1st Day Back

I know we're back and life is returning to normal, but normal is different for us now, so I thought I would keep up with just a few more posts to talk about what we observe in this strange land.

I already mentioned that getting back to our house was satisfyingly familiar, yet there were some things that stood out as different. First was the smell (or lack thereof). I'm used to a place smelling like the Picharffs and it did not. Nothing a couple of days of living here can't cure though. I've reached on the wrong side of doorways for a light switch, stood with furrowed brow in front of another switch plate with three light switches wondering which to flip, and admired the nice work of the landscapers who put some field stones out in front of the house as an edge for a perennial bed.

I got up Friday to go to the store and get food for breakfast. First, I opened the freezer to see if there was juice. It was enormous. What on earth do people use all that space for?

Speaking of enormous...the intersections and the streets are all huge. I keep thinking that there must have been buildings there when we left and they were razed for some reason, leaving a big gap in the view. Oh, and there are traffic lights everywhere. And stop signs. Why not yield signs?

Wanting to merge the best of the two worlds, I walked to the grocery store to get breakfast food. It's only about 1.25 miles there. Despite it being a work day and light out, I saw very few cars, no bikes, and the only pedestrians were going from their house to their cars.

I walked past lots of houses surrounded by lawn, maybe a few foundation plants as landscaping. While I find the Minnesota vernacular characterless, it occurred to me that others may find some great aesthetic value in it. Otherwise why would we make our yards, look like our streets, look like our parking lots - big and devoid of distinguishing features.

After breakfast of waffles and sausages swimming in a sea of pure maple syrup, I went to buy a car. I found a nice Dodge Grand Caravan at a price I liked. Kristine didn't like, however, the fact that the guy had purchased the car a month before at a repo auction in Ohio and so he had no service records, and didn't have the title yet. So, we went to a dealership instead and bought a 2005 Chrysler Town & Country (not white).

Finally, we rounded out the evening with a feast at Token BBQ in Mapleton where the food was excellent and we got to see the Gregors, Brother Kidd and Taylors.

I wanted to include some pics, but if we waited for me to get them, it would be old news.
Peter

We're Back

We made it back to Minnesota last night after a long and arduous trek. Here's a quick summary and status report...


I went running one very last time with Aleš and the missionaries. At the Tree, Aleš proposed doing 50 Canadian Pushups. That had always been the dream, but could we do it? We did. I went home a weary but satisfied man.  Best of all, the sun came out. It was promising to be a beautiful, if brisk, day.

Meanwhile, Kristine was checking to see if British Airways had reinstated our first flight. No luck. She got our seat assignments for the first two legs.

While Kristine and Lucy cleaned, Caleb and I boxed up our bikes. That's right. Instead of selling them as used bikes and losing a lot of their value, we jettisoned two suitcases to make room for the bikes. More on this later.

We walked downtown for the last time and got kolačky at one of our favorite bakeries. We ate them on the square as the weather turned colder and the skies darkened.

Kristine went to the art gallery then and used part of the money we got back from our deposit on the apartment on some painting she had been eying. Unfortunately, and this led to the only tears of the day, one that she really wanted had a little red sticker on the frame. It was being held for someone else who had already paid a deposit. It was of a little old lady, apparently a peasant, leaving through the gate at a large estate where she probably worked as a washer or something.  She had fallen in love with that little anonymous peasant grandma, had visited her several times and had planned to bring her home to live with us.  It didn't work out.

Aleš arrived and we loaded the luggage in the van and in a top carrier. The bikes, packed in cardboard boxes, got strapped onto the bike rack with a little plastic wrapped around them. By noon we were off.

The block and a half drive to Aleš house was uneventful. We needed to get more straps for the bikes.

Once again we were off and saying goodbye to Česke Budějovice.

On the drive up it started to sprinkle, then rain heavily. Meanwhile the plastic got shredded in the wind. I kept envisioning the boxes disintegrating and our bikes falling off the rack, sliding down the highway, and getting crushed under the wheels of a semi. Not so, however. We made it. At the hotel we carried eight suitcases, five carry ons, two soggy bike boxes, and a car seat up to our rooms.

Our plan had been to go garden hopping around Prague. It was still raining. When the rain subsided to a sprinkle and Kristine, in particular, was stir crazy, we hit the road. We visited the garden at Prague Castle and beautiful Waldštejn Zahrada (shown in image off the web on the right).

After a nice dinner (Czech food, of course), we went out looking for ways to spend our remaining Czech money. This was no fun. Shopping stinks on a good day, but at the end of a long day when you have to spend money it is awful. There was a dishonest Russian lady that tried to help us though. Kristine bought a couple of T-shirts. Kristine only had a large bill and the woman said they couldn't make change, but then sent a coworker out to get change. Then, when she should have given back 700 crowns in change, she only handed over 600 (100 crowns is 5 or 6 dollars, depending on the exchange). Kristine said, wait a minute, you owe me another 100 crowns back. The woman, grinning, said that she only had 200 crown bills and so we were out of luck. Kristine had 100 crowns in change to break her 200 crown bill. This put a bad taste in all our mouths.

Thursday, I set out at 7:00 a.m. to spend more money. I thought I'd buy some videos in Czech. There wasn't a whole lot open with much selection, though, and two hours later, I'd not spent much. I was desperate. I even thought about getting jewelry for Kristine. I was ready to get a Thai massage. The beggars weren't even out to lend me a hand.

On the way back to the hotel the tram train broke down. I was running out of time and didn't know how to get to the hotel from where we were. Fortunately, the train could still move out of the way and a new one came along.

We reinforced our rain damaged bike boxes with more duct tape. While waiting for the shuttle, Kristine declared that we would never be taking bikes along again. Then the shuttle came to take us to the airport. He looked at the bike boxes and said, "That's not luggage." There was some mention of "sileny" (crazy) American muttered by Kristine and the van driver as they watched. We crammed them in there though (barely).

At the airport, we learned that, although we had already been assigned seats, they had reshuffled and none of us was sitting by each other. "But we have a three year old." Typical Czech Shrug. At the gate they realized it was more than a simple shrugging matter. The plane left late, but we had five seats all in a row.

After a couple of hours in London and really starting to get smelly and testy, we were off to Chicago. Movies make life easier sometimes.

In Chicago, we had a four hour wait and a loopy Silas on our hands. He was starting to cry about everything. We were melting down.

One more flight to Minnesota and, there, gloriously, were the Taylor's waiting for us at midnight (seemed like 7 a.m. to us) with big smiles and a homecoming poster. We loaded up our stuff, including two incredibly beat up bike boxes (one was torn open all the way down a side). Another couple hours to Mankato, through historic and pedestrian enhanced Saint Peter, and to the yellow house.

There were sidewalk chalk welcomes, a poster with streamers, and, patriotically-decorated cupcakes (we love our neighbors, the Schroeder's) waiting for us.

Silas ran around looking at long-lost toys, Caleb and Lucy at long-lost books.  Family prayer expressing gratitude for the safe journey.

And finally at 3:30 am, nestled in our own beds, we slept.

Peter

Some More Transportation Related Things

Monday was filled with transportation events. Here's what went on...

Utilizing the most primal mode of rapid transportation, Caleb and I went running along the Malše River with Aleš and the missionaries for the last time. Running along the river is the thing I believe I will miss the most about life here. We set out at 6:30 a.m., ran 2.5 km, and stopped at the gigantic oak tree reverently referred to as the Tree of Life. We were about to do our Canadian Pushups when Aleš announced that on the way back we would be doing time trials for the one mile to the bridge. We still did our pushups (only 2 sets of 12 - each Canadian pushup is a combination of two pushups and then hiking your legs in under yourself and standing up, reaching hands to the sky and doing a heel lift). Then we ran. I didn't want to, it was really just succumbing to peer pressure. Aleš got the best time. Caleb beat me by three seconds. We were a sight, seven guys all hunched over at the end of the bridge, pale and wheezing.

Then I visited the office of the regional department of transportation. Aleš' sister works in the right of way group and arranged my visit. I met with the head of the design group there. This was far out because it looked just like work back home...the people dressed the same, there were stacks of maps and plans around, the VOIP phones had the same ringtones, the HVAC system didn't even work well. Most of the discussion was learning that they do things about the same as we do in Minnesota (for the major roads, the county roads that I so like to talk about are not their responsibility). Here are some interesting things...

• he did not have data on Vehicle Miles Traveled (a measure of total system utilization)
• nor did he have a full set of crash stats - they only get info on specific locations from the police when there is a concern (we are spoiled in MN by having one of the better crash reporting systems in the world).
• There are several roads around Ceske Budejovice that have over 20,000 vehicles per day that are two lane. 
• On a road on the north edge of Ceske Budejovice, but still in the urban area, 30% of the vehicles are heavy commercial. This is astoundingly high. If we get 18% on a rural stretch we recognize it as having lots of trucks. He said that the initial growth in traffic after the borders were open was mostly trucks traveling through from Germany to the south.
• They design for 20 years and their concrete structures are similar in thicknesses and base materials to ours.
• They have a similar process of identifying environmental concerns, public discussion, and municipal consent.
• Investment decisions (which roads to build) are made at the national level (which would be like at the state level for us when you consider land area and population).
• They allow longitudinal utility installation in the right of way, but most utility companies get their own easements adjacent to the right of way. 
• Road construction costs are through the roof here. One project that consisted of 6 km of 2-lane and 6 km of 4-lane and 26 bridges (lots of bridges), cost $120 million. That's a lot. I don't know how big the bridges are though.
• One thing I have observed is that they rarely use box culverts, most small bridges are slab spans.
• Utility costs can account for 20% of the project cost.
• They do no design in house - all the environmental work, design, and construction is done by contract.
• They are building a lot of roundabouts. In this fellow's opinion it was because they are the fashion, not because they necessarily solve the problems. He said most municipalities push for them, especially at the entrance to town. Interestingly, in MN it has been the state DOT that has pushed roundabouts for safety and intersection capacity reasons and the cities have needed to be prodded. 
• Compensation for land is based on a government established standard pricing that is not based on market price. Appraisals are used for buildings, land that contains resources such as trees, etc. They pay 70 Kc per square meter for rural land for small roads and 100 Kc per square meter for rural land for the freeway. There are 4,047 meters squared in an acre, so that is over $20,000 per acre - way more than the market rate for land.

It was a nice visit and got me excited to go back to work. Really.

Our last transportation odyessy was learning that airspace over southern Bohemia was closed due to ash. It does not affect flights out of Prague though. However, the British Airways cabin crew strike will affect flights. Fortunately, it will not affect our flight from London to Chicago or Chicago to MSP. Unfortunately, our flight from Prague to London was canceled. After reviewing our options and talking to the British Airways representatives in India for a while, we have changed our itinerary. We wanted to keep the last two flights the same and go the night before, but they "are unable" to pay for a hotel in London. So, we'll take the 12:15 p.m. flight from Prague. Go to London. Go to Chicago. Sit in Chicago for 4.5 hours camped out at the British Airways desk (they would not book us on an earlier flight with an airline that is not their partner and would not tell us how much our refund would be if we cancel that leg and book our own - they said we'd have to talk with our travel agent). Then we fly to Minneapolis arriving at 11:45 p.m. where the Taylors will be waiting to give us a ride to Mankato.

In another annoying complication, Kristine had a communist-style customer service experience yesterday. Six weeks ago she went to the phone company store to cancel internet access effective this week. They said they couldn't do it in the store and gave her a number to call. She called and was told that none of the English operators was available and please leave a message so someone can get back to us. She did. A week later she called again. Same thing. No one ever got back to us and so she went to the store yesterday. They fellow (a nice guy) tried to give her the English number, but she instead took the Czech number. She sat in their office while all the people in line listened to her explain the problem, be told that it was not their department, and transfer her to someone else. This was repeated four times! And the last person, disregarding her pleas to not be transferred yet again, transferred her to the English speaking number...The people in the store finally just took the information and faxed it to their HQ. We tried later to send a nasty gram, but, on the website, all of the write to us links only take you back to the list of phone numbers - except for the comments on the website link - so I sent them a note in both (bad) Czech and English saying their phone customer service stinks.

We got together with the Chrdlovi and Tučkovi and Jarda last night for some headcheese and hanging out. So we said goodbye (though we'll see most of them again today).

Today is packing and cleaning. Tomorrow we go up at about noon.

I just check the British Airways website. The courts have prevented the strike from taking place. They are reinstating some flights, though our critical one still has not been.

Have a good day.

Peter

Carlessness

Though I risk being dubbed un-American and having my political career ruined before it even begins, I must confess that we do not own a car. Not here and, at the moment, not even back in the States.


It's not just the gross inefficiency of the internal combustion engine (80% of the energy value of the gas is simply lost), or the pollution (warning - the neutrality of the link is disputed), or the noise, or the space dedicated to roads and parking (1.7% of U.S. land area according to Kaufmann, 2001, I have to admit here that some of the stats may be slanted), or number of pedestrians killed by automobiles (just under 5000 people annually in the U.S.). For me, as much as any of these, is that it's awfully difficult to connect with the earth or our neighbors when we wrap ourselves in steel.

On the other hand, I too enjoy whizzing across continents to visit friends and relations, see new and different places, and attend work meetings. There are even those occasions where I see a car as a thing of beauty (e.g. Brother Evans' Ford Fairlane). My purpose today is not to advocate the elimination of the automobile, but simply to report on the things we like and dislike about being carless.


What I like about not having a car:

•  Walking - it feels good, helps me think, and makes for nice legs.
• Biking - when I need to get somewhere local fast, the bike is fun.
• Saying "Good Day" to people - we rarely mouth "Good Day" to people we interact with on the road.
• Seeing things - architectural details, flowers, children playing, the river - all best enjoyed when not a blur.
• Reading - on the bus or train I can learn stuff and let someone else stress about getting me where I want to go.
• Looking at my Wife - when I drive she prefers I watch the road, on the train I can gaze at her all I want.
• Footpaths - where cars are less dominant, little paths for bikes and peds spring up and they are usually more interesting than a 28 foot wide strip of bituminous.

What I like about having a car:

• Carrying groceries during rainstorms - it's nice to have the flour dry when you get home.
• Visiting distant castles - there are places where it is just not efficient to take transit, either for the transit agency or for the infrequency of trips that then makes a short visit an all day trip.
• Home Teaching - when you want to visit multiple people in one afternoon (like for our home teaching program at church), the car is useful.
• Home Improvement - except a car doesn't really cut it, this is why a fella needs a pickup too.

Anyway, I felt no great loss at not driving for nearly nine months. My manliness did not diminish as far as I could tell and I felt a great freedom to just come and go. On the other hand, it was nice having a car for our week long vacation and it was kind of exhilarating zipping along on the narrow roads. Truth be told, I couldn't drive 55. I would have even bought a car if I could have found a nice old Škoda like this at a good price.


With that said, I need to buy a minivan - this Friday morning - because we'll be back in the land where, in the words of Antonio Toniolo (a grad student from Argentina) citing Dr. Gary Parker, "si no tenés auto, no sos nada" (if you don't have a car, you are nothing). We're looking for a 2005-2006 model year. Nothing fancy. Preferably not white. If anyone knows anyone selling such a fine work of engineering, please let us know.

-Peter

To Everything - Turn, Turn, Turn

It's Sunday evening. We fly back to the States on Thursday. I've got a lot more thoughts to try to cram into posts in the next few days; observations we never got around to writing about. But tonight I'm feeling a little thoughtful about leaving.

I can't say I've been looking forward to going back. It's been a good experience for me here in terms of spiritual development, outdoor adventuring, and learning. Geez, I'm just starting to get a handle on Czech. In Spanish I would say, me hallo aqui (I find myself here). So, I've been sort of moody and down on the whole idea of returning, even hoping for more extensive volcanic eruptions (I've got a contingency bike trip planned in case natural or civil disasters ground our plane). I went so far as to forbid the kids to have a smile on their faces when they say how many days before we go.

Well the kids and I just spent the last couple days at a father & children camp for church. There were Czechs, Moldavians, Ukranians, and Americans - all living in the Czech Republic now for one reason or another. It was sort of the ultimate multilingual experience as people spoke or signed or grunted to get their meanings across. It was nice.

Kristine, by the way, went to Prague and saw the opera The Devil and Kate by Antonin Dvorak and followed it up with Marscapone cake at a sugar shop.

So, back to the campout...the pinnacle for me was an early morning walk along a stream that ran through the camp. It was the ultimate Czech landscape (at the base of Mount Blanik - from which the Knights of Blanik will ride forth, led by Saint Vaclav to save the Czechs in their darkest hour). Walking in those woods, through what constitutes paradise for me (terrain and vegetation like the Minnesota River valley), I felt a peace like a fish pond and have accepted that the time has come.

One just hopes that they can take a little of the good things and make them part of life back in Minnesota. Carp and potato salad at Christmas. Swatting girls on the bum at Easter. Sipping herbal tea with breakfast now and again.

The moodiness is gone now and I'm really looking forward to seeing those dear people that collectively make our lives rich and full back on the other side of the world. See you in four days. :)

-Peter

Road Trip to Moravia

Greetings Folks. We just returned from a week long vacation in Moravia (the eastern part of the Czech Republic). Lots to tell, little time to do it. Here are the highlights...

Friday

What we did: Rented car (went wrong way on one way and cussed before I even drove the 1km to get it home (it took me 3 km on the odometer to get here)), crammed all three kids in the back of a Škoda Fabia, missed turn before we were out of Česke Budějovice, went off the road a little bit trying to leave enough space between us and an oncoming car - problem is there are no shoulders and the ditch is steep - kept in control and learned to be comfortable with less buffer between me and a head on collision (Kristine's hand print is indelibly impressed on the door handle though), carp statue in roundabout in Třeboň, visited romantic castle in UNESCO city Telč, visited Jewish quarter with narrow streets, Jewish cemetery, and cut stone cathedral in Třebič (also UNESCO World Heritage Sites), arrived in Brno to stay with the Řezač family. 
Most striking: Old headstones with Hebrew inscriptions amid ivy and forget-me-nots.
Morale: Started the trip with Kristine, Lucy and Silas suffering from colds, Caleb and Peter still drained from biking. Despite this and tight quarters and rain forecast for the entire week, spirits are upbeat.
Road Report: Country roads are narrow, but not too much traffic. Speed limit is 90 km/hr (56 mph) though we rarely attain it because curves are designed for much less. Lots of people passing me on this day.

Jewish Cemetery in Trebic. From 2010-05

Saturday

What we did: Went to the limestone caves of the Moravian Karst, toured Punkva cave complex, saw the Macocha Abyss from above and below, rode in boats through caves, hiked along trails in wet woodlands, went to crypt of Capuchin Monks in Brno and saw the mummies and the plaque over them that says "As you are, we once were. As we are, you shall be.", hung out with the Řezač family more.

Funniest: Telling, retelling and continually embellishing the story of why the Macocha ("step-mother") abyss is so named (step-mother threw step-daughter down, but she caught a tree and woodcutters rescued her and threw in the step-mother) because Silas was fixated on the story. Also, needing to explain how the mummies died (Silas slept through this tour) and that they are not mommies. Also, Caleb grumpily saying that he was obviously smiling in the photo below and we didn't need a re-take.

Road Report: Mostly local, well traveled. No problems.

Sunday

Fountain with kolonade in background at Kroměřiž. From 2010-05

What we did: Went to church in Brno, found it easier to understand people here, talked with people Kristine knew from her mission, mistakenly did not take signed detour routes, went to nice romantic garden in Kroměřiž where they were filming a movie, went through lots of roundabouts, made it to Štramberk - a beautiful little city on a hillside, visited friends Milada and Jiři Hejkal.
Most striking: the village of Stramberk is a hidden gem, off the international tourist route, truly magical
Most funny: Our Czech grandpa, Jiri, and his constant wisecracks--when he heard the airport had closed for the day because of volcanic ash, he declared that we should start walking home, just make sure we also have our swimsuits along.
Road Report: Signage here is different than in the U.S. Routes may or may not be numbered and even, if they are, the number is on a small sign and not repeated often. Instead signs say where the road goes. With that, however, they may list the next town or the next big town or some random town somewhere along that particular road. Kristine (navigating) would tell me, "take the road that goes to..." and list off three towns to make sure one of them showed up on the sign. Detours were a problem. They may begin suddenly and only be communicated by a small orange sign with an arrow pointing where the detour goes. You may not get a warning about a road closed ahead such that by the time you find out you have to backtrack a km or two. Despite the poor signing, we found it best to follow signed detours because the "well, I'll stay on this road and take the next connecting road" approach doesn't work so well in a place where there is not a grid system for the road network.

Monday

What we did: Worked in Hejkal's garden, climbed around in old quarry and hiked up White Mountain, ate the best fruit dumplings ever, hung out with Hejkal's
Most striking: The village Štramberk was just as cute as a bug's ear.
Most heart-touching: Silas and Jiři goofing around together stealing each others' pillows on the sofa.
Most heartbreaking: Climbing a wet rock face (some 40 feet tall) and seeing Caleb reach the top while his old man chickened out half way up.
Road Report: Just drove back and forth between penzion and Hejkalovi, streets were at a phenomenal slope.

Us with MIlada and Jiri. From 2010-05

Tuesday

What we did: Hiked up to the old castle tower overlooking Štramberk, ate Štramberske Uši (Stramberk Ears - a circular gingerbread cookie folded around to form something sort of like a funnel, made here since 1241 when the people, taking refuge from the invading Tartars, prayed for help and a rainstorm flooded the Tartar camp. They are in the shape of ears because the invaders would cut off the Christians' ears), hung out with the Hejkal's, got tips on how to make better fruit dumplings, drove to Polička, ate at a medieval style restaurant.
Most fat on a single platter: My 1000 gram serving of roasted pig's knee was big and bold.

Road Report: I was getting used to driving by now.

Wednesday

From 2010-05

What we did: Went to Oldřiš (ancestral home of the Picha's), visited graveyards, Kristine went to the museum and learned about composer Bohuslav Martinu and the Polička area (including getting a photo of the kroje (folk dress) from the region, escaped the rain for a while, went hiking to the highest point in the Vysočina (the highlands region), a place called Devět Skal (nine rocks) with these cool rock formations atop the hill, took Lucy to urgent care (15 minutes after it closed).
Most striking: Rocks at Devet Skal
Most depressing: Everything for Lucy at this point with her throat hurting to the point of tears.
Road Report: Splendid driving in the hills, the road would actually narrow around trees (i.e. the trunk was half on the road).

Thursday

What we did: Took Lucy to a clinic and got her penicillan for strep throat, visited Jimramov and Konikov (ancestral homeland of the Hloušek's, Great Grannie Annie came over to the States when she was 14), drove home, returned car, went to concert (but left at intermission because Kristine was coughing and Peter was sleeping).
Most striking: Doctor's bill, including medication, was less than $30! How much getting back home felt like home.

Funniest: Black bags under our eyes.
Road Report: Lots of roundabouts again, noticed that they do a lot of spot milling and overlaying on their bituminous roads, makes them look like a patchwork and, on some of the minor roads, made them rough as heck. Work zone signing is not good.

It was fun. Need to rest. No time to rest. The kids and I are leaving for camp in an hour. Kristine is going to Prague for an opera tomorrow.

-Peter

Biking to the Alps

Caleb's journal entry regarding the Alps biking trip (with Peter's editorial remarks in parentheses):

From 2010-05

"I just got back from a biking trip to the Alps.  The first day we took a train to Linz, then Micheldorf in Austria.  We biked along  a greenish-blue mountain stream. The mountains were amazing, but they felt like they were pressing in on me, almost unpleasantly.  The first day we biked 10 km and 800 vertical meters up a mountain (total mileage for the day was some 35+ miles).  It was really hard.  We were actually up in the clouds at the top.  There was still snow on the ground and it was really cold.  We biked down a steep mountain trail along the side of a cliff.  It just dropped into an abyss, the bottom was clouded so we couldn't see all the way down.  We heard and saw a small rock slide behind us on the trail.It was a little unnerving.  Finally we made it to a town and found a hotel for the night.  Nice hotel and good warm food.  We biked 8 hours the first day. (By the time we sat down to eat everyone was a little loopy)."


"The second day started out sunny (and with two navigational errors that cost us lots of time - it's tough biking for two hours and looking down the mountain to see our hotel right below us when we should have been on the next mountain over).  We biked into the Kalkalpen National Park full of brutal uphill climbs.  At one point it was not bikeable and we had to carry our biked instead of riding.  This went on for two hours.

Again we biked through clouds at the tops of crests.  Coming down one slippery grassy slope, I crashed and scraped up my elbow.  My dad's friend says every proper bike trip includes a little blood.  At one point we could only see a hilltop rising out of the clouds. It was surreal.  There was a little farm place up on the mountain in the clouds where some nice women let us refill our water bottles.  We rode down the mountains on steep, rocky, wet slopes.  Part of the way we rode through rock tunnels carved out under the mountains.  We finally ended up at a pension at 8:30pm! An older couple fed us soup, sausages and bread for dinner even though we arrived past the regular cooking hours.  They had pity on the muddy, tired Americans.  That day we biked 10 hours! (This night we were too tired even to be loopy)."

From 2010-05

"On the third day we woke up and had rolls with meat, cheese, and jam for breakfast. Then left the penzion. We biked along the river to Enns. Fifty-for miles in six hours of riding. Exhausting and endless. I was so miserable and sore. We rode through a city (Steyr) - kind of cool. Made it with 10 minutes to spare to catch our train to Linz, then barely caught the connection from Linz to home. We had to keep our bikes in a narrow hallway and at first didn't have a place to sit. Made it to Ceske Budejovice. Rode our bikes home in the rain."

It was a very exhausting trip. I'm still slightly sore. Wednesday night when I closed my eyes I could still see the bike trail we rode that morning and afternoon. I think I dreamed of biking. Pretty sick of biking right now. (But we're all looking forward to our next trip - in the Andes).

From 2010-05

- Caleb

(Bonus Video)

From 2010-05

A Week with Bryan

My friend Bryan, who also works at the Minnesota Department of Transportation (Central Corridor Project), came for a visit and a cycling holiday. Here is a quick summary of what we did during his first week and a half.

Prague
Notes from our adventures with my Mom and Aunt in Prague can be found at this post.

Rafting
On the last Saturday in April we took advantage of the annual opening of the flood gates at the dam in Řimov and floated on the Malše River from there almost to our front door in České Budějovice. The water was still not very high and there was little danger, but it was plenty of fun for the whole family. We packed all of us and Bryan onto a raft. The Chrdlovi family, and several others they know from around the country, and dozens of other boaters also went. After a beautiful day in the sun, we gathered at Chrdlovi's for a BBQ.

From 2010-04

From 2010-04

Divči Kamen
Of course. Also biked a good bit with Caleb.

From 2010-04

Jindrichuv HradecThis historic, old city had been on our list for some time. Kristine told us she was going and we were welcome to accompany her, so we went along. The main goal was to see the castle that belonged to the Hradec family, and the thing we most wanted to see in the castle was the kitchen. It is a still-functioning Black Kitchen that was famous for giving porridge to the poor on Maundy Thursday. Alas, it was not open for tours yet. Still the castle was nice and the Roundel Music Pavilion was beautiful - prompting Kristine to declare that next time we are here we will plan a trip for when we can go to a concert in the pavilion. Later we biked to Hluboka to get a picture in front of the castle then raced home to get Caleb to orchestra practice.

Česky Krumlov
We biked from Česke Budějovice to Řimov to Zlata Koruna to Česky Krumlov (with Silas in the child seat) and wandered around the gardens and through the castle courtyards. We ate at a tavern where they cooked our meat over a fire in the dining area. Tired out, we took the train back home.

From 2010-04

Treboň and Horseradish
Kristine took us along to the nice city of Treboň - the Carp Capital of the World. Bryan and I biked there and back. Tiring. Nice castle grounds. We also walked along a big carp pond to the masoleum of the Schwarzenberg family. That night Kristine and I went on a date to an orchestra concert. Bryan came along. In Czech they call the third wheel, the extra guy along on a date, "horseradish."

Hardware Store and a Sigh of Relief
Tired, we biked around town and took it easy. Bryan found a wrench at a hardware store, but we couldn't find a bright blue jumpsuit that is typical of laborers for him. Caleb came home from school a happy man. It was his last day. They were so nice to him. In celebration, Bryan and I took him biking on a hard ride to the base of the hills west of town and Kristine took him to a fancy restaurant. Lucy finish up school on Thursday the 6th because she didn't go biking to the Alps.

From 2010-05

Plzeň
Went and visited our friends Maruška and Madla. We ate phenomenal svičkova, hung out in the garden, and when to a WWII historical reenactment as they were celebrating the 65th anniversary of the liberation of Plzen by US forces.

Biking to the Alps
This semi-epic adventure gets its own post - coming out shortly.




Bryan's Thoughts
We ran out of time for Bryan's thoughts. We put Bryan on the train this morning.

-Peter

The Hills are Alive

It's been a rich musical year for our family...violin lessons, orchestra rehearsals, church choir practices, season tickets to the orchestra, and I was even designated the church pianist in our little congregation (they were really desperate.)

"Every Czech is born with a violin under his chin." Despite this being the traditional saying, after looking at a list of faculty at the music school, we realize it's more likely to be an accordian.  There are more accordian teachers at Caleb's music school than violin teachers.  Is anyone even aware of a single accordian teacher back home?  Other popular instruments are the classical guitar and the wooden recorder, which is often played as a musician's primary instrument and not just as a starter instrument.

Recital Hall in which Caleb's orchestra plays From music

Caleb's music school is housed in a former monastery, and along with the adjoining church, it is the oldest building in Ceske Budejovice.  It was originally built in 1265 right as the city was founded and has been renovated many times. It's a lovely experience to attend Caleb's lesson each week and walk under the 25 foot vaulted ceilings. During orchestra practice I often wait in the courtyard which is lined with religious statues and has a tall ivy-covered wall on one end.  The school also teaches art and often there are art projects installed on the grounds.

Caleb plays in a small string orchestra with about a dozen other musicians.  Their conductor is the concert master of the philharmonic, Mr. Ludek Volek.  He is a friendly, energetic man who has been very helpful to Caleb. He began the year by repeating all the instructions in English, then half way through the year stopped translating and it's gone just fine.

Gorgeous hallway in music school From music

Jaroslav Sklenicka is Caleb's private teacher, he's also very cheerful and affirming.  I think I had visions of finding music teachers who resembled old Slavic taskmasters.  Gratefully, that stereotype turned out to be incorrect.  At first I attended the lessons to act as translator, as Mr. Sklenicka spoke very little English. Caleb's Czech improved, as did Mr. Sklenicka's English, so unfortunately they don't need me anymore.  It was a time I looked forward to each week to hear beautiful music and relax in a gorgeous environment.

A Czech friend had warned me that music education here is very steeped in technique.  Ninety percent of the lesson is spent on scales, arpeggios, etudes, intonation, tone production, etc.  At first Caleb was very frustrated by all the technique, but he now admits it has improved his overall playing.

Ceske Budejovice is home to the Southern Bohemia Chamber Philharmonic Orchestra so we've been privileged to hear great orchestral music every couple of weeks.  Amongst others, we've listened to a local-boy-gone-big-time playing Bohuslav Martinu on the violin, a mezzo-soprano singing Respighi, a famous cimbalist from Slovakia who played three encores (!), a French clarinetist playing a very slinky Gershwin...

We've have noticed a few differences in audience behavior.  Czechs dress rather formally- women usually wear silk, fur and glitter, while men wear suitcoats and ties.  We have yet to see a standing ovation, as we do regularly at the Mankato Symphony Orchestra, but instead the audience claps for a very long time at the end of a piece they enjoy, perhaps 5 minutes. Finally, they start clapping in unison to request an encore.  At more than half of the concerts we have been treated to encores.  When you need to slide down the row past people to get to your seat, the Czechs always, always face the people, unlike in the US where we've noticed a mixture of front and backsides.

I have had the privilege of sitting next to Mr. Zdenek Pycha, a grandpa in his 70's, at these concerts. It's wild for me to find other Picha's and Pycha's here, while at home it's considered quite an unusual name. Mr. Pycha is cute and talkative, telling me about his day's adventures each time we meet.  He spent his life repairing stringed instruments,  and is quite open-minded about music.  Once, when we listened to Martinu, he admitted he hadn't like it, but also declared he was willing to give it another chance.  During intermission he bought a Martinu CD, determined to listen to it 2 or 3 times before he passed final judgment.  I have enjoyed his company.

Silas the dancing warrior From music

You know a country is truly classy when they use classical music to announce the arrival of a train at the busiest station in the capital.  In Prague, you can hear the first four notes of Vysehrad, a movement from the tone poem My Countryland by Bedrich Smetana, each time a train arrives.  One of my wishes for a future adventure here is to attend the opening night of the international music festival, Prague Spring, to hear this piece played.

The Czech lands have produced an inordinate number of world-class composers:
Bedrich Smetana--mentioned above
Antonin Dvorak-- most well-known for his New World Symphony, for me he's up there with Bach!
Bohuslav Martinu-- born in my ancestors' neighborhood
Leos Janacek--whom I'm still working to appreciate, but many others enjoy his work

Mozart hung out in Prague, his opera Don Giovanni premiered there.  We were at a castle last week and saw a piano on which he played.  Gustav Mahler was born, and spent a significant part of his life, here.  The Czechs have produced the famous violinist, Josef Suk and the sopranist, Ema Destinnova who frequently performed with Enrico Caruso.

Renaissance music at a town festival From music

I haven't even touched on their folk music history, which was not popular with the Communists, or their strong choral tradition.  Jazz, blues and dixieland music are frequently heard on the streets of Prague. Occasionally we hear a woman practicing opera on our own town square. Suffice it say, I would love to spend an entire year here just traveling from concert to concert.

This blog entry brought to you by Kristine basking in musical paradise

Fencing

One of the things we most anticipated in moving to the Czech Republic was fencing lessons. We knew historical fencing and sword fighting were more popular here and we were lucky to find a website for a company called ARGO that offers classes in České Budějovice. So, when we came we looked them up and got registered.

 Things started off a bit rocky with my first attempt to speak with the people in Czech. You may recall the post where I tell of discussing whether the breast lesson was free (the words breast and first are similar). For a long time, we were the butt of many a wise crack about our inability to speak Czech. We were also always a step behind because after the teacher explained what to do, we had to sort of watch the other students do it because we couldn't understand the words.



Because of this, we worked extra hard. In November and December we took extra lessons with our assistant teacher, Čenda, and a very experienced young woman and fluent English speaker, Veronika. We also practiced together nearly every day. We figured the only way to gain people's respect would be to be able to defeat them in combat.
 

As time went on, we got a lot better. Also, the teachers seemed to be extra observant of us and did a lot of correcting, which meant we had lots of opportunity to improve. Even better was when Veronika and another young woman who speaks English very well, Bara, started going to the beginners lessons to help us out.

As Caleb and I would practice, we'd spend a fair amount of time fighting. That was my favorite. Caleb has better form and is lightning quick, but I am (despite his daily regimen of pull ups and clap pushups) still a little bit stronger. When we compete, though, he usually wins. We use wood that is about 1/2" x 1" as blades. We have no protective gear, so bruises and scrapes are common. They helped us recognize what parts of our bodies we were leaving open to attack though.

Most of our training was in the Italian School of Fencing, but we did get some demonstrations in the French and Spanish, and some time training in the German School that involved broader, double edged blades.

Back at class two things were a bit frustrating. Of course when you learn a new physical skill you go through it slowly. I understand that to develop good form, slow is critical. But we also wanted to know what it feels like going fast, especially whether it would ever work in real combat. As a result, Caleb and I were always being told to slow down. Sometimes we looked around to make sure no one was watching so we could try things fast. Really, nobody seemed to care about real combat. ARGO does historical reenactments and trains actors. So they are all about making a cool looking choreography instead of fighting. That's their thing. I would have liked more emphasis on combat though.

The other problem was that the class size was getting huge. You couldn't swing a cat without hitting someone, much less a sword. When we discussed this with the teacher, he suggested we try out the more advanced class. We did and it was so much better. The focus was more on sequences of attacks, parries, and counter-attacks. The other students were very knowledgeable and helpful.

So, what will we do to keep up fencing when we go back to Mankato? Caleb and I will keep practicing with what we know. We'll also look around (ad in the paper) and see if we can find a teacher. We'll see if we can hook up with people from the Society for Creative Anachronism (they have regular fighting practice, but it is on Sunday, which we observe as the Sabbath, so we'd need to get people together on a different day). We're also looking at the possibility of Caleb going to Sword Camp at the Minnesota Sword Club this summer. Finally, a friend has asked if Caleb would share his skills with her children, which will improve his skills and provide for more sparring partners.

The whole experience, on the whole, has been great fun and the fulfillment of yet another life long dream of mine. You can't beat that.

Our fencing class. The fellow to the right of Caleb is our instructor, Čemla, he's fun to watch, he moves so smoothly. Bara is behind us with the black and white shirt, Veronika is two people to the right of her and next to her is another one of the assistant teachers. The other fellow who helped us a lot, Čenda, is not in the photo. From fencing

-Peter

Hubler Girls in Prague

It's Saturday morning. I'm exhausted. I just spent the last two days trying to keep up with Eileen and Jeanette on their whirlwind tour of Prague. Here's a quick summary, but then I'm taking a nap.

The train ride went fine, as did checking in to the Pension U Lilie - a small restaurant that rents a number of rooms to travelers - in Prague's Old Town.  While I waited at the statue of Jan Hus on Old Town Square for my friend Bryan to arrive from the U.S., the ladies looked around at the Astronomical Clock, the baroque St. Nicholas church and the Gothic Church of Our Lady Before Tyn (see photo at left).

Meanwhile I noticed that thousands of people from all over the world had descended on Prague to see the sites and eat anything but Czech food. When I went to a bakery to get a sandwich and asked for a poppyseed kolach and they told me they didn't have poppyseed, I popped. Thus began a personal crusade to each Czech food in Prague.

Bryan arrived and, after stowing his gear, we set out to find a place to eat. Prices horrified me, they were 2-3 times higher than for the same meal in České Budějovice. We found a nice place, real Czech food, decent prices, and chowed down. When it came time to leave a tip things got complicated. My book says to leave some 10 Czech Crowns or 10%. When we ate with a Czech friend in a small town recently he thought that leaving more than 10 or 12 crowns on a bill of 800 crowns was too much. We weren't sure whether Prague has evolved to expect more. Meanwhile, the waiter was making disparaging expressions. Kristine assures me that 5% for good service is about right.

Later we walked along Wenceslaus' Square. This long square lacks the charm of the Old Town Square, but it was a nice walk. We paused at the statue of St. Wenceslaus, reading the words inscribed - "Svatý Václave, vévodo české země, kníže náš, nedej zahynouti nám ni budoucím". Actually, we were only looking at the last clause (the first part was on the other side). Despite understanding 80% of the words, I had no clue what it was saying. A young Czech kid tried to help us out. I still didn't get it. Here is the translation as given on Wikipedia..."Saint Wenceslas, duke of the Czech land, prince of ours, do not let perish us nor our descendants"

Then we paused beside a city social services van that was handing out food to homeless people while I consulted the map. Not the best place to obviously be a tourist. We moved on.

After strolling through the streets, stopping at the Myšak Cukrarna for a spot of ice cream, we went back to the pension to listen to loud music everytime somebody opened the door to a nearby bar.

Friday morning we went to Prague Castle. We tried something I had not done before, we paid through the nose for the audio guides. It turns out it was a good investment. I learned a ton. We saw the Old Royal Palace with its phenomenal vaulted hall and sloped steps for horses to go up. We saw St. George's Basilica with its romanesque architecture. We saw Golden Lane with its little shops and Daliborka Tower with its torture devices. Finally, we went into St. Vitus' Cathedral. Nearly 1000 years in the building, it is a magnificent monument to the history of Christianity in Bohemia. The sun was shining through the windows and, since there had been a mass during the morning, the air was filled with incense. It was stunning.

Having spent about two hours longer in Prague Castle than intended, we stumbled down the hill, through Mala Strana, across Charles Bridge with its phenomenal statues (see Bryan on bridge at right), and finally to another little Czech restaurant to eat more dumplings. By this time it was approaching 3:00 p.m. and we still had plenty to do. We pushed on.

In the Jewish Quarter we saw the Pinkas Synagogue with its walls inscribed with the names of the Czech and Moravian victims of the Holocaust. We went through the cemetery and Ceremonial Hall. Then off to the Moorish style Spanish Synagogue and Maisel Synagogue.

By this time Bryan was slurring his speech and stepping off the sidewalk into the street as he dozed off (jet lag). We headed back to the pension. The ladies got ready for the opera while Bryan and I packed up to go.

The final big event was going to be the opera, The Tales of Hoffmann by Offenbach at the richly decorated National Theater. The ladies looked stunning. We meant to get a picture, but forgot at the last minute.

So, we left them there. After the opera they just needed to get back to the pension and then get picked up by a taxi at 8:00 this morning. Bryan and I caught the 7:16 train to home. Someone, please let us know if my mom makes it home.

How was the trip for the ladies? We hope the memory of sore feet and breathless climbs up hills will fade and what will remain are the breathtaking sites and time spent with the kids. If nothing else, they have earned the right to brag about the many kilometers walked and many hills climbed.

Peter

Over the Hill

My mom, Eileen, and Aunt Jeanette have been visiting since last Thursday. They fly home this Saturday. Given the short time they have here, I really wanted to make sure they see all the best sites and eat all the best food. To that end, we've kept up a fairly energetic schedule. One thing I hadn't contemplated in planning our activities is that all the best sites are on the tops of hills and all the bus stops and train stations are at the bottoms.

They made it safely and on-time despite the initial Icelandic volcano rumblings. Thursday night we had a light meal and got reacquainted.

Anticipating some jet-lag, we planned an easy schedule for Friday. A stroll around town in the morning and a duck for dinner. České Budějovice is flat. It sits at the confluence of the Malše and Vltava Rivers. The most climbing they had to do was up to our apartment. The 236 foot tall Black Tower called, however, and Grandma couldn't resist. We entered the black iron door to reveal the stone, spiral stairs. After a tight race up with a fellow half her age, she set foot on the 225th step. It was a sunny day, the view was magnificent. It was also approaching noon, the bells would be ringing soon, so we hurried down. Duck, red cabbage, and another attempt at bread dumplings made a filling dinner.

On Saturday we took a bus to Nove Hrady to visit a park called Terčino Udolí. This nature park was established by a noble for his daughter Teresa in the Stropnice River valley. It affords a relaxing stroll up and down the valley walls overlooking the babbling river. At one end is the gothic fortress Cuknštejn. It is privately owned - quite a house. The premier attraction is the artificial waterfall formed by diverting water in a concrete aquaduct for over a quarter mile to a 20 meter high rock outcrop when it spills over. We had chicken schnitzel with potatoes and a tomato, cucumber salad as a light dinner that night.

Sunday was church day. It was all in Czech, except two verses of I Believe in Christ sung by the choir (the link is not a recording of our choir singing it). Otherwise, the day was spent strolling to see peoples' gardens and talking. We had svičkova with dumplings for dinner. Still struggling with those dumplings. Crepes with Nutella spread on them for dessert.  

All adjusted and rested, we were ready to begin our adventures on Monday. The ladies, Silas, and Peter took the train to the village of Třisov where we hiked the 1.5 km to the castle ruins of Divči Kamen. The walk through the woods was nice, but when the ruins came into view across the Křemežský Stream valley, I started to wonder if this was a mistake. The hike down to the river is treacherous. The hike back up the other side into the castle is tiring. After a quick look around, during which Grandma once again insisted on visiting all the highest places in the ruins, we set out to catch our train. Jeanette got a head start while Eileen was exploring because the climb up the other side of the valley was going to be a bugger. When the rest of us got down to the river, Jeanette was nowhere to be seen. She wasn't resting in the shade. She wasn't visible climbing the opposite valley wall. I asked a school group that came along one of the trails that followed the river if they had seen her that way. No. I ran along the river trail the other way to see if she followed it. No sign. I was getting worried. Silas and I hurried up the slope all the way to the top. Finally, in the distance, through the trees, we could see Jeanette trucking along the trail. How she made it up that hill that quickly, I don't know. BBQ chicken pizza for dinner.

Tuesday was a celebration day. The kids skipped school and we all rode in a van lent to us by the Chrdlovi family to Česky Krumlov. This is a beautiful UNESCO World Heritage Site situated in the Vltava River valley tightly surrounded by hills. The striking castle sits on a bluff overlooking the river. After a (relatively) short hike up to the castle, we wandered about the gardens and took a tour of the complex. The pictures that follow are from that trip. That night the Tučkovi family had us all over for Šišky s makem (poppy seed covered potato dumplings).

Cesky Krumlov Castle from across Vltava. From 2010-04	At one of the gates. From 2010-04
The toweriest of all towers to the left, city to the right. From 2010-04	The city. From 2010-04

Wednesday was a rest day. Just kidding. This time we took the bus to Hluboka nad Vltava. This is a quaint city set in the Vltava River valley. On a bluff overlooking the city is the ornate Hluboka Castle. I glanced around for horse drawn carts, rickshaws, taxis, anything to ease the journey to the top. No luck, we walked. After a tour in Czech and a walk through the collection of medieval religious art and later Dutch paintings, we walked back down, greeting a horse pulling a cart up the steep slope. Dinner consisted of Turkish Red Lentil Soup with Naan Bread and a Banana Pudding Trifle.



What remains? Lots. But there's only time for a whirlwind tour of Prague (Old Town Square today, Prague Castle, the Jewish Quarter, and an Opera tomorrow). Kristine has been to Europe five times now, always the Czech Republic, no great desire to see the rest until she has exhausted the treasures here.

It's been a nice visit. The kids have enjoyed having their Grandma and Auntie. The ladies look no worse for the wear.

Peter

Eileen and Jeanette are Here

They're here. Eileen and Jeanette made it to the Czech Republic right on schedule - no Icelandic ash problems.

So far they have eaten almost every heavy Czech meal I can cook and have hiked many miles.

More details later. If you need to talk to them, you can find me on skype or peter.harff@gmail.com.

Peter

Jihlava Revisited

We made a trip to the city of Jihlava on Saturday and Sunday. You may recall from a previous post (way back in October) that Jihlava was where we had originally thought to move. Kristine and I each felt impressed instead that we should move to České Budejovice, but this visit reminded us why we had been attracted to this historic old town.

We took a train most of the way, with the last half hour of the journey on bus. This part of the country is called the Vysočina, the highlands, and a bus ride up and down the hills around Jihlava left us all feeling a little motion sickness. Kristine's ancestors are also from the Vysočina (farther north and east near Polička) so she gets a primal coming home sort of feeling in addition to the queasiness.

Our first stop was the Hotel Vittoria, where we would be staying. I have to put a plug in for them because it was a huge room (we all shared a two room suite) at a good price less than 20 meters from the main square and they gave us a bunch of pastries for free. If you're ever looking to stay in Jihlava, I'd recommend checking it out.

We met Riša and Pani Peškova (Pani mean missus, she's his mom) for a tour of the catacombs under the city. I don't have any pictures (you have to pay extra to take them - I should have). The total length of tunnels under the city is 25 km. There are three levels, the first are two to four meters below ground and were built in the 14th century. The second are four to six meters down and the third are 8-14 meters down, these were added in the 16th century. They are carved out of the native granite and gneiss, though some corridors were reinforced with brick during the 17th century and concrete was poured to reinforce much of it during the 1960's. The passageways are generally 2.5-8 feet wide and 4-11 feet high. They have gutters running down them to drain the water that continuously drips from the rock. The water is collected in pools. There are also accesses to water wells and ventilation shafts that reach ground level. Their purpose was originally to store beer, wine, and dry goods. Later, they were use as underground utility corridors and air raid shelters.

The tour only covers a very small portion of the catacombs, but it is interesting. They show the various levels, the old construction, some of the original water pipes (charred, hollowed out logs), and other neat things. The most mysterious is the shining corridor. When the lights are turned off and one's eyes adjust to the dark, it becomes apparent that the walls are glowing. Is it some sort of biological material? Is it phosphorus leached from the bones of monks buried in higher level chambers? It turns out that it is from zinc sulfite and barium in the mortar on the walls. It is believed that this was either applied while German soldiers occupied the catacombs during WWII as orientation lighting or was the result of experiments they were performing.

We left the catacombs and rode with Riša to Roštejn Castle. We climbed the tower (which is frankly scary as heck with a three year old in your arms on drastically steep wooden stairs-more like a ladder) and looked around the courtyard. Here are some pictures...

The entry gate. From Jihlava2	The tower (also notice how the castle is built right into the natural rock on the right side). From Jihlava2
The courtyard featuring the corner with the chapel. From Jihlava2	The wall from the outside. From Jihlava2

The next morning, I went for a walk along the city walls in Jihlava. These are really good old walls. I walked along the outside of a portion that overlooks a steep valley with a small river running at the bottom of it. This was remarkably beautiful. This picture is from a different part that runs along a main highway through town.

Then we went to church. The cool morning air was perfumed with the scent of pine from the surrounding hills. This was Kristine's favorite area on her mission and, after all these years, the affection she shares with people from the branch here is obvious.

Afterwards we had lunch with the Peškovi. Pani Peškova made a knedliky, zeli (cabbage) and a duck that just about brought tears to my eyes, it was sooooooo good. Hanka (the young woman with whom Riša is friendly) made some spectacular prune kolache and linzer torte (she's a nurse, but I believe her true calling is baking). While we were eating, an American,Mark, who splits his time between working in Iraq and living in the Czech Republic arrived. He rents from the family. So we all sat together, eating and telling stories. Then, he revealed a special treat...A&W Root Beer. You can't find root beer here (Mark says there is one place in Prague that carries it sometimes, but when word gets out to all the American expats living there that a new shipment is in, it sells out in hours) because Czechs hate it - they say it tastes like medicine (which, frankly, if you will hearken back to the old creosote-based cough syrups, it does taste medicinal).

Then, an old friend, Jarda Svoboda, picked us up and took us to his mother's place in a village outside of Jihlava. There we sat and talked with Jarda, his mother, and his sister while we snacked on, among other things, an Apple Strudel (capitalized out of respect) that was phenomenal (what a day). This was really nice. Jarda and his sister were among the first members of the church baptized in Jihlava back when the missionaries first came following the Velvet Revolution. It is, of course, bittersweet to see photos of the vibrant youth group from back then. Some of the faces are familiar, older now, with kids of their own. Others, for whatever reasons, have drifted away and you feel sad for them, knowing the peace the gospel brings. Anyway, two interesting tree stories. Jarda planted a peach tree in the garden. Peach trees don't grow in that part of the Czech Republic, but he is passionately determined to see this one become fruitful. Then, while we were on a walk, he pointed across some fields to a stately linden tree on the next hill just before the forest. He explained that his great, great grandfather sent all five of his sons to fight in WWI. When they all finally returned safely from the war ( the youngest son fighting in Russia took three years to get home after the war ended--all had assumed him dead), he planted the tree as thanks to God for preserving them.

Then we went back to Jihlava and met, briefly, with Riša's sister Daša and her two kids, Viktor and Katka (who are the same ages as Caleb and Lucy). They are super energetic people and great fun to chat with. Unfortunately, we got there late and missed seeing her husband Otakar.

 We had to leave in a hurry to catch our  train (filled with obnoxious teenagers headed back to Ceske Budejovice for the school week and some disgustingly drunk fellows who stumbled past us on their repeated trips to the bathroom). We spent about 29 hours in Jihlava, not nearly enough, and this was our last visit there this time around.

Oh folks, between parting from people for the last time and knowing that my days of walking along the Malše River are numbered, I'm starting to get a little emotional. It's great to know so many wonderful people here and to realize, that while we will miss them, we will soon be surrounded by wonderful people back in Minnesota.

-Peter