CHAPTER 14 - What Are You Doing Here?
"INCREDIBLE man. I mean, fuckin’ unreal! I still can’t believe that you’re here. I mean, sitting together at some café in Prague, you know?"
"Yeah, I hear ya, Paul. Neither can I to be honest with you."
"Incredible..." Luke and I had just met up for coffee. It was the Friday after ‘Poetry in the Twilight’ and we both had a few hours to spare between morning and afternoon classes. "I mean, for how long have you been planning to leave America? You know, to travel and live abroad."
"Come off it, Paul!" Luke never wasted time in trying to prove himself right and – inevitably – me wrong. "I been traveling a helluva lot more than you have. All over Europe and even Africa and China. Where have you been? Only to Greece!"
Luke was right. I guess I had just forgotten it all. His parents loved traveling (and had the money and time to do it). Every summer since he could remember was spent globe-hopping with mom, dad and sister. He had gotten the bug very young. "Yeah, I guess your right."
"But I do have to admit. We only decided on Prague cause you were here. Plus, I’ve never been hear and heard only great things about the city. All the travel guides say that it’s beautiful but this..."
"Is stunning." I found I had acquired the rather annoying habit of finishing other people’s sentences each time they hesitated a bit. Teaching your native language to others does a lot of strange things to you. "Yeah, Prague certainly doesn’t disappoint. So, how long are you planning on staying here?"
"Well, probably until summer. Char really wants to go home by then. Hell, she misses her family already. I can’t imagine how she’ll be in five months!"
"Jesus Christ, man," I shook my head in disappointment. "You’ve got a woman running your life and we’re only fresh out of college. You’re free NOW, man! Use it! Enjoy it! Why on Earth are you traveling with your girlfriend?!"
"Yeah, I know," Luke stared hopelessly at the coffee in front of him for a second too long. Then he realized that he might be losing face. "But it’s nice to have a girl around. And I really do love Char, Paul. Besides, look at yourself! Back in college, you never had a girlfriend. At least not long enough for anyone other than yourself to remember!"
Luke was right again. That’s another problem with old friends. They know too much about you and can always hit below the belt. I had never had a relationship for longer that three months. Marie in Greece was proof of that. And in college, I wasn’t like most of the other testosterone-driven primates, all three eyes and both heads willing to follow any pretty thing that chanced to walk by. If sex happened, as it usually did without trying too hard, it happened. Nothing to get worked up over until that libido went through too long of a drought period. And even if it did, there was always manual irrigation. I was too busy reading and thinking to be worried about relationships – be it getting into them or keeping them.
"Hey man, I told you back then and I’ll tell you again. I don’t want any chains holding me down. I’m free to go and come and do as I please. Independence, my friend, that’s the key word. In-de-pen-dence. A steady job, kids, a wife, girlfriend – fuck, they’re all credit card debts man. The more you have, the deeper into slavery you get. I steady girlfriend... Shit! I will NEVER willingly put shackles on my freedom. And I’ll tell you what – that girlfriend of yours is the beginning link of a chain that will get nothing but larger and stronger with time."
"Enough of this bullshit, Paul. You always start with this..."
"Okay. Just one more thing," I interrupted. Luke was getting irritated. "I forget who said it, but the longer it takes you to pack up your shit and walk out the door forever, the less independence you have. Words to live by my friend."
"Anyway, Paul... Enough. I’ll have fun with Char, you have fun with your right hand."
We sat there quietly for a minute or two. Sipping our coffee in silence as conversations buzzed all around us. Nearly all of them in Czech. A few, between businessmen and tourists mainly, in English, German, and French. I had angered Luke by being too blunt about his girlfriend. I knew he would get like this but I couldn’t help it. Deep down, he must have agreed with what I was saying. That’s why he was sulking. Oh well, nothing heals better than time. I leaned back in my chair, rolled a cigarette, lit it, and waited patiently for Luke to say something.
"So, what are you doing here then Paul?" Luke lifted the cup of coffee to his lips.
"Where?"
"You know, here in Prague. Traveling. All of this."
"Basically, I guess, the same thing everyone else here is doing. I don’t want to get some shitty nine to five job and spend my life thinking of ways to better redecorate my family home, all the while hoping that I’ll have enough time to play golf during the weekend." I took a drag and exhaled. "Another American told me that when I first came here, and I couldn’t agree more."
"Yeah," Luke nodded in agreement. "I hear ya. The plight of modern man, huh?"
"Modern man, my ass. All of mankind since the dawn of civilization. Once you have enough to guarantee a roof over your head and food in your stomach for the next month. When you get those conditions, everyone thinks about this stuff... Well, I should say, at least everyone who actually thinks does."
Luke laughed. "Right. Why stay at home when there’s an entire world waiting to be explored?!"
"Exactly. And, I mean, at least we’re traveling. The family thing has been done. The nine to five job thing has been done. Come to think of it, the travel your entire life thing has been done too – but at least not as much."
"We can’t go on like this forever though."
"Yeah," I sighed, "I know. Trust me, I have no delusions. I’ll probably settle down some day, have a wife and 1.8 children – whatever the birthrate is at that time – and resign myself to mediocrity and redundancy until death comes along as a welcomed relief. But I’ll tell you what, man. I’m gonna try and put it off for as long as I can."
"Jesus, Paul. I mean, talk about your pessimism. But I do understand you."
"Hey, don’t get me wrong. At least I’ll have a lot of interesting stories and adventures to tell when the time comes!"
Luke smiled a bit, and then paused. "So, there have been forgotten generations. Fitzgerald was Lost. So were Hemmingway and Stein. And Kerouac and Ginsberg were both Beat. What the hell are we?"
"Fuck man, those are just adjectives for the same old shit that has been going on forever. You think some creative little word before ‘Generation’ makes me or you or them any different from the previous? Or us any different from what’s to come? So they had a war which we don’t and we have terrorism which they didn’t. We have DVDs, they had the Blues and Jazz." I took one last puff of my cigarette and snuffed it. "I’ll tell you what we are, Luke. We’re a generation. That’s it. A miserable, ambiguous, and indecisive group of people in their twenties and thirties unsure of anything except for what we had for breakfast – and sometimes not even that. Just like all the ones before us and all the ones to come. You can attach an adjective in front of ‘Generation’ it it’ll make you feel unique, like you belong to something new, if you want. But don’t kid yourself."
"That’s it then?" Luke cut in. "That’s all? Come on Paul. There’s more to life than just this shit you’re talking about. Some people actually know what they want from life. They know there’s a future. Something – a goal – worth working for. They’re happy to settle down and start a family. Or a career. Or something else. It inspires them. Living in our world inspires them!"
I wasn’t sure if Luke was serious or just playing devil’s advocate. I rolled my eyes and waited for him to continue his point. He must have been waiting for me to start. "Well, Luke," I interrupted the silence, "I have to get going soon. My class starts in thirty minutes and I sort of want to get a sandwich or something to eat beforehand."
"Yeah, me too." We both stood up and put on our jackets.
"Oh, before I forget. I’m going to some African wedding party or something with some guys that I know – Alpha, Kim, and Jordan – later on tonight. We can meet up before I go if you want. You’re more than welcome to come. Tell Char too."
"Cool, that sounds great. When you wanna meet?"
"Um, let’s say at Muzeum Metro station. Nine o’clock, okay?"
Luke agreed and told me he would ask Char if she wanted to come along as well. We paid for our coffee at the counter and headed our separate ways. Walking in search of a sandwich shop, though, I couldn’t help but think how, if at all, living here in the Czech Republic had changed my views on life. That conversation, those things I had told Luke, had all been firmly set in my brain before I left Philadelphia and worked my way over here. Was there room in my logic for these new individuals I had met? I was confident that Pavel, the Řepy gang, and my students fit my philosophical equation – despite the fact that they lived halfway across the world from where I was born. A global community... even in despondency. But what of the others? Those strange creatures I encountered every week at chess night, for example? Like Arthur and Jordan. What of the Dans and Kims of this world? Hell, maybe even Herman and Reinhard. I couldn’t be, and wasn’t so sure anymore. Luke’s words haunted me as I wandered through the streets of Prague that day. "Living in our world inspires them."
Alpha was originally from Mali. He had been raised in, by rural West African standards, a "middle-class" family in a medium sized town in the savanna. One of seven siblings, he had to start working at a very young age but was still allowed to continue his studies. Eventually, his parents fell on better times and, fortunately for Alpha, it coincided with his completion of secondary school. With a little help from his parents, a scholarship, and a favorable entrance exam result, he went off to study for the next few years at the Sorbonne. Alpha, for some odd reason, had always been fascinated by Eastern Europe and that healthy interest eventually matured into a degree in Slavic Studies. With a fluent command of Russian, he left Paris and made his way to the Soviet Union where he lived for a number of years in the late 80s and 90s. He told me that had had a great time with the Russian people. He had a stress-free job translating from French to Russian and vice versa and traveled all throughout that vast country whenever he had the opportunity. Once, when I was talking to him about how much I would love to take the Trans-Siberian Express, Alpha replied that it was an experience not to be missed. Over a week’s worth of continuous travel. Always moving. The landscape keeps changing and yet there you are – in the same train – from Moscow to Vladivostok. Alpha said it was full of Russian newlyweds. The trip through Siberia to the frozen northern waters of the Pacific and back was considered to be an ideal honeymoon. The only thing was that most of the passengers were just as interested in Alpha, if not more so, than what was going on outside of the train’s windows. Not only had most of them never actually seen a true, dark-as-night African before, but they had never expected one to speak perfect Russian either. Alpha loved telling stories about Russia. But, eventually, after the Soviet Union fell and capitalism took hold of the country, he decided it was time to leave. Alpha had tried to stay on after the fall of communism, but he just found that the standard of living and life in general were becoming more and more unbearable. And so, he left for Prague, in 1992 I believe, right after Czechoslovakia split into two countries, and had been living here ever since. By the time I met him, he was staying in Modřany, in the Dum, on the floor directly below me.
"Ahhh! Allô Kim and Paul! You are ready to party?" Alpha spoke in a thick French-African accent. His English wasn’t perfect – he had never formally studied it in school – but he had picked up more than enough just by living in the Dum, hanging out with English-speaking expats, and by taking the occasional private lesson.
Kim and I had been waiting for him in the TV room on the seventh floor. "Hey Alpha! I wanted to know if we could stop by Muzeum first before we go to the party," I asked.
"Bien entendu! Yes! It is near to the wedding party. Why?"
"Well, I just met an old friend from back home the other day. I don’t think he has much planned for tonight, so I was wondering if he and his girlfriend can also come with us. Do you think it’ll be a problem?"
Alpha laughed out loud and revealed his perfect white teeth. "In Mali, after the wedding, we say to the entier village to come! Two extra is nothing! Naturellement they come!" That was one thing about Alpha. He loved partying and, what’s more, he loved partying with as many people as possible.
"So, I guess we just need to wait for Jordan now," Kim said.
"No, no. I talk to Jordan on my telephone and he said to meet us outside the party." Alpha signaled us out of the TV room, "We go? Allons-y?" We put on our coats and left.
"Hey Alpha, what kind of party is this? It’s not like some formal wedding reception, is it?" I asked as we stood in the cold waiting for the bus. It was flurrying and there was a light dusting of snow on the ground.
"No, no. Not cérémonieux. Is informel. You see, in Mali, Senegal, and otha West Africa, we have a wedding and cérémonie for near relatives. Then EVERYONE," his eyes bulged as his mouth emphasized the word, "come to party until the morning. You see?"
"Wow. Cool. So who will be there?"
"ALL Africans from Prague. Students, teachers, workers. You will see Paul. Not only people from Mali but from EVERYWHERE!"
"Nice. I can’t wait!" I took my hands out of my pockets, rubbed them together, and blew in them. As I was warming myself, a group of three men walked by, checked the bus timetable, glanced at us, and waited a few feet away. They were pretty young and it looked like they were doing the same thing as us – preparing to party.
Suddenly, one of them made a monkey sound and the others chuckled. Another one started dancing around a bit like a chimpanzee and then they really broke out into laughter. Pretty soon, one of them had pulled the corner of his eyes towards his temples and was naming off as many Chinese dishes as he could think of. Their guffaws filled the silent night.
"Hey guys," I said to Kim and Alpha, who didn’t seem disturbed at all by what was going on, "that shit is completely uncalled for. Should we go say something to them? Tell them to fuck off?"
Alpha looked at the three young guys, who were still at it, and then replied to with a smile, "This is a big world Paul! They do not know of Afrique... or Asie. For them, is new. Exotique." He paused for a moment. "Is naturel to joking when you do not understand."
"Yeah... but..." I hesitated a bit, "Doesn’t that shit offend you?"
"Ahh Paul," Kim interrupted. "When you travel a lot more, you’ll see that there are only a few open-minded people in this world and then there’s the majority – those who just laugh at and mock what they don’t understand. It’s not that they’re bad, or evil... They’re just... well, I guess, normal."
"Exactement," Alpha said. "In Mali, in my village, we have no Europeéns. We look when we see them."
"Yeah. And some places in Korea the same thing. You should see how people in the smaller towns stare when they see not only a white person, but a black person. Ha! They drop everything!"
"Huh, I guess maybe you’re right," I replied despite the fact that I didn’t really believe it. I was raised in America – the land of political correctness. It’s difficult to see beyond your starting point. But that, I guess, is exactly what they were arguing.
"Many people can not imagine what is in this world," Alpha said in a grandfatherly tone. The bus pulled up to the stop just as he finished. Alpha turned to the boys and started speaking in perfect Czech to them. They were shocked, to say the least, and entered into a short but polite discussion with him. The bus’ doors closed, we grabbed three seats, and the boys went off to the back of the bus and sat there silently. "They can not imagine, for exemple, that a man from Mali can speak them perfectly in their language!"
We met Luke and Char at Muzeum and made off by foot for where the African wedding party was being held. Jordan, that long-haired, well-traveled Canadian that I knew so well from chess night, was waiting outdoors.
"Bonsoir! Just on time, ol’ buddy!" Jordan said to Alpha and hugged him hello. "Comment vas-tu? Bien?" he continued in French and Alpha replied. Apparently, the two had been friends for quite a long time.
We walked into the club – well, actually, it was one of those all-night laser bowling and entertainment places with a huge bar and dancefloor off to the side – and were astounded by the sheer mass of people inside. The place was packed. I far as I could tell too, we were the only non-Africans in the place. Alpha was still busy talking with some friends at the door who had let us in despite the fact that we didn’t have any invitation cards. We soon found an empty table and sat down. The waitress, a cute little Czech, came over and took our order. She seemed surprised to see us. She had probably never seen so many Africans before and, in the middle of them all, three Americans, a middle-aged Canadian hippie, and a Korean. Alpha soon joined us again.
"Eh Kim!" Alpha yelled over the thumping dance music, "I hear that you are to leave for Korea soon. Is it true?"
"Yeah," Kim replied, struggling to hear over the commotion. "In about a week."
"Why you are returning?" Alpha continued.
"Ah, well," Kim paused for a moment. "You know, I haven’t seen my parents in over five years now. And that’s just one of the reasons."
"Wow, is that true?" I struggled to have my voice heard. I don’t think it was.
"And you got a wife waitin’ over there for you too, eh bud?" Jordan was more successful than me.
Kim gave him a dirty glance. "I told you Jordan! She’s not my wife! You just don’t understand. Korean society is different. You’re expected to get married by your mid-twenties or else everyone thinks your some sort of social outcast." Kim took a long sip of beer and let out that hearty laugh that characterized him so well, "But fuck it! I’m not getting married anytime soon. I just want to see my parents and say hello to some old friends. Like I said... Ha! It’s been five years!"
"And after that?" Kim heard me this time.
He winked at me and, as rare as it was, gave me an authentic smile – not one of those boisterous forced laughs I had grown accustomed to, "Maybe, just maybe... There’s a place in this world where my guitar sounds even BETTER than it does here. But I’ll never know unless I look, will I?"
Alpha interrupted, "Forget it Kim, my friend. A woman waiting at home is no raison to forget you live!"
"Bien entendu! There’s an intellectual, buddy! Straight from the horse’s mouth! This guy knows what he’s talkin’ about!"
"Exactement, Jordan! You do not see that I am sitting at the Dum... waiting... because of my fiancée in Mali, do you!?" A young woman walked by and temporarily took Alpha’s eyes with her.
Luke and Char had been silent throughout the entire conversation, probably because they didn’t really know anyone at the table except me. But Char finally spoke up, clearly carrying her voice across the table and over the pounding dance music. "You have a fiancée in Mali, Alpha? How long she been waiting for ya?"
"I did not want to engaging her. I told her to not wait. But she is. What can I do? Six years now and I meet her once when home in Mali."
Char didn’t reply. She just sat there slightly agape and then turned to Luke in order to make sure he saw the look on her face. He just shrugged his shoulders and went back to drinking his beer, paying attention to the conversation unfolding before him.
"That’s it exactly, buddy! I said it once and I’ll say it again. It’s just a struggle for freedom. You see? That’s life. You gotta take some drastic measures if you wanna keep it some time." Both Kim and Alpha laughed in unison once Jordan had finished speaking.
"Very drastic, camarade!" Alpha exclaimed.
"Wait, Jordan. So you really did have a..." I spoke awkwardly with my hands.
"Vasectomy?" he completed my sentence for me. "Sure! The best thing I’ve ever did!" he added in Greek.
"Incredible..." I exhaled. Luke was really taken in by the conversation now. Char, as far as I could tell, still hadn’t shut her gaping mouth.
"Well, I’m not going that far! I’ll just tell my parents I don’t want to get married... yet, at least."
"Why not, Kim ol’ buddy? It’s the best thing I ever did. The most intellectual! Twenty-seven years of guaranteed freedom and not a single regret!"
"Twenty-seven? Hey Jordan, how old are you?" as my curiosity got the best of me.
"Fifty-eight years young, pal!" he said as a huge grin pierced through his graying beard and he raised his arm to form a biceps curl. He too his glass of orange juice (Jordan was a non-drinker and non-smoker) and downed it. "And I’ve never felt better!"
"Amen to this!" Alpha praised. "It is true for me as well! And seeing that there are many pretty filles here this night, I’m sorry to now go! Au revoir!" And with that, Alpha went off into the thick of the dancefloor, disappearing from our sight with his drink in one hand while his loose hips kept bumping into every pretty lady whose path he happened to cross.
"That Alpha, a real intellectual! I like how he thinks!" Jordan's eyes started wandering as well. "Hey Paul," he turned to me and started in Greek, "Many pretty woman here, and I have all the times and freedoms in the world!"
"Ha ha ha. You really are some character Jordan. Well said!"
"Exactly buddy!" and his eyes lit up.
We all just sat there for a while, in silence, looking at the party around us. It was quite a sight. It was quite a life. I felt good.
"Hey guys," Luke interrupted. "Char and I are gonna get some drinks from the bar. Y’all want anything?"
Kim and I both ordered another beer. Jordan was fine. My old college buddy and his girlfriend then disappeared into a crowd of festive-frenzy Africans.
"Hey Kim," I momentarily stopped my head from bobbing rhythmically to the music. "I can’t believe you only told me that you were leaving Prague only like a dozen days before you actually did it."
"Why not?" His head kept going to the beat.
"Why not?! Well, first of all, you’ve been my best friend here. We hang out all the time. We have tons of laughs together. You’re a great guy to hang out with."
"Thanks."
I couldn’t believe how indifferent he was to what I was saying, "And... like... You’ve been a great friend. More than anyone could ask for. You’ve taught me everything I need to know about this place – all the scams, all the ropes, where to go and when. I mean, you’ve shown me how the city runs, man!"
"Well, there you go," he finally turned to look at me. "You know what’s left for me to show you about Prague though?"
"No. What?"
"Guess."
"Here we go again. I don’t know."
"Ha! Come on! Guess!"
"I don’t know, Kim. Just tell me!"
"I can’t! That’s exactly it! Ha! There’s nothing left for me to show you about this place! So, there’s no need to worry. This is the traveler’s life. The life we’ve chosen. No regrets! Our journeys happened to run together for a while and who’s to say they won’t again? No need to worry, Paul!" He lifted his glass and nazdravíed me and Jordan’s empty juice glass.
"That’s some good stuff there, Kim! Ah, right... I see what you’re saying, bud."
"Besides," Kim leaned in close so that he wouldn’t have to speak over the music, "How else will you know how cheap the beer – and how much cheaper the women – can get if you don’t explore it on your own!"
Luke and Char soon came back with their drinks and the two extra beers. "Hey Paul, I think we saw that guy from the open-mike night on the dancefloor."
"What guy?" as I took my first refreshing gulp of that exquisite Czech beer. My throat was parched from all the heat being generated by those dancing bodies and the cigarettes I had smoked.
"Y’all know, the tall drunk guy with the mustache. The one who made an ass outta himself," Char replied.
Kim and I glanced at each other in astonishment. "Herman!!"
We quickly made our way to the bar area, which was slightly elevated above the rest of the club, and turned to take in our command of the dancefloor. We could see nothing but bodies pressed against each other and moving in a lively, graceful unison to whatever beats the DJ on the other side of the room was spinning on his turntable. A hundred bodies. At least. All dancing and bobbing their heads. Shaking their hands. Waving their arms. Gyrating their hips. And in the midst of that uniform ocean of rhythmic Negro complexions, we could clearly make out a single White man. His bald head, crooked nose, bushy mustache, and long lanky arms were dancing to a different beat altogether.
"Yeah, I hear ya, Paul. Neither can I to be honest with you."
"Incredible..." Luke and I had just met up for coffee. It was the Friday after ‘Poetry in the Twilight’ and we both had a few hours to spare between morning and afternoon classes. "I mean, for how long have you been planning to leave America? You know, to travel and live abroad."
"Come off it, Paul!" Luke never wasted time in trying to prove himself right and – inevitably – me wrong. "I been traveling a helluva lot more than you have. All over Europe and even Africa and China. Where have you been? Only to Greece!"
Luke was right. I guess I had just forgotten it all. His parents loved traveling (and had the money and time to do it). Every summer since he could remember was spent globe-hopping with mom, dad and sister. He had gotten the bug very young. "Yeah, I guess your right."
"But I do have to admit. We only decided on Prague cause you were here. Plus, I’ve never been hear and heard only great things about the city. All the travel guides say that it’s beautiful but this..."
"Is stunning." I found I had acquired the rather annoying habit of finishing other people’s sentences each time they hesitated a bit. Teaching your native language to others does a lot of strange things to you. "Yeah, Prague certainly doesn’t disappoint. So, how long are you planning on staying here?"
"Well, probably until summer. Char really wants to go home by then. Hell, she misses her family already. I can’t imagine how she’ll be in five months!"
"Jesus Christ, man," I shook my head in disappointment. "You’ve got a woman running your life and we’re only fresh out of college. You’re free NOW, man! Use it! Enjoy it! Why on Earth are you traveling with your girlfriend?!"
"Yeah, I know," Luke stared hopelessly at the coffee in front of him for a second too long. Then he realized that he might be losing face. "But it’s nice to have a girl around. And I really do love Char, Paul. Besides, look at yourself! Back in college, you never had a girlfriend. At least not long enough for anyone other than yourself to remember!"
Luke was right again. That’s another problem with old friends. They know too much about you and can always hit below the belt. I had never had a relationship for longer that three months. Marie in Greece was proof of that. And in college, I wasn’t like most of the other testosterone-driven primates, all three eyes and both heads willing to follow any pretty thing that chanced to walk by. If sex happened, as it usually did without trying too hard, it happened. Nothing to get worked up over until that libido went through too long of a drought period. And even if it did, there was always manual irrigation. I was too busy reading and thinking to be worried about relationships – be it getting into them or keeping them.
"Hey man, I told you back then and I’ll tell you again. I don’t want any chains holding me down. I’m free to go and come and do as I please. Independence, my friend, that’s the key word. In-de-pen-dence. A steady job, kids, a wife, girlfriend – fuck, they’re all credit card debts man. The more you have, the deeper into slavery you get. I steady girlfriend... Shit! I will NEVER willingly put shackles on my freedom. And I’ll tell you what – that girlfriend of yours is the beginning link of a chain that will get nothing but larger and stronger with time."
"Enough of this bullshit, Paul. You always start with this..."
"Okay. Just one more thing," I interrupted. Luke was getting irritated. "I forget who said it, but the longer it takes you to pack up your shit and walk out the door forever, the less independence you have. Words to live by my friend."
"Anyway, Paul... Enough. I’ll have fun with Char, you have fun with your right hand."
We sat there quietly for a minute or two. Sipping our coffee in silence as conversations buzzed all around us. Nearly all of them in Czech. A few, between businessmen and tourists mainly, in English, German, and French. I had angered Luke by being too blunt about his girlfriend. I knew he would get like this but I couldn’t help it. Deep down, he must have agreed with what I was saying. That’s why he was sulking. Oh well, nothing heals better than time. I leaned back in my chair, rolled a cigarette, lit it, and waited patiently for Luke to say something.
"So, what are you doing here then Paul?" Luke lifted the cup of coffee to his lips.
"Where?"
"You know, here in Prague. Traveling. All of this."
"Basically, I guess, the same thing everyone else here is doing. I don’t want to get some shitty nine to five job and spend my life thinking of ways to better redecorate my family home, all the while hoping that I’ll have enough time to play golf during the weekend." I took a drag and exhaled. "Another American told me that when I first came here, and I couldn’t agree more."
"Yeah," Luke nodded in agreement. "I hear ya. The plight of modern man, huh?"
"Modern man, my ass. All of mankind since the dawn of civilization. Once you have enough to guarantee a roof over your head and food in your stomach for the next month. When you get those conditions, everyone thinks about this stuff... Well, I should say, at least everyone who actually thinks does."
Luke laughed. "Right. Why stay at home when there’s an entire world waiting to be explored?!"
"Exactly. And, I mean, at least we’re traveling. The family thing has been done. The nine to five job thing has been done. Come to think of it, the travel your entire life thing has been done too – but at least not as much."
"We can’t go on like this forever though."
"Yeah," I sighed, "I know. Trust me, I have no delusions. I’ll probably settle down some day, have a wife and 1.8 children – whatever the birthrate is at that time – and resign myself to mediocrity and redundancy until death comes along as a welcomed relief. But I’ll tell you what, man. I’m gonna try and put it off for as long as I can."
"Jesus, Paul. I mean, talk about your pessimism. But I do understand you."
"Hey, don’t get me wrong. At least I’ll have a lot of interesting stories and adventures to tell when the time comes!"
Luke smiled a bit, and then paused. "So, there have been forgotten generations. Fitzgerald was Lost. So were Hemmingway and Stein. And Kerouac and Ginsberg were both Beat. What the hell are we?"
"Fuck man, those are just adjectives for the same old shit that has been going on forever. You think some creative little word before ‘Generation’ makes me or you or them any different from the previous? Or us any different from what’s to come? So they had a war which we don’t and we have terrorism which they didn’t. We have DVDs, they had the Blues and Jazz." I took one last puff of my cigarette and snuffed it. "I’ll tell you what we are, Luke. We’re a generation. That’s it. A miserable, ambiguous, and indecisive group of people in their twenties and thirties unsure of anything except for what we had for breakfast – and sometimes not even that. Just like all the ones before us and all the ones to come. You can attach an adjective in front of ‘Generation’ it it’ll make you feel unique, like you belong to something new, if you want. But don’t kid yourself."
"That’s it then?" Luke cut in. "That’s all? Come on Paul. There’s more to life than just this shit you’re talking about. Some people actually know what they want from life. They know there’s a future. Something – a goal – worth working for. They’re happy to settle down and start a family. Or a career. Or something else. It inspires them. Living in our world inspires them!"
I wasn’t sure if Luke was serious or just playing devil’s advocate. I rolled my eyes and waited for him to continue his point. He must have been waiting for me to start. "Well, Luke," I interrupted the silence, "I have to get going soon. My class starts in thirty minutes and I sort of want to get a sandwich or something to eat beforehand."
"Yeah, me too." We both stood up and put on our jackets.
"Oh, before I forget. I’m going to some African wedding party or something with some guys that I know – Alpha, Kim, and Jordan – later on tonight. We can meet up before I go if you want. You’re more than welcome to come. Tell Char too."
"Cool, that sounds great. When you wanna meet?"
"Um, let’s say at Muzeum Metro station. Nine o’clock, okay?"
Luke agreed and told me he would ask Char if she wanted to come along as well. We paid for our coffee at the counter and headed our separate ways. Walking in search of a sandwich shop, though, I couldn’t help but think how, if at all, living here in the Czech Republic had changed my views on life. That conversation, those things I had told Luke, had all been firmly set in my brain before I left Philadelphia and worked my way over here. Was there room in my logic for these new individuals I had met? I was confident that Pavel, the Řepy gang, and my students fit my philosophical equation – despite the fact that they lived halfway across the world from where I was born. A global community... even in despondency. But what of the others? Those strange creatures I encountered every week at chess night, for example? Like Arthur and Jordan. What of the Dans and Kims of this world? Hell, maybe even Herman and Reinhard. I couldn’t be, and wasn’t so sure anymore. Luke’s words haunted me as I wandered through the streets of Prague that day. "Living in our world inspires them."
Alpha was originally from Mali. He had been raised in, by rural West African standards, a "middle-class" family in a medium sized town in the savanna. One of seven siblings, he had to start working at a very young age but was still allowed to continue his studies. Eventually, his parents fell on better times and, fortunately for Alpha, it coincided with his completion of secondary school. With a little help from his parents, a scholarship, and a favorable entrance exam result, he went off to study for the next few years at the Sorbonne. Alpha, for some odd reason, had always been fascinated by Eastern Europe and that healthy interest eventually matured into a degree in Slavic Studies. With a fluent command of Russian, he left Paris and made his way to the Soviet Union where he lived for a number of years in the late 80s and 90s. He told me that had had a great time with the Russian people. He had a stress-free job translating from French to Russian and vice versa and traveled all throughout that vast country whenever he had the opportunity. Once, when I was talking to him about how much I would love to take the Trans-Siberian Express, Alpha replied that it was an experience not to be missed. Over a week’s worth of continuous travel. Always moving. The landscape keeps changing and yet there you are – in the same train – from Moscow to Vladivostok. Alpha said it was full of Russian newlyweds. The trip through Siberia to the frozen northern waters of the Pacific and back was considered to be an ideal honeymoon. The only thing was that most of the passengers were just as interested in Alpha, if not more so, than what was going on outside of the train’s windows. Not only had most of them never actually seen a true, dark-as-night African before, but they had never expected one to speak perfect Russian either. Alpha loved telling stories about Russia. But, eventually, after the Soviet Union fell and capitalism took hold of the country, he decided it was time to leave. Alpha had tried to stay on after the fall of communism, but he just found that the standard of living and life in general were becoming more and more unbearable. And so, he left for Prague, in 1992 I believe, right after Czechoslovakia split into two countries, and had been living here ever since. By the time I met him, he was staying in Modřany, in the Dum, on the floor directly below me.
"Ahhh! Allô Kim and Paul! You are ready to party?" Alpha spoke in a thick French-African accent. His English wasn’t perfect – he had never formally studied it in school – but he had picked up more than enough just by living in the Dum, hanging out with English-speaking expats, and by taking the occasional private lesson.
Kim and I had been waiting for him in the TV room on the seventh floor. "Hey Alpha! I wanted to know if we could stop by Muzeum first before we go to the party," I asked.
"Bien entendu! Yes! It is near to the wedding party. Why?"
"Well, I just met an old friend from back home the other day. I don’t think he has much planned for tonight, so I was wondering if he and his girlfriend can also come with us. Do you think it’ll be a problem?"
Alpha laughed out loud and revealed his perfect white teeth. "In Mali, after the wedding, we say to the entier village to come! Two extra is nothing! Naturellement they come!" That was one thing about Alpha. He loved partying and, what’s more, he loved partying with as many people as possible.
"So, I guess we just need to wait for Jordan now," Kim said.
"No, no. I talk to Jordan on my telephone and he said to meet us outside the party." Alpha signaled us out of the TV room, "We go? Allons-y?" We put on our coats and left.
"Hey Alpha, what kind of party is this? It’s not like some formal wedding reception, is it?" I asked as we stood in the cold waiting for the bus. It was flurrying and there was a light dusting of snow on the ground.
"No, no. Not cérémonieux. Is informel. You see, in Mali, Senegal, and otha West Africa, we have a wedding and cérémonie for near relatives. Then EVERYONE," his eyes bulged as his mouth emphasized the word, "come to party until the morning. You see?"
"Wow. Cool. So who will be there?"
"ALL Africans from Prague. Students, teachers, workers. You will see Paul. Not only people from Mali but from EVERYWHERE!"
"Nice. I can’t wait!" I took my hands out of my pockets, rubbed them together, and blew in them. As I was warming myself, a group of three men walked by, checked the bus timetable, glanced at us, and waited a few feet away. They were pretty young and it looked like they were doing the same thing as us – preparing to party.
Suddenly, one of them made a monkey sound and the others chuckled. Another one started dancing around a bit like a chimpanzee and then they really broke out into laughter. Pretty soon, one of them had pulled the corner of his eyes towards his temples and was naming off as many Chinese dishes as he could think of. Their guffaws filled the silent night.
"Hey guys," I said to Kim and Alpha, who didn’t seem disturbed at all by what was going on, "that shit is completely uncalled for. Should we go say something to them? Tell them to fuck off?"
Alpha looked at the three young guys, who were still at it, and then replied to with a smile, "This is a big world Paul! They do not know of Afrique... or Asie. For them, is new. Exotique." He paused for a moment. "Is naturel to joking when you do not understand."
"Yeah... but..." I hesitated a bit, "Doesn’t that shit offend you?"
"Ahh Paul," Kim interrupted. "When you travel a lot more, you’ll see that there are only a few open-minded people in this world and then there’s the majority – those who just laugh at and mock what they don’t understand. It’s not that they’re bad, or evil... They’re just... well, I guess, normal."
"Exactement," Alpha said. "In Mali, in my village, we have no Europeéns. We look when we see them."
"Yeah. And some places in Korea the same thing. You should see how people in the smaller towns stare when they see not only a white person, but a black person. Ha! They drop everything!"
"Huh, I guess maybe you’re right," I replied despite the fact that I didn’t really believe it. I was raised in America – the land of political correctness. It’s difficult to see beyond your starting point. But that, I guess, is exactly what they were arguing.
"Many people can not imagine what is in this world," Alpha said in a grandfatherly tone. The bus pulled up to the stop just as he finished. Alpha turned to the boys and started speaking in perfect Czech to them. They were shocked, to say the least, and entered into a short but polite discussion with him. The bus’ doors closed, we grabbed three seats, and the boys went off to the back of the bus and sat there silently. "They can not imagine, for exemple, that a man from Mali can speak them perfectly in their language!"
We met Luke and Char at Muzeum and made off by foot for where the African wedding party was being held. Jordan, that long-haired, well-traveled Canadian that I knew so well from chess night, was waiting outdoors.
"Bonsoir! Just on time, ol’ buddy!" Jordan said to Alpha and hugged him hello. "Comment vas-tu? Bien?" he continued in French and Alpha replied. Apparently, the two had been friends for quite a long time.
We walked into the club – well, actually, it was one of those all-night laser bowling and entertainment places with a huge bar and dancefloor off to the side – and were astounded by the sheer mass of people inside. The place was packed. I far as I could tell too, we were the only non-Africans in the place. Alpha was still busy talking with some friends at the door who had let us in despite the fact that we didn’t have any invitation cards. We soon found an empty table and sat down. The waitress, a cute little Czech, came over and took our order. She seemed surprised to see us. She had probably never seen so many Africans before and, in the middle of them all, three Americans, a middle-aged Canadian hippie, and a Korean. Alpha soon joined us again.
"Eh Kim!" Alpha yelled over the thumping dance music, "I hear that you are to leave for Korea soon. Is it true?"
"Yeah," Kim replied, struggling to hear over the commotion. "In about a week."
"Why you are returning?" Alpha continued.
"Ah, well," Kim paused for a moment. "You know, I haven’t seen my parents in over five years now. And that’s just one of the reasons."
"Wow, is that true?" I struggled to have my voice heard. I don’t think it was.
"And you got a wife waitin’ over there for you too, eh bud?" Jordan was more successful than me.
Kim gave him a dirty glance. "I told you Jordan! She’s not my wife! You just don’t understand. Korean society is different. You’re expected to get married by your mid-twenties or else everyone thinks your some sort of social outcast." Kim took a long sip of beer and let out that hearty laugh that characterized him so well, "But fuck it! I’m not getting married anytime soon. I just want to see my parents and say hello to some old friends. Like I said... Ha! It’s been five years!"
"And after that?" Kim heard me this time.
He winked at me and, as rare as it was, gave me an authentic smile – not one of those boisterous forced laughs I had grown accustomed to, "Maybe, just maybe... There’s a place in this world where my guitar sounds even BETTER than it does here. But I’ll never know unless I look, will I?"
Alpha interrupted, "Forget it Kim, my friend. A woman waiting at home is no raison to forget you live!"
"Bien entendu! There’s an intellectual, buddy! Straight from the horse’s mouth! This guy knows what he’s talkin’ about!"
"Exactement, Jordan! You do not see that I am sitting at the Dum... waiting... because of my fiancée in Mali, do you!?" A young woman walked by and temporarily took Alpha’s eyes with her.
Luke and Char had been silent throughout the entire conversation, probably because they didn’t really know anyone at the table except me. But Char finally spoke up, clearly carrying her voice across the table and over the pounding dance music. "You have a fiancée in Mali, Alpha? How long she been waiting for ya?"
"I did not want to engaging her. I told her to not wait. But she is. What can I do? Six years now and I meet her once when home in Mali."
Char didn’t reply. She just sat there slightly agape and then turned to Luke in order to make sure he saw the look on her face. He just shrugged his shoulders and went back to drinking his beer, paying attention to the conversation unfolding before him.
"That’s it exactly, buddy! I said it once and I’ll say it again. It’s just a struggle for freedom. You see? That’s life. You gotta take some drastic measures if you wanna keep it some time." Both Kim and Alpha laughed in unison once Jordan had finished speaking.
"Very drastic, camarade!" Alpha exclaimed.
"Wait, Jordan. So you really did have a..." I spoke awkwardly with my hands.
"Vasectomy?" he completed my sentence for me. "Sure! The best thing I’ve ever did!" he added in Greek.
"Incredible..." I exhaled. Luke was really taken in by the conversation now. Char, as far as I could tell, still hadn’t shut her gaping mouth.
"Well, I’m not going that far! I’ll just tell my parents I don’t want to get married... yet, at least."
"Why not, Kim ol’ buddy? It’s the best thing I ever did. The most intellectual! Twenty-seven years of guaranteed freedom and not a single regret!"
"Twenty-seven? Hey Jordan, how old are you?" as my curiosity got the best of me.
"Fifty-eight years young, pal!" he said as a huge grin pierced through his graying beard and he raised his arm to form a biceps curl. He too his glass of orange juice (Jordan was a non-drinker and non-smoker) and downed it. "And I’ve never felt better!"
"Amen to this!" Alpha praised. "It is true for me as well! And seeing that there are many pretty filles here this night, I’m sorry to now go! Au revoir!" And with that, Alpha went off into the thick of the dancefloor, disappearing from our sight with his drink in one hand while his loose hips kept bumping into every pretty lady whose path he happened to cross.
"That Alpha, a real intellectual! I like how he thinks!" Jordan's eyes started wandering as well. "Hey Paul," he turned to me and started in Greek, "Many pretty woman here, and I have all the times and freedoms in the world!"
"Ha ha ha. You really are some character Jordan. Well said!"
"Exactly buddy!" and his eyes lit up.
We all just sat there for a while, in silence, looking at the party around us. It was quite a sight. It was quite a life. I felt good.
"Hey guys," Luke interrupted. "Char and I are gonna get some drinks from the bar. Y’all want anything?"
Kim and I both ordered another beer. Jordan was fine. My old college buddy and his girlfriend then disappeared into a crowd of festive-frenzy Africans.
"Hey Kim," I momentarily stopped my head from bobbing rhythmically to the music. "I can’t believe you only told me that you were leaving Prague only like a dozen days before you actually did it."
"Why not?" His head kept going to the beat.
"Why not?! Well, first of all, you’ve been my best friend here. We hang out all the time. We have tons of laughs together. You’re a great guy to hang out with."
"Thanks."
I couldn’t believe how indifferent he was to what I was saying, "And... like... You’ve been a great friend. More than anyone could ask for. You’ve taught me everything I need to know about this place – all the scams, all the ropes, where to go and when. I mean, you’ve shown me how the city runs, man!"
"Well, there you go," he finally turned to look at me. "You know what’s left for me to show you about Prague though?"
"No. What?"
"Guess."
"Here we go again. I don’t know."
"Ha! Come on! Guess!"
"I don’t know, Kim. Just tell me!"
"I can’t! That’s exactly it! Ha! There’s nothing left for me to show you about this place! So, there’s no need to worry. This is the traveler’s life. The life we’ve chosen. No regrets! Our journeys happened to run together for a while and who’s to say they won’t again? No need to worry, Paul!" He lifted his glass and nazdravíed me and Jordan’s empty juice glass.
"That’s some good stuff there, Kim! Ah, right... I see what you’re saying, bud."
"Besides," Kim leaned in close so that he wouldn’t have to speak over the music, "How else will you know how cheap the beer – and how much cheaper the women – can get if you don’t explore it on your own!"
Luke and Char soon came back with their drinks and the two extra beers. "Hey Paul, I think we saw that guy from the open-mike night on the dancefloor."
"What guy?" as I took my first refreshing gulp of that exquisite Czech beer. My throat was parched from all the heat being generated by those dancing bodies and the cigarettes I had smoked.
"Y’all know, the tall drunk guy with the mustache. The one who made an ass outta himself," Char replied.
Kim and I glanced at each other in astonishment. "Herman!!"
We quickly made our way to the bar area, which was slightly elevated above the rest of the club, and turned to take in our command of the dancefloor. We could see nothing but bodies pressed against each other and moving in a lively, graceful unison to whatever beats the DJ on the other side of the room was spinning on his turntable. A hundred bodies. At least. All dancing and bobbing their heads. Shaking their hands. Waving their arms. Gyrating their hips. And in the midst of that uniform ocean of rhythmic Negro complexions, we could clearly make out a single White man. His bald head, crooked nose, bushy mustache, and long lanky arms were dancing to a different beat altogether.
posted by G.C. PHILO at 6:14 AM
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