Feeling Like The Foreigner In The Czech Republic

This week I was just another foreigner traveling around in Europe. I started this blog (other than to assuage worries and satisfy the curiosity of my mother) to write about what it’s like to be The Foreigner. This was a day to day label when I was in China because, although it’s becoming more acquainted with the West and more and more non-Chinese are entering the country, it’s still a very closed nation that doesn’t get many foreigners. I felt at home in Hangzhou because I had my friends and my life there, and I speak the language, but I was still noticeably “The Foreigner”. I don’t feel that way in Paris, though. I’ve acclimated to my surroundings, I fit into the crowd (mostly), I speak the language here, and I’m far from the first American to settle in Paris.

This week, however, I was the traveling foreigner. I had a map in my pocket, my camera at the ready, and list of “must see” tourist attractions on hand. My friend Amie and I ran ourselves ragged all over Prague and Amsterdam, soaking up the sites.

The Czech Republic was the first country I’ve ever been where I don’t speak the language and many people don’t speak mine. Even in the city of Prague there were plenty of people who didn’t speak any English! Never in my life have I been so at a loss for communication. Since Amie and I only really needed to communicate on the basic levels—food, drink, toilet, “how much?”—we got by just fine. A lot of pointing, waving, and smiling got us through all the shops and restaurants where no one spoke English. I don’t want to give the impression that no one spoke English, though; many people speak it quite well and most can communicate the basics. I just wasn’t prepared for the ones that didn’t. By the end of my journey, though, I had acquired a bit of Czech vocabulary. It’s not much, but here goes:

Hey! = Ahoj (pronounced “Ahoy”, as though one were greeting a ship mate)
Hello = Dobry den (Dobry meaning good and Den meaning day)
Please = Prosím
Fried Cheese = smazeny syr (I’ll get to that later)

It wasn’t just the language that made more aware of my place as The Foreigner. This week was my 21st birthday: the last big benchmark birthday for an American youth. I thought 18 was pretty exciting—the right to vote and legal state of “adulthood” as seen by the US government all in one go. Yet, it’s odd that even as a legal adult in every other way, booze is still denied for three more birthdays in the states. I think I sort of cheated the system, though. Having spent a semester in China where getting drunk during a 5pm dinner isn’t weird and a month or so in France where wine is the beverage of choice starting around age 14, I became desensitized to the American celebration of the Big 21. In addition to all of that, I spent my actual birthday in Prague, a city where beer is cheaper per liter than any other beverage; it’s pretty much required that you drink beer. I learned a bit about Czech mentality from another Midd kid who is staying in Prague for the semester. After asking her host mother for some water the host mother replied: "Too much water rusts the stomach." Now this is certainly a foreign school of thought to me!

I’m far from complaining, though. On the contrary—I probably avoided a bar scene I didn’t want to have or saved from a vodka shot that a college kid would be expected to drink. I couldn’t have had a better week. I had fun with friends and saw incredible sites in good weather. And instead of a celebratory drink I had a celebratory crepe stuffed with vanilla ice cream, drizzled with rich chocolate fudge and surrounded by two puffy mounds of dense whipped cream. I’d take that over a shot any day.