2020/04/03

Poslední měsíc stipendistky Šárky Malošíkové aneb ohlédnutí se za pobytem na CAP CU Denver

Napsala Ing. arch. Šárka Malošíková z Ústavu navrhování II Fakulty architektury Českého vysokého učení technického v Praze. Šárka posledních 7 měsíců působila na College of Architecture and Planning na University of Colorado v americkém Denveru a byla součástí certifikovaného programu Colorado Building Workshop, v němž studenti nejen navrhují projekty, ale přímo je i staví.


Sedím právě v povinné karanténě na Moravě v domě po babičce a doháním resty za poslední dva týdny, které jsem místo výzkumu věnovala především plánování předčasného návratu z USA domů a cestě samotné. I když už jsme s manželem nějaký den zpátky, můj biorytmus je pořád nastaven na Denver, takže vstát před polednem se mi zatím nepodařilo.
Šárka Malošíková s manželem v Denveru
Ještě před měsícem nic žádnému předčasnému odjezdu nenasvědčovalo. Můj vedoucí Rick Sommerfeld naplánoval na začátek dubna pro celý pětičlenný tým Colorado Building Workshopu studijní cestu do dvou design-build programů na jihu USA – “Small Studia” v New Orleans a “Rural Studia” v Newbernu v Alabamě. Na začátku března jsme si rezervovali ubytování a na teambuilding jsme se všichni nesmírně těšili. Navíc se nabízela možnost si pobyt prodloužit, takže jsme s manželem naplánovali, že se ke mně v New Orleans přidá, a po cestě zpátky se ještě zastavíme na dva dny v Houstonu. Chtěla jsem se tam podívat na Menil Collection navrženou Renzem Pianem, pro kterého jsem před lety pracovala.

Na začátku března také proběhla konference “Schools of Thought” na University of Oklahoma v Normanu. Dozvěděla jsem se o ní až někdy v listopadu, kdy už zaslání příspěvku nebylo možné. Přesto jsem ale na tuto konferenci vyrazila – hlavně proto, že jedním z témat byly právě design-build projekty, a mohla jsem se tak potkat s dalšími lidmi z USA, kteří se těmto projektům věnují. Ukázalo se, že to byla konference zaměřená spíše na prezentaci různých osobních pohledů na vzdělávání a na analytický rozbor současného stavu architektonického školství spojený s nastíněním potenciálních potřebných změn už čas nebyl. Přesto to byl cenný náhled do myšlení vybraných amerických pedagogů.

Památník v Oklahoma City
Na závěr konference bylo možné navštívit buď Prérijní dům od Herba Greena nebo Národní památník v Oklahoma City. Vybrala jsem si druhou možnost. Památník byl postaven jako upomínka na bombový útok na federální budovu v roce 1995, při tomto útoku zahynulo 168 lidí. Místem nás provedli autoři návrhu, manželé Butzerovi, kteří se kvůli tomuto projektu do Oklahoma City přestěhovali a už tam zůstali natrvalo (Hans Butzer nyní vede místní školu architektury). Památník patří mezi nejzajímavější stavby, které jsem ve Spojených státech během svého pobytu navštívila, a to jak díky velmi silnému konceptu, tak i kvalitnímu provedení. Zcela jistě k tomu přispělo citlivě zpracované zadání, do jehož přípravy byla zapojena veřejnost i rodiny obětí.

Víkend jsem zakončila návštěvou nedalekého Dallasu, kde jsem „zkontrolovala“ další dva Pianovy projekty – rozšíření Kimbellova muzea ve Fort Worth a Nasher Sculpture Center. Zvlášť druhá jmenovaná stavba, kterou doplňuje skvěle udržovaná sochařská zahrada, za tu zajížďku stála.

Po příjezdu zpátky jsem se vrátila do velmi intenzivní výuky. Colorado Building Workshop každoročně během jarního semestru a “Maymestru” se studenty navrhne a postaví projekt dle zadání klienta. Letos to měly být dva přístřešky na kola v nedalekém univerzitním kampusu. Na začátku března, asi měsíc a půl po začátku semestru, už studenti zpracovávali detaily hybridní ocelovo-kamenné konstrukce v měřítku 1:1 a dokončovali projektovou dokumentaci základů, která musela projít tzv. review. Práce nabírala mírný skluz, ale stále to vypadalo, že budou na konci března základy odlité. 
práce se studenty
Ještě před odjezdem do Oklahomy mi ale začaly chodit e-maily z ČVUT o případné možnosti uzavření univerzity kvůli virové epidemii. Ve chvíli, kdy k tomu v Česku opravdu došlo, se na CU Denver začínala tato varianta teprve řešit. Nejprve to vypadalo, že Colorado Building Workshop dostane výjimku a bude-li schopen dodržet některá omezení (například práci v menších skupinách), je stále reálné, že by k odlévání základů na konci března a ke stavbě v květnu došlo. Byl tu přeci jen závazek vůči klientovi a platná smlouva, ve které byly tyto termíny uvedeny.

Situace se ale měnila každým dnem. Výuka přešla naprosto plynule do online prostoru, a možná se dokonce zintenzivnila, a mně se díky tomu tak trochu zjednodušilo sledování celého procesu. Ve chvíli, kdy jsem od českého konzulátu v L.A. dostala zprávu doporučující českým občanům odjet zpátky domů, už bylo jasné, že ke stavbě základů na konci března nedojde. Protože beton musí vyzrát, než je možné se stavbou pokračovat, květnová fáze výstavby byla najednou také ohrožena. 

práce se studenty
Koupili jsme tedy letenky domů s tím, že se možná s turistickým vízem vrátím zpátky aspoň na nějakou část stavby. Den před naším odletem se už reálně uvažovalo o termínu na konci léta či začátku podzimu a v úvahu připadala i varianta, že se nakonec bude stavět až o rok později.

Zprávy z domova o postupném uzavírání veřejného života nás v Coloradu donutily k činům, které bychom jinak možná odkládali. Místní situace totiž stále vypadala velmi klidně. Vyšlápli jsme si třeba na zasněženou Lilly Mountain, zašli si do místní vyhlášené restaurace anebo se pokusili vyrazit ke Crater Lake (tou dobou už bylo ale město zavřené a všichni vyrazili do hor, takže jsme místo u jezera stáli v dopravní zácpě). Výlet do New Orleans, Alabamy i Houstonu samozřejmě padl, stejně tak jako naše plánovaná měsíční cesta po východním pobřeží po skončení studijních povinností.

prázdné ulice NYC
Domů jsme se vraceli přes New York City a během 12 hodin mezi lety jsme se vydali projet město aspoň v bezpečí pronajatého auta. Ulice byly i přes ranní špičku skoro prázdné. Přitom svítilo teplé jarní sluníčko, kvetly stromy a všude bylo plno běžců. Jen nebylo, kam zajít na kafe. Asi se tam budeme muset vrátit zpátky, abychom si užili ten pověstný Kolhaasův treštící New York. Letos v červnu to ale asi nebude.

I přes všechny nesnáze mě ale poslední měsíc utvrdil v tom, že jsem si vybrala dobré místo pro svůj fulbrightovský pobyt. Zatímco alabamské Rural Studio ukončilo své rozpracované design-build projekty bez náhrady a mnohá další studia směřují k podobnému rozhodnutí, Colorado Building Workshop hledá cesty, jak slíbený projekt dokončit. Sledovat krizový režim a hledání alternativ je velmi poučné – a dnes už je to naštěstí možné i na dálku, třeba z povinné domácí karantény.

Šárka Malošíková s manželem při návratu do Prahy

2020/03/30

Goodbye Czech Republic!

For three weeks now, the Czech Republic has closed its borders. Our US grantees were strongly urged by the Department of State to leave the Czech Republic and return to the US. For us, but especially for our grantees, it was a heartbreaking and a very emotionally-demanding time. Most of the grantees did not manage to say proper goodbyes to those they worked with and befriended in their cities. So, now, we share their Facebook posts from the past days, as well as reports from the colleagues who enjoyed working with them. Warning: you may get emotional!


















2020/03/27

An Average School Day

By Miriam Siroky (Fulbright Scholar’s daughter)


Dear Diary,

Today was quite an average school day. To be honest, I didn’t want to get out of bed, but I was excited to see my friends. I slowly got out of bed and ready for school, but I really didn’t really want to go outside, and started to imagine: “If only there was a zip line from my bed to the classroom…”

I really have nothing to complain about, since my whole commute takes less than oneminute by foot. Only when I sleep over at a friend’s house do I have a reason to complain about how long it takes to get to school, and it only makes me grateful to live so close to school. As my feet drag me through the two doors of the school, I start to question why I’m not in bed still, since it’s only 8. As the second door opens, I go straight to my locker, where I change my shoes, and put my jacket inside. After exiting the locker room, I head up the two flights of stairs to my classroom, where I see my friends! About a minute later, we are saying ‘not it’ for who needs to go for the keys (which are three flights of stairs up.) Usually, I am the one who gets the keys along with one of my friends.

Once we unlock the classroom, we can go and sit down in our seats. We each slowly take out Czech Language for our first period, then our pens and pencils. I also take out my phone to quickly text my friend in the seat next to me before class officially starts. As 8:30 comes around, our teacher comes in, and we put our phones away in our backpacks. Then our teacher says the words of horror: “Please take out Czech Language,” and the whole class sighs.

The class starts out with this seemingly innocent drill that kills your soul. It’s called a dictation. The teacher dictates a few sentences that have ONLY exceptions. Let me give an example. Czech grammar offers its speakers something called ‘Vyjmenovany slova,’ which is a bunch of words (about 30) that you need to memorize to determine which words have a ‘y’ as opposed to an ‘i’. Czech children have nightmares about it. On the first day of school, I recall when the teacher asked us to say ‘Vyjmenovany slova’. After some initial reluctance, all of my new friends repeated the list of words like robots.

After she dictates the first few sentences, we check for our mistakes, and turn it in again. When I started off this year, as a new student who had never been in a Czech school before, I had more than 20 mistakes in three or four sentences, but after doing it every week, I am now down to one or two mistakes per dictation. I think my teacher and even some of my friends are surprised. Most of all perhaps, I’m surprised.

After Czech Language, we have a break, as we do after every class. It’s incredible. Our teacher leaves the classroom; and in ten minutes, we manage to make an impressively BIG mess. The boys are usually fighting or pulling each other’s hair (although they don’t have much). Girls will often be talking, making a hair salon out of the classroom (which the boys hate), or doing some gymnastics from one side of the class to the other.

Then the second period – math - starts. When we work in our math books, there is always a race to see who will get it done first. Ester, my friend, usually wins, and I come in second. Most of the boys are quite slow. Once in a while, we will work in groups. But most of the time, we just help each other, even without being put into groups. Then the bell rings, and it’s BREAK again. And the whole thing starts over, until our next class: music.

I really enjoy music and especially singing. Sometimes, we sing Czech songs that are new to me. At other times, we sing English songs that are familiar to me. My favorite English song goes: “Go home! Nobody home, eat no, drink no, ever have I known. Everybody will be happy…” Once we sang “Twinkle little star”. Music is also a break from hard work, which important because, as I explain to my friends, “ I start off with 10 brain cells in the morning. Czech takes up 6, Math takes up 4, and when we have music they recharge.”

After Music, we have English. Or as my friends like to call “a break for Miri, my nickname” I really like our English teacher. We play a lot of games, and we also learn. My favorite game is “Guess the Word”. Someone has a piece of paper with a picture on it, and we have to guess it with a series of questions.

Then someone asks what our next subject is - and we all reply in a grumpy voice, “Czech.” As we start our second Czech class of the day, we get our dictations back from the first Czech class. If you make a mistake, then you have to use it in a sentence, explain why it’s a mistake and then rewrite it. It can take up to 20 minutes. Then we read. I am currently reading a book called “Prašina” that my friend, Sara, gave to me. I am really enjoying it because it’s an adventure, and I feel like I’m living through an adventure as well.

Then there’s lunch. We rush to get everything clean before we can head to the cafeteria. Even though no one is very fond of the food, there are always long lines for lunch. Our parents ‘pay for it’ with their money and we pay for it with our stomachs. When we’re done, we give our plates to the lunch lady. If we return less than an empty plate, we get a mean look that freaks every kid out. That’s for free.

When my friends and I finish lunch, we often all go to my apartment to hang out and do girls stuff, like dancing, making videos, hair styling, and pillow fights. Then my friends go home, and it's family time, dinner, homework and my bedtime routing. In addition to Czech and Math, which are everyday, we also have classes in History, Science, Hebrew Language, Jewish Education, Parsha, Physical Education and (my favorite) Art! On some days I have activities after school, like swimming, Aikido, Choir, flute lessons, and Torah study.

As I lay in bed, I can’t help thinking to myself what an amazing Fulbright life it is!

2020/03/23

The Journey Is the Destination by Alec Travers

Last week was full of sudden decisions and twists in the lives of our grantees. Many of them had to pack up at short notice to go back home according to the changing announcements. One of them was our ETA, Alec. Read his moving farewell.


text by Alec Travers (Fulbright English Teaching Assistant)

As previously mentioned, due to worldly circumstances (see: Pandemic), I’m writing this farewell letter earlier than I was expecting to. My originally planed 10 months in the Czech Republic were cut short a few months, however, I would not like to further dwell on that missing time, but rather share appreciation and gratitude for the incredible 7 months I was so fortunate to have. It’s now been a week since my arrival back home to Roanoke, VA and in that time I have been trying to formulate the best farewells I could extend, to try and encapsulate my thanks to so many people and things that shaped my Fulbright experience.

To Tabor: Tabor, you are a beautiful city. Your cobblestone streets, pastel buildings, and beautiful geographic setting help tell the story of the 600 years of history you are celebrating this spring. When I first came to look at the town for a day in April last year, I didn’t yet see your charm. But after moving there in August, you quickly grew on me and became a home I was proud of and thankful to call my own. Your walkability, safety, and mystique will be something I hope to find in any other place that I live, and something I will always remember you for. I’m grateful to you for challenging me in ways that required me to grow as an individual and as an adult in times of uncertainty and adversity. I always enjoyed the opportunity of getting to show you off to people visiting me, and I will miss walking your streets as a resident.

To My Mentor, Jitka: From the first time I met you, I had a great feeling about you. Your poise and confidence were reassuring. As we exchanged emails during the summer months, our communication and your helpful suggestions made my departure from the US much less daunting. During the course of this year, you have been nothing short of a pleasure to work with and be around, as not only my mentor, but as my most trusted friend. You were a perfect mentor for me to be matched with, as you allowed me an abundance of autonomy and your trust from the beginning, which allowed me to thrive and grow. You constantly went out of your way to make sure I was included, comfortable, and felt at home in Tabor and as a faculty member at the school. You took on the role of my mentor voluntarily, without any type of incentive from the school or Fulbright program to compensate you for your efforts and time. I can’t thank you enough for your generosity.

To my school colleagues: Thank you for allowing me into your classrooms and your lives as an outsider, unfamiliar with Czech customs and lacking a formal educational background. From the time I was introduced to each of you face to face, your smiles and welcoming disposition made me feel comfortable and wanted. As teachers, you provided me with examples of how I could grow in my teaching abilities and competencies. Whether it be bringing me food you had prepared, working on special projects together, or as a team to defeat the students in the Christmas School Volleyball Tournament, I would not have had this great an experience without you. Everyone at school was such a pleasure to work with and your patience with me was not overlooked.


To my students: Our time together was cut short. However, that only increases how proud I am to have been your teacher during these past 7 months, and for all of the growth you made during our time together. I acknowledged from the beginning that English is a difficult language to learn, but I pushed you to push on, and I congratulate you for not giving up. Your curiosity in the United States and about my life brought us the opportunity to have fun lessons, covering a wide range of topics. I thank you all for your kindness, respect, and for making me feel at home and welcomed during my time in Tábor. Your participation during our time together and your hard work made me want to work hard for you. I also treasured the opportunity to learn from you. The Fulbright program is not one-sided; it is a mutual exchange of culture and I greatly enjoyed the opportunity to learn from you about your county’s incredible history and culture. Thank you for teaching me. I encourage each of you to not be afraid to make mistakes, and to truly believe that you have the power and the ability to achieve anything you set your mind to. Thank you for giving me pride in my work. I will greatly miss your smiles and hellos walking through the hallways.

To all my Tabor friends: You all are very different; in age, personality, race/gender, and yet, all of you impacted my experience in your own way. They say Czech people can be cold and uninterested in outsiders; I did not find that to be true. Sometimes it was an uplifting handshake in the gym, welcoming me into your home to join your family for a meal, laughs over pivo in the pub, bicycle rides around the Jordan, horseback rides through the forest, hockey games, taking me to get a haircut, explaining to me how things worked, and countless other memories we shared together. Thank you for gifting me with friendship and including me in a world I would have otherwise been isolated and alone in. I look forward to sharing more of these experiences with you at some point in the future.

To my loved ones and friends who came to visit: Moving somewhere by yourself, where you don’t know anyone, in an unfamiliar environment, with a language you don’t speak, is a difficult thing to do. There were times I was lonely and craved the interaction with other English speakers that I already had deep relationships with. Each of your visits brought me happiness, and something to look forward to. I learned you really can’t put a price on the feeling of being loved, whether by family or friends. It was fun for me to get to show you my city, my school, and my Czech life.

To the Czech Fulbright Commission: Thank you for all of your hard work. From the communication pre-arrival, to our first time all meeting, throughout the entirely of the program, I was blown away by your professionalism and management competencies. I have never worked in an environment that was this well run. I completely agree with the Embassy officials that on numerous occasions referred to the Czech Fulbright Commission as running the “gold standard” of Fulbright programs in the world. Specifically to my program officer, Kristyna, you were such an incredible resource to have and so great at your job. You are the type of colleague I would want on my team every time.

To my fellow Fulbright grantees: I was honored to be a part of such a prestigious group of people. Your intellect, experiences, and diversified backgrounds made you such interesting people to work alongside. I’m so thankful for the Fulbright program for giving 31 strangers the chance to come together to not only become friends, but work as a team to impact the world. I hope each of you will remember the power of positivity in your lives to come. Mark my words, this group will be full of exceptionally successful individuals. I look forward to the next chess game.


To my family and friends back home: Thank you for joining along with me during this journey. I am so grateful for your thoughts and prayers along the way; I needed each of them. It’s been a joy for me to get to share my stories, thoughts, and pictures with you for the last 2 years. Your feedback has made me consider continuing the blog in some capacity in the time to come. You forced me to remember that my experiences are not just solely mine, but that they can be shared and felt by others, no matter where they may be around the globe.

These 7 months have truly been an example of “the journey is the destination.” When I entered the program, I anticipated that I would feel a sense of growth and difference in my life by the scheduled conclusion date in June. However, I failed to realize that during each month, each week, and even each day, I was being subtly changed and impacted by each experience and the involvement of all of the countless people addressed above. My Fulbright experience was full of highs and lows, but I am so grateful for all of it. With mutual funding and support from the United States government and partnering countries all around the world, individuals like me have the opportunity to exchange culture, ideas, and learn how to work as a worldly team together to address our future. That teamwork is something we need now more than ever.

Gratefully,

Alec Travers

2020/03/17

To Stay or Not to Stay, That Is the Question...

In the last few days, the Czech Republic has been experiencing major changes day by day. Every day, the government is tightening measures to win the stuggle against the coronavirus. There are closed restaurants, most shops, but mainly schools and universities. Our grantees have faced a major challenge this week. To go or not to go home to the USA.

In this post we are sharing some of the touching confessions of our grantees who have been faced with the big question of whether to stay or to go in recent days. Read about Alanna, Anya and Jubilee's decisions in this post.



This text was written by Alanna Powers (current English Teaching Assistant)


Family, friends, students, and everyone in between: 

The past 24 hours, have been, without a doubt, the hardest of my life. If you’ve been keeping up with the news, the Czech Republic is closing its borders on Sunday, allowing only citizens and those with long-term residency (that’s me) the option to stay. No one will have the option to leave come Sunday night for an unspecified amount of time. This basically left me with an ultimatum: leave my Fulbright grant three and a half months early without saying goodbye, or stay, not knowing when I can leave again. 

This felt like an impossible choice. There are so many unknowns on each side of the ocean. That being said, after a lot of talks with family and close friends I have decided to stay in the Czech Republic in hopes that things will return to normal and I will be able to resume life as planned in a month or so. The Czech government has been very proactive with the situation; placing restrictions on almost every activity. Currently the only things that are open are grocery stores and pharmacies. This gives me hope that the situation will be under control quickly and efficiently.

Of course, I am still a little scared. A decision could be made at any moment that would force me to leave quickly and with little guidance. The fact that as of tomorrow there isn’t a clear way to get back home is unsettling. However going home to quarantine with no plan and little current opportunity to move forward due to the worsening situation would be even more difficult for me.

I have an amazing support network in this wonderful little town of Dvůr and throughout the Czech Republic. A wonderful, caring mentor whose family has become like a second family to me, a professor who has offered up any kind of support I should need, and multiple other friends and colleagues who have said they will be there for me throughout this time of uncertainty.

The truth is no one can predict the future. Maybe my decision is too hopeful and naive. Maybe life will return to normal in a month or so and I’ll be so thankful that I’ve stayed. Maybe it won’t. However I feel in my heart and in my head that I’ve made the choice that is right for me.

To my students: Well, if you’ve read this whole thing then you’ve definitely practiced your English for the day! I am working with your teachers to set up some online conversation lessons as well as to help them mark any work you may be sent. You’ve brought more light and joy to my life than you know and I so hope we will see each other again soon.

To my friends and family: thank you so much for your support, especially to all of you who’ve checked in on me. I’ll continue to keep you updated as much as possible.

This isn’t going to be a “fun” time for anyone, anywhere in the world. However it is something that we will get through, together as humans who are connected through love and compassion for one another.

I’m so grateful for the opportunity that Fulbright has given me, it’s really been once in a lifetime. Of course the rest of the grant will be much different than it has been, but it will be its own type of adventure, and it’s one that I’m ready for.

this text was written by Jubilee Marshall (current English Teaching Assistant)


To my friends, family, and students,

I am safely back in the United States, but feels wrong to say that I have made it home — not because I’m not happy to be back with my parents and dog in Washington D.C., but because it was so unbelievably difficult to leave my home in Polička. 

Although I know it was the right decision, given the closure of the Czech borders and the order I received from the U.S. State Department to return to America, I am devastated that I didn’t have the chance to say goodbye to everyone in person. 

To my colleagues, 
thank you for making me feel so welcome in our school. I felt so safe and cared for knowing that there were people looking out for me, and that there would always be friendly faces in the staffroom. 

To my students, please know that I am so impressed by you. 
I was so lucky to have been blessed with such bright, curious, and hardworking students, and I know that you all will do great things in the future. I hope that I can be involved in your online lessons in the next few months, but I also want you to know that I am always happy to chat with you at any time. 

Please send me a message here, or on Instagram (@jubesmarsh), if you ever want to talk. 
Maybe I’ll even try out some Czech 🙂 
Thanks to everyone who made Polička feel like my home. 
I know I will be back soon. 

Love, Jubilee


This text was written by Anya Fairchild (current English Teaching Assistant)


Originally this blog post was supposed to be about my spring break travels to London and Vienna, but though I was in those magnificent cities just a week ago, my trip feels further from reality than anything else. Yesterday, the U.S. government advised all Fulbright grantees in the Czech Republic to travel back to the United States as quickly as possible. Yesterday we were also notified that after Sunday night, the Czech borders would close and it would become extremely difficult to get back home. Over half of my fellow grantees are attempting to get out of the country right now, even as many of their flights have been cancelled or overbooked. Meanwhile, I have decided to stay in the Czech Republic in the hopes that within the next few months things will return to some semblance of normalcy. 

Though I’m still in the same country, I came back from spring break to what felt like a completely different one. The day I arrived, I was told that I would need to stay in home quarantine and so I have had to remain alone in my flat for nearly a week now. For the first couple days of my quarantine, this meant missing classes, but since then all Czech primary and secondary schools have been closed. At this point there are many other regulations in place. No gatherings of thirty or more people may be held and all businesses are closed besides essentials like grocery stores, pharmacies, and gas stations. 

So what to do now? I’ve been reading, cleaning, studying Czech, working out, and keeping track of what feels like a million serious updates a minute. By next week, I should be able to interact with other people in a distanced sort of way, and I already have plans to meet up with some small groups of students. As the schools transition to an online format, I hope to be of assistance with some sort of online teaching as well. My hope is that I’ll be able to still return to the U.S. in July as planned and that there are still some amazing experiences to be had here. 

For those who are curious, though, my spring break trip really was wonderful and well worth my current quarantined state. One of my best friends flew over to Europe from the US in order to travel with me, and we took full advantage of it. We saw all the major sights of London (Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, Tower of London, the Globe, etc) and received an incredible tour from our mutual friend in Oxford (gorgeous colleges, the pub where C.S. Lewis and Tolkien used to meet, Harry Potter filming locations, etc). We then took a relaxing day in rural Czech Republic before spending our last few days in Vienna, seeing beautiful architecture, tasting famous dishes, and biking to the Danube River. Throughout the week, we saw a Broadway show, went to a comedy club, drank tons of tea, tried many fun foods and drinks, spent way too much money, and had an absolute blast. I am so incredibly thankful that my break wasn’t just one week later and that my friend and I were able to travel back smoothly and safely. 

To everyone out there, keep your spirits up, do your part, stay healthy, and spread joy not germs <3 Wishing you all the best!

2020/03/09

Jeden den Fulbrightisty Jarona Tomaštíka na Virginia Tech

Napsal Mgr. Jan Tomáštík, Ph.D. z Přírodovědecké fakulty Univerzity Palackého v Olomouci ze Společné laboratoře optiky, který momentálně působí na Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University v Blacksburgu ve Virginii.


Otevírám rozespalé oči a rychle vyhrávám nekonečný souboj s budíkem. Díky tomu neprobudím mou ženu, která si díky medikaci pospí trochu déle. Snažím se chytit trendy života ve Virginii, takže si z krabice sypu americké vločky do amerického mléka a v americky obrovském dvoupatrovém bytě se připravuji na další den vědátora v USA.

Pracovat ve vědě má i své nevýhody – prokletí, že nikdy nevypnete mozek a nikdy nemáte doděláno. Ale velkou výhodou naopak je, že máte práci jako hobby, a vaším denním chlebem je vždycky aspoň špetka nového poznání. S vědou se navíc pojí cestování. Dříve díky konferencím a tréninkům, nyní díky vědecké spolupráci jsem už pobyl v Británii i na největším teleskopu na planetě v Argentině. Cílem vědce musí být neustrnout a nestagnovat – a hlavně proto jsem před rokem napnul síly a přihlásil jsem se o Fulbright-Masarykovo stipendium. Právě díky němu se nyní probouzím za oceánem na ročním vědeckém pobytu na Virginia Tech.

Zdejší maloměstský Blacksburg není typické americké město z představ Evropana, a to je jen dobře. Hustá autobusová síť doveze člověka kamkoliv po univerzitním kampusu i mimo něj. Moje výzkumné středisko sídlí na okraji města.

Je pátek, ale na výzkum to nemá moc vliv. Jedna ze dvou ranních schůzek s mou šéfovou, profesorkou materiálové chemie, proběhla už včera, takže dnes mi tempo určuje především volné okno u přístrojů. Je nás v týmu osm – směsku místních, indických, čínských a korejských studentů okořeňuje jeden Čech. Všichni se o místo u mašin, přesněji u tří vysokoteplotních pecí, musíme poprat.

Můj výzkum sice nejde zrovna po másle, ale to už je úděl objevování nových materiálů i zkoumání nových využití pro materiály známé. Laboratoř mě kromě kanonády "Hi, how are you?" ve všech možných přízvucích vítá pachem rozpouštědel. Na ruce nasazuji slušivé gumové rukavice, na uši sluchátka a začínám dle zápisků z předchozího dne připravovat snad úspěšnější směs polymerů než včera. Zkouška, omyl, náprava, další zkouška – takhle vypadá všední tvář vědy.

Experimenty přeruším pozdním obědem krabičkového typu a volnější čas využiji pro svou další velkou vášeň – popularizaci vědy. Banda neskutečně šikovných studentů v olomouckém spolku UP Crowd si už dávno dokáže zorganizovat své aktivity i beze mě, přesto ale přispěji alespoň radou po síti. Až po návratu se snad víc zapojím do výjezdů na střední i základní školy. Momentálně proto napínám více sil do stránky Vědátor, kde se s kolegou - publicistou a dalšími popularizátory snažíme psát články i točit videa o vědě zábavněji, než je zvykem, aniž bychom obětovli hloubku.

Odpoledne se mezi popularizačními statusy, toluenem, ethanolem i acetonem rychle přehoupne do večera. Dnešní poloúspěchy i slepé cesty zapíšu do zápisníku a mizím ven. V Česku jsem často v labině zůstával do nočních hodin, tady si ale člověk musí víc hlídat duševní zdraví. Dnešní konec pracovního týdne je navíc výjimečný.

Moje žena uplynulé měsíce kromě hledání práce využila i k tvorbě akrylových obrazů pro rozvíjející se uměleckou dráhu. Večer začíná její výstava. Z práce se tak zodpovědně přesouvá celá mezinárodní suita i s profesorkou podpořit v útulné galerii její téma "umění a psychologické poruchy". Sama s jednou takovou bojuje a medikace jí pomáhá běžný život výrazně usnadnit.

Středoevropskou duši ale ani za velkou louží nezapřeme – a tak si tenhle sváteční den zaslouží zakončení zlatavým mokem & bublinkovou limonádou. Další den v Americe je za námi a než se za pět měsíců vrátíme domů, hodláme zdejší příležitosti ještě pořádně chytit za pačesy.


Fulbright-Masarykovo stipendium podporuje dlouhodobé pobyty českých doktorandů, vědců a vysokoškolských pedagogů v USA, aby prováděli výzkum. Program je určen vědeckým pracovníkům, kteří jsou nejenom vynikajícími odborníky ve své vědecké oblasti ale současně jsou aktivní v občanském nebo veřejném životě svých institucí nebo komunit.

2020/03/02

Masopust: A Spring Fever Dream Festival

by Madison Kambic (current English teaching Assistant in Ostrava)



I had the privilege of attending one of the strangest culture-bomb events I have ever seen in my life.

What is Masopust? The way my Czech friend-of-a-friend explained it to me was this: it’s a three-in-one festival in early spring. It’s a combination of Czech Mardi Gras, a welcoming of the spring season, and the beginning of a “fertility” period.


I hadn’t planned to attend, but I found myself in Prague with an invite and nothing else planned for that day. I arrived at the festival with a few other Fulbrighters; three scholars and myself as an English Teaching Assistant. Also joining us was a group of NYU students and their Czech professor, Matej, for the festival.

What first got me curious was the amount of people on the train to the festival. We were only travelling three stops from a smaller Prague station, but the train was 
p a c k e d with people. Almost everyone was wearing a costume. There wasn’t a central theme; whatever you could find or make would fit. Not wanting to be left out, I took my headband from my pocket, plucked a few leaves off of a bush, and stuck them in to be a forest fairy. Among the costumes, we saw multiple elves, cats, musicians, angels, devils, and chickens.

So. Many. Chickens. (More on that soon).


Upon arriving at the fairgrounds, we surveyed the surroundings. There were several small children pulling wagons behind them selling kolaches (small pastries and cakes) for 10-50 Czech crowns (about $0.50-$2.00). What also shocked me were the giant costumes people had. We saw a chicken, moth, and a polar bear. I assumed people had made these just for the festival, but apparently you could go into a building nearby and rent one for free for the day. A few of our NYU friends got some giant chicken heads made of papier-mâché and joined in the fun. These giant chicken heads became our beacon in the crowd to find our way to each other if we got separated.


One detail I want to note was the polar bear costume. It was huge, maybe twelve feet tall, and many women were walking up to it. I went to join in, but Matej stopped me.

“Madison, they say if you dance with the bear, you will be pregnant within the next year.”

I paused. I quickly decided that staying put and sipping my drink would be a better idea than embracing the bear.

After walking and talking for a bit, the crowd started to shift. We began walking up a spiraling path to the other end of the small town. We were going to meet two other villages who were participating in the same Masopust for a final gathering at sunset. Once again, this was one of the most unusual events I have ever attended. Hundreds of singing people, dressed in any costume imaginable, meandering their way through this town in a parade.

We made our way to a giant field, where we stopped at snack stalls for frgál (cheese and poppyseed cake). Then, we continued walking to another field, where we finally met up with the other two villages.

So there I am, standing in the middle of a muddy field with multiple chicken heads surrounding me as bush branches scratch my face, watching the sun lower in a fiery sunset. I’m surrounded by at least a thousand other people, when we start to grab hands with one another and slowly back up to make a circle.

We continue moving backwards. The circle is growing larger and wider and farther, until my arms are stretched tight and everyone is half screaming, half laughing. Then, we run.

Everyone sprints to the middle of the giant circle we made and starts jumping, yelling, laughing, and dancing. All people young and old are joining the fun. I have no idea what’s happening or what the announcer is screaming into her megaphone. But I love it.

We start to form another circle where we are each given a paper bag to inflate. I inflate my bag and stand at the ready. We watch several parties come into the center, including a man in a horse costume, multiple girls in traditional folk dresses with brooms, a couple on stilts, and the announcer.

At this point, the sun has set and it’s dark. The circle is lit by flashlights and string lights within the giant costumes. The announcer starts spouting a tale in Czech to everyone, one of which I imagine tells about the welcoming of spring. She’s talking to the horse. The girls are dancing. The couple on stilts are prancing around. The announcer continues announcing. Then, she looks at the crowd, everyone gets their paper bags ready, and at her command, we pop them simultaneously.

Tragically, the horse falls to the ground as we have “killed” him. The girls start dancing their way out of the crowd. The couple on stilts leaves. Then, magically, our announcer coos at the horse and he arises from the dead. Everyone shouts for joy, and the dancing begins again.

I frolic around the field with mud in my shoes and giant chicken beaks to my left and right. It was certainly not how I had planned the day to go, but I was very glad it did.

The festival ended shortly after. We walked back to the bus station and returned the costumes. I then woefully removed my branches, and spoke with the scholars and NY students.

“This was one of the craziest and coolest fever-dream things I’ve ever been to. I’m going to remember it for the rest of my life,” remarked one of the students.

Yeah, me too.

2020/02/24

Creative Writing in the Czech Classroom


By Hallie O’Neill, Gymnázium Cheb


When I applied for my Fulbright teaching assistantship, I said that I wanted to implement creative writing into my lessons. I wasn’t sure how feasible this goal would be, because I didn’t know if my students’ English would be at a high enough level to do so.


Luckily, I’m teaching in a pretty advanced gymnázium, and the level of ability I see in my students quite often astounds me. They are more than capable of writing creatively, and some of them even write in their free time. That isn’t to say they’re totally receptive to the idea, though.


Creative writing isn’t for everyone. Even when I was in high school, there were always students in my writing classes who just didn’t “get” the fun of it, or didn’t find any enjoyment in writing stories and using imagination in that way. It’s no different here. While there are some secret poets or the occasional student who wants to be a writer herself, there are many others who have no interest in attempting it, perhaps thinking they don’t even have the ability to write creatively in the first place.

Sometimes when I tell a class that “we’re going to do some writing today,” I get a few eye rolls and sighs of dread. I’ve consistently seen a lack of confidence when it comes to expressing creativity, and I’ve come to learn that it’s because they don’t get many chances to create in their regular classes.

It’s taken a lot of trial and error, but I’m lucky I’ve had the ability to test-drive all kinds of writing types to see what works well. We’ve written opinion paragraphs, journal entries, emails, short stories, nonfiction, and more. I’ve found that in order to fully engage everyone, small group or partner writing works extremely well, because all members share the role of storyteller and there’s less pressure to create something monumental all on your own — instead, it’s just fun.

One activity that worked incredibly well was something a little nonconventional. I had them write a story about me. The kicker was that it had to be based off of real facts, which they were required to obtain from me by writing specific questions (with correct grammar and punctuation) on small pieces of paper. Like passing notes, I’d write my answer and hand the paper back to them, and with these facts they could piece together their story. Quite a bit of vulnerability was required on my part, but that’s actually what made the activity function as successfully as it did. There was some kind of special thrill for them — suddenly having immediate access to whatever in the world they wanted to ask me about, and I had to tell the truth — that engaged truly every student involved, even the ones who sigh when I say that it’s a writing day.

Another one of my favorite lessons was one about Valentine’s Day, which I paired with a recycled ETA lesson about metaphors and similes. At the end of the class, I had them try to write their own little love poems, and since I’ve gotten to know the Czechs’ dark sense of humor a little more intimately, I wasn’t too surprised by some of their sarcastic quips.

















We’ve also done circle storytelling, where the students sit in small groups and begin writing a story for about two minutes. Once that time is up, they pass their papers clockwise around the small circle, and they write for another two minutes in continuation of the new story in front of them. By the time the stories have been passed around completely and returned back to their original writers, each story’s trajectory is likely much different than they first imagined it would be. There’s all kinds of circle and group storytelling tools out there — I get a lot of my ideas from the British Council, lesson sharing websites, and my fellow ETAs.


One of my most recent classroom endeavors was comic writing. After reading some American comic strips and practicing writing new ones together, I tasked them with creating their own small comic strip, preparing the narrative first with a story map and then drawing the illustrations and filling in the speech bubbles. Again, I was impressed that even the quietest students had something to show at the end of the class period, many of their creations funny enough to stand next to the Peanuts and Family Circus strips I showed them beforehand (but of course keeping that very unique sense of humor).



It’s rewarding and always entertaining to see the creative work they produce. Even more rewarding is to hear from them personally that they are grateful for the opportunities I’ve given them to create. Most of them are completely open-minded to the ideas I throw at them, and I’m so lucky I’ve been placed at a school like this one where I have the ability to do these types of activities. As you can see, they certainly have all sorts of untapped imagination.

2020/02/17

Czech Prom Season: A Story of a Feathered Raffle Win


Authors: Griffin Trau, Katie Winner, Alanna Powers (current Fulbright ETAs)


If you’re an American, chances are we all had similar prom experiences in high school. Usually a few weeks before graduation, boys ask girls to the prom. Girls buy a fancy dress, and boys a nice suit with a matching tie. Prom night consists of about an hour of picture taking with your date and friend group, followed by a ride to prom in a nice car or a limo. The dance itself is about three hours long, and the only people in attendance are typically students at the school with a handful of teacher chaperones. After prom ends, around 10 or 11 p.m., all the students leave and go their separate ways for the night, usually to a post-prom hang out.

After attending six (and counting!) Czech proms, I can confidently state that Czech proms are nothing like American proms. At all.

My school, Střední Škola Informatiky a Služeb, is a technical school with seven different concentrations of study. Of these seven, six of them take the Maturita exam at the end of their fourth year, the passing of which allows the students to graduate from high school. Each of these six concentrations has its own prom that takes place sometime between January and February. The point of the Czech prom is less of a symbolic ending of times the way it is in America, and is more like a ceremony, acknowledging the hard work that the students have done and encouraging them for this final step of Maturita that lies ahead in a few months. Although American prom is a symbol for the end of high school, Czech prom is more like a ceremony that acknowledges the hard work that the students have done and encourages them for their future, specifically their Maturita exam. Basically, it is a night of dancing and fun before the fourth year students get serious about studying for their exams.


I was lucky enough to go to three of my own secondary school’s proms, and two with another Fulbright ETA in the town of Rakovník. All five of these proms were organized entirely by the students — they were responsible for finding a venue, selling tickets, providing music and anything else that was included in the night. The first big difference that I noticed was the crowd. Czech prom is a family affair. Moms, dads, grandparents and young children were in attendance. Other attendees included friends of the students and alumni of the school. All of the students’ former teachers and their spouses were also invited to the affair.. However, there is no real need for the students to give an invitation to anyone, because the proms are open to anyone who wants to buy a ticket.

 
The night usually starts around 7 or 8 p.m. with some kind of show. My cosmetology students put on their own hip-hop routine, complete with matching camo outfits. The students in Rakovník hired a woman and her dog to do agility tricks on the dance floor. After this opening performance, there was time to find a seat and get a drink. Since the drinking age in the Czech Republic is 18, prom would not be complete without a bar. As the prom is a night of celebration, many of my students invited me to take a shot with them, something that is perfectly acceptable here. 

The next big event of the evening is the sash ceremony. Each member of the class lined up in the middle of the dance floor, and one by one the students’ names were called. When each name was called, the student would walk down the dancefloor to a favorite song, kind of like a walk-up song in baseball. Some of the most popular songs from this year were “Dance Monkey” and “Old Town Road,” which is exactly what I would have expected if this were an American event. As the students walk down the dance floor, friends and loved ones throw coins at them as a symbol of good luck. Although this can be quite a profitable experience, it can be rather painful as well—I witnessed at least three students get bopped in the head by a Koruna. Once the students reach the end of their walk, their head teacher gives them sashes with their names and the year on it. This ceremony is the biggest part of the evening, as each student is officially deemed ready to take the Maturita exam. 


After this ceremony, there is a lot of dancing. It is not the dancing you would see at an American prom. Almost all Czech students take formal ballroom dancing lessons for at least a year, and many Czech people continue to take these lessons as a hobby. Because of this, there are many formal dances with traditional Czech songs, such as “Srdce nehasnou,” by Karel Gott, who is one of the most successful Czech singers of all time. However, the prom is still an event for the teenagers, so these types of dances are mixed in with today’s top hits.

After many hours of dancing and drinking, the clock strikes midnight, which means it is time for the midnight surprise. This is a performance planned, like everything else, by the students. The performance is more free-spirited than anything else in the evening. Most of the midnight surprises I saw included scantily clad students dancing to pop songs. As an American, it’s hard to imagine my 18-year-old self (or my 22-year-old self) doing something like a strip tease in front of all of my teachers and my entire family, but it is nothing short of the norm in the Czech Republic. At the end of this performance, the students gather together, take off their sashes, and stomp on them as a symbol of good luck.

This part of the night signifies a change of pace for the rest of the evening. The music changes to almost exclusively pop, and prom turns into more of a club atmosphere. One of the proms I went to even hired a DJ from Prague for the post-midnight hours. Judging by the students’ reactions, he seemed to be a pretty big deal.

The partying rages on until 2 in the morning, when the students’ night in the spotlight comes to an end. Their job is not quite done, however, because the next morning they will all wake up, get dressed and go back to the dance floor—this time to clean up the mess from the night before. 

Although the bulk of my formal season consisted of attending my fourth-year students’ proms, the kids are not the only ones that like to dress up and have a good time. The majority of Czech towns, villages, and even community clubs also have their own winter formal events. I was lucky enough to receive an invitation from my mentor to the Dubenec Hunters’ Ball. Dubenec is a village with a population just under 700 people, located about 10 kilometers from my “home”town, Dvůr Králové nad Labem.

At first, the ball didn’t appear to be anything out of the ordinary. I had another Fulbright ETA visiting me for the weekend, and the two of us got beers and found seats near my mentor and her husband. Eventually my mentor asked us if we wanted to check out the “tombola,” which is Czech for raffle. All of the secondary school proms have a tombola, so I wasn’t surprised that the Hunters’ Ball would have one as well. My mentor told us that the prizes were in the basement, and led us downstairs to see what they were. 


I have never had so many pairs of eyes stare at me at once. There, hanging on strings from the ceiling, were at least 30 dead pheasants. Across from them were another 15 dead ducks, and propped up on the wall were the grand prizes: four dead deer and two dead wild boars. My mentor, seeing the obvious shock on our faces, explained that this was a completely normal tradition. A village hunter kills a deer and raffles it off at the ball a week or so later. Besides the multiple animal corpses in the room, there was also the chance to win homemade salamis, cakes, flowers and other smaller prizes. We were told we could purchase tickets later that night. We joked about how funny it would be to win one of the animals, although neither of us have much experience skinning game, or even a place in our flats to store the meat.

Back upstairs, we had the option to eat a dinner of the hunter’s meat, prepared by their wives. The menu included deer medallions with raisins, wild boar with mushrooms, and gulaš. Although I wasn’t hungry, my friend ordered the venison, which was very fresh and tasty.

During our meal, the tombola ticket seller came by, and we bought our first round of tickets. It was 10kc for a ticket, which is about 0.40 USD each. We bought 10, and as we started to open them up we both had the same thought: “How funny would it be if we won a pheasant?”

With a new goal in mind, we ripped through all 10 tickets. To our dismay, each ticket was blank, indicating that we hadn’t won anything. However, we were determined. We could see the tombola man in the other room, still selling tickets. We ran to him, held out ten fingers and said “Deset, prosím!” (“ten, please!”) as we handed him another 100kc.

We tore through the tickets with even greater fervor, and this time, we won twice. We had two cards with numbers written on them, one said “152” and the other said “203.” My mentor told us that since our numbers were higher, we would not be getting any of the huge prizes, but we may have gotten some pretty decent ones.

After about another hour of dancing, it was time for the tombola ceremony. Since there were about 300 prizes, only the grand prize winners (the boars and the deer winners) participated in the ceremony. The boar and deer corpses were laid out on the dancefloor, and the people who had drawn the lucky numbers were called up to claim their prizes. The winners stood by their animals, and shook hands with the hunters who killed them and took shots, the animals officially changing hands.

After this experience, the people who had won smaller items could go down into the basement to claim their prizes. As we pushed through the crowd, we searched to see which prize matched the number on our ticket. When we finally saw it, we couldn’t believe our eyes! A pheasant! We had actually done it! My mentor was quite confused as to why we were excited. “There’s barely any meat in that,” she told us. We didn’t care, because for two kids from the East coast of the United States, winning any sort of game bird at a hunters’ ball in the northeast Czech Republic was a pretty big deal. 



Proud of our bird, whom I lovingly named František before being told you shouldn’t name something you plan to eat, we took some beautiful photos together before he was taken away to the trunk of my mentors car.

In the following days, our František would become a soup. But I know that no matter where life takes me, I will always remember my party fowl.

(Photos by Klára Horáčková and Griffin Trau)

2020/02/07




Šoky kulturní a jiné

autorka: Ida Vohryzková, učitelka angličtiny na VOŠ zdravotnické a SŠ zdravotnické Ústí nad Labem


Ida Vohryzková na konci ledna odletěla do amerického Ohia na šestitýdenní školení o posilování kritického myšlení a mediální gramotnosti na středních školách. Spolu s další českou kolegyní z Gymnázia Tišnov a asi 30 účastníky z celého světa se nyní účastní workshopů i přednášek na univerzitě Kent State. Ve druhé části pobytu všechny čeká praxe na americké střední škole a závěrečný týden ve Washingtonu, D.C. Ida a další tři středoškolští učitelé z různých koutů České republiky před rokem zvítězili ve výběrovém řízení do programu Fulbright Teaching Excellence and Achievemnt (TEA). Podrobnosti o programu najdete zde.   

únor 2020

Vezměte si dvě ale úplně stejný letadla - jedno je evropský, jedno americký, který si vyberu? Vůbec bych tomu nevěřila, ale ty americký přistávají asi jinak - moje uši byly v pohodě. A přede mnou bylo mimino a taky nic, takže mám svědka. Malýho, ale přece. A znáte moje uši - po tom prvním letu do Amstru mi odlehly až po dvou hodinách. Zkrátka jedu právě na špici vlny kulturního šoku - všechno je obrovský (auta, sloupy, odpadkový koše, borůvky, toastovej chleba, postele, mezery mezi slovy (asi bych se tady mohla zpomalit) dokonce i zářivky - ráda bych věřila, že jsou úsporný.

I popelnice jsou velký - odpadu je spousta - neustále dostáváme plastové či jiné jednorázové nádoby - i u snídaně jsou smetánky do kafe ty malinký plastový kelímky, případně si můžu vzít malou krabičku mlíka. V budovách kampusu se třídí, to je pravda.

A klimatizace jede všude naplno - teplý vzduch ohřívá místnost a jakmile je dosažena teplota, zase se chladí. Okna z bezpečnostních důvodů nelze otevřít, takže mám v plicích poušť a můj environmetální žal neutichá. Teď jsme zaháněly chmury promýšlením programu na čtyři volné dny, které jsou před námi - zaletíme si do New Yorku.


Takže vyrývám ekologickou ne stopu, ale brázdu. To samé je to se stopou digitální - neustále někam zadáváme osobní údaje, fotíme se... Takže jeden blog k tomu mě už nerozhází.

Říká se, že Američani jsou milí, ale je to přetvářka. Tak milí jsou, neuvěřitelně. A nevěřím tomu, že to není opradvový. Opět mám důkazy, tentokrát mnoho a velký. Organizátoři vkládají do přípravy nejen spoustu energie, ale myslím, že i kus srdce, jsem ohromená. Naposledy včera - byli jsme pozvaní na party k Dr. Lindě Robertson, které ale všichni říkáme vesele Linda. Je to anděl v lidské podobě. Cestou tam v busíku navrhla Dragana (Severní Makedonie), že každá země něco zazpívá. Ona sama znala snad všechny zpívané písně a byl to kouzelnej zážitek.

Zaplnili jsme Lindin dům a přenesli se na celý večer na Havaj. Na chodbě měla perokresby evropských staveb a obrázek Týnského chrámu mě trochu dojal :-) Myslím, že bych Lindu přirovnala k Heini, jen je asi o 75 cm menší. Její dům je taky pohádkový (až jsem z toho začala být způsobně spisovná).

Na dnešek nám objednali i slunce, abychom si užili výlet. Keith (náš mediální lektor) nás odvezl, povozil po krásách a zas dovezl zpět. Svačinku v biokvalitě a skořicový chewing gums průběžně nabízel všem a v kufru měl hromadu čepic, rukavic, bund a dalšího jídla pro nás. Takže - vidíte tu nějakou hranou zdvořilost?

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