye roll.  I looked at her and asked “What’s with the eye roll, lady?”  I ended up going back into the store, got the right wine and went back into her line and put it on her counter with a thud and smiled.  She didn’t smile.  This was the first day of our contentious relationship.  Some weeks later I was there buying a couple pieces of fruit.  In my pocket I had a small bill and a quite large one.  Czechs loath  large bills.  My opportunity to play with her presented itself and I seized it with glee.  With a wide smile, I gave her the large bill.  Her face was at first confused then finally anger.  She said “no”.  I smiled, “Yes, take it”.  She said “no”.  I grinned, “No, really.  Take it”.  She took it and grumbled to her co-worker the whole time.  I know, I’m a child.

The last one I'll share today is my phone conversation with the Medical clinic attempting to set up appointments for a mammogram and TMI alert:  a pap smear. Here's how the conversation went:

Nicole: "Hi, I'd like to schedule a pap smear"
Guy at clinic:  "A pup"?
"PAAAPPP SMMEEERRR"
"Is this for your foot?"
"No, a cervical exam to check for cancer."
"Oh, You need a prescription for that."
"Huh?  I need a doctor to look at my VAGINA.  I need a prescription for that?"
"Oh, sorry ma'am.  I will schedule you one."
"OK, good.  Now I need a mammogram."
"Is this for your back?"
"No, my BREASTS."
"You need a prescription from the gynecologist."
"Can I get one at the same time as my pap?"
"No.  You need a different appointment."

As my boy now says, "Yoy, Yoy, Yoy!"