There are practices vastly different here, such as the pleasantness of
people you sit with on a train. You will get a warm, “Dobrý den!” and when
you leave you’ll receive a “Na shlédanou!”. The brusqueness of the waiters
and waitresses is another change but my personal jury is still out on
whether the fake happiness of tip-motivated American waiters is better than
the genuine lack of caring.
The bilingualism of many people here is a marvel to me, uncomfortably
sheltered in my English speaking cage. They speak fluent Czech and when they
notice the lost look in my eyes, many can switch to English without a bat of
theirs. I draw comparison to the phrase, “Water everywhere, and not a drop
to drink”. There are people speaking around me, there are words everywhere,
but fail to comprehend. Luckily, or unluckily, people tend to look at me and
assume I speak English and they make the switch before I’ve even stumbled
through, “Dobrý den, jak se máš?”.
Every single building looks like a piece of art. The innate, intricate work
on every structure is at such odds with the sleek skyscrapers that I see in
cities like New York City. Even the residential streets on the outskirts of
Prague look like they were created by artists. There are fountains around
every corner and greenery like I’ve never seen in a city.
The Czech Republic is rather famous for not having the most tourist friendly
interactions. Having been to many of the tourist attractions in Prague, I
can hardly blame Czechs for not being our biggest fans. We swarm around
certain blocks, demand certain things, and have the gall to get annoyed when
these wishes are not fulfilled. We, the tourists, travel in large packs and
sometimes even on segues. We speak loudly and in the wrong languages and the
little bits of check Czech I can speak is sometimes more of an annoyance
than English.
We are tolerated, sometimes with smiles and sometimes with silent glares.
From being American to being of Indian ethnicity, there is a change in
temperature. My brown skin makes me stand out. I have frequently been asked
where I was from, and when I say the United States I get a frown and a
moment of silence before being asked, but where are you really from? These
questions stem from genuine curiosity and when I say, I’m of Indian origin,
I get a smile.
I believe my Indian heritage is not the problem; my brown skin is. The Roma,
a highly marginalized group in the Czech Republic have a similar skin color.
They face senseless open discrimination, whether in housing situations or
the funneling of Romani students in schools designated for students with
learning disabilities. They are stereotyped as thieves and criminals and a
feature used to identify and discriminate against them is their skin color.
On the tram, or metro, I will be stared at with anything from curiosity to
open disdain. Most of these people will look away after they overhear me
speaking English in my very obviously American accent. Some, who don’t, will
continue to stare and murmur to their colleagues and it is then that I most
wish I spoke Czech. It is to be noted that the vast majority of these
strange looks are not from the younger generation. However, from the people
I have met and worked with, people of all ages, I’ve received nothing but
cordiality and kindness.
Being a foreigner in the Czech Republic is undoubtedly a curious thing. But
more than that, it is a joy to see such a beautiful and storied city. It is
a privilege to learn the little words I can and to work with the wonderful
people I do. And it is truly an honor to get to call Prague my home for six
weeks.
Prarthna Johri is a student at Lehigh University in Bethlehem, PA, USA,
who is an intern at ROMEA.
