i'm in love with a city

I'M IN PRAGUE.

Now, originally I was going to start My First Study Abroad Blog Post talking about the moment I fell in love with the city. Or, in other words, the moment my cab from the airport hit the top of a hill (after a few miles of nothing but normal-looking trees and flat road), and I saw the entire, fairy tale city spread out in front of me, the red roofs, the spires, and all. And I was in awe. There is no other word to describe it. The image of Cinderella's town at the very beginning of the movie comes to mind (the old-school version, where they used to show an overview of the "town" and then zoom in on a particular area as they began the narration), thanks to the dominance of the Prague Castle. I mentally played cheerleader to my taxi driver (...who did not speak English) by, given my generally decent sense of direction, I would think, "Please turn right, please turn right. ...YESSSS! Go left! Go left! ...SCORE!" in order to somehow -- through mental willpower -- make my dorm building end up in the center of the city.

But instead of all that, I'm going to focus on the moment I first really interacted with a Prague local.

So it turns out that not only is my dorm pretty near the center of town, but I'm also on the fifth (read: TOP) floor of my dorm, which means I have a great view, but that my thighs are going to get a killer workout in the upcoming four months. That also means that after unpacking, trying to figure out how to use the Internet/phone, laughing with the girl living across from me about how we both are now super inspired to visit Greece thanks to Mama Mia! and The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 (don't judge us), I was about to faint from hunger. Literally! So, since Lilly (the girl living across the hall) was taking a nap, I decided to venture out on my own (this is big, you guys) to find lunch.

My map was totally incomprehensible (it was all in Czech!), so I walked out, turned left and headed straight, as per some general directions a girl downstairs had told me to take to get to an area of cafes/restaurants. I walk down the adorable cobblestone alley and see this cute little shop with a sign that says "Sandwiches." It looked cute, so I open the door and am about to go inside when I hear a man's voice yelling Czech at me.

Oh no.

Well, after I worriedly go, "Sorry?" he informs me that the place is closed. Relieved that I wasn't breaking some previously unknown intrusion law and totally despaired over how I was going to find food, I ask if there was another place nearby where I could get a bite to eat, he asks me what I wanted, and when I say I just want a sandwich or something, anything, he goes, in the classic way that only a Central European can say it:

"...I could give you a sandwich."

I probably could've kissed him right then. So he unlocked the cafe, went down into the kitchen, and I waited outside by the road for my free lunch.

Well, turns out, there were no more pre-made sandwiches downstairs since it was the weekend, and the place apparently didn't get that much business. The feeling of doom comes over my entire body, until all of a sudden I hear Czech Guy go, "I can make you a sandwich. If you're not scared, you can come to the kitchen."

What? "Should I be scared?" I ask.

"Well, no. Well, you'll see."

And that's when I break the first rule of How Not To Get Screwed While In A Foreign Country; and I told him that it was my first day in the city. "In that case," he goes, "we're making you a sandwich."

I walk downstairs with him into the kitchen and survey that it's 1) pretty clean, with the ingredients all packed away, but also 2) that the ingredients did not have any labels on them to tell me what they were or when they expired. Czech Guy started poking at the bread to see if they were good or not, and when I asked about their status, he said he wasn't really sure since it was Bio Bread.

What the fuck is Bio Bread?

Well, he didn't know how to describe it in English, but basically he just said that it was "really healthy," so I figured it was probably organic or whole wheat or something like that. I poke at it to see what it feels like, and it's rock hard. I'm crushed, until I realize that: THIS IS PRAGUE! THIS IS ONLY THE FIRST RESTAURANT I'VE SEEN! I'll just go down the street to look for another cafe!

And thankfully, I found one with outdoor seating.

just being utilitarian

I suppose everyone has to starve at some point in their life.

And my time is definitely now.

After what I can only describe as a painfully frustrating last dinner at home before I fly out tomorrow morning, I got my budget laid out for me for my upcoming semester abroad. And as everyone knows, the beauty of living life free of food points is that the money allotted for food no longer necessarily needs to go towards food. Granted, this is also a major policy problem when applied to larger government projects, but in the case of little ol' me, life sans a meal plan has taught me one great fact of my life:

I'm willing to starve for cute clothes and trips to faraway places.

I mean, it builds character, right? Didn't we learn in economics that consumers should maximize their utility per dollar spent? I'm just being efficient here.

what happens at the resort stays at the resort

“They scream, they sing, they fall down, they take their clothes off, they cross-dress, they vomit,” Malia’s mayor, Konstantinos Lagoudakis, said in an interview. “It is only the British people — not the Germans or the French.”

- "Some Britons Too Unruly for Resorts in Europe" (NYTimes)

I wonder what do they think about American college students.

i hate feeling like all i'm doing is waiting

It's so strange being home right now, during the down time between Vietnam and Prague. I feel like all I'm doing is watching the clock tick until I'm on that plane Bohemia-bound and my life can start again. Granted, I should be packing, but that's a whole other issue to talk about (though really, all I have to say is a big fuck you to check-in luggage weight limits).

In the meantime, it makes me sad getting all the welcome-back emails from Duke administrators (...and sorority exec board members), having to RSVP "Not Attending" to all the random Facebook invites to welcome-back parties at all-too-familiar venues (venues whose names I can actually pronounce!), having to hear about Shooters stories over the phone instead of during the obligatory 3 am McDonald's run or the standard Sunday morning froyo binge, and knowing that everyone starts school again tomorrow. The Sanford Institute seems like a world away, and I can't believe that it'll be January before I return to that maze of a building. I can only hope Roger, the guy who works at the Sanford Deli, will still remember my name and the way I like my French Connection wrap.

In a weird way it's like I'm regressing back to the summer before freshman year, with all the same anxieties over how I'm going to do laundry, or try to cook (let's face it, knowing me, I'll probably just end up eating out every night and/or living off of cereal and granola bars), or who my roommate is going to be (though to some extent, I'm kind of glad we don't find out who our roommates are before we land in Prague because that saves me from awkward introductions over Facebook and phone calls spent trying to talk about sleeping/eating/studying/partying habits -- first impressions just really need to be made in person). At least this time I'll be in one of the greatest cities in the world instead of Durham, North Carolina (which, granted, definitely has its own unique charm, but it still just doesn't even come close).

a turning point

My iPod is officially too small for my iTunes.