Wednesday, April 25, 2007

It turned out that the cookout to which I was invited on Sunday evening was an all-Czech affair. I think most everyone there spoke English, and would do so when addressing me, but the rest of the time, it was definitely like watching a movie without subtitles. Maybe I should try to learn Czech next, since it seems like that’s that language that’s spoken most often around my residence, even in excess of German.

One of the people at the party was a guy who was working on his Ph.D. in medieval Bohemian history between the 14th and 15th centuries, and when he heard that I was from Michigan, he asked if I had been to Kalamazoo College, since there’s a big medieval history conference there every year. Sadly, I have never been to Kalamazoo, but I do remember my cousin, Alex, telling me several years ago about what a great medieval history program they have there. This guy is the first person since I’ve met since then who had also heard of the program. I was kind of amused when he said, “I think there are probably about 150 people in the world working on the same area of history as me. I think I know about three quarters of them personally.” I’m wondering if the definition of his field of study is not merely “14th and 15th century Bohemian history,” but something more like, “History and correlations of grain production with beer and soap consumption in the western villages of the northern provinces of Bohemia during the 14th and 15th centuries, as they may or may not relate to the early philosophies of Jean Sartre.”

Apparently Jĭrkĭ and his girlfriend, Anna, had heard me playing guitar earlier in the day, so they asked me to go get it and play for everyone. Regrettably, I know only a few songs to which you can sing, none of with the Czech people knew. Everyone kept requesting Beatles songs, but since most Beatles songs are too high for me to sing, I never bothered learning them. After I went through the few sing-along songs I knew (though no one knew the words, and therefore abstained from the singing), I passed the guitar over to the history guy I had been talking to, and he started playing some traditional Czech songs, to which there was immediately a 20 person vocal accompaniment. Someone asked me why I knew so few songs you could sing along to, and I said it was because none of my friends ever want to sing (I’m looking at you, Andy Baum, Kaitlyn, Alexa…). She looked very puzzled at my answer, apparently unable to fathom how I managed to befriend such party poopers. Now that I actually know people who are willing to sing, it looks like I’ll be learning a lot of Beatles song (much to the chagrin of Andy’s mother I’m sure).

Despite my inability to understand anything not specifically directed toward me, it was a great time. People kept forcing me to eat more bratwurst, steak, and little mushroom looking things filled with tuna, though I put up little resistance. I think Anna was a little concerned that perhaps I was ill or something when she said, “You have only two beers all night?! Are you sure you okay?” I was extremely flattered by the kindness of these people who I’d hardly ever talked to before, but randomly decided to invite me to join their gathering and to feed me till I was ready to burst.