I like to talk to strangers. As soon as I was old enough to understand that talking to a stranger required a certain amount of discretion (avoid the ones with shifty eyes), I did this and I liked it. I still like learning, getting a sense of a person. I love what these exchanges with strangers do for my poetry.
One evening in Prague we decided to try a wine bar called Vinograf, and we had a great conversation with the waitress.
I was only “touring” Prague, but I wanted to hear from a resident, soak up as much as I could. I wanted to know her opinion of what the city was like before, under communism, what she liked about it now, and what Slovakia is like, since everyone seems to focus on Czech Republic for vacations.
I asked her questions out of sincere curiosity, but I also wanted to hear her speak, because her voice was pretty. Yes, I am in love with the Czech language and the accent of Czech people when they speak English. Forgive my lack of knowledge of famous Czech people, but the only reference I have is this…her speaking voice had a similar timbre to Marketa Irglova’s, the singer from the movie, “Once.” Beautiful.
She said that under communism there were times when they didn’t have enough toilet paper. She also proudly stated that now, if you want to go to the opera in Prague, the best seats are reserved for the locals, not the politicians. Slovakia is where people go if they like winter sports like skiing. But her opinion was that the government hasn’t taken good enough care of the people, because some are living in poverty. She talked about music that she liked, and because Benjamin is always more knowledgeable about this than I am, he understood her. I commented that I loved how much music you can hear on the streets in Prague (reflections on the music at the end of this post). Her answer for this was beautiful. ‘Well,’ she shrugged, ‘of course.’ Then, she proceeded to list all the art and music schools in the city. Lovely Europe. Art and culture are givens; they are “of courses.”
Wine and cheese are also “of courses,” in Europe, and we sampled some lovely Czech varieties in Vinograf. Our waitress made great suggestions of tapas to have with our wine. We chose a dry white from Moravia, and she paired this with 3 cheeses, 3 spreads, bread, and olives. We had a hard parmesan that we drizzled with Czech honey, a softer cheese that we ate with white grape jam, and best of all, a walnut cheese dipped in grape seed oil. Delicious!!!
Along with wine, music is “of course” one of our favorite things. And in Prague musicians literally line the Charles Bridge, playing on it, under it, and in the streets around it. This is the bridge of the saints, a popular tourist area, and why wouldn’t the buskers take advantage of it? The portrait artists and jewelry makers sell their wares too, and of course, I admire their craft and skill, but Europe has been, most of all an auditory experience for me…so to the singers and players I nod my head with deepest respect. We listened to a blind woman playing piano as a younger woman sang perfect opera next to her. We heard a duet of violinists, who couldn’t have been more than teenagers, playing under one of the bridge’s arches. A man set up his keyboard in the middle of the old town square and played gorgeous classical music. At night, a trio of older gentlemen played a stand-up bass, violin, and accordion. They played a polka that I recognized from one of the many family parties we used to have in Wisconsin at the Knights of Columbus Hall. If my hip could have taken it, I would have danced right there.
This is how I will, of course, close this post…I could have danced right there.
