Czeching out Prague
by Mad Dog

     Yes, it’s called Prague, and it’s pure marketing genius. But go now before they blow it by opening Wenceslas Mountain, the Rudy II Toot Beer Hall, and Mozartland. Hey, nothing good lasts forever.

     Prague is a fascinating city. It’s filled with the type of beautiful buildings the Germans tried to exterminate in World War II under Hitler’s policy of Architectural Cleansing but didn’t get to because they got sidetracked by the cheap pivo (beer) and plentiful klobása, then ran out of time before the buzzer rang and they had to take "National Reconstruction for $12 billion, Alex."

     In Prague, or Praha has they call it because they want you to think they’ve laughed at least once in the last 50 years, the public transportation is efficient, the pay phones have a mind of their own, and the language is unusual in that it requires you to use at least one "sh" sound in every word, with extra points if you can fit in three.

     Contrary to what you’ve been told, English is not widely spoken in Prague. German is. Except for the signs on stores, pubs, and casinos that say "Nonstop", meaning they’re open 24 hours a day. And, of course, at the McDonald’s and KFCs which dot the city, proving once again that we export nothing but our very best.

     These guys (and girls) aren’t out there making a fashion statement, they’re promoting classical music performances. Prague is to classical music what Amsterdam is to sex. In most cities you walk down the street and are handed flyers offering 99-cent shrimp cocktails or live sex acts, usually unnatural but always highly entertaining. The sex acts, that is. In Prague they shove flyers in your hand trumpeting the "Best Mozart in Town" or "Delightfully Dazzling Dvorak". Equally unnatural, but not quite as entertaining.

     You have to understand that the music in Prague is, well, unusual. The first song I heard was in the cab that whisked me away from the train station and it was Flashdance. Considering how easily I let the cabbie rip me off you’d think he’d have played something more to my liking. The woman I rented a room from was at least 75 years old and I heard her radio playing the Beatles. There’s a death metal band in Prague that plays all acoustic instruments. And I actually heard four different rocked-up versions of "He’s Got The Whole World In His Hands" sung in Czech. Really. Is it any surprise Mozart concerts are so popular?

     No one looks up in Prague, which is odd since the architecture is incredible. There’s Romanesque, baroque, Gothic, Art Nouveau, even cubist buildings throughout the city. The cornices and rooftops are invariably ornate, yet no one looks at them. The young people are busy checking out each other. The tourists are checking out the crystal, marionettes, and painted eggs for sale. And the older Czechs are staring straight ahead in the belief that if they smile the communists will show up and take the country back. Of course they might actually be rooting for that so the tourists won’t be allowed in anymore.

     Yes, that’s what they call the city. I’m not sure who "They" are, but it says so right there in the guide books. Face it, every city loves to compare itself to another. San Francisco is Baghdad by the Bay, probably because of all the camels running around. In Havana they swore that Ave. 5ta is patterned after Fifth Avenue in New York, but the only similarity I could see was that they’re both paved. And my Prague guidebook proudly says that "jugglers and musicians brighten the city’s evenings, again offering a typical Parisian image."

     Jugglers in Paris? The only juggler I saw there was the waiter bringing me my crepe, wine, and water after waiting until I was about to pass out so he’d had plenty of time to spit in them. And the only musicians there were gypsy accordion players in the Metro who’d just taken up their instruments the week before. The truth is, the real reason they call Prague the Eastern Paris is because of the Eiffel Tower.

     That’s right, there’s one sitting on Petrín Hill overlooking Castle Prague. It’s a small-scale version built for the Prague Industrial Exhibition in 1891 which has 299 stairs you can climb for 20 koruna, or about 60 cents. I didn’t hike up the real Eiffel Tower, but I did climb this one. And why not? It has way fewer steps, there was no line to get in, it has more TV and microwave antennas on it, and it has a much better view of Prague. Hey, if I’m nothing I’m a smart tourist.

    Smart enough not to buy into their marionette craze. Prague is into marionettes. It’s a long tradition that I suspect goes back to the days when Moscow pulled their strings. While in Prague you can take in a classic Czech marionette show, see marionettes performing Yellow Submarine, and even catch them doing Don Giovanni, which is the height of Prague-dom since it combines puppets with Mozart, something you don’t see nearly often enough. Now if they’d only put some mouse ears on those things they’d have a sure fire hit on their hands.

©1998 Mad Dog Productions, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
These columns appear in better newspapers across the country. So far the Prague Post isn't one of them.