Bohemia: Prague in a Nutshell

After six months of being on the road I was taken in by a warm smile from home. Ronny had just moved to Prague to attend Med. School, and I, I was her free loading friend that jumped at the chance of a guided tour through one of Europe’s most beautiful cities. Prague is home to many artists such as Franz Kafka, author of, quite possibly one of the most painfully difficult books to get through, “Metamorphosis”. Although this novella consists of only three chapters, reading it in high school nearly led me to stab myself in the eyes with a fork if it meant I didn’t have to look at it ever again. But aside from its literary feats, Prague nurtures its musicians with a gentle hand.

On any given night, cafes, bars, and pubs alike erupt into a plethora of melodies, feeding the city’s many starving artists. But what most visitors to Prague don’t realize is the hidden city of Bohemia that thrives beneath the one caught on camera. Here the locals legally carry pot in their pants pocket, master quite possibly the hardest language in the world, and, of course, eat steaming plate after plate of roast pork and dumplings.
Before visiting the Czech Republic, I didn’t think there was any country in the world that loved potatoes more than Ireland: I was wrong. Czechs are the creators of some of the best and fattiest food I’ve ever tasted in my life. It was like the entire city put up this front of being cold, unsociable, and unfriendly just so they could save all the good stuff for themselves. Like that little old lady in the market line up practically burning a hole through the back of your head, was all because you grabbed the last ripe tomato.

On my first morning in Prague, I awoke to find the city covered in a light blanket of snow and was forced to bundle up tight before fighting my way out into the cold. Fuelled by our equal passion for fine architecture and even better food, Ronny and I took to the cobblestone. The air was fresh and the chilling sting against my skin reminded me of winters at home. Linked arm in arm we strolled down alleyways, crossed bridge after bridge, and spent the afternoon reminiscing about summers spent together. It was the strangest feeling talking with Ronny, my old friend that I felt I was re-introducing myself to. I was an ocean away from the life I’d put on hold and a million more miles from the person I knew I could be. But, for the weekend, I was home.

"Then I fell asleep with the strange feeling of wanting to be different from what I am or being different from what I want to be, or perhaps of behaving differently from what I am or want to be." -Anne Frank

Benny From Kilkenny: Couchsurfing unveiled

Taking the web world by storm is a new social networking sensation called Couchsurfing. It’s a website designed to connect travellers from around the world in one easy location. Here people can meet via profile interaction and through various online messages can arrange accommodation in either party’s home country. The nature of this site is as innocent as they come; travellers of all ages just looking to learn about a culture through its people.

Where do I sign up? Drawn by the appealing possibility of free accommodation and a local guide, I decided to give this web site a go. But soon I began to discover a kind of Pecking Order that naturally occurred amongst Couchsurfers. Each profile strived to be more “creative” and “interesting” than the previous and many of the members that I came across were looking for someone merely to brag to. Feeling a little in over my head, I timidly sent a message to a Welsh girl living nearby. I was shocked, to say the least, when I received a reply but was grateful when I finally did meet her to find that we had a little more in common that I expected.
Powered by my sudden luck, I stuck to Couchsurfing and sent out messages to people in the neighbouring villages. I began meeting other au pairs, exchange students, travellers, and even locals. Things were looking up. But surfers be warned; many profiles you find are descriptions of what the member thinks of themselves. Occupations such as: full-time dreamer, forever undecided, professional student, currently stickin’ it to the man, and many other rainbow coloured pieces of b-shit are sure to be found with each click of the mouse.

One memorable experience put me off Couchsurfing for a while; Benny from Kilkenny. Being a lady killer in his own mind, this “well-travelled” and “cultured” young man took life with a grain of salt, a slice of lemon, and a quick shot of tequila. After spending nearly 2 hours with this greasy haired monkey, I had mapped out every possible escape route in the pub and was debating a quick getaway.

This guy was absolutely hittin’ em out of the park with one liners like:

“I’m a lot like a cigarette, people just can’t get enough”.
“So you’re from Edmonton, EH? I hear that’s a shit hole.”
“I hate Irish people; they’re all drunks.”
“So… any plans for tonight?” (Insert wink here)
“Yeah, most people say I’m pretty cultured.”

But despite my little pessimistic beat-down of this online phenomenon, this was only one example of what you will find on Couchsurfing. So my advice to you is to re-read profiles, check each member’s references, and give it a whirl because like that box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gunna get.

Tinkering Gypsies

Whether they like it or not, every country is home to at least one distinct ethnic or racial group that takes the world by storm. These people shock and confuse the hell out of your average Joe and do so in a manner that dictates their definition. When investigating Ireland and Great Britain's cultural merchandise, the Travellers (or Tinkers as they are also known after their dealings with recycled scrap metal) are sure to pop up somewhere along the lines. Dating back to the 5th century, travelling gypsies began as nomadic groups that survived off the land. Today, over 2,400 travellers still roam the back country of Ireland and Great Britain.

Travellers are generally referred to in a negative context and have been classified as thieves, anti-social, uneducated, and well rounded con artists. Because of their nomadic behaviour, complaints have been raised about their choice of camp sites. Some of which have included and are not limited to private land, front lawns, alongside shorelines, and as some might put it, “where ever the hell they feel like it.” But for many travellers facing eviction comes on a regular basis and many families are left with no place to go. Although they have equal access to public funding and welfare, only 1% of Gypsies live to the age of 65, a shocking statistic to see in this day and age.

Now don't get me wrong, these people aren't walking around in brown paper bags and digging through trash cans. I can see where society's perception of this group may become hazy; driving around in caravans with no electricity doesn't really yell MacBook 2011, but travellers value their own traditions, place a heavy emphasis on religion and spiritual healing, and of course most Gypsy women support a Bend it Like Beckham closet. Currently in the UK, at a settlement called Dale Farm, hundreds of settled Travellers fight for the right to live in harmony and without discrimination from their neighbouring village of settled society.

But what we know about these people is strictly derived from our preconceived notions of them. Studies about their well being and way of life are inconclusive and true investigation will be hard to come by. Gypsies don’t cue for an interview and sure as hell won’t be cooperative if approached by a writer for The National Geographic. They live by the seat of their pants; speaking in their own tongue, neglecting society’s constant pressure to become literate, and of course refusing to integrate into "normal" society. The Tinkers now stand at the most discriminated against ethnic group in Ireland, a shocking truth that makes you question how far we've really come in the fight for equal rights.

Celtic Tiger: Financial Crisis

Between the late 90's and early into 2000, the Irish economy peaked. Ireland was transformed from one of Europe's poorest countries to one of its richest over night. People flocked from countries such as Romania and Poland to relish in the high minimum wage, low corporate tax, and social benefits. Contractors were in such high demand that a person could throw a tool box in the back of a truck and never go without work. But with steady incomes came the quick burning hole in each working man's back pocket. Banks were signing loans left right and centre, ignoring credibility and any inclination that this easy ride might come to an end.

But what had originally started as simple economic growth transformed into a unstoppable greed machine. Young couples barely settled took out loans and invested in multiple properties, hoping to make a decent amount of coin to coast off of. And it worked for a while. The housing demand in cities, vacation destinations, and even land itself went through the roof. And when the money became white hot in Ireland, investors stretched their hands from the pockets of their neighbours across the pond to The United States where thousands of hectares of land were purchased. Then in 2008 the American economy came to a stand still. The market took a turn for the worse and when banks began collecting their share of the borrowed cash, heads were lowered and pockets were turned out empty. No one had anticipated the downfall of one of the greatest economic feats Ireland had ever seen. As of 2010, unemployment rests at a whopping 14% alongside 10 years of non-regulated inflation. And now the money tree sits in the corner in a shriveled dry heap, if only to be forgotten until the tides of change turn once more.