Dresden, or Dulock? A Photographic Deluge

Dulock to the extreme

View from the Liebskind Void

I spy one yarmulke...

We nommed so hard... 

Ooooo.... Ahhhh

Booty booty booty booty rockin everywhere

Mitzi and I on a romantic date, during the walking tour

So absorbed by the tour. Or candy crush?

Who's that Spartan in my teepee? It's me, it's me!

King of the castle, king of the castle

Sometimes I take amazing pictures....

Dresden synagogue, inspired by the tabernacle

A gift from the Ibis Hotel,
after I got trapped in the elevator

Cuties under a fake ancient ceramic mural

IBM WWII machine? Tech consulting gets dangerous. (Military History Museum of Germany)

Happy yom taxidermy, Kochavim!

Berlin in Pictures - Imagery for thousands of words

So so so angry

Wafaa Khattab talks about Turks in Kreuzberg.
You can now put a face to the name.

The German Beliebers. Just kidding - the exhibition
is about Jews in Germany, opened during Jewish Culture Week

GCU suited up and serious for the German Foreign Ministry meeting

10583 on top of the German Parliament

GCU on German version of Capitol Hill

Last supper, with the wine flowing and the best piece of perch!

Platzin around

A bombed out back of the Orianenburger Synagogue,
originally the entrance to a 3500 person sanctuary

Streetside selfies with my future ride

10583 at Brandenburg Gate

Panoramic Berlin from the Memorial to Jews Murdered in the Holocaust

Let the sunshine in...

Our main drag, Orianenburgerstrasse

The Old-Fashioned Boogie 

Then, we went to this spot.

The original fabric. Hard to look at.

A stroll on the Spree

GCU wonders at the megamosque

I make many friends abroad.

Parking Myself in the Parks of Prague

In the morning, I slept in and didn’t notice Avi or our other apartment-sharers leave. In fact, I never even met the people who had been brushing their teeth in the same sink for the past few days. I planned a perfect day: a stop at PAUL, my favorite French chain café for a 10 cK mini pan au chocolate, a tram ride up to the castle, and a walk in the Royal Gardens where I could sit and write my blog. I gave some Australian ladies directions and then our tram got into a crash! Ah! It wasn’t so dramatic, but I just really need to only walk everywhere. From elevator stops to tram crashes, I have terrible electric transport luck.

When I got to the castle, I gave a nice Chinese mom and daughter directions to the ticket booth. The daughter worked at Northern Trust in Chicago, so we had a nice chat about our second home. In the royal gardens, I found a summer palace balcony to sit on, overlooking the castle and moat and all of Prague. I perched up and started to blog there. Then, I saw the older couple from my Jewish Quarter tour and asked them to take a picture. It wasn’t that good because you can’t see the scenery in it. Then, I asked a random lady to take a picture of me at my writing spot. I wanted you all to see that I don’t waste my time writing in a closed room and that I keep things fresh and interesting. Good thing I got both pics before a royally-dressed guard told me in Czech that I had to get off the balcony. I just kind of inferred what he was saying. I speak no Czech and probably never will.

Just now, a lady on my bench (writing locale number 2) asked me something in a Slavic tongue and I had to say, “Sorry, only English” but I was grateful because I just want to be alone and quiet, only sitting and enjoying this most beautiful afternoon in the park.

I continued on to the Wallenstein Palace, after determining that's where the mysterious quadrant and grotto was, the one I had seen from up above in the castle. I trammed down to Malo strana and entered the Versailles-like gardens. Tall hedges and romanesque fountains punctuated the paths leading to the Senate building, a converted expansive family home. In just five halls open to the public, anyone can tell you the Czech Senate knows how to party in style. Crazy wall murals, gilded frames, ebony and ivory shelving - this place has everything. A lady and I took nice pictures of each other - these small interactions with other lone travelers validate the peacefulness of being on your own. I continued out and through to the mock grotto, where stucco plugs up a huge wall, and a few enormously fat owls laze around. The guy who owned the place had some weird interests, but his villa complex is one of the most manageable cribs to explore and delight in.

I looked like a shlub, in a t-shirt and gym shorts, and I was starving, so I went back to the apartment to get something to eat. I met my new roommates, two Australian girls who may or may not be dating. That evening, they played the tambourine to Top 40 hits for about an hour. It was baffling. I really like them, though - they are really friendly and it's good to know total creepos aren't sleeping a few feet away from you.

I spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the lower palace neighborhood, at the famous but difficult to find John Lennon Wall, a nearby park and market place, and then a slow walk across the Charles Bridge and back home, not without stopping in yesterday's fabulous fudge shop. My final pre-home purchase was a round of camembert, a small baguette and some juice, to make for a lovely snack and breakfast. Foreign grocery stores are always exciting - this one, in an enormous cosmopolitan mall called the Palladium, had an entire aisle for just beer and chocolate!

Once I got home, I didn't go out again. I think I just have a lot of thinking I need to do before I move to Israel for a month - TOMORROW. I plan to spend the next 24 hours in Prague’s many parks and cafes, and to speak little and think much.

Shabbat Shalomediocrity

At 6:30 pm, I knew 7 o’clock services at the Spanish Synagogue weren’t going to happen for me. So, around 7:45, Avi and I walked over to the Jewish Quarter where he went to the Old New Synagogue which has housed prayer since 1280. I barely contemplated going through security and going in before I saw a streimel and just decided it was too much for an exhausted, irritable me to handle. 

I ended up at the nightclub-style Chabad where I ran into my Canadian acquaintance from the morning tour. She was cute as can be and provided an excellent companion for the city. The women’s side of the mechitzah offered one smile for every two glares or blank stares. I was one of maybe 3 out of 30 women saying the words out loud, and I couldn’t see anything from the back of the room mechitzah. Still, the atmosphere was more positive than the 1280 synagogue would’ve been and I wasn’t searched and interviewed on my way in, which is often the modern process for getting into a synagogue during services in Europe. I looked at the sheytl (wig) fashions in the room and decided a long wavy one was the prettiest, but not so deceiving. There was a gorgeous blonde curly haired woman who mouthed the words of her prayers in an exquisite way and I think she is one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen. The men's side had a wild mix of Israelis in jeans and young guys with fluffy beards and black hats. I wanted to stick around and get to know the mixed crowd.

After Chabad, I headed over to Dinitz for dinner. This kosher restaurant basically hosts out-of-towners for Shabbat meals, providing Israeli salads, an appetizer, main course, fruit salad – I was underwhelmed. Apparently, most weeks there are 50 people and everyone sings and chats and it’s so fun. Avi and I sat with a nice Israeli couple but at the end of the day, I don’t have a lot in common with a mom and dad from a moshav near Ashdod. So, it was kind of awkward to be on a double date with them but we all made the best of it. When the room was full, no one knew how to initiate Kiddush and Motzi, the prayers that lead to eating, so I used my finest Hillel skills and peer-pressured Avi into leading the wine blessing for the whole room. I made an announcement in English on how things would go, and made moves. But, no one was friendly or appreciative or enthusiastic – it was a mixed crowd of Israelis and older people and me. Ada and Alan from New Jersey who have kids in their 30s sat next to us at a table over, and we ended up talking with them late into the night. They were really interested in Avi’s professional work at the Israel Action Network, and by 10:00 p.m., I was just kind of over the whole day and couldn’t build up the positive, charming character I usually have. I felt like an embittered introvert, and I probably wasn’t the world’s greatest company through 11 p.m., but I did my best given my incorrigible state, complete with upset stomach and lack of content with the dinner.

So, I got home, Facetimed with my parents who were buying towels in Boston for Becca, who is starting college this week!  And then I passed out. Highs and lows, it was an interesting day and the afternoon was fabulous. I wish I could’ve just stayed in the castle and played princess forever.

Three Wildcat Princesses in Prague

I met the NU girls across the river at Café Brule, an amazing French spot with English menus and pricey for Prague prices. A family friend of Pam’s, who happens to head up Prague’s culinary school, recommended the spot so we knew it was a chic solid bet. Lunch came into about $8 for a smoked salmon croissant and bowl of gazpacho almost as good as my Sevilla Senora’s.  

Prague is home to many things. A castle, two cathedrals with the same name by the same architect, and a million touristy souvenir shops. Historically, Prague was the sight of the first defenestration. This means that in a revolution a long time ago, a few guys were thrown out of a window because other guys didn’t like their leadership style. The window of defenestration is housed in the Prague Castle.

We hiked up to the castle with a sneaky picture break at St. Nicks (you know, when you aren’t supposed to enter without paying, muchless photograph, but the guard only catches you once the deed is done). When we made it up to the top (think Miley Cyrus, “The Climb” playing in my head the whole way), we only had an hour for our castle compound visit. We bought our student rate tickets from a colorblind guide (he didn’t know our IDs were all purple and then informed us most colors appear neutral to him), we dashed toward stop #1. A photographer’s daughter took our picture outside the impressive St. Vitus cathedral. Upon entering, I can only described the reaction as a stained glassgasm. Whoa. The most intricate and vibrant colored glass shouts across the huge space from every corner. Next came the castle part of the castle: it’s very medieval, with big glazed ceramic furnaces and old graffiti in each room, from a banquet hall to a library and a few royal chambers. 

Everything is littered with crests and gothic arches, and incredible views of the whole red-roofed city. 

On the way to our last stop, we popped in a smaller chapel, St. George’s, which was old and had remnants of paint that showed it must’ve once been beautiful. Last, we came to the Golden Walk, a tiny  Dulock village with all types of armor on display in narrow market hallways with tiny viewing slots for guards to shoot arrows at intruders.

Vicky bought a mediocre pastry, like a hollow cinnamon bun without the gooey sticky part that makes it good. We nommed on it as we walked down and out of the compound, stumbling on a hillside path through a vineyard. At the bottom, we walked across to a chocolate shop in Old Town Square and split a skinny slice of caramel chocolate fudge. I said a sad goodbye to my wonderful companions at the corner of my block, as the local farmer’s market at Republicky was closing. I walked home exhausted and got ready for Shabbat in Prague!

Wherever you go, there's always something Jewish

On Friday morning, I had a small group tour arranged for Avi and me to see the Jewish Quarter with a knowledgeable guide. With my kosher bakery croissant in hand, I followed Jewish Czech guide Barbora with a young Canadian couple and a pair of older Americans through the windy streets of Prague’s old ghetto. Jews have been in Prague on record as early as the 900s. The first synagogue was built in 1280, and a pogrom occurred there less than 30 years later. The Jews were relegated to the most flooded land by the river, with a tiny plot of land where houses were built on top of one another as the community tried to cram dozens of thousands of people into an area smaller than Scarsdale Village.

We saw the Old New Synagogue, the Spanish Synagogue, the Maisels Synagogue, the Pinchas Synagogue, and the Klausen Synagogue, plus the Jewish Cemetery. Here are the short facts on each, plus my reactions:

Old New: Cool to stand where people have prayed since 1280, with vaulted ceilings and cryptic Hebrew messages on walls. The Womens section is a gallery to the side, with tiny window slits women clamor over to get a glimpse of whats happening. Historic, but not a good spiritual environment for the egalitarian within me. I can’t really blame them, it was 1280, but now its 2013 and this isn’t my scene.

Spanish Synagogue: Two words I love! This reform shul from the 1800s is the first and only of Prague. While it’s designed in a Moorish style, the garish golden geometric patterns and the huge organ make it feel like more of a concert hall than a sanctuary. Here, Barbora explained Emperor Josef’s decree that Jews change their names to standard convention firsty-lasties because he couldn’t keep track of which Moishe ben Avraham had paid his taxes. When the names were changed, people picked pretty names like Rosenzweig (rosebud), and sometimes the names were picked for them, like Kleinman (little man). Barbora literally explained over 50 names, from the Goldsteins to the Silverbergs – probably the majority of people I know can trace their families to this name change.

Maisels: No longer in use, the space is more of a traditional open sanctuary, now converted into an artifact museum. It has some cool things like the cloak of a guy who thought he was the messiah, a funny hat the government used to make the Jews wear that ended up becoming the community symbol, and some preserved prayer books from the 1500s.

Pinkas: A former community yeshiva founded by a wealthy Czech philanthropist, the space now has the names, birth and last record dates of Czech Jews who were murdered in the Holocaust. Think of a sizeable chapel with floor-to-ceiling inscriptions in tiny scribed print detailing all of these names, giving life to the countless multitudes who were silenced by evil. It’s an overwhelming place, as I frantically searched through towns, alphabetically, for anyone who might have been related to me. Upstairs, children’s paintings from Terezin transit camp, north of Prague, are housed. An art teacher risked saving these children’s works in two suitcases under camp floorboards before going with them to Auschwitz, providing her students some sort of support on their last transport.

Klausen: An exhibition hall for holidays and occasions, there are menorahs and megillahs and that kind of stuff. I was pretty synagogued out at this point.

To say the least, I was ready to move away from this haunted and eerie quadrant of the city and headed across the river for lunch. 

In Which I Walk and Talk My Way Through Prague

After a delayed arrival to Prague, travelmate Avi and I rolled our suitcases over to Namesti Republiky and settled into our apartment, with enormous street-facing windows offering a view from the 6^th floor near the river. For a first AirBnB rental, I’d say it’s fair and square but nothing exceptionally special – it is nice to be greeted by a local host, in this case, an expat, and the unexpected washing machine is a huge added bonus. Underwear was becoming scarce. But laundry could wait – there’s a city to see!

We made it over to Old Town Square to pick up one of the highly recommended ‘free’ walking tours. Disneyland was clearly inspired by Prague. The city is all spires and colors and red tiled rooftops and those kitschy Christmas markets, even though it’s August. I ate a scoop of overpriced ice cream for lunch after realizing I was starving in front of the astronomical clock.

As I asked a tour seller why I should go with his company instead of a competitor, he gave a stupid answer like ‘because we’re great!’ but I stopped listening because he was interrupted by a familiar voice. “Stef Groner?!?!” Pam, a friend from Northwestern, just happened to be taking the same tour at the same time with her friend Vicky, another ‘Cat. We embraced gleefully and decided to head off on the three-hour walking extravaganza with the same guide. 

On the tour, we learned many fun facts, like how a Nazi official ordered two guards throw a statue of Felix Mendelssohn, a Jewish composer, off the top of the Philharmonic. When the guards went up, they couldn’t figure out which one was Mendelssohn, so they measured the statues’ noses and ended up throwing highly anti-semitic Wagner down instead. Wagner happened to be Heidleger’s favorite. Oops.

All of the tour guide’s stories were awkward, slightly funny maybe, and mostly tragic. Students burning themselves in communist revolt, the astronomical clock maker blinded by the government, committing suicide in the clock’s gears – I’ll just stop. You get the picture, except this went on for three hours. And then I had to tip her still.

After the tour, Avi and I went to book dinner for Shabbat  at Dinitz on the recommendation of a friend, and then we stopped by Chabad to check it out. Their new center looks like a mancave nightclub, and I instantly regreted not booking dinner there instead.

I walked home and was tired and wanted to be alone, but on the walk back realized being alone is… really lonely. So, I googled ‘Prague Meetup’ and found an event for 7 p.m. about a half-mile walk away, called Travel Massive #7, a group for travel professionals and enthusiasts – I think I might qualify in both categories at this point.

I arrived at Nebe and met German Alexandra and Slovak Miro and Romanian Budno and two guys with the same name, one Czech and one Australian. I was probably the youngest and the Australian, the oldest, in his ‘60s. Over a pina colada and ginger ale, I had weird conversations about what I’m doing in Israel, how most people don’t really like their jobs, why people judge you when you do stuff alone, and if living in New York is like Sex in the City. Yes, someone really asked me if New York is like that. I explained that you’d have to be super-rich to live like that, and most of us are not. This disappointed the modelesque Czech girl who could’ve easily played Katinka in Zoolander.

I’m really glad I went. It’s healthy to do out-of-comfort, once-in-a-lifetime things like that, if they’re in well-lit areas with sizeable groups of people. Unfortunately, I got lost in the dark on the way home after thinking I spotted a shortcut, and was terrified. I made it back with the help of a luxury hotel doorman, and ate a slice of pizza in bed because I basically forgot to eat all day.

After that, I slept the most soundly I had in a week.