Hubris Always Proceeds a Fall

Or "How I Wound Up in a Starbucks in the Middle of Historic Prague"

7.2.08

The funniest thing about my return to the Czech Republic (CZ) and my arrival at the airport in Prague* was how quickly my confidence (read "hubris") about being able to navigate my way around the public transportation system and the city was deflated.  Maybe you can understand my sense of confidence; after all, I'd lived in this country for a year only four years ago.  I remembered well taking the bus from the airport to the Metro into the town center.  So well, in fact, that I assured Madla (my CZ sister) that she did not need to leave work to come fetch me from the airport like a first-timer.  I could manage just fine.  

Well, I wasn't exactly wrong about being able to manage getting from the airport to the town center.  I handled that with the grace of a local.  I remembered how to purchase a transportation ticket from the yellow machine standing by the bus stop (bypassing having to talk to one of the ladies in the ticket booth and thereby avoiding giving myself away as a monoglot).  I even remembered the trick to getting the yellow machine to take your CZ coins - if you put your coin in and the machine spits it back out at you for no good reason, just rub the coin up and down on the side of the machine with vigor and for some reason that appeases the powers at be inside the machine and it will let you buy your ticket.  This is an essential tip if you're in Prague.  It can be infinitely frustrating to have a line of impatient Czechs standing behind you wanting to buy a ticket when the machine keeps spitting your coins back at you like it's trying to teach you a lesson about rejection.  

I took bus #119 from the airport to Dejvicka (I remembered how to spell it and even how to pronounce it correctly (which is necessary if you want to get off at the correct stop b/c the bus has an automated voice telling you the next stop and that's often your only clue as to when to get off.  Some of you out there may not think that remembering how to pronounce a Czech word isn't such a big deal, but then you've never tried to wrap your tongue around the impossibly acrobatic Czech language).  Then at Dejvicka, I took the Red Line to Malastrana. From that Metro station, I hopped a tram (either #12, 13, 20, or 22) to Malastrana Namesti.  

This was the stop that Madla directed me to take to find her at her office.  Madla's directions ended with my last tram stop.  Getting to that point, Malastrana Namesti (I even remembered "namesti" means "square") was a breeze to manage.  Things got hairy when I looked down at my notes and discovered that she'd neglected to give me directions to her office - she'd merely written the address.  It read like this:

COMPRESS

Vydavatelska

Spoiecnost S.R.O Aspol

KG Kancelar

Karmelitska 25

CZ 118 00 Praha 1

Ok, I thought to myself, trying to hold the panic that I felt taking root inside at bay - it's not so bad.  I recognized some aspects of this address.  I knew, for instance, that CZ meant Czech Republic.  I was in the right country.  15 - Love, Ryan.  I knew Prague is split into 7 sections and that Malastrana is in Prague 1. 30 - Love, Ryan.  I knew that the word for office is "Kancelar." 40 - Love, Ryan. But beyond that, I was lost.  Game, set, match Prague. 

When I exited the tram in the middle of the square (a square that reveals no fidelity to our idea of a square; it's more like an irregular oblong with an intimidating number of streets moving traffic in and out of the hustle and bustle of the place. It actually reminds me of a disorganized heart with aortic and ventricular vessels delivering traffic (all types - automobiles, trams, and foot) to and from the square.  My problem was I didn't know which artery to take.  

I guessed that the all caps of COMPRESS was Madla's way of saying all caps = place of business. Surely her office would be easy to spot; otherwise, Madla who always thinks of everything would have at least told me to "go right" or "go left" of the square.  She could have even written those clues in Czech because I remembered how to say "do prava" or "do leva" - I have no idea if that's how one spells "go right" or "go left" but that's how it sounds.

No COMPRESS to be found.  I began to walk around looking at street signs - posted on the sides of buildings and I finally found a street that read Karmelitska - Success!  I matched one piece of the puzzle.  Well, my celebration was short lived because, as it turns out,  Karmelitska is a long, narrow street.  As I tromped up and down Karmelitska looking for anything else to match her "address" and lugging my luggage along with me, I had to dodge groups of 30+ tourists snapping pictures.  I was reminded of my mortality by a Communist-era Skoda as I had to jump off the sidewalk to avoid a group of particularly unbending German tourists who refused to move into a single file line as we passed each other.  After this near death at the grill of a Skoda, I decided to wave the white flag and make my way back town to Malastrana Square where the tram had let me off.  I decided to admit defeat and go to Starbucks with my tail between my legs, buy some water, and take advantage of their free and easily accessible Internet.  I didn't have a cell phone to call Madla and complain to her about her "directions" so I'd have to send her an email and hope that she got it before Starbucks closed.  

*  It's really not the funniest thing, but I don't really want to write a story about how I got ripped off by the lady selling water at the airport.  It's too humiliating...