Outside my window is the stuff of any train station across the country, around the world, except one exception: the woman holding her child so she can pee in the street. I’m not saying that doesn’t happen at home, in other places, but here’s the difference from what I can see: there’s a sullen fuck-you about the action, something that transcends the nonchalance you might see elsewhere. I’ve seen that in the eyes of the Czechs too. It’s a certain burning brazenness that exists underneath the casual disdain for everything within sight. I understand it with the sliver of comprehension I have at this point in my life, the little I can relate to a formerly Communist country.
Me? I was born and raised in a firmly Democratic, capitalist society. We don’t worry about coups; we don’t fear getting rolled by tanks. We say what we think and do as we do. That’s why we stand out so much around the world, especially in a place like the Czech Republic. People here walk fast and talk low; it is as if a veil has dropped and is taking its time to rise.
The exception? My students.
