CHAPTER 11 - A Week Of Snow And No English
I awoke to the stench of damp, soiled socks drying on the radiator by my head. Jarda and Robert were sleeping soundly in the beds next to me, still wrapped in their coats and scarves seeing as the footwear-clad heating system had yet to reach maximum output. I stepped outside into the hallway in search of a toilet and the others. I soon located the bathroom but no sign of Pavel, Honza, or Tonda. I found my way back to Jarda’s rhythmic snores, changed my pair of wet socks with the only other pair I had brought with me, placed the worn ones alongside the others dangling by the window, and went to the TV room which also doubled as a makeshift reception.
"Excuse me, have you seen my friends? Three boys. We checked in earlier today," I directed to the gray-haired woman sitting opposite the television. She was watching the A-Team. Mr. T’s Czech didn’t seem to surprise me that much anymore.
Nothing but a blank stare through her thick glasses and a drag on her cigarette.
"I’m sorry. My friends?" I paused. "Do you speak English? Mluvíte anglicky?"
She slowly shook her head. Once to the left, then to the right, and gradually back, "Ne."
"Shit. Umm... Muj kamarade? Tři kamarade?"
She took another drag and smiled amiably. What followed was a long, drawn out answer in Czech of which I only understood one word. Hospoda. Pub.
"Dekuju," I thanked her, walked down the stairs while buttoning up my jackets, and found my way outdoors.
Although the sun was now setting and white powdered clouds blanketed the sky, the reflective snow-covered landscape still managed to blind me momentarily. To the one side, towards the lake, the only thing I could see for miles was pure, bright whiteness fading into a light gray mist and interrupted only occasionally by a few green branches that had somehow succeeded in shaking off a bit of the snow. The village of Horní Planá lay in the other direction. I could see a blue-green bronze spired dome piercing the pale haze. It was the top of the village’s medieval meeting hall and only a few minutes away. I upturned my collar, pulled it closer to my neck and headed towards it and into the snowfall. I passed a bakery, a small greengrocers, and soon found myself standing in the village’s central square, underneath the watchful eye of the snow-caked meeting hall’s clock. It was five o’clock. It seemed like a rather small village, so I decided to wander around the square in search of a pub, where the others would most likely be, and, although not likely but still worth a look, a signpost that clearly indicated I was indeed strolling around Horny Plaza.
I took a few steps and noticed "Hospoda" gazing directly at me. An old wooden placard. But rather than stop my search short, I decided to go on. I needed proof. How could I tell others I had been to Horny Plaza and seen it in all its glory if I wasn’t absolutely sure myself that this was it?
Then I saw it. In the distance and posted on a building opposite the square. A large "H". I went closer. "o". Then it was clear. "Hospoda". Another pub... Less than fifty feet from the first one and here was a second. I figured I could search both five minutes later. After I had circled the square and satisfied my curiosity.
The sun had completely set by then and it was now a bit darker than when I had first stepped outdoors. The snow, still falling as hard as ever, wouldn’t give. But now I was sure. I had rounded the corner and at the top saw another sign. This one was smaller and more modest, exactly opposite the meeting hall and square itself. As I took a few steps, it became clear and I couldn’t help but chuckle. "Hospoda".
In the end, I found five pubs lining the square and no indication of its name. A brisk five minute walk around the village’s hub had revealed five Hospodas (all open for business), a small greengrocers and a bakery (both closed). This may not have been Horny Plaza, but I had definitely stumbled upon something. Reflections, however, could wait. I was getting cold and hungry and needed to find the others.
Searching five pubs would take quite a while so I decided to just glance through the windows and see if I could spot them. Fortunately, Pavel saw me looking inside one of them a few minutes later and came out to get me. They were sitting next to the fireplace (thank God for my frozen toes and fingers) with two attractive girls. I joined them and introduced myself. Jarka, a tall brunette with short hair, stunning blue eyes, and a shy smile, was sitting with Tonda on one side of the table. Pavel again took his seat by Eva, a blonde with a single streak of pink running down the right side of her blonde hair, cream-white skin, and a low cut shirt that revealed her cavernous cleavage each time she leaned over. I sat next to Honza. He smiled at me and unveiled a chipped front tooth I hadn’t noticed before.
I asked Pavel what to order seeing as I hadn’t really eaten all day. He recommended the beer. Large. Tonda, however, had just finished a plate of fried cheese with roast potatoes and seemed quite pleased with it. I ordered both. By the time my food and drink arrived, the others had already dug themselves deep into their resumed conversation. Jarka kept smiling at everyone, hardly making a sound except for the laughter following either Tonda’s or Pavel’s remarks. Pavel seemed to be concentrating all of his attention on Eva (Who could blame him?) and Tonda would throw in what I could only assume was a witty remark after every few drinks and drags. Half comatose and half on his chair, Honza was the most drunk and the least talkative – except for shy Jarka of course. As I finished the last if my potatoes and signaled to others how good my meal had been by patting my stomach, Honza once again turned to me, smiled, and revealed that elusive tooth.
That’s another thing I should mention about Czechs. This may be a generalization and there are always exceptions, but, on the whole, the Czechs can handle their liquor. I can’t remember once throughout my stay in their country when two fellow nationals actually fell into fisticuffs over something as trivial as having one drink too many. How many times throughout my travels have I seen drunken Brits, Germans, Russians, etc. get into bare-knuckle brouhahas as a result of long nights and stiff drinks? But not the Czechs. I always felt safe riding the night tram home in Prague, even though it may have been in the dodgiest part of town at some godforsaken hour. Filled to the brim with drunken misfits of all sorts – vagabonds, skinheads, college students, winos, businessmen, English teachers – and all of them collapsed onto their respective seats, heads leaning against the windows and eyes closed as if they were dead. That is, until they reach each of their respective stops and, if they’re lucky, miraculously re-animate. If it wasn’t for the tourists also riding on most of those night trams, it would be as silent as a broken radio... you’re always waiting for something to come out of the speakers but nothing ever does. As I’ve said, I’m sure there are exceptions. The boorish, overbearing individuals that exist in every society. But I never saw them and, after all, how many of them can there be in the country that coined the "Velvet" Revolution? The Czechs truly understand that spirits are, in fact, meant to lift yours and not sink others’.
A few beers and fewer hours later, Robert and Jarda called Pavel on his mobile. We would be meeting them in an hour or so at a local dance club. Apparently, it was also located off of my phantom Horny Plaza but I had missed it during my earlier pub count of five. By that time, I was ready for a change. Jarka and Tonda were now exclusively speaking with each other. Honza, speaking incoherently in Czech to me earlier, was currently speaking incoherently in Czech to the others as they ignored him. So, basically, I was stuck in a three-way conversation between two people, Pavel and Eva. Eva’s English was a notch or two below Pavel’s which meant any dialogue on my part was completely out of the question. In the end, I simply sat there, drinking my way into the drunken state I had achieved earlier that morning, feigning interest in Eva’s occasional English questions, while trying to catch a glimpse of her creamy breasts each time she leaned towards the table and grabbed hold of her beer glass.
We reached the club, which looked more like someone’s small winter cabin doubling as a club, and found Robert and Jarda standing at the makeshift bar. They nazdravíed each other, downed a shot, slammed the empty glass on the counter and turned around, startled to see us. The club was much more crowded than the smoke-filled pub we had just left. It was teeming with teenagers, post-teens, and middle-aged men gawking at them from behind their drinks. Eventually, we just ended up standing near one of the dance-floor’s corners, clutching our cold half liter glasses of beer, while Honza and I tried to keep our balance by leaning against the wall. Honza soon couldn’t take it any longer and went to sit at a half-empty table. Robert and Jarda went dancing (if it could be called that) with some girls that had caught their eyes, and I was, again, stuck with Pavel and Eva.
"You like Horní Planá?" Eva asked as she seductively pushed some hair out of her face and placed it behind her ear. I caught a whiff of some bad BO and realized that it must have been that belch I had just released under my breath.
"Yeah. It’s nice." I wanted another cigarette but knew I might vomit if I smoked one. My Achilles heel.
"Yes. And peoples here holiday now," she continued.
"Yeah," I let out, trying to subdue what seemed to be approaching hiccups. As I momentarily turned, I glanced towards Honza and saw him sleeping, head in arms, on the table. I turned back to Eva, "Say, where’s ya friend Jarka?" I paused. "And Tonda for that fact?"
Eva smiled at me and looked at Pavel.
Pavel winked at me and started speaking with Eva in Czech again.
I soon grew bored, standing there like the third wheel on a bicycle, and went to sit down at the only empty seat in the cabin/club – next to Honza. The following day, I didn’t remember falling asleep there on the table next to Honza. I didn’t remember continually smacking Eva’s ass as we left the club and walked her home. I did remember falling face first into the snow a few times. But I also didn’t remember barging in on Tonda and Jarka having sex back at the pension, collapsing on my bed, and starting to snore as Pavel, Honza, Robert, and Jarda crammed themselves into the other bedroom in order not to disturb the busy couple. Apparently, a few minutes later, Tonda and Jarka weren’t that disturbed anymore and soon forgot about the drunk American sound asleep in the bed next to them while finishing what they had started earlier that night.
I woke up the next morning, wrapped in my blanket and alone with a sleeping Tonda in the room. Jarka had left during the night. I had a headache and the previous day, at best, was a loosely reconstructed haze. My entire stay in Horní Planá followed that same disoriented pattern, as hindsight would later reveal. As I lay there in the warmth of my bed, curled next to the radiator, I tried to fall asleep once again. But my impatient bladder wouldn’t let me and I was soon stumbling through the hall towards the toilet. On my way back, I could hear some talking in the next room so I decided to drop in on the other guys.
"Hey! Paul!" Pavel exclaimed as I opened the door.
"Sit here!" he sat up in his bed and patted the now empty space beside him, "...but only if your ass no hurt from fucking Tonda!"
"What?"
First, Pavel translated what he had said into Czech, garnered some laughs, and then proceeded to tell me all that had happened the night before.
"Tonda’s cock was nothing. You should’ve seen the size of the cucumber he used!" I joked in order to cover up my embarrassment. None of them understood my humor, let alone my use of the English language. Pavel asked me what a cucumber was. "Never mind. Say, do we have any food? I’m starving. Mam hlad. Mame jidlo?"
Robert said something to a half-awake Honza, whose bed was besides the only cabinet in the room. Honza opened the furniture’s door while still under the blanket and took out some beers. He passed them around one at a time.
"Shit man. I said I’m hungry. Mam hlad. What is this? Beer already?"
Pavel let out a hearty laugh and the others soon chimed in as well. "This is food! Is liquid bread!"
Pavel, Robert, and Honza popped open their bottles, nazdravíed each other, and took their first swigs of the day. Jarda and I left them unopened on the floor, unable to stomach more booze so early in the morning and following the previous day’s binge. I took some of the bread which I could now see in the cabinet and went nextdoor to get some of that sun-dried tomato cream cheese I had bought before we left Prague. I returned with my mouth half-full. Everyone’s beer was already half-empty. After I had finished eating, I joined in and popped open my first beer of the day as well. There’s nothing better for a hangover, I justified to myself, than a beer in the morning. Jarda and Tonda, who had by now woken up and wandered into the room, soon joined in the festivities as well.
Within moments, they were all yelling, laughing, and throwing beer caps, shoes, and potato salad at each other. As I tried to dodge these objects, I smiled and laughed along with the others, unsure of why I was doing it but knowing to join in whenever they did. I had no idea what they were saying, but it didn’t really seem to matter. They were just like me. Just like every young adult. Ready to take on the world but unable to do it. All that built up energy and youthful drive but with no available outlet. They were releasing it the only way they could. The only way they knew. The only way most of us know. Through revelry and comradery. Or, perhaps, I was pulling all of it out of my ass. They were just trying to get piss drunk and I wanted to join in. An hour or so later, the alcohol ran out and the room stunk of potato-laden mayonnaise. It was time to take the party elsewhere.
We ended up at the same pub lining pseudo Horny Plaza that we had visited the day before. It was noon and the place was already filled with a healthy cross-section of locals and visitors all looking for an escape from the cold and sobriety. We ordered six beers and sat down in the smoky midst of the male-dominated clientele. Jarka and Petra eventually joined us. Basically, we just sat there until the sunset – drinking, smoking, and ordering the occasional goulash. In fact, that’s how we spent most of our days in Horní Planá. We got to know the waiter, barman, and local alcoholics all by first name. We even helped one of them, Radek, stumble home to his enraged wife. He thanked us, proceeded to collapse onto the living room floor while his wife continued yelling from the couch, and promptly fell asleep. But that was a day or two later.
That night, after we were all successfully intoxicated but still sound in mind* (* It’s amazing how quickly you can build up a tolerance when you’re completely immersed in the country with the highest per capita alcohol consumption in the world. After two months in the Czech Republic, in my case, I had gone from barely being able to drink three or four pints of beer without falling asleep in my seat to drinking for more than a quarter of a day before starting to feel any alcoholic effect. I had become a Czech who couldn’t speak Czech!), we decided to take Eva’s advice and visit a local sports bar. The place was nice enough with two big-screen projection televisions, large comfortable sofa-seating, and a young friendly staff. Before long, Tonda left with Jarka for her house and the rest of us remained with Eva. Pavel, as he had done the night before, was concentrating all of his efforts on her. He eventually leaned over, right there in front of all of us, and began kissing her. After they had finished, she didn’t seem too interested in continuing what he had started and actually began to talk to me. Pavel didn’t mind at all though. He just kept drinking with the others and cracking jokes.
Eva didn’t really have anything that interesting to say – well, maybe she did but I couldn’t understand her – but I kept feigning interest in the hope that she would remain by my side. Hell, maybe I’d even get lucky. Eventually though, I noticed it. That same BO from the day before which I had thought was due to an alcohol induced belch was actually coming from Eva! I couldn’t really say that it was a "European" thing, as the stereotype goes, because throughout all of my encounters with European women I had never experienced it. But it was definitely an Eva thing. So I did the only logical thing. I put it out of my mind. She was too pretty and exotic to be bothered with something as trivial as deodorant I supposed. And I was too drunk and nadržený.
Some time later, my bladder took me to the bathroom and, on my way back to the table where we were seated, I noticed that Eva was no longer there but was now leaning against a pool table where some of her local friends were playing. I walked up to her. As we stood there talking, one thing led to another and, sure enough, our lips were soon locked as my hands fondled her firm ass. We finished. She licked her lips seductively. I caught a glimpse of Pavel back at the table. He was staring at us with a blank look on his face. I told Eva I’d be right back and went to the table expecting the worse.
"Hey Pavel. Listen. I’m sorry about that. I mean I know you’ve been..."
"She is nice kisser, yes?" he interrupted.
I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to say. "Well... Yes."
"Ha ha ha!" Pavel laughed and patted me amiably on the back. "You are good man! Like me! Likes beers and womans. Like me!!" He laughed away and continued talking with the others, a hundred percent true to his calm Czech composure.
I returned to Eva and we resumed talking. She didn’t seem that interested anymore though. She acknowledged me every now and then, would occasionally rub seductively against me, ‘accidentally’ of course, and continued her conversation with her friends as if I weren’t there. By the time the night had run its course, I found myself stumbling back home to the pension with Jarda, Robert, and Honza (Pavel had left an hour earlier with Eva). The four of us fell asleep in the same bedroom seeing as the one next door was locked and pulsating with ecstatic moans.
"What the hell happened last night?" I asked Pavel as he pulled up a seat and joined the rest of us for an early afternoon beer at the pub. "One second I was with Eva and the next – BAMM! – she disappears with you."
He winked at us, leaned back into his seat, and released "Řepy magic!" from his smiling lips. The others broke out into laughter instantaneously. He then proceeded to tell me the previous night’s, and that morning’s, events, pausing every now and then to translate for the others.
"So, Eva come for me at bar table after finish wif you and start to talking. I am very relax but I am see she wants Řepy magic! I am see in her eye she VERY... how do you say... HORNY!"
"Yeah, yeah. Horny."
"Yes! So I start touch and kiss her on... what is this?" he pointed to his neck.
"Neck."
"Yes! Neck. She can no to say no to me. Very horny, Paul. And Řepy magic! So I say in her ears ‘Later we go to pension.’ She say ‘No.’ I say ‘Why?’ And she say ‘No later – NOW!’" He broke into laughter, translated, and the others joined in.
"So we go to pension, but you is very drunk so no goodbye. We go into room and shes sit on bed. I close the door. Wait. Okay, she sits on bed – all normal. Clothes. All. I turn close the door and see again Eva. And no clothes! Is very funny!"
"Wait, wait. So she’s sitting on the bed, doing nothing, just sitting there. You turn around to lock the door and when you turn around again, she’s completely naked?! Where?"
"Yes! There on the bed. Did no move! But only five seconds and clothes is – POOF!"
"Disappeared."
"Yes. One second on bed, normal. Next is on bed, same the position, but disappeared clothes."
"In-fucking-credible."
"No, is Řepy magic," as the others laughed once again.
"And then what?" I broke in.
"And then what? And then what! We have fucking all night! Very horny, Paul. She very horny! All night. More, more, more! Give me more, she say. More, more, more!"
"So what did you do?"
"I give her more! In end, we bof, very... tired?"
"Yeah. Exhausted."
"Yes this. Exhausted and just go to sleep."
"Fucking real. You lucky son of a bitch."
"Yes," Pavel leaned back into his chair and took a long, drawn out sip, downing about a quarter of the beer in his glass. "But is not end. Best is this morning!" He then began telling a story in Czech to the others. He used his hands, started gyrating his hips, and finished it all a few minutes later with a wide-eyed expression. The others went wild.
"What? What? What happened?" I interrupted.
"Ha ha! So, well, we waking this morning and I turn my head and look Eva. She look me too, no sleeping. ‘You want fucking?’ she say. I very tired but, okay, Řepy magic is Řepy magic!"
"I can bet."
"Yes, of course. In bed."
"No, no. Bet. I can bet."
"Yes! In bed!"
"No. Well, just forget it. Then what happened?"
"So, we fucking, but next to window. I say get from behind so she get like this..." Pavel stood up from his chair and leaned over the table. "How you say fucking like this? Like horse?"
"Ha ha. Not a horse. Dog. Doggy style it’s called in English."
"Yes, doggy still. So we fucking doggy still. I am tired also so some sleeping. But I look out window and see beautiful water of Horní Planá."
"The lake?"
"Yes! Is very beautiful. We in Horní Planá free days but no see lake! Only beers. So I see now and is very beautiful. Snows. Trees. Natures. It very nice. And I ask Eva ‘This is Horní Planá natures? Very beautiful.’ She turn wif head and look out the window too. ‘Yes, yes. Very beautiful.’ she say. So I look for one, two minutes. Very beautiful!"
"Yeah, this is a nice place. I saw it the other day when I was walking around. The lake is breathtaking."
"Yes! So then Eva say ‘Um, Pavel... You forget somefing?’ because I stop fucking when look out window! Fucking, fucking, fucking... Stop. ‘This Horní Planá? Beautiful!’ ... ‘Um, Pavel. Please fucking me.’ ‘Oh, sorry,’ and I fucking again all morning. Ha ha! I stop fucking, just stand wif penis in Eva, and looking at natures. Fucking situlation! ‘Umm, Pavel. Please fucking me!’"
"Situation," as I tried to contain the laughter.
"Yes!" He lifted his glass and nazdravíed us all. The conquering knight who had – temporarily – been distracted from riding his horse.
"Nazdraví, Pavel. Nazdraví..."
Nothing out of the ordinary happened that evening. We decided to take it easy in preparation for the next day – New Year’s Eve. We stayed at the same bar, drank until the sun went down, and were eventually joined by Eva and Jarka. A couple of hours later we went back to our beds, except for Pavel and Tonda who had other beds in different parts of town waiting for them.
The two of them woke us up late the next morning as they barged into the bedroom, popped open the first beer of the day, and nazdravíed us all a happy Silvestr (New Year’s holiday). By this time, my fourth day in Horní Planá, I was growing extremely tired of the continuous party atmosphere. It was too much. Drinking all day and night until we could do nothing else but sleep. Then waking up the next day in order to repeat the whole thing over again. It was time for the Dum, and simple, quiet Dan. I comforted myself in the thought that I only had to hold out twenty-four more hours. By the next afternoon, I would be heading back to Prague. One more day – but what a day it turned out to be.
About an hour after we had woken up, we were all sitting around in the bedroom eating our breakfast rolls with potato salad and beer when a furious knock came at the door. It was the owner of the cottage and she had come bearing complaints. The others went outside to talk to her. Apparently, on our second day there, a family that had been staying down the hall from us complained about the noise and asked to be moved to the ground floor. She obliged and didn’t bother to tell us. Why ruin our fun? Boys will be boys, she reasoned. But that morning, two other families complained and asked to be moved as well. Our floor was now completely empty except for a lone Austrian who was staying at the other end of the hall. She told us that she had had enough. We had to leave. We were driving all her clientele away. Eventually, Pavel and the others convinced her to let us stay just one more night. After all, it was Silvestr. Reluctantly, she agreed but stipulated that one more complaint and that would be it – we would have to go. They thanked her with as many ‘Děkuju’s as they could and I topped it off with a ‘Thank You’.
Just as the owner was about to leave, she peeked into the room and, as Pavel later told me, burst out, "What the hell are those stains on the wall?! It smells like potato salad in here!"
Pavel quickly put his arm gently around her and guided her back outside into the hall as the others rushed to close the door behind him. I asked him if there was a problem but he said that she had only threatened to withhold our room deposits if there was any damage. He didn’t seem worried.
"Same fing happen every years. This happen last years too," as he reached for another bottle of beer and popped it open. "But now... We have small problem."
"What?" I replied. "The potato salad stains on the walls or the puke and piss outside the window?"
"The Austria man," he paused and thought intently. "Come, we go see him."
All six of us made our way to the end of the hall and knocked on the door. A man in his mid-forties with small, round glasses and disheveled graying hair opened the door.
"Guten Morgen."
Pavel spoke to him in Czech, but nothing. He tried his broken English. Again nothing. Fortunately, Jarda spoke some German. He asked the Austrian if he wanted a drink and some company. The lonely man jumped at the offer and invited us all into his room. It was a bit smaller than either of ours and had bottles of beer and liquor strewn about the floor.
Pavel nudged me with his shoulder and pointed at the empty bottles, "This is good man. We have no problems."
We sat there for the rest of the morning and better part of the afternoon talking (in Czech, German, and English), drinking, and smoking. Günther – the Austrian – had apparently been living at the pension for the past two weeks. His wife had taken the children and left him for another man about a month before that. For a while, he tried to keep his job and pay his bills, continuing life as if everything were still normal and his wife and kids would simply return one day. After a few weeks of that, he just said fuck it and decided to cross the border for a land with cheaper booze and slimmer women. That would be Step One of his elaborate plan, he told us, to create a new life: leave Austria and go to the Czech Republic. When we pressed him as to what Step Two was, he told us he hadn’t really thought that far ahead. He had gotten a bit sidetracked here in Horní Planá – the first Czech town he happened to drive through. He laughed it off, took a swig of brandy, and passed it around.
At about five or so, we all agreed that it was time to go out. All the beer and booze we had bought the day before at the supermarket was done and all the markets were closed for the holiday. We asked Günther if he wanted to join us and he gladly accepted. Soon, our motley group of seven was trudging through the snow, heading towards our familiar watering hole. We stayed there for a beer or two, waited for the girls to arrive, and then got ready to head out for the sports bar where we would be spending the rest of the night. We wished the barman and locals a happy Silvestr and were off.
Once we got there, Günther seemed to get a second wind (he had been practically sleeping while sitting at the Hospoda) and bought us all a shot of rum and kept doing so all through the night. I guess he was just happy to be with someone, even if no one really understood him. We played billiards, darts, and fussball and soon started socializing with the other people who had also decided to mark the changing of 2001 into 2002 by getting piss drunk at a sports bar in a small village near the Czech-Austrian border. Surprisingly, there were many of them... of us. As the midnight hour neared, bottles of Bohemian Sekt sparkling wine were placed on the tables, the TV was turned on to a live broadcast of Prague’s Old Town Square and its gorgeous clock tower, and Günther bought yet another round of shots. We all nazdravíed each other, downed the alcohol, and waited for the clock’s two hands to meet at twelve.
"Čtyři! ... Tři! ... Dva! ... Jedna! Šťastný Nový Rok!" came from the television as we all popped the cork out of our moderately priced sparkling wine bottles. We hugged, kissed, and nazdravíed each other once again while drinking from our plastic champagne glasses. Soon, we found ourselves outside admiring and mocking the mediocre village fireworks display.
"Happy New Year’s Paul!" Pavel yelled as we stood in the cold. "How is English New Year’s song?"
"Oh, you mean Auld Lang Syne. Shit, I have no idea. I don’t think anyone really knows the words. They’re usually just slurred together when you’re drunk."
"Sing! Sing! Sing!" he urged on and soon got the others to follow his lead. They all started chanting as the pathetic fireworks went up, one by one.
"OK. Okay. Um... Let a-a-all regrettance be-e-e forgot, and ne-e-ever said again! Let o-o-old acquaintance ne-e-ever end, and the-e-ere’s the Auld Lang Syne! Da da-a-a, da da, the ga-a-ang’s all here, I’m gla-a-ad that we all met! But o-o-one-for-all and a-a-all-for-one, I’m su-u-re we won’t forget!!" I sang as loudly as I could.
The others gathered round, clapping and whistling enthusiastically. "Yes! Yes! That is song! Good English song. Ba ba-a-a, ba ba..." Pavel started mouthing the Auld Land Sane rhythm. When he was done, "What does mean, Paul?"
"What? The lyrics?"
"Yes."
"Um, well, let’s see. It’s about friends and stuff. You know, they really get along. And now that it’s a New Year, they hope that they’ll continue... well, getting along."
"Yes. Is beautiful." Pavel started humming the rhythm again. Suddenly, a snowball smacked him right in the face. Honza smiled, revealing that chipped tooth of his. I ducked down as flying balls of ice instantaneously appeared everywhere I looked. By the time we had finished with our childish game, we were all exhausted and ready to head back into the sports bar for more drunken revelry.
We had barely returned to our seats when Günther, yet again, placed another round of freshly poured shot glasses filled with a greenish liquid on the table. Pavel followed him with two of the same tiny glasses, but filled with a brownish liquid, in his hands. He smacked one down in front of Robert, lifted his in the air in preparation for a "Nazdraví", and waited for Robert to join. Robert, smiling and starting to blush after Pavel had said a few words, stood up, clinked his glass (filled with rum, one of Robert’s favorites) with Pavel’s, and made the alcohol disappear in one go. He then lifted the shot Günther had bought for him, urged us all to lift ours, said something in Czech, and downed that one as well just like the rest of us. He sat back down like a king in his throne.
"Hey Robert!?" I yelled across the table. "What’s the deal? Is that your New Year’s tradition or what? Start off the New Year trying to get as shit-faced as possible?" I laughed and took a sip of beer, trying to get rid of the taste of that green crap Günther had ordered for us.
"Shit?" he asked curiously. He smiled a sly smirk, leaned back even further into the cushioned sofa, and started to laugh as well. He kept going, louder and stronger, well after I had wiped the last tear from my eye. "Shit! Ha ha ha!!!" he continued. I had no idea why he was still laughing. I had said "shit-faced" along with another two dozen words, but "shit" was probably the only one he understood. "Ha ha ha!!" Either way, he was pretty shit-faced. "Moje narozeniny! Narozeniny! ... Narozeniny jsou..." he paused for a moment and looked at Pavel, anticipating some help, but interrupted himself within half a second and went on, "Birfthday! Me birfday!"
"Ah! It’s your birthday?! Happy Birthday, man!"
Robert started laughing again and turned to Pavel, urging him to ask me something. "Robert want you sing the song."
"Shit, come on now! Not again. I already sang it and, anyway, I told you I don’t know the lyrics."
"No, no," Pavel interrupted. "Birfday song!"
"Aw, Jesus. I mean, come on. I’m not..."
"Pa-a-aul. Is Robert birfday. Please? Not for present he say?" He paused for a moment. "Sing! Sing! Sing!" he started, once again driving the others to follow his lead.
"OK! OK! If you’ll shut up! ...And if Robert will do another shot of rum with me when I’m done!"
Robert looked at Pavel, he translated, and Robert smilingly agreed.
"Happy Birthday to you-u-u! Happy Birthday to-o-o you-u-u! Happy Bi-i-irthday dear Ro-o-obert, Happy Birthday to you-u-u!!" and they all cheered louder than ever as I sat back down. Through the rest of the night, everyone kept singing that damn song – but to the rhythm of Auld Lang Syne.
I took my shot with Robert and asked Pavel if he wanted to play some darts. As we played, the others continued to buy Robert one birthday drink after the other. ‘Nazdraví’ it seemed – at least for that night – had been officially replaced. I heard "Happy-y-y Birfda-a-ay tu-u-u ju!" being sung from halfway across the room over and over again.
When Pavel and I finished, I turned and saw Robert, struggling to get on his feet from where he was sitting, so that his glass could meet the one in Jarda’s hand. He finally managed. "Happy Birfday tuju!" he looked into Jarda’s eyes and knocked back the rum.
"Happy Birthday to you!" I yelled, trying to correct him from halfway across the room.
"Happy Birfday tuju!!!" everyone turned and saluted in unison as Günther went to the bar for another round so that cheer wouldn’t be for naught.
Soon enough, about an hour or two into the New Year, we were all thoroughly wasted – especially Robert who had been struggling to stay awake and on the couch for the past few minutes.
"Now we have drinks," Pavel assured me as he got up, went to the bar, and returned to the table with two shot glasses full of liquor. "This is only one rum. One is Coke. We happy birfdays wif Robert. You see," he turned to Robert and shook him in order to wake him from his drunken slumber. Pavel started talking to him and said something about rum. Robert shuddered in disgust. Another shot was out of the question. But Pavel wouldn’t take ‘No’ for an answer. He kept going on, trying to convince him, and I eventually heard him mention Coke. Robert sniffed the shot glass Pavel handed to him, tasted it, saw that it was, in fact, just Coke, and sat up. Apparently, Pavel just wanted someone to take a shot with and didn’t feel good about leaving the birthday boy out. They both stood up and clinked glasses.
"Happy Birfday tuju!"
"Happy Birfday tuju!"
And down the drinks went. Robert’s eyes lit up as he slammed the glass onto the table and placed a clenched fist over his mouth. Pavel was laughing uncontrollably and I couldn’t help myself from joining in. He had pulled off the old switcheroo on poor Robert. Robert eventually started laughing too, took a sip of some orange juice that happened to be sitting on the table, and sat back down. He was too drunk to be angry. An hour or so later, as the sports bar started emptying and the party wound down, Robert was still in the same position – sleeping like a bear in winter.
It was now around four in the morning. Closing time was only thirty minutes away, we* (* There were actually only six of us left in the sports bar at that time. The entire place had cleared out and so had most of our entourage. Tonda had left with Jarka soon after midnight for their last night alone. Petra had gone home at about the same time because her parents were holding some sort of family get-together. Actually, Robert and Honza were both leaning against each other and sleeping in their seats there on the sofa. So, I guess, that “we” actually means only four people – Pavel, Jarda, Günther and myself.) were all tired, and the train back to Prague that day was leaving at noon. We all agreed to order one final beer, savor it, and then head on home for a well deserved slumber. Those of us that wanted to smoke lit our last cigarette of the evening – the morning – as we all tried to enjoy our fresh, cold beer despite the fact that we were oh so soz-z-z-zled. Halfway into our pints, Jarda jumped out of his seat and nearly knocked over all of our drinks. He started spouting out every single Czech swear word I knew of and then some. Pavel asked him what was wrong. Jarda explained. They both turned and looked at Honza and Robert, who happened to be sitting next to Jarda on the sofa. Pavel started chuckling, trying to control it, but unable to. Günther and I glanced at each other in confusion.
What actually happened, Pavel soon explained to me as Jarda told Günther, was that Robert had just pissed himself. Despite the fact that his jeans had just soaked up the copious amount of urine that hadn’t spread onto Honza, the sofa, or the floor – he continued sleeping soundly. So did Honza. Only Jarda, who happened to be sitting next to both of them, felt the warm, damp universe that the Birfday Boy had created expand beneath him.
"Hey guys... I think it’s time we went home."
"Excuse me, have you seen my friends? Three boys. We checked in earlier today," I directed to the gray-haired woman sitting opposite the television. She was watching the A-Team. Mr. T’s Czech didn’t seem to surprise me that much anymore.
Nothing but a blank stare through her thick glasses and a drag on her cigarette.
"I’m sorry. My friends?" I paused. "Do you speak English? Mluvíte anglicky?"
She slowly shook her head. Once to the left, then to the right, and gradually back, "Ne."
"Shit. Umm... Muj kamarade? Tři kamarade?"
She took another drag and smiled amiably. What followed was a long, drawn out answer in Czech of which I only understood one word. Hospoda. Pub.
"Dekuju," I thanked her, walked down the stairs while buttoning up my jackets, and found my way outdoors.
Although the sun was now setting and white powdered clouds blanketed the sky, the reflective snow-covered landscape still managed to blind me momentarily. To the one side, towards the lake, the only thing I could see for miles was pure, bright whiteness fading into a light gray mist and interrupted only occasionally by a few green branches that had somehow succeeded in shaking off a bit of the snow. The village of Horní Planá lay in the other direction. I could see a blue-green bronze spired dome piercing the pale haze. It was the top of the village’s medieval meeting hall and only a few minutes away. I upturned my collar, pulled it closer to my neck and headed towards it and into the snowfall. I passed a bakery, a small greengrocers, and soon found myself standing in the village’s central square, underneath the watchful eye of the snow-caked meeting hall’s clock. It was five o’clock. It seemed like a rather small village, so I decided to wander around the square in search of a pub, where the others would most likely be, and, although not likely but still worth a look, a signpost that clearly indicated I was indeed strolling around Horny Plaza.
I took a few steps and noticed "Hospoda" gazing directly at me. An old wooden placard. But rather than stop my search short, I decided to go on. I needed proof. How could I tell others I had been to Horny Plaza and seen it in all its glory if I wasn’t absolutely sure myself that this was it?
Then I saw it. In the distance and posted on a building opposite the square. A large "H". I went closer. "o". Then it was clear. "Hospoda". Another pub... Less than fifty feet from the first one and here was a second. I figured I could search both five minutes later. After I had circled the square and satisfied my curiosity.
The sun had completely set by then and it was now a bit darker than when I had first stepped outdoors. The snow, still falling as hard as ever, wouldn’t give. But now I was sure. I had rounded the corner and at the top saw another sign. This one was smaller and more modest, exactly opposite the meeting hall and square itself. As I took a few steps, it became clear and I couldn’t help but chuckle. "Hospoda".
In the end, I found five pubs lining the square and no indication of its name. A brisk five minute walk around the village’s hub had revealed five Hospodas (all open for business), a small greengrocers and a bakery (both closed). This may not have been Horny Plaza, but I had definitely stumbled upon something. Reflections, however, could wait. I was getting cold and hungry and needed to find the others.
Searching five pubs would take quite a while so I decided to just glance through the windows and see if I could spot them. Fortunately, Pavel saw me looking inside one of them a few minutes later and came out to get me. They were sitting next to the fireplace (thank God for my frozen toes and fingers) with two attractive girls. I joined them and introduced myself. Jarka, a tall brunette with short hair, stunning blue eyes, and a shy smile, was sitting with Tonda on one side of the table. Pavel again took his seat by Eva, a blonde with a single streak of pink running down the right side of her blonde hair, cream-white skin, and a low cut shirt that revealed her cavernous cleavage each time she leaned over. I sat next to Honza. He smiled at me and unveiled a chipped front tooth I hadn’t noticed before.
I asked Pavel what to order seeing as I hadn’t really eaten all day. He recommended the beer. Large. Tonda, however, had just finished a plate of fried cheese with roast potatoes and seemed quite pleased with it. I ordered both. By the time my food and drink arrived, the others had already dug themselves deep into their resumed conversation. Jarka kept smiling at everyone, hardly making a sound except for the laughter following either Tonda’s or Pavel’s remarks. Pavel seemed to be concentrating all of his attention on Eva (Who could blame him?) and Tonda would throw in what I could only assume was a witty remark after every few drinks and drags. Half comatose and half on his chair, Honza was the most drunk and the least talkative – except for shy Jarka of course. As I finished the last if my potatoes and signaled to others how good my meal had been by patting my stomach, Honza once again turned to me, smiled, and revealed that elusive tooth.
That’s another thing I should mention about Czechs. This may be a generalization and there are always exceptions, but, on the whole, the Czechs can handle their liquor. I can’t remember once throughout my stay in their country when two fellow nationals actually fell into fisticuffs over something as trivial as having one drink too many. How many times throughout my travels have I seen drunken Brits, Germans, Russians, etc. get into bare-knuckle brouhahas as a result of long nights and stiff drinks? But not the Czechs. I always felt safe riding the night tram home in Prague, even though it may have been in the dodgiest part of town at some godforsaken hour. Filled to the brim with drunken misfits of all sorts – vagabonds, skinheads, college students, winos, businessmen, English teachers – and all of them collapsed onto their respective seats, heads leaning against the windows and eyes closed as if they were dead. That is, until they reach each of their respective stops and, if they’re lucky, miraculously re-animate. If it wasn’t for the tourists also riding on most of those night trams, it would be as silent as a broken radio... you’re always waiting for something to come out of the speakers but nothing ever does. As I’ve said, I’m sure there are exceptions. The boorish, overbearing individuals that exist in every society. But I never saw them and, after all, how many of them can there be in the country that coined the "Velvet" Revolution? The Czechs truly understand that spirits are, in fact, meant to lift yours and not sink others’.
A few beers and fewer hours later, Robert and Jarda called Pavel on his mobile. We would be meeting them in an hour or so at a local dance club. Apparently, it was also located off of my phantom Horny Plaza but I had missed it during my earlier pub count of five. By that time, I was ready for a change. Jarka and Tonda were now exclusively speaking with each other. Honza, speaking incoherently in Czech to me earlier, was currently speaking incoherently in Czech to the others as they ignored him. So, basically, I was stuck in a three-way conversation between two people, Pavel and Eva. Eva’s English was a notch or two below Pavel’s which meant any dialogue on my part was completely out of the question. In the end, I simply sat there, drinking my way into the drunken state I had achieved earlier that morning, feigning interest in Eva’s occasional English questions, while trying to catch a glimpse of her creamy breasts each time she leaned towards the table and grabbed hold of her beer glass.
We reached the club, which looked more like someone’s small winter cabin doubling as a club, and found Robert and Jarda standing at the makeshift bar. They nazdravíed each other, downed a shot, slammed the empty glass on the counter and turned around, startled to see us. The club was much more crowded than the smoke-filled pub we had just left. It was teeming with teenagers, post-teens, and middle-aged men gawking at them from behind their drinks. Eventually, we just ended up standing near one of the dance-floor’s corners, clutching our cold half liter glasses of beer, while Honza and I tried to keep our balance by leaning against the wall. Honza soon couldn’t take it any longer and went to sit at a half-empty table. Robert and Jarda went dancing (if it could be called that) with some girls that had caught their eyes, and I was, again, stuck with Pavel and Eva.
"You like Horní Planá?" Eva asked as she seductively pushed some hair out of her face and placed it behind her ear. I caught a whiff of some bad BO and realized that it must have been that belch I had just released under my breath.
"Yeah. It’s nice." I wanted another cigarette but knew I might vomit if I smoked one. My Achilles heel.
"Yes. And peoples here holiday now," she continued.
"Yeah," I let out, trying to subdue what seemed to be approaching hiccups. As I momentarily turned, I glanced towards Honza and saw him sleeping, head in arms, on the table. I turned back to Eva, "Say, where’s ya friend Jarka?" I paused. "And Tonda for that fact?"
Eva smiled at me and looked at Pavel.
Pavel winked at me and started speaking with Eva in Czech again.
I soon grew bored, standing there like the third wheel on a bicycle, and went to sit down at the only empty seat in the cabin/club – next to Honza. The following day, I didn’t remember falling asleep there on the table next to Honza. I didn’t remember continually smacking Eva’s ass as we left the club and walked her home. I did remember falling face first into the snow a few times. But I also didn’t remember barging in on Tonda and Jarka having sex back at the pension, collapsing on my bed, and starting to snore as Pavel, Honza, Robert, and Jarda crammed themselves into the other bedroom in order not to disturb the busy couple. Apparently, a few minutes later, Tonda and Jarka weren’t that disturbed anymore and soon forgot about the drunk American sound asleep in the bed next to them while finishing what they had started earlier that night.
I woke up the next morning, wrapped in my blanket and alone with a sleeping Tonda in the room. Jarka had left during the night. I had a headache and the previous day, at best, was a loosely reconstructed haze. My entire stay in Horní Planá followed that same disoriented pattern, as hindsight would later reveal. As I lay there in the warmth of my bed, curled next to the radiator, I tried to fall asleep once again. But my impatient bladder wouldn’t let me and I was soon stumbling through the hall towards the toilet. On my way back, I could hear some talking in the next room so I decided to drop in on the other guys.
"Hey! Paul!" Pavel exclaimed as I opened the door.
"Sit here!" he sat up in his bed and patted the now empty space beside him, "...but only if your ass no hurt from fucking Tonda!"
"What?"
First, Pavel translated what he had said into Czech, garnered some laughs, and then proceeded to tell me all that had happened the night before.
"Tonda’s cock was nothing. You should’ve seen the size of the cucumber he used!" I joked in order to cover up my embarrassment. None of them understood my humor, let alone my use of the English language. Pavel asked me what a cucumber was. "Never mind. Say, do we have any food? I’m starving. Mam hlad. Mame jidlo?"
Robert said something to a half-awake Honza, whose bed was besides the only cabinet in the room. Honza opened the furniture’s door while still under the blanket and took out some beers. He passed them around one at a time.
"Shit man. I said I’m hungry. Mam hlad. What is this? Beer already?"
Pavel let out a hearty laugh and the others soon chimed in as well. "This is food! Is liquid bread!"
Pavel, Robert, and Honza popped open their bottles, nazdravíed each other, and took their first swigs of the day. Jarda and I left them unopened on the floor, unable to stomach more booze so early in the morning and following the previous day’s binge. I took some of the bread which I could now see in the cabinet and went nextdoor to get some of that sun-dried tomato cream cheese I had bought before we left Prague. I returned with my mouth half-full. Everyone’s beer was already half-empty. After I had finished eating, I joined in and popped open my first beer of the day as well. There’s nothing better for a hangover, I justified to myself, than a beer in the morning. Jarda and Tonda, who had by now woken up and wandered into the room, soon joined in the festivities as well.
Within moments, they were all yelling, laughing, and throwing beer caps, shoes, and potato salad at each other. As I tried to dodge these objects, I smiled and laughed along with the others, unsure of why I was doing it but knowing to join in whenever they did. I had no idea what they were saying, but it didn’t really seem to matter. They were just like me. Just like every young adult. Ready to take on the world but unable to do it. All that built up energy and youthful drive but with no available outlet. They were releasing it the only way they could. The only way they knew. The only way most of us know. Through revelry and comradery. Or, perhaps, I was pulling all of it out of my ass. They were just trying to get piss drunk and I wanted to join in. An hour or so later, the alcohol ran out and the room stunk of potato-laden mayonnaise. It was time to take the party elsewhere.
We ended up at the same pub lining pseudo Horny Plaza that we had visited the day before. It was noon and the place was already filled with a healthy cross-section of locals and visitors all looking for an escape from the cold and sobriety. We ordered six beers and sat down in the smoky midst of the male-dominated clientele. Jarka and Petra eventually joined us. Basically, we just sat there until the sunset – drinking, smoking, and ordering the occasional goulash. In fact, that’s how we spent most of our days in Horní Planá. We got to know the waiter, barman, and local alcoholics all by first name. We even helped one of them, Radek, stumble home to his enraged wife. He thanked us, proceeded to collapse onto the living room floor while his wife continued yelling from the couch, and promptly fell asleep. But that was a day or two later.
That night, after we were all successfully intoxicated but still sound in mind* (* It’s amazing how quickly you can build up a tolerance when you’re completely immersed in the country with the highest per capita alcohol consumption in the world. After two months in the Czech Republic, in my case, I had gone from barely being able to drink three or four pints of beer without falling asleep in my seat to drinking for more than a quarter of a day before starting to feel any alcoholic effect. I had become a Czech who couldn’t speak Czech!), we decided to take Eva’s advice and visit a local sports bar. The place was nice enough with two big-screen projection televisions, large comfortable sofa-seating, and a young friendly staff. Before long, Tonda left with Jarka for her house and the rest of us remained with Eva. Pavel, as he had done the night before, was concentrating all of his efforts on her. He eventually leaned over, right there in front of all of us, and began kissing her. After they had finished, she didn’t seem too interested in continuing what he had started and actually began to talk to me. Pavel didn’t mind at all though. He just kept drinking with the others and cracking jokes.
Eva didn’t really have anything that interesting to say – well, maybe she did but I couldn’t understand her – but I kept feigning interest in the hope that she would remain by my side. Hell, maybe I’d even get lucky. Eventually though, I noticed it. That same BO from the day before which I had thought was due to an alcohol induced belch was actually coming from Eva! I couldn’t really say that it was a "European" thing, as the stereotype goes, because throughout all of my encounters with European women I had never experienced it. But it was definitely an Eva thing. So I did the only logical thing. I put it out of my mind. She was too pretty and exotic to be bothered with something as trivial as deodorant I supposed. And I was too drunk and nadržený.
Some time later, my bladder took me to the bathroom and, on my way back to the table where we were seated, I noticed that Eva was no longer there but was now leaning against a pool table where some of her local friends were playing. I walked up to her. As we stood there talking, one thing led to another and, sure enough, our lips were soon locked as my hands fondled her firm ass. We finished. She licked her lips seductively. I caught a glimpse of Pavel back at the table. He was staring at us with a blank look on his face. I told Eva I’d be right back and went to the table expecting the worse.
"Hey Pavel. Listen. I’m sorry about that. I mean I know you’ve been..."
"She is nice kisser, yes?" he interrupted.
I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to say. "Well... Yes."
"Ha ha ha!" Pavel laughed and patted me amiably on the back. "You are good man! Like me! Likes beers and womans. Like me!!" He laughed away and continued talking with the others, a hundred percent true to his calm Czech composure.
I returned to Eva and we resumed talking. She didn’t seem that interested anymore though. She acknowledged me every now and then, would occasionally rub seductively against me, ‘accidentally’ of course, and continued her conversation with her friends as if I weren’t there. By the time the night had run its course, I found myself stumbling back home to the pension with Jarda, Robert, and Honza (Pavel had left an hour earlier with Eva). The four of us fell asleep in the same bedroom seeing as the one next door was locked and pulsating with ecstatic moans.
"What the hell happened last night?" I asked Pavel as he pulled up a seat and joined the rest of us for an early afternoon beer at the pub. "One second I was with Eva and the next – BAMM! – she disappears with you."
He winked at us, leaned back into his seat, and released "Řepy magic!" from his smiling lips. The others broke out into laughter instantaneously. He then proceeded to tell me the previous night’s, and that morning’s, events, pausing every now and then to translate for the others.
"So, Eva come for me at bar table after finish wif you and start to talking. I am very relax but I am see she wants Řepy magic! I am see in her eye she VERY... how do you say... HORNY!"
"Yeah, yeah. Horny."
"Yes! So I start touch and kiss her on... what is this?" he pointed to his neck.
"Neck."
"Yes! Neck. She can no to say no to me. Very horny, Paul. And Řepy magic! So I say in her ears ‘Later we go to pension.’ She say ‘No.’ I say ‘Why?’ And she say ‘No later – NOW!’" He broke into laughter, translated, and the others joined in.
"So we go to pension, but you is very drunk so no goodbye. We go into room and shes sit on bed. I close the door. Wait. Okay, she sits on bed – all normal. Clothes. All. I turn close the door and see again Eva. And no clothes! Is very funny!"
"Wait, wait. So she’s sitting on the bed, doing nothing, just sitting there. You turn around to lock the door and when you turn around again, she’s completely naked?! Where?"
"Yes! There on the bed. Did no move! But only five seconds and clothes is – POOF!"
"Disappeared."
"Yes. One second on bed, normal. Next is on bed, same the position, but disappeared clothes."
"In-fucking-credible."
"No, is Řepy magic," as the others laughed once again.
"And then what?" I broke in.
"And then what? And then what! We have fucking all night! Very horny, Paul. She very horny! All night. More, more, more! Give me more, she say. More, more, more!"
"So what did you do?"
"I give her more! In end, we bof, very... tired?"
"Yeah. Exhausted."
"Yes this. Exhausted and just go to sleep."
"Fucking real. You lucky son of a bitch."
"Yes," Pavel leaned back into his chair and took a long, drawn out sip, downing about a quarter of the beer in his glass. "But is not end. Best is this morning!" He then began telling a story in Czech to the others. He used his hands, started gyrating his hips, and finished it all a few minutes later with a wide-eyed expression. The others went wild.
"What? What? What happened?" I interrupted.
"Ha ha! So, well, we waking this morning and I turn my head and look Eva. She look me too, no sleeping. ‘You want fucking?’ she say. I very tired but, okay, Řepy magic is Řepy magic!"
"I can bet."
"Yes, of course. In bed."
"No, no. Bet. I can bet."
"Yes! In bed!"
"No. Well, just forget it. Then what happened?"
"So, we fucking, but next to window. I say get from behind so she get like this..." Pavel stood up from his chair and leaned over the table. "How you say fucking like this? Like horse?"
"Ha ha. Not a horse. Dog. Doggy style it’s called in English."
"Yes, doggy still. So we fucking doggy still. I am tired also so some sleeping. But I look out window and see beautiful water of Horní Planá."
"The lake?"
"Yes! Is very beautiful. We in Horní Planá free days but no see lake! Only beers. So I see now and is very beautiful. Snows. Trees. Natures. It very nice. And I ask Eva ‘This is Horní Planá natures? Very beautiful.’ She turn wif head and look out the window too. ‘Yes, yes. Very beautiful.’ she say. So I look for one, two minutes. Very beautiful!"
"Yeah, this is a nice place. I saw it the other day when I was walking around. The lake is breathtaking."
"Yes! So then Eva say ‘Um, Pavel... You forget somefing?’ because I stop fucking when look out window! Fucking, fucking, fucking... Stop. ‘This Horní Planá? Beautiful!’ ... ‘Um, Pavel. Please fucking me.’ ‘Oh, sorry,’ and I fucking again all morning. Ha ha! I stop fucking, just stand wif penis in Eva, and looking at natures. Fucking situlation! ‘Umm, Pavel. Please fucking me!’"
"Situation," as I tried to contain the laughter.
"Yes!" He lifted his glass and nazdravíed us all. The conquering knight who had – temporarily – been distracted from riding his horse.
"Nazdraví, Pavel. Nazdraví..."
Nothing out of the ordinary happened that evening. We decided to take it easy in preparation for the next day – New Year’s Eve. We stayed at the same bar, drank until the sun went down, and were eventually joined by Eva and Jarka. A couple of hours later we went back to our beds, except for Pavel and Tonda who had other beds in different parts of town waiting for them.
The two of them woke us up late the next morning as they barged into the bedroom, popped open the first beer of the day, and nazdravíed us all a happy Silvestr (New Year’s holiday). By this time, my fourth day in Horní Planá, I was growing extremely tired of the continuous party atmosphere. It was too much. Drinking all day and night until we could do nothing else but sleep. Then waking up the next day in order to repeat the whole thing over again. It was time for the Dum, and simple, quiet Dan. I comforted myself in the thought that I only had to hold out twenty-four more hours. By the next afternoon, I would be heading back to Prague. One more day – but what a day it turned out to be.
About an hour after we had woken up, we were all sitting around in the bedroom eating our breakfast rolls with potato salad and beer when a furious knock came at the door. It was the owner of the cottage and she had come bearing complaints. The others went outside to talk to her. Apparently, on our second day there, a family that had been staying down the hall from us complained about the noise and asked to be moved to the ground floor. She obliged and didn’t bother to tell us. Why ruin our fun? Boys will be boys, she reasoned. But that morning, two other families complained and asked to be moved as well. Our floor was now completely empty except for a lone Austrian who was staying at the other end of the hall. She told us that she had had enough. We had to leave. We were driving all her clientele away. Eventually, Pavel and the others convinced her to let us stay just one more night. After all, it was Silvestr. Reluctantly, she agreed but stipulated that one more complaint and that would be it – we would have to go. They thanked her with as many ‘Děkuju’s as they could and I topped it off with a ‘Thank You’.
Just as the owner was about to leave, she peeked into the room and, as Pavel later told me, burst out, "What the hell are those stains on the wall?! It smells like potato salad in here!"
Pavel quickly put his arm gently around her and guided her back outside into the hall as the others rushed to close the door behind him. I asked him if there was a problem but he said that she had only threatened to withhold our room deposits if there was any damage. He didn’t seem worried.
"Same fing happen every years. This happen last years too," as he reached for another bottle of beer and popped it open. "But now... We have small problem."
"What?" I replied. "The potato salad stains on the walls or the puke and piss outside the window?"
"The Austria man," he paused and thought intently. "Come, we go see him."
All six of us made our way to the end of the hall and knocked on the door. A man in his mid-forties with small, round glasses and disheveled graying hair opened the door.
"Guten Morgen."
Pavel spoke to him in Czech, but nothing. He tried his broken English. Again nothing. Fortunately, Jarda spoke some German. He asked the Austrian if he wanted a drink and some company. The lonely man jumped at the offer and invited us all into his room. It was a bit smaller than either of ours and had bottles of beer and liquor strewn about the floor.
Pavel nudged me with his shoulder and pointed at the empty bottles, "This is good man. We have no problems."
We sat there for the rest of the morning and better part of the afternoon talking (in Czech, German, and English), drinking, and smoking. Günther – the Austrian – had apparently been living at the pension for the past two weeks. His wife had taken the children and left him for another man about a month before that. For a while, he tried to keep his job and pay his bills, continuing life as if everything were still normal and his wife and kids would simply return one day. After a few weeks of that, he just said fuck it and decided to cross the border for a land with cheaper booze and slimmer women. That would be Step One of his elaborate plan, he told us, to create a new life: leave Austria and go to the Czech Republic. When we pressed him as to what Step Two was, he told us he hadn’t really thought that far ahead. He had gotten a bit sidetracked here in Horní Planá – the first Czech town he happened to drive through. He laughed it off, took a swig of brandy, and passed it around.
At about five or so, we all agreed that it was time to go out. All the beer and booze we had bought the day before at the supermarket was done and all the markets were closed for the holiday. We asked Günther if he wanted to join us and he gladly accepted. Soon, our motley group of seven was trudging through the snow, heading towards our familiar watering hole. We stayed there for a beer or two, waited for the girls to arrive, and then got ready to head out for the sports bar where we would be spending the rest of the night. We wished the barman and locals a happy Silvestr and were off.
Once we got there, Günther seemed to get a second wind (he had been practically sleeping while sitting at the Hospoda) and bought us all a shot of rum and kept doing so all through the night. I guess he was just happy to be with someone, even if no one really understood him. We played billiards, darts, and fussball and soon started socializing with the other people who had also decided to mark the changing of 2001 into 2002 by getting piss drunk at a sports bar in a small village near the Czech-Austrian border. Surprisingly, there were many of them... of us. As the midnight hour neared, bottles of Bohemian Sekt sparkling wine were placed on the tables, the TV was turned on to a live broadcast of Prague’s Old Town Square and its gorgeous clock tower, and Günther bought yet another round of shots. We all nazdravíed each other, downed the alcohol, and waited for the clock’s two hands to meet at twelve.
"Čtyři! ... Tři! ... Dva! ... Jedna! Šťastný Nový Rok!" came from the television as we all popped the cork out of our moderately priced sparkling wine bottles. We hugged, kissed, and nazdravíed each other once again while drinking from our plastic champagne glasses. Soon, we found ourselves outside admiring and mocking the mediocre village fireworks display.
"Happy New Year’s Paul!" Pavel yelled as we stood in the cold. "How is English New Year’s song?"
"Oh, you mean Auld Lang Syne. Shit, I have no idea. I don’t think anyone really knows the words. They’re usually just slurred together when you’re drunk."
"Sing! Sing! Sing!" he urged on and soon got the others to follow his lead. They all started chanting as the pathetic fireworks went up, one by one.
"OK. Okay. Um... Let a-a-all regrettance be-e-e forgot, and ne-e-ever said again! Let o-o-old acquaintance ne-e-ever end, and the-e-ere’s the Auld Lang Syne! Da da-a-a, da da, the ga-a-ang’s all here, I’m gla-a-ad that we all met! But o-o-one-for-all and a-a-all-for-one, I’m su-u-re we won’t forget!!" I sang as loudly as I could.
The others gathered round, clapping and whistling enthusiastically. "Yes! Yes! That is song! Good English song. Ba ba-a-a, ba ba..." Pavel started mouthing the Auld Land Sane rhythm. When he was done, "What does mean, Paul?"
"What? The lyrics?"
"Yes."
"Um, well, let’s see. It’s about friends and stuff. You know, they really get along. And now that it’s a New Year, they hope that they’ll continue... well, getting along."
"Yes. Is beautiful." Pavel started humming the rhythm again. Suddenly, a snowball smacked him right in the face. Honza smiled, revealing that chipped tooth of his. I ducked down as flying balls of ice instantaneously appeared everywhere I looked. By the time we had finished with our childish game, we were all exhausted and ready to head back into the sports bar for more drunken revelry.
We had barely returned to our seats when Günther, yet again, placed another round of freshly poured shot glasses filled with a greenish liquid on the table. Pavel followed him with two of the same tiny glasses, but filled with a brownish liquid, in his hands. He smacked one down in front of Robert, lifted his in the air in preparation for a "Nazdraví", and waited for Robert to join. Robert, smiling and starting to blush after Pavel had said a few words, stood up, clinked his glass (filled with rum, one of Robert’s favorites) with Pavel’s, and made the alcohol disappear in one go. He then lifted the shot Günther had bought for him, urged us all to lift ours, said something in Czech, and downed that one as well just like the rest of us. He sat back down like a king in his throne.
"Hey Robert!?" I yelled across the table. "What’s the deal? Is that your New Year’s tradition or what? Start off the New Year trying to get as shit-faced as possible?" I laughed and took a sip of beer, trying to get rid of the taste of that green crap Günther had ordered for us.
"Shit?" he asked curiously. He smiled a sly smirk, leaned back even further into the cushioned sofa, and started to laugh as well. He kept going, louder and stronger, well after I had wiped the last tear from my eye. "Shit! Ha ha ha!!!" he continued. I had no idea why he was still laughing. I had said "shit-faced" along with another two dozen words, but "shit" was probably the only one he understood. "Ha ha ha!!" Either way, he was pretty shit-faced. "Moje narozeniny! Narozeniny! ... Narozeniny jsou..." he paused for a moment and looked at Pavel, anticipating some help, but interrupted himself within half a second and went on, "Birfthday! Me birfday!"
"Ah! It’s your birthday?! Happy Birthday, man!"
Robert started laughing again and turned to Pavel, urging him to ask me something. "Robert want you sing the song."
"Shit, come on now! Not again. I already sang it and, anyway, I told you I don’t know the lyrics."
"No, no," Pavel interrupted. "Birfday song!"
"Aw, Jesus. I mean, come on. I’m not..."
"Pa-a-aul. Is Robert birfday. Please? Not for present he say?" He paused for a moment. "Sing! Sing! Sing!" he started, once again driving the others to follow his lead.
"OK! OK! If you’ll shut up! ...And if Robert will do another shot of rum with me when I’m done!"
Robert looked at Pavel, he translated, and Robert smilingly agreed.
"Happy Birthday to you-u-u! Happy Birthday to-o-o you-u-u! Happy Bi-i-irthday dear Ro-o-obert, Happy Birthday to you-u-u!!" and they all cheered louder than ever as I sat back down. Through the rest of the night, everyone kept singing that damn song – but to the rhythm of Auld Lang Syne.
I took my shot with Robert and asked Pavel if he wanted to play some darts. As we played, the others continued to buy Robert one birthday drink after the other. ‘Nazdraví’ it seemed – at least for that night – had been officially replaced. I heard "Happy-y-y Birfda-a-ay tu-u-u ju!" being sung from halfway across the room over and over again.
When Pavel and I finished, I turned and saw Robert, struggling to get on his feet from where he was sitting, so that his glass could meet the one in Jarda’s hand. He finally managed. "Happy Birfday tuju!" he looked into Jarda’s eyes and knocked back the rum.
"Happy Birthday to you!" I yelled, trying to correct him from halfway across the room.
"Happy Birfday tuju!!!" everyone turned and saluted in unison as Günther went to the bar for another round so that cheer wouldn’t be for naught.
Soon enough, about an hour or two into the New Year, we were all thoroughly wasted – especially Robert who had been struggling to stay awake and on the couch for the past few minutes.
"Now we have drinks," Pavel assured me as he got up, went to the bar, and returned to the table with two shot glasses full of liquor. "This is only one rum. One is Coke. We happy birfdays wif Robert. You see," he turned to Robert and shook him in order to wake him from his drunken slumber. Pavel started talking to him and said something about rum. Robert shuddered in disgust. Another shot was out of the question. But Pavel wouldn’t take ‘No’ for an answer. He kept going on, trying to convince him, and I eventually heard him mention Coke. Robert sniffed the shot glass Pavel handed to him, tasted it, saw that it was, in fact, just Coke, and sat up. Apparently, Pavel just wanted someone to take a shot with and didn’t feel good about leaving the birthday boy out. They both stood up and clinked glasses.
"Happy Birfday tuju!"
"Happy Birfday tuju!"
And down the drinks went. Robert’s eyes lit up as he slammed the glass onto the table and placed a clenched fist over his mouth. Pavel was laughing uncontrollably and I couldn’t help myself from joining in. He had pulled off the old switcheroo on poor Robert. Robert eventually started laughing too, took a sip of some orange juice that happened to be sitting on the table, and sat back down. He was too drunk to be angry. An hour or so later, as the sports bar started emptying and the party wound down, Robert was still in the same position – sleeping like a bear in winter.
It was now around four in the morning. Closing time was only thirty minutes away, we* (* There were actually only six of us left in the sports bar at that time. The entire place had cleared out and so had most of our entourage. Tonda had left with Jarka soon after midnight for their last night alone. Petra had gone home at about the same time because her parents were holding some sort of family get-together. Actually, Robert and Honza were both leaning against each other and sleeping in their seats there on the sofa. So, I guess, that “we” actually means only four people – Pavel, Jarda, Günther and myself.) were all tired, and the train back to Prague that day was leaving at noon. We all agreed to order one final beer, savor it, and then head on home for a well deserved slumber. Those of us that wanted to smoke lit our last cigarette of the evening – the morning – as we all tried to enjoy our fresh, cold beer despite the fact that we were oh so soz-z-z-zled. Halfway into our pints, Jarda jumped out of his seat and nearly knocked over all of our drinks. He started spouting out every single Czech swear word I knew of and then some. Pavel asked him what was wrong. Jarda explained. They both turned and looked at Honza and Robert, who happened to be sitting next to Jarda on the sofa. Pavel started chuckling, trying to control it, but unable to. Günther and I glanced at each other in confusion.
What actually happened, Pavel soon explained to me as Jarda told Günther, was that Robert had just pissed himself. Despite the fact that his jeans had just soaked up the copious amount of urine that hadn’t spread onto Honza, the sofa, or the floor – he continued sleeping soundly. So did Honza. Only Jarda, who happened to be sitting next to both of them, felt the warm, damp universe that the Birfday Boy had created expand beneath him.
"Hey guys... I think it’s time we went home."
posted by G.C. PHILO at 6:40 AM
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