Jsem z Americky

Adventures in Prague continue along with the list of Czech words I am able to say.  However, my nationalism is still abundantly apparent, hence the title of today's post.  Much of the last week has been spent in Czech class and exploring the city, of which I have much more to do.  Fun fact: Prague has a beach!  Yes, my geographically-minded friends, the Czech Republic is landlocked, but sandy beaches abound if one takes the time to travel by tram down the Vlatava River.  The water is cold, yet refreshing, and the site of beach volleyball courts, palm trees, and straw huts deceive one into thinking he is in Hawaii, not Central Europe.  My first time outside of Prague since I arrived came on Saturday, when our program traveled to the mining town of Kutna Hora, about one hour outside of Prague.  This very old, sleepy town draws tourist for the veracity of its silver mines.  We were fortunate enough to travel 2,100 feet underground and explore the world of the brave miners who worked there in the 14th century.  I was never, and am still not, under the impression that mining was a glamorous occupation, but I have come to be both shocked and impressed by the horrible conditions under which these men worked.  We were lucky enough to have lamps, but when we turned them off, it was total darkness.  Never before have I been in such a situation.  The miners were forced to use touch and sound to distinguish silver from rock, something I have no doubt takes much concentration and training.  The tunnels we walked through in the mines were so small that even the smallest of us had to crouch and turn sideways just to get through them.  If you have claustrophobia, these mines are your nightmare, not to mention the tiny chutes the miners slid down in order to descend into the mines.  Despite the wet slime of the walls, I found this experience fascinating and feel very gratified to know that I will never have to call mining my occupation.  When we resurfaced, we went to visit the famous Bone Church.  As silver mining became increasingly demanded, more and more land was needed.  In one such instance the land of choice contained a mass grave.  Instead of disposing of these bodies, one man decided to make art out of them.  The bone church is the canvas upon which these bones are displayed.  They are amazing and haunting; I found them beautiful but was then hit with the fact that these bones once belonged to actual people.  Thousands of skulls and other bones sit in heaps or in artistic formations throughout the church, truly a sight.  So much more to see in the coming months!

Dekuju!