enough

i went to the post office today to pay my phone and cable bills. and to buy some stamps. i've been sending cards to the states and i think it's nicer to have a stamp on each one than a big post office printed thing. it's similar to how they do it in the US. so, since i was thinking about it, i decided to buy 15 stamps for the cards i have sitting at home waiting to be written.

i haven't bought stamps in a while so i asked the woman how much was a stamp for a letter to the US. 18kc. great. i'll take 15. she gave me a look and said, ok, let me take care of your bills first. no problem.

after the bills are done she takes down the big book of stamps every teller has. it's not like in the states where they have them in books of 20 or rolls of 100. nope. each teller has this big (bigger than legal size--it's like a coffee-table book) book of heavy paper with stamps of varying denominations paper-clipped to the pages. this is true in every post office i've ever been in here.

at the main post office there's a special window just for stamps where you can buy all kinds of all denominations. again, more common to buy one or two or four than 100. at my post office, you have to go through a special door to do anything in bulk. but i only wanted 15. that's not bulk. right?

so the teller finds the 18kc stamps. and she says something about how 15 is quite a lot and did i really need that many. before i knew what we were working with, i said, well, maybe 10. she kind of screwed up her face in dislike. but then she found the right stamps. and it didn't look like too many...until she unfolded the second page and lo, there were more than 40! she asked again, how many? and i said, well, 15. you've got plenty. again with the discomfort on her face. as if i was taking something precious from her. reluctantly she tore off half the page and returned the other 20 or so to their clip in the book.

what happened there? are tellers specifically instructed to sell as few stamps as possible? keep as many in the book as you can. we'll be grading you on how few you sell and how many you retain. this is all you get for the month. if you run out, you'll be humiliated into asking other tellers to dig into their own books to help you out, and you don't want to do that. because there's not enough.

i think that's key. not enough. i think that's a basic principle in this country. for many decades there really was never enough, and now that there is, no one knows how to deal with it. my local grocery store regularly runs out of milk and sugar and eggs. if i run over on a sunday evening, i can't be sure i'll find milk. no kidding. somehow they haven't gotten the hang of ordering the right amount. that, or they just don't bother to put it out.

but there is enough. there are certainly enough stamps. there is certainly enough milk. but someone wants people to believe there isn't. i don't know what it is. keep the people frustrated? don't bother running a store or post office well? don't try to serve the people? fight them at every turn when they want something you think they shouldn't have?

it's not uncommon here to be scorned by a waiter, shop assistant, post office teller. why? we need each other to conduct our business. they have something i want. i have something they want. why are they so mad at me?

getting back to enough. i read an article about the idea of enough a while back. i wish i remember where. but it talked about the idea that, if we all realized there was enough of what we need or want in this world, we wouldn't be in such a hurry to trample other people to try to get it faster. complicated to try to tell this to people starving in africa or without medicine in asia, i know. but, for us westerners who really do have enough. why do we always think we don't?

goodwill

i wasn't in europe on 9/11. i moved over here a brief month later. i'd lived in prague before and was somewhat surprised at the goodwill feelings shown toward americans and the desire to hear our stories about that day. most people liked america then (clinton had been adored) but this was at a level beyond the norm.

that didn't last very long. i'm not really sure when it changed, but certainly by the start of the war in iraq in early 2003 people in europe didn't display such good feelings toward america.

within a couple years i was constantly asked my opinion on the war (this has waned in the last 2 or so years for some reason), and my opinion on bush (laughter always ensued when i said i didn't think he was an idiot). and most europeans i talked to, while they still enjoyed the company of american people, had nothing nice to say about america as a whole and her government, specifically.

it's hard to explain what i'm feeling today. watching tv and reading stories online and seeing people around the world (and not just the expats living elsewhere) celebrating...what? american government?! it's unreal. and i can't help but compare it to 9/11.

i heard someone say that, on 9/11, everyone in the world felt the pain and all were new yorkers. i feel the same now, that the world is proud of america and everyone wants to share in the joy of what we have done. something great has happened and everyone wants to participate.

and, just as after 9/11, decisions were made and that goodwill swirled down the drain, there are choices to be made. and this goodwill will either continue or it will slip through our fingers. i hope obama makes good decisions. i hope that having a president with the middle name Hussein will indeed make radical islamists think twice about the evil of america. i hope that our country, which has been gashed and slashed by divisive and deceitful politics, can heal and come together.

we'll have to see.

Vote.

i don't write that often anyway, but i've been avoiding writing about this election. well, barring that sarah palin thing. couldn't help it. mostly i've been avoiding it because i've been angry.

for months i have been receiving emails from family and friends. emails filled with lies, untruths and half-truths. all generated with the purpose of scaring people away from this man obama.

i can't watch pundits; i can't watch mccain or palin anymore either. i can't take sarah's snarky sarcasm (from someone well-versed in sarcasm). i can't handle mccain's exaggerations and anger.

i've lived overseas for most of bush's presidency. which doesn't mean i haven't felt the pain. i've defended my country countless times and regularly asked people to consider a perspective other than their own before judging. i've offered a different viewpoint and asked them to think about it.

i grew up in an extremely republican county (dupage) situated right next to an extremely democratic county (cook) in illinois. i considered myself republican and voted accordingly for most of my voting career. it made sense to me. or at least didn't seem offensive to me.

that has changed.

i have my thoughts about abortion, taxes, healthcare, greed, joe the plumber, socialism, muslims, same-sex marriage and everything else that has been thrown at us. and i don't want to talk about it any more, frankly.

our country has been so divided by race, by age, by education level, by coast, by state color, by religion, by ______. i feel it when i'm there and i can see it from here. i'm saddened that mccain and palin would resort to calling some of america the real america and letting the rest of the country wonder what part of america they are in, then. i'm saddened when people who want to see change in america and criticize where it currently stands are called unpatriotic or un-american.

cornel west said something like this: loving america is like being in a marriage. you don't always like it. but you love it. you say what is wrong because you love it and want it to be the best it can be. i think that criticizing what you see as wrong and doing something to change it is the most american thing you can do. it's in our blood. it's how we got to be americans. (it's what those prop-8 supporters are doing but don't like when others do.)

our country needs to heal from these last 8 years of darkness, lies, division, hatred and fear.

i don't see mccain as capable of helping that healing. he doesn't even see the need or he'd realize he's making the gashes deeper.

i wasn't convinced that barack obama was capable of helping, either. but i've listened to him talk. i've seen the other people who listen to him talk. i see that he's thoughtful, careful, a thinker. we haven't had that in 8 years.

i don't think i'll agree with or like everything he does if he is elected. i think he'll make mistakes and joe biden will keep putting his foot in his very big mouth.

but i think he can be the president who starts america down the road toward healing and unity, and who brings us back to the global stage as a model and not a cautionary tale.

let's not be afraid. let's refuse to be manipulated into fear. we need not fear who know Peace.

on sarah palin

so, i've been thinking about this a lot and have decided to weigh in on the sarah palin circus, because i have a perspective that i haven't heard anyone else mentioning.

now, to start, i agree with barack obama and others who are saying family is off-limits and should not be a factor in people deciding whom to vote for. and i think it's ridiculous to blame sarah for bristol and levi's stupidity and carelessness. we all know that parents of 17-year-olds can't possibly control their every move. you raise them as well as you can, but they start making their own decisions and some of them are pretty stupid. (topic for another day=why teaching only abstinence is also careless. you'd think kids would know by now that, if you're going to have sex, for pete's sake use a condom. correctly. clearly, they don't. oh, and even nice Christian kids who go to church and all that are also having sex. it's a fact. realize you have to deal with it!)

sarah palin's qualifications or lack thereof for vice president do not begin or end with her abilities as a mother or the dumb things her kids do. running a country is hardly the same thing. this i can agree with and stand behind.

and as to dr laura's claim that palin should never have been picked because her responsibility is to her family first and that will be a hard call should she have to choose... well, plenty of women are able to find a way to make it work. not all can juggle it well, but it's not up to me to decide how much time she gives her kids--won't her husband be there for the kids, anyway? this sounds like a copout as i write it, and, while i'm inclined to think dr laura has a point, i'm not sure i can fully stand behind her on it.

no, my problem with sarah palin is this: how dare she thrust her daughter bristol and her out-of-wedlock pregnancy into the international spotlight like this? i keep hearing that this is a family matter and the family should be allowed to deal with it in private. yes, i agree. but clearly sarah did not. she knew her daughter was pregnant; she knew it would become news, all her 'how dare you's notwithstanding; she knew that everyone in the world with access to CNN would know the names bristol and levi, and be able to pick them out of a lineup. (honestly, i can't believe i do. i would never have known which kid had which phoenix-familyish name except for the pregnancy and poor trig.)

the one to blame here is mommy sarah. had the family already been on the campaign trail before the pregnancy, that would be one thing. but sarah knew about the pregnancy, knew what would happen, and pressed on with her own agenda anyway.

how mortifying must it be for bristol? she's 17 and pregnant, and now the whole world knows it. she was probably dreading the day she'd start to show and her friends would notice it. now, bump or no bump, we all know about it.

and this levi kid gets flown down to the lower-48 to be trotted out with the others so he can hold bristol's hand through the whole thing. ugh.

sarah palin is a young woman. she's in her early 40s. if she is such a valuable and clear choice for a running mate, she would certainly be asked again in 4 or 8 years. and then this mess with bristol would be completely behind us and just a footnote to her mother's life, instead of one of many sideshows. her time did not have to be right now.

i think it's rotten that sarah palin would knowingly subject her 17-year-old daughter to such intense scrutiny and publicity about her pregnancy. it's one thing for 600k in alaska to know the story; it's another completely for everyone with a tv on earth to know about it. (and don't tell me she couldn't know that; that's what they pay teams of people millions of dollars to know in advance.) this was a mother's decision and she placed her own career before the emotional and psychological health of her underaged child. ugh.

and, while i'm on the subject, i might as well say what i think about bristol and levi marrying. don't do it, kids. you're too young. this is such a brilliant possibility for demonstrating the beauty and selflessness of adoption. so you won't abort? great. but don't ruin your lives. give the baby to a couple who are ready for a child and have the resources, emotionally and financially, to care for it. that would be beautiful and a real power move for the pro-life folks to show that there's a third option beyond aborting or keeping for youself.

tell me all you like about how hard it is to give up a child you've carried for 9 months. i believe it. i've never heard anyone saying adoption is easy for the bio mom. but it's about the child, isn't it? abortion might be a selfish choice, but so is keeping a child you're not ready for.

dreams

a friend of mine cut me out of his life almost two years ago now. it was the weirdest thing: we had recently talked on the phone while i was in prague and he knew i was coming to the US in a few weeks. when i arrived and called him, i got his voicemail. he never returned that call or any of the other messages i left during those weeks.

i kept giving him the benefit of the doubt that he was really busy or something...but he was usually good about calling me back.

then i talked with a mutual friend, who said casually, oh, he's cut you out of his life. he did it to me. i never thought he'd do it to you.

neither did i.

in an episode of 'friends,' the subject of cutting friends out of one's life comes up. it's played out through secrets revealed, hurt feelings, reconciliation, and through it all...humor. i have to say, i haven't found any humor in this.

i've been friends with this guy for almost eleven years. he was the first high school student i met when i was in the process of going on staff with the local church youth group. he was a senior then and lived close to my parents (where i was living) and struck me as a very intelligent, savvy kid. so the youth pastor suggested he help me and another friend plan a game that was to be our big introduction to the youth group.

we were immediately buddies. there wasn't anything inappropriate about our relationship, but we were very close. we understood each other. we'd talk about his girlfriends, culture, God, the future, my desire for life in prague, everything we were going through. he'd sometimes show up at my office in san francisco. i loved that. he would never sign in at reception--he'd just walk in like he owned the place and surprise me at my cube.

he shared a lot with me about his struggles pleasing and being understood by his parents. we had a lot of long, deep conversations. like i said, we were close.

then he joined the marines. i was part of the group that went to his boot-camp graduation in san diego. we were so proud of him standing there like a post in the pouring rain, shouting back to his drill instructor.

i was with him the day he sold his little black honda prelude. he called it negrito and he was sad to sell it, but he was shipping out for hawaii. that day he gave me the drum key from his own keychain. he wasn't going to be playing the drums much anymore.

while he was in hawaii i spent about 9 months in prague--through a very cold winter and difficult work and living situations. i discovered a cheapish way to call him and we spent lots of time on the phone through those long months. we understood well each other's loneliness and separation from the life we knew. he was a lifeline for me then.

by the time he finished with the marines i had spent a year in the US and was already back in prague, living here full-time--with a great job and a good place to live. his last year in hawaii he'd become less communicative and, by the time he was done with his four years, only rumors about his whereabouts moved through the groups of people who knew him.

i, and others, completely lost track of him.

then, about 4 years ago maybe, a friend of mine heard he was working in a restaurant in the town where my mom lives. so, while i was in town, we went to the restaurant. sure enough, there he was. and happy to see us. at least i thought so. i knew i was ecstatic to finally see him again.

over the next two years, we'd get together every time i was in town. we'd go for coffee; i went to lit. class with him once (he was getting his degree on the GI bill); we'd have long philosophical conversations. during one of those visits a mutual friend killed himself. my friend and i were, like everyone we knew, shocked, and we talked a lot about it together. there were times he'd be less communicative, and i'd have to show up at his place in order to talk with him.

i knew my good friend wasn't really happy. he always seemed to be, but also sort of not, to me. his years as a marine had, naturally, changed him tremendously. he didn't see the world or people the same way he did when he went in. he didn't think about God in the same way, either. he was determined (and said this to me) to kill the person he'd once been. it wasn't who he wanted to be. this made me sad, because i had dearly loved that other person, and i still saw him in my friend--it wasn't going to be easy to erase him away.

from prague we would carry on long discussions about life, relationships, philosophical ideas. i on my balcony looking at the stars through the long night hours, he at juice bars, coffee houses, wherever. we often disagreed, but in a friendly way. even when he got freaky about something and spent some months without communicating, he'd come back, and usually share something he'd written with me.

so the cutting off came as a surprise.

the mutual friend who named what he had done theorized that things had gotten too real with me: my dad had cancer and it had really changed our relationship for the better, but it wasn't certain how he would respond to treatment. i talked with my friend about this regularly.

i thought that strange, considering our deep conversations, but let it go.

i actually think that cutting me out was part of the necessary process to killing the man he had been. i was a close reminder of that. and i kept believing he was still there and encouraged it. but that's not who he wants to be. he wants to be a man without friends (maybe a couple marine buddies still, but not the married ones)--just drinking partners, bodies to share a bed with, co-workers, whatever. not anyone close, and not anyone who knew him when.

he's an asshole and that's who he wants to be.

i ran into another mutual friend the last time i was in the US and we talked about the marine. this other friend really misses him, too. i'm going to see him and his wife when i'm in town this winter. i'm hopeful we can track the marine down again.

last night/early this morning i dreamed about him. it's slightly hazy how the dream went. i know he kept disappointing me with his actions in the dream. he was wasting his life, his talents (of which he has many), his love on unworthy things in my dream. and i was sad. finally he talked with me. wrapped his iron-like arms around me and talked with me.

i would give a lot for a moment like that: to hug him and talk with him. listen to him and love him.

and my keys are still held together by the drum key.

chocolate chips and marriage

i love the internationalness of life in prague. tonight i went to a friend's place to make christmas cookies. we made chocolate chocolate chip cookies (too sweet for me), sugar cookies (we frosted them with nutella!) and vanilla crescents, which are czech, and very similar to russian teacakes (which is what my family called them), but shaped like...crescents. delish.

the friend who hosted the evening is karla. she's costa rican. a lawyer educated at duke, she works for a multinational company and has been in prague for 9 months. she loves to text me at 8pm, asking if we can meet for a drink at 9 or 10. invariably i'm in my pajamas early that night. but i love her so i drag myself out again. and we always share some good laughs.

[this happened last night. but i had to go out anyway to pay a bill i'd neglected to pay while the regular post office was open--that's where i pay bills--so i had to go to the all-night one in the center. which put me in the two biggest squares of prague just as the mikulaš stuff was winding down. i totally forgot that the čerts (see yesterday's post) are all ratty and raggedy AND done up in a sort of crude blackface. they are scary. i waited in line for a langoše--like a funnel cake but not sweet and with garlic butter, ketchup and cheese on top; sort of a poor man's pizza: yum--behind one and i could see where the screams come from.]

anyway. it was really funny to me to hear karla rail about the lack of chocolate chips for sale in stores here. apparently she scoured her grocery store for one and was miffed that they didn't have any. honey, nobody has them here. ok, except culinaria, but their prices are highway robbery. so i told her we'd just do what everyone always does: chop up good chocolate.

the other guests were colleagues of hers. three czechs, a young woman recently arrived from the philippines, and a czech-canadian who was born here but raised in toronto. fun!

we talked about all kinds of things and someone asked my opinion on the war. i hate being asked this.

[this reminds me that i went to a new class at the high school today. great class of 15- to 16-year-olds. one student asked if i had any friends here. this is in the same breath as acknowledging that i've been here about 7 years. and i'm always incredulous when asked that question. seriously? do i have friends? where i've lived for 7 years? do you think i'm going to say no? what if i did? would that be ok with you? would you have friends if you lived in a foreign country for 7 years? yes, yes i do. i don't think i could survive without my friends. i'm ALWAYS curious at the rationale for that question. i want to scream at them for some reason. i never do. i'm always nice.]

anyway. we talked a lot about czech culture and american culture and for some reason i got defensive of the US on certain things. i think i hate when people point out the ignorance world-wise of americans without considering their own (example: most europeans have no idea what state chicago is in). we're just a bigger target, i guess. but it wasn't meant meanly or badly.

and then i was asked the question i am always asked: so, are you going to stay here forever?

this time, it was followed with the option: or do you have any plans? i like when that's there, because that's my answer: no, i don't have any plans. i figure there has to be something between 7 years and forever. if something better comes along i'll consider it. for now, i'm doing what i love....... my answer is usually something like that. maybe just in a different order.

and then.

ahhhh, one of the czechs (a married man--the only married person in the group; only male ,too) says. you want to fall in love with a man, get married and.... and here he trailed off.

no, i said firmly, there's no man in my decision-making equation.

what? exclaimed the czech-canadian with alarm, as she spun around to face me (she's engaged). you don't want to get married???

i didn't say that. i'm just not waiting to plan my life until i get married. i'm not waiting for a man so i can do something.

*sigh*

why is it that a woman--generally of a certain age, although this has been happening to me for years, and i KNOW no one in that room pegged me within 5 years of my age--can't make a comment about not basing her life and decisions around whether or not she is dating/engaged/married/looking hungrily for a mate without a cry of alarm and the nearly verbatim wide-eyed question: you don't want to get married?

*sigh*

why can't i celebrate my freedom, time, spontaneity, healthy relationships, etc., etc., while i have them as a single woman? most of my honest married friends realize they didn't enjoy their singleness as much as they wish they did. they didn't realize: they still get lonely, they can't just do what they want when they want, marriage is hard, they don't have time for things they used to have time for, etc., etc.

i have nothing against marriage. on the contrary: it's a miraculous, beautiful thing. but. i have a huge thing against the married folks who think everyone needs to be like them to be their friend. i have a huge thing against those who secretly think my singleness is my punishment for something or because i'm lacking somewhere spiritually or emotionally. i have a huge thing against anyone who doesn't realize that the relationships i have with students wouldn't really be possible if i were married with a brood of kids.

it's not that i don't want to get married. i actually find that question absurd and unanswerable. one doesn't marry in the abstract. one marries another person. the only reasonable question is: don't you want to get married to ______? or: why aren't you married to _____? when you feel confident inserting a name, we can talk. i'd be happy to tell you why i'm not married to mike. or steve. or erez.

so why not celebrate where each of us finds ourselves in life, huh?

bake some cookies and enjoy the sweetness. don't ask why the hands that made them don't have a certain ring on them.

st. mikulaš

since it got dark this evening, at around 5, i've been treated to sounds of firecrackers and shouts echoing around the walls of my sidliště.

before i continue, bear with me as i discuss this word, sidliště. it is most commonly translated as 'housing estate,' which might make sense to a person from the UK, but makes no sense to a North American. i hear the phrase 'housing estate' and i think Tara or something similar: some sprawling compound like the bushes have in kennebunkport or the kennedys have in massachusetts. or, yeah, like scarlett's home. anyway, that's not at all what sidliště means. it's the word for the groups of prefab concrete blocks of flats that mar the landscape of most central and eastern european countries. built up primarily in the 80s and 90s and touted as living utopias, many are now in major need of repair. mine's mostly fine, although the old windows let in mighty drafts and the walls tend toward major cracks. but it's standard living conditions here, and many are extremely nice inside, thanks to money poured into renovation (God bless my landlord for making mine very comfortable). but they look like the projects of North America's big cities from the outside.

don't you agree? (this is a view from my balcony...mine is a mirror of this)


anyway. it wasn't my intention to discourse about sidliště today.

the fireworks, yelling and general commotion are because today is St. Mikulaš day here in czech. i suppose i should like it, since it's the closest thing the czechs have to halloween (one of my very favorite days of the year--what's not to like about a costume and sugar OD?). but i'm not sure. this evening, all over the country, young people dressed as St. Mikulaš (looks like a pope, tall hat and everything), čert (a devil-looking character) and anděl (an angel) walk around together in their rather odd groups of three. they go to the homes of small children (usually homes of family friends, but there have been papers around advertising triplets for hire for a couple weeks), or they congregate in town or local squares (most commonly the center squares of prague).

this is where it gets fuzzy for me what exactly their purpose is. i'm pretty sure candy is given to the little ones. the čert is meant to scare them; the anděl either just looks pretty and Mikulaš gives them the candy or the other way around. i don't really know how it goes. but sometimes only Mikulaš shows up--the čert is usually pretty scary for young eyes and parents don't want to provoke screams if they can help it. (here is where i'd like to give kudos to my wonderful niece kaitlyn, who apparently wanted nothing to do with the santa claus at the mall where my mom took her. only 2, and already knows what's up.)

i mention all this because it's yet another sign that God was, at some point in the not-too-distant past in this country, a significant part of how they did things. i realize i don't know the traditions surrounding the Mikulaš stuff, but my bigger point would be: neither do the czechs i know. everyone just knows it's a time to dress up, scare a couple naughty kids, give candy to some nice ones, and maybe do a shot or two with the parents before heading to the next flat. or at least make a hundred crowns or so ($5-ish) for your trouble.

but you can't tell me that there isn't huge religious (read: Christian) significance behind a motley crew of a popish saint, a devil and an angel. no one else lumps those guys together.

like other things, the tradition has remained. bastardized though it may be, it is still recognizable in its roots.

the czechs may think they're done with God, but holding on to such traditions, secular now though they may seem, says something different to me. they might argue that point and they're welcome to it.

but God's definitely not gone, and he's definitely not done with them.

which reminds me: welcome back, jan hus! i'm glad to see the škoda screen gone, for christmas anyway. i've missed you.

so much hate!

i had a subscription to vanity fair magazine for a few years a while back. i loved the hollywood issue and lots of the fascinating articles. i still have the one from 1997 with princess diana on the cover--one of the last shoots she did before her death.

that's where i first encountered christopher hitchens. i wish i could remember examples of his articles i liked, but i can't. i'd have to do a little research for that and i don't feel like it. i do, however, know that i read enough by him to recognize his name when i saw it.

and when an article appeared in the new yorker reviewing his book God is not great, i remember having a positive initial response to seeing his name. that review, if i remember correctly (again, too lazy to hunt it down; but i would if i knew the date), didn't have a lot of nice things to say about the book. not that the new yorker is God's latest champion by any means; it was a fair and balanced (huh?) review of a book the reviewer didn't deem, well, great.

i haven't read that book. and it's not just because i happen to think God is, in fact, pretty great. i'm just not interested.

i did, however, just start reading an article by hitchens in today's slate. you can click here to read it. i admit, i didn't get very far. in fact, i got partway through and, instead of finishing, clicked on over to firefox to blog about it. and i don't think i'll finish it.

why? you ask.

i don't know what got hitchens so riled up these last few years, but he's got a serious problem with religion in general and it's getting ridiculous. i'm fine with people writing books based on their beliefs. it's healthy and promotes great discourse, in many cases. but he has reduced himself to a whiny, crabby little boy given to histrionics. he throws around words like 'supposed' and 'alleged' before pillars of the Christian, Jewish and Muslim faiths, and takes every opportunity to make unsubstantiated low blows and snarky swipes at each.

it's laughable. and i'm sorry that slate got in on the action. i'm disappointed that they would print such a poorly written piece, regardless of its author.

while i'm airing disappointments, i've been looking for frank's email address so i can complain about the porn on this week's postsecret. i don't mind nudity or sex shots when there's a profound secret involved, but the postcard he posted this week is blank. just a girl in a bra on her stomach, offering herself up (seriously!) to be taken. what's the point of that? where's the secret? it seems to me someone out there is cashing in on a bet. and instead of being let in on a secret, i'm faced with gratuitous sex, a secret not meant to be shared.

shall i keep going? i can...

lots of visitors to prague comment on the nudity and sex in advertising. after all, would home depot advertise with a topless woman on a newly tiled floor boasting, 'i did it myself!' ?

the other day i was traveling by metro to physical therapy and went through the mustek station, as usual. h&m has been buying up the wall space in the hallway of the station so i'm used to seeing models stare back at me as i walk from the trains to the street. i wasn't prepared, however, to see nearly naked ladies eyeing me coquettishly, clad only in bras and panties, as i followed the mob of commuters through the maze.

it's a victoria's secret catalogue, blown up bigger than life-size.

and, lest we think it's inappropriate, or pornographic or something prudish like that, there's a price tag next to the languidly posed beauties: the price of the bras. (the price of the panties isn't shown. which begs the question: couldn't they be wearing a little more down below?)

this frustrates, saddens, and angers me. how lovely, on a Fat Day or a Bad Hair Day (or any Crap Day) to have one's self-confidence punched down a bit lower by the sight of the heroin-thin but buxom models in the ads. and even more wonderful to feel the eyes of the men on the platform, killing time as they wait for the next train. not an appraising glance, mind you, but a wolfish up-and-down and perhaps a little linger here, and here. for some women it may truly be wonderful, but only because these women don't understand that such objects are not cherished, loved, appreciated or admired. they are savagely used without interest and discarded immediately. or maybe they've already been beaten down so far they're ok with being used. something is better than nothing, right? ...right...?

*sigh*

amazing to go from hitchens' peevish ranting to porn on the metro, but the trail is there. sad that apparently he feels there's enough in religion to prompt such spewage, while a land that wholly rejects religion glorifies such degradation. no wonder so many girls and women here, no matter what age, desire to look a way that seems to them sexy, no matter what the cost.

too much perfect

outside the local grocery store a guy in a motorized wheelchair once tried to communicate with me. i don't always understand when people speak czech to me out of the blue, so when someone who has difficulty speaking addresses me, i sort of freeze. and that day, i did. i just didn't know what he wanted and i didn't know what to do, so i turned away and climbed the stairs to the post office. which allowed me to see someone else heading through that walkway moments later who stopped, listened to the man and, to my shame, took simple action.

all he needed was for someone to use his key to open the outer door of his building. the door opens out, not in, so he's unable to do it himself. i watched the other man unlock the door, hand the man in the wheelchair back his keys, and both continued on their way.

i didn't see the man for a long time, and then a couple months ago i saw him asking passers-by for help. now, this is a high-traffic walking area. the grocery store is right there, the post office and a bookstore are upstairs, there are a few smaller shops about 10 meters away, and the metro station is very close by. so it wasn't for a lack of people that he wasn't being helped, it was the same fear i experienced with him showing up in others. i saw him ask a couple people for help before i reached him, and they all sort of ignored him and moved on past. just like i had.

but this time i wasn't afraid. i knew what he wanted, and i knew i'd be able to communicate with him. his keys were in his hand, and i asked if he wanted the door open. he smiled and said thank you. i think he has cerebral palsy. i'm certainly no expert, but he strikes me as the kind of guy whose body just doesn't do what his brain is telling it to. it must suck to have a rebellious body. mine does pretty much what i ask it to. not that i demand much from it, either, but it's nice to know that i can stand up when i want, lift my arm to grasp something when i want, type cleanly and write legibly whenever i'd like. i have no idea what it's like to be at the mercy of a body that follows its own directions, with a mouth and tongue that don't cooperate the way they're told. this man is probably smarter than i am. and he lives alone--at least he doesn't have a caretaker with him all the time. hence his need for help from strangers.

it took thirty seconds of my day to open the door. maybe less. i asked if he needed anything else and he said no. i have to admit, helping him out brightened my day tremendously.

i saw this man again today. i was on my way to the post office to pay my rent. and i saw someone edge past him when he asked for help. as usual, i guess. so i went right over to him, smiled and took his keys. asked if it was the one with the blue rubber thing or the other one. the other one. i loved how happily he thanked me. Děěě-kuuuuu-juuuu, he sang. and a huge smile. took me a bit longer than thirty seconds this time. the key wouldn't turn. i started to try the other one and he said noooo even before the lock rejected it entirely. back with the other one. it won't turn! i tell him. he waits patiently and finally the key turns and he can go in. another thank you and the door closes behind him. how is it possible that my interactions with him make me feel so good?

i don't want to be self-congratulatory for helping this nice man out, especially because of my first experience with him. but i genuinely feel better for having done such a small thing as opening a door.

it must be very hard to be helpless in this country. or at least unable to open the outer door of your building. he has to humble himself and ask strangers for help every time he goes out! this, in a country where, to be a stranger is one of the worst things you can be. strangers are suspicious. strangers are outside (oh, by the way, the word for foreigner doubles for stranger). strangers aren't trusted. on top of that, he's in a motorized wheelchair with limbs flung every which way and he talks funny. no wonder they're scared.

one of my best friends is due to have her third child any day. her youngest is 12, so this will be sort of like starting over, i expect. during some tests last month it was apparent that the baby's head is larger proportionately to his (yes, his) body. they have informed the mother that there is a 10-20% chance that the baby has Downe's.

i was talking about babies with my physical therapist, šarka, this morning. šarka has a very soft heart. i mentioned my friend and the possibility of Downe's to her. she was startled and asked, didn't they do tests on her? i said well, yes, they could, but it's so close to birth, what would be the point. she'll just find out when he's born. šarka told me that here in the czech republic, pregnant women are tested twice for Downe's. aha. i then asked if most women terminate the pregnancies if the test is positive. her first answer was interesting: she said very quickly that it was a private decision for the woman. i said yes, but did she know if most women terminated. then she said yes, she thought so.

during the communist years, she said, children born with disabilities were shuttled off to institutions and kept out of sight. for all anyone knew, they didn't exist. now things are different, but only sort of. i see very few Downe's children here. very few. i could count on one hand the number i've seen in the seven years i've been here. she said it's different here than in the US, where they are assimilated as much as they can be, and a visible part of society. there are more articles in newspapers and documentaries on tv about families with Downe's children, but it's very new.

and that made me think how sad to live in a culture of perfection. my body doesn't look very perfect to me and i know most people live in that state of mind, but my body functions perfectly most of the time. but don't we lose something as a society if we don't include those who aren't perfect? people with Downe's have big hearts. they are enthusiastic, open, loving people. far more innocent than the rest of us. i have heard people say how tough it is parenting a Downe's child, but that they wouldn't change it for anything.

it seems to me, the imperfect people around us remind us most clearly of what it means to be human. helping readily. listening carefully. thanking cheerfully. laughing freely. forgiving deeply. we have to be people of mercy and grace when we interact with those with imperfect minds and bodies. but if we don't have them, all we are is a bunch of impatient people who can't believe they picked the slowest line at the grocery store. AGAIN.

two years from kristova leta

already it's two years since i wrote about the kristova leta, the Christ years. time sure flies. i don't feel much different. but i know i am. twice recently i've had close friends, who don't see me very often because of many miles between us, comment that i'm softer than i used to be. i'm not sure i would have come up with that particular word on my own, but i agree with them. that change is pretty miraculous.

i watched a tv show recently where a character insists to another character that people don't change. she was speaking specifically of a marriage relationship, but it got me thinking. because at first, i agreed. yep, that's true, people don't change. or do they? i realize i have. so if i can, why couldn't anyone else? i'm not that special.

but what makes people change? is it a determination inside of them? is it an ultimatum from someone else--parent, spouse, boss? is it an outside force? all of the above? i tend to think it's often a combination of all three and possibly more. external forces exerted on a person don't make change happen unless there's a willingness inside that person to change. and sometimes the inner willingness needs an external kick in the pants.

i know one thing: change becomes easier and more possible when there's an agent of change present. like someone or something we desire to be like, who actually works to make that change happen in us--who influences us from within. prompting change and inspiring it.

hmm. that wasn't what i meant to write about.

i realized and verbalized something recently that just sort of slipped by until a friend pointed out how significant it is.

a new friend asked the other day if i want kids. i paused and out came a somewhat unexpected answer. i said i can't really think of things in those terms anymore, because i'm past the age of desiring something and having the luxury of plenty of time for it to come to fruition. basically: in two days i'm 35 years old, without a boyfriend, fiance, husband. (and i'm not interested in making myself into a single mom on purpose.) healthy women can give birth into their 40s, sure, but...it seems overreaching somehow to continue thinking as i did in my 20s. it's an interesting place to reach when options sort of run out because of circumstances beyond our control. i can't control my age, that's for sure. i usually feel much younger than 35. i'm told i look about 27, which is super cool. but time marches on.

yes, i could get myself married if i wanted to. don't kid yourself: anyone who wants to get married, can. it's not that hard. ah, but marrying the 'right' or 'compatible' or whatever person, at the right time, well, that's another story.

the US is not the well of eligible, hungry-for-marriage men some of my friends believe it is. how do i know? i have several amazing, beautiful, loving women friends in their 30s (who would love to share their lives with someone) who are single. and they, like me, are pursuing what they are passionate about--in most cases, some form of a life of service to others. so, returning to the US determined to find a husband would have to mean, most likely, putting aside my passions and desires in order to be, well, desirable or marryable. i know, there are exceptions, blah blah blah. but be honest. i'm looking at the big picture and the examples i already see.

dating sites like eharmony exist to help those who are frustrated at not meeting enough people to choose a mate well meet more people. [i am so curious what the divorce rate of folks who met all those compatibility markers will be in 10 years.] i've been asked if i would do something like that. i did, once, for less than the money-back guarantee time of a week.

i decided that marriage would be, i hope, a lovely thing. but if it means forcing myself out of the calling and life that i'm pursuing now, then that's not for me. i would happily move into another phase of life if it happened naturally, but i'm not searching for it. i would rather not be seeking the next big thing, and instead living life well exactly where i am, and following this calling with excellence.

there's just too much to do right now without focusing on the future. sure, i have hopes and dreams. but should i sacrifice the opportunities in the present for them? i think i shouldn't.