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?

Líbil se Vám tento příspěvek? Sledujte blog Idy Vohryzkové na: https://idavohiu.blogspot.com/

2020/01/27

An incredible Fulbright adventure

by Alanna Powers (current English teaching Assistant)


Standing over a bowl  in my school’s small kitchen, I ask one of my students to hand me the butter. He picks up the block of butter on the counter and reads it out loud, “maslo s rostlinným tukem.” 
He shoots me a confused look. “Well, this isn’t going to make our Thanksgiving mashed potatoes taste very good.”
“What?” I reply. “Why not?” 
“Because it’s not butter. It’s butter mixed with vegetable fat.” 
As a Fulbright English Teaching Assistant in the Czech Republic, mix ups like this happen at least once a week. However, it’s these messy and sometimes embarrassing moments that make the Fulbright experience so special. 
I live in Dvůr Králové nad Labem, a small town in the North-Central part of the country. For context, the town is about a 40 minute’s drive to Poland, and it takes about an hour and a half to get to Prague. About 16,000 people call Dvůr home, making it a tight-knit and friendly community. I teach at Střední Škola Informatiky a Služeb (School of Informatics and Services). It is a secondary technical school in which students ages 14 to 20 study in a variety of concentrations. Students can apply to any secondary school of their choice, and at my school they have the option to study tourism, hotel services, law enforcement, chemistry, I.T., cosmetology or hairdressing. With such a diverse range of students in this small community, each day holds its own unique challenges and joys, which makes for an incredible Fulbright adventure. 

Monday

On Monday morning, I teach a mix of first-year and fourth-year classes. This makes for an interesting day because some of the first-year students have just started to learn English in these past couple of months, while some of the fourth-years are basically fluent speakers. The fourth-years are preparing to take their Maturita exams, which they need to pass in order to graduate from secondary school. In these classes, we focus on the topics they will need to know for the test, but we also work on their speaking skills so that they are also prepared for the oral portion of the exam. In the afternoon, I teach a class of adult learners. These students are taking their first ever English class. We work on basics like the verb “to be” and the present tense. Each week I watch them become more comfortable with their English speaking skills.

Tuesday

Tuesday has become my “me” day, because it’s the only day of the week when I don’t do something extra outside of my classes. After I teach in the morning, I usually do some grocery shopping. Then, I spend the afternoon and the evening practicing my Czech, reading a book, calling family and friends at home or watching Netflix. Although I love everything that I get to do at my school and in my community, I’ve really come to value this alone time as well. Life as an ETA can be really exhausting because I feel the need to be “on” all the time. Having this evening for myself is not only great, but necessary. 

Wednesday

On Wednesday I co-teach classes with my mentor. We create a lesson plan that ensures both of us do certain tasks do throughout the lesson. We learn a lot about teaching by practicing this method, and the students enjoy it because it keeps the lesson fresh for the full 45 minutes. Once, we did a “KWL” lesson about the United States. We had the students write down what they already knew about the USA, and what they wanted to learn about the USA. Then, we had them read an article about the country. Once they were done reading they wrote down and presented their newfound knowledge to the class. Activities like this keep my Wednesdays fun and interesting.
I spend my afternoons at my American Culture club. All of my students are invited to join me as we practice English by speaking, watching a movie or cooking together. This is a great way to get to know my students outside of a classroom setting. 
Every Wednesday evening, I go to my yoga class. This class has provided me with a tightly-knit,  open group of Czech friends, and it allows me to have a relaxing end to my hump day. 


Thursday 

When I am done being a teacher on Thursday, I become the student. I grab my text book and head to a teacher’s office to have my weekly Czech tutoring session. Now, I know my right (doprava) from my left (doleva) and how to order at a restaurant. Everyone warned me that Czech is a very hard language, and they were right. However, each week I learn a little bit more and it becomes easier. 
Later in the evening, I have my weekly English lesson with more advanced adults. Each week I print out a list of questions and we practice conversational speaking. It is wonderful to watch these adult learners develop their English speaking skills. 


Friday

Fridays are very different than any other day at school. That is because I teach a first-year double-lesson with a teacher who is still attending university, so we are roughly the same age. He executes a debate method of teaching. Each week, we have the students take a side on a certain issue,  creating arguments and counter-arguments all in English. Our goal is to have the students engage in a full debate like the ones they see on TV by April. It is fascinating to watch how quickly their English skills have improved from participating in the debates. 
In the evenings, I usually go to a nearby town called Trutnov with some friends I met at  a nearby university. We will spend the evening at a pub, or out for dinner or bowling. I have found that some Czech beer and good company is the perfect way to end a wild week.     

  

Saturday/Sunday

Just like weekends in the United States, I use Sundays in the Czech Republic as a way to relax and recharge for the week to come. I am a member of a women’s running club in my town. On weekend mornings we meet somewhere in the town and run together for an hour or so. In the afternoons I spend time with my mentor and her family. My mentor and I make lunch together (which is the big meal of the day for the Czechs), and the whole family will eat together. Afterwards, we go on some type of adventure. It might be a walk through her village, or other times we do something bigger like drive to Mlada Boleslav, a town about an hour from Dvůr, to go to the Škoda museum. On Sunday nights, I plan for the week ahead. I usually pick one theme to teach each class every week, and I vary the lessons depending on the students’ skill levels. Finally, I write up a lesson plan and send them to my co-teachers so that we are both prepared for the week. 
Whether it be buying the wrong butter or some other blunder, there is always some sort of chaos involved in my weeks as an ETA. However, my weekly routine helps me stay stable and accepted at my school and in my community, which makes even the moments of disorder seem beautiful. 

me teaching at my school
my Mentor’s son and I baking cookies at their house

ladies from my running club