Two, Unexpected, Unbelievable Nights

So, I was really under the impression I would not be able to write another blog until I was able to gather some great stories from Andrea and I's trip to Budapest a the end of this month. However, I was pleasantly surprised by what is typically rather uneventful weekend in Andrea's city, Hradec Kralove. The weekend is normally filled with us fighting to find exciting and entertaining things to do while we attempt to save money for our adventures in either different Czech cities or other cities abroad. This weekend was quite the contrary though. It brought was it much from and many stories to tell. I will start with the first night, the night Andrea, beautifully and unforgettably helped me celebrate my birthday.
Despite, it the day after my actually Birthday, which did not matter to me and has become much the tradition. Not too many people I know even have a celebration for their Birthday on the actual date of their birth, but rather it either is postponed until the weekend after, like in my case, or is celebrated beforehand during the weekend before the actual date. Which to me is a little bit of cheating, don't even like opening cards I receive, filled with Birthday wishes, before the actual date. I feel like I am cheating those who have taken the time to buy me a card, write me something always heartfelt, and, lastly, send them off to me. Well, enough of my sidebar regarding when Birthdays are celebrated, and back to the story at hand.
As I said, Andrea helped me celebrate my Birthday on Friday night when I arrived in her city of Hradec, as me and most of the Czech people call it. She did not make huge plans, but they were perfect plans. And they were done while I slipped into an exhaustive nap for nearly an hour and half as soon as I arrived at Andrea's apartment. She knew she wanted to take me out to a nice dinner, but as for where and for what, she did not have plan.
As I slept, contently, solemnly, peacefully, Andrea worked tirelessly to plan, doing exhaustive research on the Internet to make my Birthday special, which is not easy to do about a rather small city in the middle of foreign country, she was able to find reviews of restaurants, restaurants with food I would actually eat, I am very picky for those of you who do not know. She created a masterpiece, what turned out to be one of my greatest Birthday celebrations ever. I had said previously in a post about how non-important celebrations are, even on milestone Birthdates, but her delightfully simple plan worked to perfection.
We started our evening at a restaurant in Hradec's old town square. A little apprehensive as we walked in, as every table we sought had a reserved signed on the table, but luckily, unbeknown to us, the main floor was only just the coffee house, it was not even an area where you could order food. The restaurant, which Andrea had read positive reviews about, was located in the basement, a cellar-type atmosphere. I write though in the most positive of lights. The atmosphere of this cellar restaurant was truly something for the eyes to behold and anyone who does happen to have the chance to come visit us here in the Czech Republic will probably be treated to its view. It was very romantically lit, very few dim lights ran their course across the center of the ceiling than along the walls they placed track lighting and each of the lights, not too bright, were focused on amazing photographs. The food, my pasta with mushrooms and bacon in light oil with cheese was delicious and Andrea got a dish, which was in its essence Chicken Fettuccine Alfredo. I did not get a chance to try it that night, for I had my fill with my own meal, but it was delicious when we reheated the leftovers for lunch the next day.
From this romantic, cellar dinner; Andrea took me to another restaurant probably not more than a hundred yards away.
Now, this was a place she had wanted to take me, but had looked at the menu online and was not sure if I would eat anything on the menu. But, she did take particular notice of their extraordinary dessert menu. After paying for our meal, Andrea walked me down to this restaurant. Truly elegant. Reminding me of what the Whitney in Detroit may look like if I had ever been there. It was the picture of what a fancy, high-class restaurant is, only as we looked at the prices, which are pricey for her small city, but in comparison to prices you would see for food served if they were on the same type of plates, in the same fashion, in the U.S. you would be amazed. The menu consisted of nothing, but the finest cuts of meat and the sides looked as though they were tediously and with care prepared. These meals, when we converted the prices to U.S. dollars came out to be around 10 to 15 dollars a meal, amazing.
It was at this Whitney of Hradec she ordered a glass of wine she enjoyed so much she made me memorize the name so she could have it again and I had a latte, I know it does not sound like me, but I have become addicted to these coffee drinks. The milk on the bottom, the fine coffee in the middle, and the milky froth to top them off have become a staple of my daily routine as I sit at coffee houses and write. We, also, split the most expensive desert on the menu, 90 crowns, equalivate to about seven U.S. dollars, funny. It was five truffles with hard chocolate on their tops and a delicious cream filling. These truffles were surrounded by the softness, I think, homemade whipped cream, warm "forest berries," and a sauce derived from those "forest berries." Andrea and I tried to figure out what type of berries they were and could not pinpoint them, but the attempt to discover what berries they were was pointless. The taste of them was like ecstasy in the mouth and when I would take a bite with a little piece of truffle, a little bit of the whipped-cream, and some of the berries my taste buds could not have been more satisfied. And of course, in Andrea's generosity, no matter how hard I tried to argue, she gave me four out of the five truffles on the plate. The whole night was completed with this desert and my Birthday celebration could not have been made anymore special if it had been planned weeks or months in advance by some sort of person who is paid to plan events. Andrea showed me so much love and I only hope I am able to each and everyday show her how much her efforts to make me feel important and special are enough.
Now I have shared with you the romantic night of our weekend I would like to share with you the next night, which I only hope I can make you visualize even slightly because it was a night I will never forget. Not that I will forget the night before and it's place in my heart and mind, but the second night, Saturday night, I will remember for much different reasons.
We started the night at the ballet, I know you probably read that and thought no way he was at a ballet, I am trying to broaden my cultural horizons and, yes, I really was at a ballet. It was the Prague Ballet; they were doing a performance in Hradec. It was a small, but intimate theater. Andrea’s headmaster had got us the tickets and attended the performance with us with her husband who speaks English fluently.
I do have to let you know this ballet was not at all, what I had expected. I think I have only been to the ballet once before and it was to see the Nutcracker in the fifth grade. Therefore, I had a certain understanding of what I thought the ballet was scarily thin women and men in tights standing on their tiptoes for the entire performance and moving with such grace it makes you feel like you are watching something unreal. Well, this ballet was what I guess you would call ballet that is more modern. The performs were not big in any sense of the word, but they did not carry the pencil-thin bodies I had expected nor did they wear the tights, which cling to a bodies figure as I had expected, nor did they stand on their tip-toes the entire time. They did a few times though and I enjoyed that. I enjoyed the whole thing immensely.
There were three acts. The first a story, which I could not comprehend, but not hindered in the least by my ignorance of the plot. The second, my personal favorite, maybe because I could somewhat understand the storyline, told the story of a love torn female. It was a single female performer who went back and forth between lovers. She started with her main lover, a man who was standard, a man who was not dangerous, and a comfortable man. Then she would leave the comfort of his arms for a convict, a convict who would each and every time end up leaving her. When he left each time she would return to her comfortable lover, beg for forgiveness and be forgiven, each and every time in a more dramatic fashion. Eventually, during one of the female’s performances between each lover she showed the audience that she had become pregnant, she was with child, but it seemed as the story had gone she did not know who the father of the child was. Now, with child, with her uncertain, but more passionate relationship with the convict, she made the decision to return once again, throwing away the relationship, she obviously found more unadulterated love in and return to the place and person she found a tender, but not nearly exciting love. Through a final performance of the tender, comfortable lover torn between forgiveness of the infidelity and the fact, he could be a father the comfortable, not nearly as passionate relationship won out. The comfortable couple danced across the stage as if they were getting married to end the performance. To have all of this translated, not in words, but through dance was inspiring and breathtaking. Through the entire story, through each turn of events and each amazing dance sequence I could barely breathe. Thinking a single exhale would cause me to lose even a single second an each majestic dance and it was not something I wanted to do.
The final performance was, also, something to behold. It rather reminded me of something like West Side Story. All the performers, eight in all, took turns walking to the center of the stage and each would attempt to out do what the last had just done. The entire final performance was performed to the music of a famous Czech folk artist. The headmaster's husband told us that the music was extremely famous and it was no less beautiful to Andrea or my ears. It was very upbeat and the dancers performed specetalur lifts, slow graceful movements, and, overall, packed with movements not normally associated with ballet. It almost at times looked like swing dancing.
We walked from the ballet, talking non-stop about how thoroughly we enjoyed it to those who had invited us, thanking them repeatedly and I do not think it was enough gratitude. This was an experience I will remember and run through mind for years to come. Separating from Andrea‘s headmaster and her husband is where the night took a wild turn.
As we walked away from them we made the plan to go to a local bar for just one drink, a bar that is very nice and we had been too a few times before. It is quiet, charming, and an easy place to relax. I was looking forward to a nice discuss with Andrea about all our favorite parts of the ballet. It was not to be. We walked into the bar we had planned on going only to find out it was full, no seating whatsoever.
Turning right back out the door we were at a loss. There was a café close by, which we both liked, but was a little milder than we were looking for initially. However, with our first plan shot down and no plan B we were left with very little options, which we could arrive at off the top of heads. Therefore, it was off to the café. When we arrived, it was even milder than we had imagined. There must have been at most five people in the entire place and it was not what we decided we were looking for. We walked on, and within just a few steps, we started to hear some good music. It was a song I love, a Reggae song by Damien Marley. Figured, good music, and it was a bar we had read about as a local hang out for the local University, why not?
We should have turned around as soon as we hit the steps and saw below us a thick cloud of smoke overhead the bar crowd sitting below it. As you could’ve guessed, we didn’t, we walked right down the stairs letting the smoke engulf us. We found an open table, sat down, looked at each other in amazement. We gave each other glances questioning whether we should get up and leave or stay, give it a chance. It was honestly, as if we had gone from one planet to another. We had just been sitting amongst well-dressed sophisticated adults enjoying a ballet and then we were sitting amongst teenagers with dreadlocks and clouds of smoke above their heads. The child sitting at the table next to us, literally, could not have been over fifteen. He was casually sipping on a beer and smoking a cigarette. I was disgusted, Andrea was disgusted, but then the barmaid came over and looked at us for our order. We were trapped.
I ordered my typical Coca-Cola Light and Andrea ordered a beer. With the Reggae music, blaring in the background a polite intellilectual conversation about the ballet was out of the question. The smoke-filled air, the teenagers surrounding us, and the Reggae music did not produce much lively conversation on the intricate nature of each performance. Luckily, nearby, on a shelf, I stopped a chessboard, which I have just begun to learn how to play and with no other options, although Andrea was hesitate at first, I decided the one thing we could do was play chess. I would take the awkward moment and at least try to have a little fun. I would teach Andrea the basics of chess and maybe we could play a couple of games. I grabbed the chessboard, we began our chess lesson, and Andrea picked up the game rather quickly. Before I knew it Andrea was whooping me and we were actually have a good time despite the noise from the teenagers moving about as if they were on a playground and not in a bar.
However, I think I counted my blessings way too soon. In the middle of our second game, a man, who seemed very polite, asked if he could sit down and watch our game. It seemed fine enough, but in the middle of the game he became increasing abrasive and rude as he downed beer quicker than necessary and interrupted Andrea’s each movement of a chess piece with a smirk on his face, a ugly laugh, and a “No, no, no.”
He was taking over Andrea’s game. He had not asked. Beside after telling her what to do for several turns saying, “Okay… Me, her play you.”
Our fun was lost.
This man continued to sit with us and eventual challenged me to a game. I am a complete amateur and he, according to himself was “a chess legend in the Czech Republic.” He had even bought this chessboard for the bar, it was his sister’s bar as he proudly proclaimed as he mocked me and beat me in a game of chess.
It was during this game, which he turned to Andrea and asked her to roll a joint for him as he pulled his weed from his pocket, setting it down on the table in the clear view of everyone and anyone who looked.
We were now sitting at a table with an obviously drunken arrogant man who had his weed lying on the table in plain sight with a complete indifference to any fact it may be against any law. We should of guessed something of this sort could happen at a bar allowing teenagers to freely drink. Of course, Andrea refused to roll his weed, he rolled his eyes, something being lost in translation, and I think him taking offence to Andrea’s refusal. Despite his unhappiness, Andrea would not roll his joint for him, we continued with his complete domination of me in chess. He would not allow me a moment to forget how badly he was beating me in his broken English as he rolled his joint between turns.
Once rolled, our game finished, he lit the joint without hesitation in the middle of the bar, not glancing around to see if anyone was paying attention. I would say he threw caution to the wind, but he was doing nothing wrong in this world with no laws or rules as it seemed. For god sakes, if a fifteen year was allowed to drink a pint of beer, who in this world had the right to tell this man he could not smoke a joint in the middle of a crowded, all be it teenagers, bar.
With him taking his first long drag he attempted to pass the joint to me, I firmly declined. His eyes looked as if I had done a great injustice and he looked for a moment like he was going to level me with a vicious right hook upon my refusal of his gracious present. In his current mind state, though, it slipped quickly out of his mind. He was annoyed, but he was happy enough to turn to Andrea and offer her the joint. She, too, declined his Offer. He was at a loss.
I reached quickly for Andrea’s jacket and mine, we had been trying to leave for a good ten minutes, but were held captive by this man we did not want to offend nor anger. As I was reaching for the jackets he continued to speak to us as if there was no possible way we were leaving, we had a joint to smoke, beers to enjoy with fifteen and sixteen, maybe some up to the age of eighteen, year olds, and it was still early.
At this point, I was not to be denied motioned Andrea to stand up and I slid down the seat away from him and up. As quickly as I could I had Andrea’s jacket on and my own. Apologized to him for having to leave so abruptly, shook his hand, and told him we would be back. A lie.
I do not like nor try to lie as a rule, but there is no way Andrea or me will ever step into that bar, into that alternate universe again. As we walked home laughing about the situation, the irony of the clashing two worlds we had just been in we were nothing less than shocked and amazed. If nothing else, we said, at least we will have a fun story to tell. And as you can read we do and my writing skills are not yet nearly refined enough to do the night justice.