CHAPTER 4 - Settling In
"WELL, um, hello everyone. Good afternoon. More like evening I guess though. It’s only five o’clock but it’s so cloudy and dark outside that it looks like evening anyway, doesn’t it? That’s November weather for you, huh! Or I guess maybe it’s just Prague." All eight students stared at me blankly, then turned to each other and began muttering incomprehensibly in Czech. I walked towards the blackboard and wrote my name in big letters – just as I had seen so many of the teachers in my past do on their first day of class. "Well, that’s my name. I’m your English teacher for the next few months."
The same empty stares followed. I looked at the clock. One minute down, a hundred and forty nine more to go.
"So, um, why don’t we start by asking each other a few questions? What’s your name?"
"Josef," having hesitated a bit.
"Uh-huh. And, well, how long have you been learning English for?"
He smiled at me and said nothing.
"English. How long have you learned?" I repeated slowly.
"Yes, sorry. Maybe the five years."
"Uh-huh. And what do you do now? You look a little old to be a full-time student, but you never know. I mean, are you in college? Or do you work? Something like that?"
Again, nothing except for a smile.
I turned to the rest of the class and asked, "Am I speaking too fast? Do you understand me? Maybe it’s my American accent."
The cute brunette with the tight sweater spoke up. "A little fast. Accent is no problem. Maybe speak slow more?"
"OK. Now we’re getting somewhere. So, what is your name?"
"Veronika."
"OK, Veronika," as I stressed every syllable. "How long have you been studying English?"
"I have been studying for six years."
"Very good. Very good. And, well, let’s see... How old are you?"
"I am nineteen."
"Good, good! And do you work or study?"
"I am studying with my last year of the school. No work, maybe after the summer."
"Excellent. And why do you want to learn English?"
"Co?"
"What?"
"Yes."
"What ‘Yes’?"
"Yes. ‘Co?’ is ‘What?’ in Czech," she grinned.
"Oh, oh. Sorry. Um, why do you want to learn English?" I repeated slowly.
"Tak, English is important language. I need English for the work and the travel. English is world language also."
"Universal language, you mean."
"Co?"
"Yeah, well, never mind. World language. OK. Thank you, Veronika." I made my way to the teacher’s desk in front of the classroom and casually sat on it. "Um, let’s try and have a small conversation like that one with everyone. So, Josef. Back to you. As I said before – do you work or study?"
"Yes. Only studying English here. Now I am work in..."
"Am working," I interrupted.
"What?"
"‘I am working’ not ‘I am work’. You know the Present Continuous?"
"Ah, yes. Sorry. I am working in prison."
"Prison?"
"Yes. As guard person. I am security when are problems."
"Wow. That’s really interesting. Do you like it?"
"Yes. Of course. It is very nice job."
"I bet. So you must be able to rake in a lot of spare cash by pushing outside junk on the inmates. You ever beat one of them or make them take it from behind?"
"What? I do not understand."
"Nothing, nothing. Just a joke."
"Ah," that smile of his reappeared. "Yes, joke."
I went around the class in that fashion. All of my students, apart from Veronika, were older than me. There was Filip, a computer technician of some sorts who didn’t really like his job but, hey, it paid the bills. Lea, a beautiful Slovakian temptress in her mid-thirties, worked in a bank and spoke English slightly better than everyone else. Helena was a working mother with two teenage sons at home. Martina was going for her Master’s Degree in Financing and wanted to improve her foreign languages skills in order to work abroad someday. And finally, Stanislav and Iveta were both a year or two older than me, extremely shy, and severely lacking when it came to grammar. These would be my students for the next twenty-odd-some weeks... The first class I ever taught.
The two and a half hours went by rather fast as far as hindsight was concerned. First, I corrected any errors that the students made by reviewing a few basic grammatical rules on the blackboard. After that, we took a fifteen minute break and, finally, they asked me questions about myself as I taught them the proper way to form basic interrogatives. The clock struck half past seven. I dismissed the class, packed my bag, and got on the tram which began my forty-five minute journey to Modřany.
There was a twenty-four hour gas station/mini-mart a few minutes from the Dum. I bought a healthy dinner consisting of a pre-packaged cheese and picante dressing vegetarian baguette (Crocodille Mlsoun it was called) and a half liter bottle of beer. The TV room on the 8th floor was empty so I decided to eat my gourmet meal there. As I was finishing my beer and navigating my way through the television stations, an Asian man walked in and sat down.
"Hello."
"Hi."
"What are you looking for?"
"Some of that German porn."
"Naw, naw. It’s too early. That stuff doesn’t come on for at least another hour."
"Shit."
"Ha ha ha! What’s your name?"
"Paul. And you?"
"Kim. How long have you been here? I haven’t seen you before."
"In the Dum? Well, actually, this is only my second day here."
"A newcomer, eh? I’ve been here a few months. Who’s your roommate?"
"Dan. The Serbian guy."
"No. I don’t know him. He must be new too."
"I have no idea. But, let’s see... I did meet some guy Herman yesterday."
"Herman!" Kim sat up straight, crossed his legs, and let out a hearty laugh, "Ha ha! What did you think?"
"He talks a hell of a lot. But he seems like a nice guy though."
"And drink?"
"Yeah. He had a bottle of vodka and kept drinking it like it was milk."
"Ha ha ha! Herman. What a character! Did he tell you any stories?"
"Yeah, I guess. Sounds like he’s had an interesting life. Said he’s a published author and a journalist but that he’s teaching now."
"And California?" Kim interrupted.
"I think he said he studied there. Or maybe that he was born and lived there too, now that you mention it. But I also think he said he was Danish. Fuck. I’m not really that sure. I don’t remember exactly. He kept feeding me a lot of vodka."
"That Herman is quite a character! He’s got so many stories he gets them confused. I think he’s lying most of the time. Not sure yet though. And girls? Did he tell you about his girls?
"No. I don’t think so."
"No?! Guess what he says. Guess!"
"I have no idea. What?"
"Ha ha! He tells me he gets laid by a different girl every week! Sometimes two. All of them super gorgeous with big tits."
"Herman?!" A mental image wouldn’t form no matter how hard I tried. "But that guy didn’t look anything like a Casanova. I mean, his bald head, that shady moustache, and, God, those clothes he was wearing were..."
"Stop!! Ha ha ha! Stop!! I can’t take anymore! Herman! Ha ha ha!" as he got up from his chair. "I’m gonna get a beer from my room. I’ll be right back."
"Okay."
I sat down, rolled a cigarette, and enjoyed what beer I had left. Kim was soon in the TV room again.
"So, do you have a job?"
"Yeah, I’m a teacher," I replied.
"Ha, who isn’t? Me too. What school?"
"Elvis. Have you heard of it?"
"Of course. They’re not so good though."
"What do you mean?" I asked anxiously.
"I hear they hire and fire teachers all the time. You can’t depend on them too much."
"Shit, really?!"
"Yep. How much do they pay you?"
"220 korunas per forty-five minutes. Well, and they give me this place dirt cheap too."
"What?! That’s great! I make the same thing but for one hour. You teach company lessons?"
"No. All my lessons are in the same building."
"What?! No traveling to different offices. You really lucked out, Paul."
"Yeah. I guess."
"Oh, before I forget. Never teach more than twenty hours a week. You know why?"
I shrugged my shoulders.
"Cause you’ll go crazy!"
"Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on working more than fifteen anyway."
"Ha ha! Good!"
That first week at the Dum, I met about a half dozen other people. Kyle was from Vancouver and had also just moved to Prague. He loved playing chess – we would always play together – and hung out in the TV room with me often. Jacob, Kyle’s roommate, was new in the Czech Republic too. He was from Toronto and hardly ever spoke except for the occasional "Hey man, how are you?" There was Eric, an American from Chicago fresh out of Law School who had been teaching international law to Czech firms. Mikko, his roommate, was from Finland and, like most of us, also teaching English. Then there was Reinhard. He was older than all of us – late 40s to early 50s it seemed – American, had a huge red nose, and couldn’t hold an interesting conversation, or any conversation for that fact, longer than ninety seconds. Just like his roommate, Herman, he always had a bottle of liquor in his hands. I would meet more people as the weeks went on. These were simply the first. But Kim remained my closest friend throughout.
Kim had lived in the Czech Republic on and off since 1997. He knew all the ropes and had no qualms showing them to me. He guided me through all the different ways of getting to the Dum from the city center – by tram, Metro, or bus – and which were faster during which times of day. He showed me his favorite watering holes. He told me about the night tram so that I wouldn’t have to pay for a taxi if I ever came home after midnight. He told me where I could find great vegetarian meals. But most importantly, he advised me never to buy a ticket for public transportation unless I was absolutely in a hurry.
"You see, there are so many ways to avoid the ticket inspectors."
"I don’t understand. Don’t you have to show your ticket to the driver or buy one from him before you get on? That’s how it works in Philly."
"Same in Seattle. But not here. No way! They have validation machines and you’re supposed to stamp your ticket when you get on a bus or tram or when you step onto one of the Metro platforms."
"How do they know if you validate your ticket or not?"
"Well, that’s where it gets tricky. Ticket inspectors. They wear normal clothes, come up to you and show you an inspector’s badge. Then you have to show them your ticket or monthly pass."
"Uh-huh. And what if you don’t?"
"The fine is 400 korunas."
"400 korunas..." I paused "...Shit!" It wasn’t really that much in American dollars – a bit over ten – but I had to start thinking in terms of the country I was now living in. "Man! That’s around twenty beers at the pub!"
"Ha ha ha! I know! But never pay. There’s always some way out of it."
"Like how?"
"Use your imagination. Say you have no money. Tell them you forgot your pass at home. Anything."
"Yeah. Man. Okay. But what if they take you to the police?"
Kim laughed long and hard, "HA! HA! HA! The police?! Let me tell you about the police here. An inspector stopped me one time when I was leaving the Metro. I, of course, had no ticket and said all I had on me was 50 Korunas. Then I offered it to him. You know, like a bribe or something. Usually they take it, but this one didn’t. He said he was taking me to the police station upstairs. Trying to threaten me. Ha ha! So I said, ‘Let’s go!’ The inspector was surprised I wasn’t afraid but took me there anyway. We waited at the police for thirty minutes because there was a long line. Then, finally, a policeman came to the inspector and asked him what was wrong. I understand enough Czech to know what was happening. The inspector told him I didn’t have a ticket. Then guess what the policeman said. Guess."
"I have no idea. How am I supposed to know?"
"He told him to fuck off completely! He got really angry and let him have it! Said that he was too busy with paperwork and real criminals to worry about one stupid black-riding tourist. I had to control myself from laughing in his face when the inspector said to me, ‘Well, it’s very serious. The police say they will remember you and write a report. If they see you again with no ticket they might keep you here at the station. But they are feeling... very, very nice today and said for me to let you go with only a warning. You are lucky. But, careful! Not again!’ Ha ha! It was super!"
"Wow!! Maybe the inspector was new on the job?"
"I don’t know. Don’t care. It was super!"
"Incredible."
And so, my first fortnight in the Czech Republic came and went. I had made new acquaintances, new friends, and new students. The city itself was becoming more and more familiar as each day passed. I was also beginning to pick up a few basic words in Czech, despite the fact that the language as a whole is extremely complicated. I would thank the waiter when he bought me a pivo, beer, with a děkuju and learned how to insert a polite prosím, please, every now and then. Prague was slowly yet surely beginning to feel like home. I had a steady job, an apartment that I could afford, and new friends to drink with. The language barrier, as I said, was still an issue, my most significant obstacle, but at least I was attempting to overcome it. Optimism was on my side. And why wouldn’t it have been? I could, after only two weeks, form one of the most useful phrases any expat ever needs to know. Pivo, prosím.
The same empty stares followed. I looked at the clock. One minute down, a hundred and forty nine more to go.
"So, um, why don’t we start by asking each other a few questions? What’s your name?"
"Josef," having hesitated a bit.
"Uh-huh. And, well, how long have you been learning English for?"
He smiled at me and said nothing.
"English. How long have you learned?" I repeated slowly.
"Yes, sorry. Maybe the five years."
"Uh-huh. And what do you do now? You look a little old to be a full-time student, but you never know. I mean, are you in college? Or do you work? Something like that?"
Again, nothing except for a smile.
I turned to the rest of the class and asked, "Am I speaking too fast? Do you understand me? Maybe it’s my American accent."
The cute brunette with the tight sweater spoke up. "A little fast. Accent is no problem. Maybe speak slow more?"
"OK. Now we’re getting somewhere. So, what is your name?"
"Veronika."
"OK, Veronika," as I stressed every syllable. "How long have you been studying English?"
"I have been studying for six years."
"Very good. Very good. And, well, let’s see... How old are you?"
"I am nineteen."
"Good, good! And do you work or study?"
"I am studying with my last year of the school. No work, maybe after the summer."
"Excellent. And why do you want to learn English?"
"Co?"
"What?"
"Yes."
"What ‘Yes’?"
"Yes. ‘Co?’ is ‘What?’ in Czech," she grinned.
"Oh, oh. Sorry. Um, why do you want to learn English?" I repeated slowly.
"Tak, English is important language. I need English for the work and the travel. English is world language also."
"Universal language, you mean."
"Co?"
"Yeah, well, never mind. World language. OK. Thank you, Veronika." I made my way to the teacher’s desk in front of the classroom and casually sat on it. "Um, let’s try and have a small conversation like that one with everyone. So, Josef. Back to you. As I said before – do you work or study?"
"Yes. Only studying English here. Now I am work in..."
"Am working," I interrupted.
"What?"
"‘I am working’ not ‘I am work’. You know the Present Continuous?"
"Ah, yes. Sorry. I am working in prison."
"Prison?"
"Yes. As guard person. I am security when are problems."
"Wow. That’s really interesting. Do you like it?"
"Yes. Of course. It is very nice job."
"I bet. So you must be able to rake in a lot of spare cash by pushing outside junk on the inmates. You ever beat one of them or make them take it from behind?"
"What? I do not understand."
"Nothing, nothing. Just a joke."
"Ah," that smile of his reappeared. "Yes, joke."
I went around the class in that fashion. All of my students, apart from Veronika, were older than me. There was Filip, a computer technician of some sorts who didn’t really like his job but, hey, it paid the bills. Lea, a beautiful Slovakian temptress in her mid-thirties, worked in a bank and spoke English slightly better than everyone else. Helena was a working mother with two teenage sons at home. Martina was going for her Master’s Degree in Financing and wanted to improve her foreign languages skills in order to work abroad someday. And finally, Stanislav and Iveta were both a year or two older than me, extremely shy, and severely lacking when it came to grammar. These would be my students for the next twenty-odd-some weeks... The first class I ever taught.
The two and a half hours went by rather fast as far as hindsight was concerned. First, I corrected any errors that the students made by reviewing a few basic grammatical rules on the blackboard. After that, we took a fifteen minute break and, finally, they asked me questions about myself as I taught them the proper way to form basic interrogatives. The clock struck half past seven. I dismissed the class, packed my bag, and got on the tram which began my forty-five minute journey to Modřany.
There was a twenty-four hour gas station/mini-mart a few minutes from the Dum. I bought a healthy dinner consisting of a pre-packaged cheese and picante dressing vegetarian baguette (Crocodille Mlsoun it was called) and a half liter bottle of beer. The TV room on the 8th floor was empty so I decided to eat my gourmet meal there. As I was finishing my beer and navigating my way through the television stations, an Asian man walked in and sat down.
"Hello."
"Hi."
"What are you looking for?"
"Some of that German porn."
"Naw, naw. It’s too early. That stuff doesn’t come on for at least another hour."
"Shit."
"Ha ha ha! What’s your name?"
"Paul. And you?"
"Kim. How long have you been here? I haven’t seen you before."
"In the Dum? Well, actually, this is only my second day here."
"A newcomer, eh? I’ve been here a few months. Who’s your roommate?"
"Dan. The Serbian guy."
"No. I don’t know him. He must be new too."
"I have no idea. But, let’s see... I did meet some guy Herman yesterday."
"Herman!" Kim sat up straight, crossed his legs, and let out a hearty laugh, "Ha ha! What did you think?"
"He talks a hell of a lot. But he seems like a nice guy though."
"And drink?"
"Yeah. He had a bottle of vodka and kept drinking it like it was milk."
"Ha ha ha! Herman. What a character! Did he tell you any stories?"
"Yeah, I guess. Sounds like he’s had an interesting life. Said he’s a published author and a journalist but that he’s teaching now."
"And California?" Kim interrupted.
"I think he said he studied there. Or maybe that he was born and lived there too, now that you mention it. But I also think he said he was Danish. Fuck. I’m not really that sure. I don’t remember exactly. He kept feeding me a lot of vodka."
"That Herman is quite a character! He’s got so many stories he gets them confused. I think he’s lying most of the time. Not sure yet though. And girls? Did he tell you about his girls?
"No. I don’t think so."
"No?! Guess what he says. Guess!"
"I have no idea. What?"
"Ha ha! He tells me he gets laid by a different girl every week! Sometimes two. All of them super gorgeous with big tits."
"Herman?!" A mental image wouldn’t form no matter how hard I tried. "But that guy didn’t look anything like a Casanova. I mean, his bald head, that shady moustache, and, God, those clothes he was wearing were..."
"Stop!! Ha ha ha! Stop!! I can’t take anymore! Herman! Ha ha ha!" as he got up from his chair. "I’m gonna get a beer from my room. I’ll be right back."
"Okay."
I sat down, rolled a cigarette, and enjoyed what beer I had left. Kim was soon in the TV room again.
"So, do you have a job?"
"Yeah, I’m a teacher," I replied.
"Ha, who isn’t? Me too. What school?"
"Elvis. Have you heard of it?"
"Of course. They’re not so good though."
"What do you mean?" I asked anxiously.
"I hear they hire and fire teachers all the time. You can’t depend on them too much."
"Shit, really?!"
"Yep. How much do they pay you?"
"220 korunas per forty-five minutes. Well, and they give me this place dirt cheap too."
"What?! That’s great! I make the same thing but for one hour. You teach company lessons?"
"No. All my lessons are in the same building."
"What?! No traveling to different offices. You really lucked out, Paul."
"Yeah. I guess."
"Oh, before I forget. Never teach more than twenty hours a week. You know why?"
I shrugged my shoulders.
"Cause you’ll go crazy!"
"Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on working more than fifteen anyway."
"Ha ha! Good!"
That first week at the Dum, I met about a half dozen other people. Kyle was from Vancouver and had also just moved to Prague. He loved playing chess – we would always play together – and hung out in the TV room with me often. Jacob, Kyle’s roommate, was new in the Czech Republic too. He was from Toronto and hardly ever spoke except for the occasional "Hey man, how are you?" There was Eric, an American from Chicago fresh out of Law School who had been teaching international law to Czech firms. Mikko, his roommate, was from Finland and, like most of us, also teaching English. Then there was Reinhard. He was older than all of us – late 40s to early 50s it seemed – American, had a huge red nose, and couldn’t hold an interesting conversation, or any conversation for that fact, longer than ninety seconds. Just like his roommate, Herman, he always had a bottle of liquor in his hands. I would meet more people as the weeks went on. These were simply the first. But Kim remained my closest friend throughout.
Kim had lived in the Czech Republic on and off since 1997. He knew all the ropes and had no qualms showing them to me. He guided me through all the different ways of getting to the Dum from the city center – by tram, Metro, or bus – and which were faster during which times of day. He showed me his favorite watering holes. He told me about the night tram so that I wouldn’t have to pay for a taxi if I ever came home after midnight. He told me where I could find great vegetarian meals. But most importantly, he advised me never to buy a ticket for public transportation unless I was absolutely in a hurry.
"You see, there are so many ways to avoid the ticket inspectors."
"I don’t understand. Don’t you have to show your ticket to the driver or buy one from him before you get on? That’s how it works in Philly."
"Same in Seattle. But not here. No way! They have validation machines and you’re supposed to stamp your ticket when you get on a bus or tram or when you step onto one of the Metro platforms."
"How do they know if you validate your ticket or not?"
"Well, that’s where it gets tricky. Ticket inspectors. They wear normal clothes, come up to you and show you an inspector’s badge. Then you have to show them your ticket or monthly pass."
"Uh-huh. And what if you don’t?"
"The fine is 400 korunas."
"400 korunas..." I paused "...Shit!" It wasn’t really that much in American dollars – a bit over ten – but I had to start thinking in terms of the country I was now living in. "Man! That’s around twenty beers at the pub!"
"Ha ha ha! I know! But never pay. There’s always some way out of it."
"Like how?"
"Use your imagination. Say you have no money. Tell them you forgot your pass at home. Anything."
"Yeah. Man. Okay. But what if they take you to the police?"
Kim laughed long and hard, "HA! HA! HA! The police?! Let me tell you about the police here. An inspector stopped me one time when I was leaving the Metro. I, of course, had no ticket and said all I had on me was 50 Korunas. Then I offered it to him. You know, like a bribe or something. Usually they take it, but this one didn’t. He said he was taking me to the police station upstairs. Trying to threaten me. Ha ha! So I said, ‘Let’s go!’ The inspector was surprised I wasn’t afraid but took me there anyway. We waited at the police for thirty minutes because there was a long line. Then, finally, a policeman came to the inspector and asked him what was wrong. I understand enough Czech to know what was happening. The inspector told him I didn’t have a ticket. Then guess what the policeman said. Guess."
"I have no idea. How am I supposed to know?"
"He told him to fuck off completely! He got really angry and let him have it! Said that he was too busy with paperwork and real criminals to worry about one stupid black-riding tourist. I had to control myself from laughing in his face when the inspector said to me, ‘Well, it’s very serious. The police say they will remember you and write a report. If they see you again with no ticket they might keep you here at the station. But they are feeling... very, very nice today and said for me to let you go with only a warning. You are lucky. But, careful! Not again!’ Ha ha! It was super!"
"Wow!! Maybe the inspector was new on the job?"
"I don’t know. Don’t care. It was super!"
"Incredible."
And so, my first fortnight in the Czech Republic came and went. I had made new acquaintances, new friends, and new students. The city itself was becoming more and more familiar as each day passed. I was also beginning to pick up a few basic words in Czech, despite the fact that the language as a whole is extremely complicated. I would thank the waiter when he bought me a pivo, beer, with a děkuju and learned how to insert a polite prosím, please, every now and then. Prague was slowly yet surely beginning to feel like home. I had a steady job, an apartment that I could afford, and new friends to drink with. The language barrier, as I said, was still an issue, my most significant obstacle, but at least I was attempting to overcome it. Optimism was on my side. And why wouldn’t it have been? I could, after only two weeks, form one of the most useful phrases any expat ever needs to know. Pivo, prosím.
posted by G.C. PHILO at 11:01 PM
1 Comments:
good story. i like.
but it gets *a little* too kisch... too "this is something special" sometimes.
but i'm enjoying the read
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