Shopping With A Czech

One of my Czech friends is currently staying with us in England. It is fascinating to see my homeland through her eyes. Amongst other things it highlights the differences between our two countries.

On Wednesday we went to our local Morrison's supermarket, she wanted to buy some English foodstuffs to take home. She was awestruck by the variety on display there. "You have five different types of pear!" she exclaimed. The sheer variety and quality of fruit and vegetable were cause for comment. My experience of buying vegetables in Krumlov Tesco's is that you need to look hard at what you are buying - at least one potato in the pack will be going off.

Then we came to the fresh fish counter, this was a revelation for her. Of course the Czechs do not have access to fresh sea fish, being so far from any sea, and so most of the fish on the counter were new to her. We bought a bag of live mussels, which she had never tried before.

Then there was the aisle dedicated to tea and coffee - of course being British there were loads and the sheer size of many of the packs of tea (i.e. 240 teabags) caused comment. She added two packs to the trolley to pack in her suitcase - having realised that English tea is unlike (stronger and better) that sold in the Czech Republic, even those teas pretending to be 'English' tea. And so it went on... aisle after aisle packed with a much wider variety of goods than in the Czech supermarkets.

She came to the conclusion (as indeed had I) that English food is often cheaper than in the Czech Republic, especially food essentials, with the exception of alcohol and cigarettes. I then explained that in Britain food is not taxed, nor are books, children's clothes and medicines, but that the duty on alcohol and cigarettes is very high indeed and constantly rising. This was considered by my Czech friend to be very just and sensible. I am sure all those avid Czech beer drinkers would not agree with her, but I think I do. In fact I feel strongly that the British system of not taxing foodstuffs and discounting basic foods is very fair and I feel for all those Czechs struggling on much lower wages and facing above British prices.

Golden Czech Hands

"Zlaté české ruce" (Czech golden hands) is a phrase you will hear in the Czech Republic. It refers to the national belief that the Czechs are great craftsmen and engineers. Whilst it is true that the Czechs do indeed have some very fine craftsmen, it is also true that many old skills are in decline.

More annoyingly it is often applied by Czech men to themselves regardless of skill level. As this is linked to the national identity a non-Czech needs to tread with care when challenging it. Under the Communist era a high level of DIY self help was required - if you wanted something, often the only way to get it was to make it with whatever materials you could get your hands on. This led to some fine examples of ingenuity and inventiveness, but it also led to some wonderful examples of Heath Robinson construction.

I came across a good example of this on the northern shores of Lake Lipno. Look closely at these fishing punts and you will see that some zlaté české ruce have nailed plastic garden chairs to the boats to create more comfortable seating. Another boat owner further along the shore had even used a swivelling office chair to afford 360 degree fishing.

Music

On Witches' Night we experienced Czech music in all its infinite variety. First we attended the maypole erection in the Eggenberg Brewery Gardens (Cesky Krumlov). There we were treated to traditional folk music - with bagpipes, horns and violins, pleasant enough but rather oompahish (the German influence showing methinks) - and then to a rock band called sandvic (sandwich) , made up of some very serious local secondary school kids. The band was too much noise for my taste and so we fled.

Later we made our way to the Gypsy Tavern (Cikanska Jizba) where the local gypsy band was playing. The video above is of the same band in the same tavern - sadly not my creation it is from youtube, thanks to pashkapushka for uploading. Just click on the arrow to play the video. Here was wonderful music with rhythm and soul, so much so that it was hardly possible to stay still in one's seat. The Friday night gig at the Tavern is undoubtedly the best in town. I recommend it.

Sadly we had the late night bus to catch and so had to leave before the end of the set. In Horice Na Sumave the villagers were celebrating the night around the bonfire, having erected a maypole at least twice the size of Krumlov's. Music was playing - more oompah. Then as we walked up the unlit hill the music got totally surreal, as the local oompah band took on first the Birdy Song and then Zorba's Dance.

Mayday

Although May 1st is the official bank holiday, the real day for celebrations in the Czech Republic is Witches Night the day before. This is the night when all over the Czech Republic villages raise their maypoles, when bonfires are lit, witches burnt (well images anyway) and women jump over the flames to improve their fertility. This is the celtic festival of Beltane in fact and so much more preferable to Mayday itself with all its communist connotations.

Here in Cesky Krumlov the maypole was erected in the Eggenberg Brewery Gardens. The maypole was a tall fir tree stripped of all but its topmost branches and decorated by paper streamers - added by local maidens in traditional clothes assisted by many small children. The final touch was, in true Czech style, a bottle of slivovice. This was very much a Czech and local occasion, hardly any tourists made their way to the site. The gardens were full of Czech families, enjoying local bands on the main stage, drinking beer, cooking sausages on the bonfire, and looking at the stalls set up by local community groups.

As I took the late bus home to Horice Na Sumave surrounded by happy Czechs, I could not help thinking what a good idea it was to have a state bank holiday on the day after Witches Night, we were all going to need a lie-in to recover from the festivities.

Cherries

I have been watching the fruit trees in the orchard as if watching them would somehow encourage them to blossom. Then yesterday or last night or this morning, anyway some time when I wasn't looking, the cherry trees went from bud to full flower in what can only have been hours.

I have a fellow blogger from Prague staying with me at the moment and so have been showing off the fecundity of my garden, with last year's cherries out of the freezer - an exquisite taste of summer! And will this year's harvest be as good? The loud humming sound coming from the cherry trees suggests the bees are busy already, so fingers crossed.

Hot Potatoes

The other day I was walking home when I was invited into a neighbour's garden for a cup of coffee. The grandmother of the family (translated by her granddaughter who was learning English at school) said that she couldn't speak English. To speak English, she said, you needed a hot potato. Her granddaughter and I looked at each other both of us non-plussed by this remark. The grandmother then did an impression of someone talking with a hot potato in their mouth. It was very funny. And we all laughed.

But it also made me wonder do we really sound like that? It looked and sounded like someone with a plum in their mouth, as we say in the UK (posh for any reader that doesn't know the phrase). Then I suppose there is also the English phrase when something is a hot potato (ie so controversial no one wants to handle it), but I gather that has another (American?) meaning. Ah well! Who says language is a form of communication?

Czech Moles

I have blogged in the past about the little mole cartoon character that is so beloved by the Czechs. Well this post is about the real three-dimensional version.

With the arrival of Spring trails of brown soil heaps have exploded in people's lawns like spots on a teenager's chin. Everywhere I go, people are moaning about them. Plastic bottles have been shoved upside down into the burrows to scare away the little gentlemen in velvet.

The other day I was walking down the lane when I found two dead velvet gentlemen. They lay in the middle of the tarmac on their backs with their large paddle-shaped front paws held up as if surrendering to the sky. I don't know what has caused this. Maybe the moles were making a dash for the field on the other side, unable to dig their way across, they decided to go over the top into no-man's land only to be mown down. Perhaps some animal - a fox perhaps - was collecting them. Then in my garden I found another, already far gone - the black and orange graveyard beetles were crawling over it. So what is catching them and not eating them, I wonder? And did the rest of the mole platoon make it to the field on the other side?