Barrister by day, Bacardi by night

Help the Homeless

You could say that I'm homeless right now.  The fact that I'm staying in three-star hotels in downtown Chicago doesn't detract from my improverished circumstances presently.  Ever since departing from Prague last Thursday, I've lived out of luggage bags and the same four outfits.  Yes, I could use a washer-dryer combination.  I have no address - save a phone number and e-mail.  Soon I shall return to Dallas to visit my parents before flying to Atlanta where I will stay with my brother for a few days.  Note that I'm only "visiting" my parents because I have several unfinished matters to take care of back in Dallas.  I'm in Atlanta to visit a potential employer and from there, I return once more to Dallas before moving to DC, where I will crash at a friend's place for a day or two.  Hopefully by then, I will have found a place to live.

As of right now, I have no home.  I have less than two weeks before the fall semester begins and I have yet to find suitable accomodations and a job that may foot the bills.  Campaigning these past few days at the Law Student Division does not help much with my search.  I lost the elections but I'm no stranger to political upsets.  In any case, I'll continue writing more whenever I find another morsel of time.

My dearest friend

It is with great relief that I receive your electronic missive.  For a quite some time, I have grown increasing concerned as to your well-being and I am glad that my insecurities proved unfounded.

I am sorry to hear of the unpleasantries that face your colleagues as well as the unfortunate developments arising out of your relationships.  I, too, am in no better a predicament myself.  It with little delight that I reflect on my recent exchanges with Klára.  Not more than a fortnight past did I enjoy dinner with my new acquaintance.  In a series of mobile missives, I became encouraged with the prospect of sharing another evening or two with her.  At last, I soon realized my how grossly mistaken I was.  Having not heard after her return from Germany, I proposed that we renew our conversations over coffee.  An a hour had passed before I received a most disturbing, yet somewhat appreciated, mobile missive.  In no trite manner could I now be mislead.  To the best of my recollection, she conveyed to me in part, "I do not feel like going out with you again.  I am sorry."  I would be remissed for not admitting I was quite shaken with such candid honesty.  Yet, at the same time, I respect a lady for not impressing upon another a most infelicitous presumption.

Much has changed since I arrived at this beautiful city.  My initial endeavors proved ineffective and I have all but relinquished my salacious enterprises.  This is not to say I no longer observe the barroom upon my entry or that I introduce myself given the opportunity.  Indeed, I have experienced rather interesting conversations with several ladies from across Europe.  However, I have taken greater comfort in the companionship of my ex-patriot friends.  I find the incessant courtship ritual rather taxing, and regret that my repeated nightly leisures has ultimately taken toll to my health.  But perhaps I express a much graver image than truth be told.  I suffer no more than the common cold but to an unsatisfactory extent where I must take leave from the office.  My employer has shown significant generosity in allowing me time so that I may recover with all due haste.

I must now divert your attention to introduce a most notable figure amongst the ex-patriot community.  No doubt, should one reference his name among the more learned circles, one could not escape some anecdote or remark.  It is Mr Jonathon Jarvis I speak of.  Mr Jarvis is a man of his late twenties and of a family of considerable wealth.  However, he is much too humble to be related to such a prosperous heritage.  My first impression was that of a deranged, unshaven louse
reeking of alcohol and shirt half-tucked.  Or perhaps, his casual nature is the result of his frequent indulgences with certain chemicals that I will not speak more of.  In any event, Mr Jarvis is well known for his eccentric behavior and omnipresence throughout Prague.  It would be rare feat not to encounter him on any given night at such establishments such as Bombay Cafe, Marquis de Sade, Chateau, or Nebe.

Excuse me, I must take my leave at this very moment because two visibly inebriated ladies of Czech descent have requested my presence with them at Bombay.

Pardon that rude interruption, I believe a dance or two was sufficient to indulge their odd request.  I felt it rather awkward because I was promptly introduced to their boyfriends, who seem to possess no interest of the dance floor.  Fortunately, no drinks need be ordered and I return without any deficiencies upon my person.  I now return to my outdoor parlour along Dlouhá třída where I may find a suitable Wi-Fi spot.  Let me briefly describe my present settings.  It is a quarter til 2 in the morning and a distinct pungent odor is emitting from the neighbor beside me.  He was not present when I first arrived and I wish he awaken himself and find more appropriate accommodations.  Various club patrons traverse through this part of town as it adjoins two nearby metro stations.

I seem to have diverged from my original agenda.  As the night becomes increasing morning, I believe it best that I retire within the hour.  I shall continue to extend my observations in further forthcoming missives as I am glad to hear such accounts afford you some amusement.

Warmest regards,

Your friend in Prague,

Shakespeare on the tram

My good friend Pete, a British bloke who's interning at another law firm in Prague, got me hooked on this indirectly.  We first ran into each other while waiting for the night tram and since then I've joined him among a group of regulars at the Marquis de Sade (near Náměstí Republicy).  One night, after a few half-liters, ol' Pete starts going off on Shakespeare to small group of American tourists.  I found it funny but thought nothing of it.  Then another friend of mine, who's also good chums with Pete, pulled out a copy of Hamlet while we were waiting for the metro.  He got a copy from Pete and said it helped speed the transit along.  So, I figured why not.  Most people know only the first line, let alone the first stanza.  Why not whip out Hamlet to impress the ladies?  At the very least, they'll give you an odd look.  That's how I got Sara's number.

Hamlet Act III Scene 1

To be or not to be, that is the question;
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
or to take arms against a sea of troubles;
And by opposing end them; To die; To sleep;
No more; And by asleep to say we end
the heartache and thousand natural shocks
that flesh is heir to; 'tis a consummation
devoutly to be wished; To die; To sleep;
To sleep; Perchance to dream; 'aye, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
when we have shuffled off this mortal coil;
Must give us pause; There's the respect
that makes calamity so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorn of time;
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
the pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
the insolence of office and the spurns
that patient merit of the unworthy takes;
When he himself might his quietus make
with a bare bodekin; For who would fardels bear
to grunt and sweat under the weary lives;
But that the dread of something after death,
that undiscovered country from whose bourn
no traveler returns, puzzles the will
and makes us rather bear those ills we have,
than fly to others that we know not of;
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
and thus the native hue of resolution
is sicklier o'er the pale cast of thought,
and enterprises of great pith and moment
with this regard the current turns awry,
and lose the name of action - Soft you know!
The fair Ophelia - Nymph, in thy orisons;
Be all my sins remember'd.

Memorization time: 5 days.  Difficulty: Moderate.

Learning česká (Czech)

A word a day, a new phrase each conversation.  That's how I motto on how to make it back home in one piece.  It is quite possible to live a lifetime in Prague without ever having to learn the local language, but what's the glamour in staying an American (one who speaks only English)?  I've managed the basics around town.  "Privo prosím," (beer please) I'll tell the barkeep.  Or "jedno kučiči oči, prosím," (one chocolate log cake please) I'll order at confectionery shop.  Everywhere I go, I ask the bartender, the waiter, or the cashier to help me with pronounciation.  In the meantime, I'm exchanging Czech lessons with English conversations with a Czech girl.  I've also found www.expats.cz to be a tremdenous help in ensuring a pleasant stay. 

The Czech pronunciation itself is rather simple once you learn the the phoentic sounds.  What you see is what you read.  Learning the grammar is a entirely different beast.  Czech is a Slavic language that dates back to the 11th century.  It belongs to the "synthetic" language group (much like Spanish and other Romance languages), which means that unlike English and other "analytical" languages, different grammatical aspects are expressed in one word by changing the structure of that word - adding an ending or prefix, modifying the core of the word, etc. In analytical languages such as English, the same is achieved by using separate auxiliary verbs, pronouns or adjectives while the actual word remains unchanged. In Czech, one word is often sufficient to express what English can only achieve by using multiple words.  For instance, "dům" for house as opposed to "domeček" for little house.

Source: http://www.locallingo.com/.

Living la vida loca

The worst possible thing is to get "mugged" by the banks.  I found the most horrible exchange rate at a Western Union station offering to buy $1 USD at $19.3 Kc, as compared to $24.6 Kc.  I lost $120 USD just in one exchange.  This troubled me for many days and I still lose a lot of sleepless nights over this mistake.  I was lured by the "no commission" sign, which I knew mean that they would offer a lower exchange rate, but 20% is quite the commission.  Yes, I got ripped off.

Fortunately, I can manage to keep myself financially stable because of the incredibly low prices around town.  If I refrain from hitting the bars, I manage to live off $300 Kc/day.  That's around $12 USD.  However, I down nearly 2 liters of pivo a day ... so make that around $400 Kc/day.  I try to keep everything to a minimum by going to the local supermarket (e.g. Tesco).  1.5L of bottled water costs $2 Kc as opposed to .5L bottle of water at $25 Kc.  I won't bother doing the math.  The extremely cheap wine (vino) is $10 Kc ... but Kamila, my roommate, says only the homeless drink that.  Apparently, it leaves you with an absolutely horrible hangover.  Oh well, I might as well drink it since I've already bought it.

When in Rome ... look for the Chinese.  It seems that no matter where you go, you can always expect the Chinese to open a Chinese restaurant.  It's quite prevalent around town.  Its like seeing a Starbucks around every corner.  So whenever I need help, I just drop by the nearest Chinese (činska) joint and ask for directions.  Thank goodness I can at least speak Mandarin because I get lost often.

Speaking of getting lost.  I end up walking nearly 3 to 5 hours a day - usually between bars or whenever I get bored.  I walk up and down 6 flights of stairs 6 times daily.  When my blisters heal, I'll get back to my morning runs around the two parks directly north and south of my neighborhood.  So I think I'll be fine Alicia.

Právník v Praha

In short ... I'm a little overwhelmed already.  First of all, the keyboard is different here - the letter "y" is where the letter "z" is, and vice versa.  Second, I'm getting acclaimated to the nightlife scene and language.  There's so much going on at night because it's hard to stay in one place.  I haven't visited any museums at night but I hear they're quite exotic.  Instead, I've had the good fortune of running into other Americans, which makes the evenings a little more hospitable.  My first evening was spent wandering around dark alleys throughout Staré Méstro, near Old Town Square.  If you know where to find it, the food here is CHEAP.  We're talking 119 Kc (about $4.50) for a full 3-course meal - soup, entree, and dessert.  Half a liter of Privo or Beer for 30 Kc ($1.25) and cheaper if you go elsewhere.  In the past few days, I've downed more alcohol than water.  It's simply cheaper.  Tourists get suckered ... and I have to save my money for the essentials.  More Plisner Uruquell.