Teresa Contino is a creative writer, 
a mindful observer, and a fresh Fulbright ETA alumna. In May 2023, she graduated with a B.A. in English and Psychology from Santa Clara University in California. Teresa plans to use concepts of cognitive psychology to design visitors’ experiences in museums and art galleries. To prepare herself for these future plans, Teresa wanted to sharpen her pedagogical skills and broaden her culture perspective by spending a year in an environment significantly different from her own. Given her liberal arts background and passion for literature, mindfulness, crafts, and creative writing, Teresa was placed at Jiráskovo gymnázium Náchod, a college-preparatory high school, located in a town of 20,000 in northeast Bohemia. Before embarking on her trans-Atlantic journey, Teresa did her research on how to have a successful Fulbright experience. Finding the advice from the program alumni to be somewhat daunting and intangible, she began to contemplate how one encourages personal transformation. With time, an open mind, and humble curiosity, she has cultivated a sense of wonder in every interaction, no matter the size, with her students, colleagues, friends and the local community of Náchod. Today, about two weeks after the end of her Fulbright grant, Teresa fully understands the “inner transformation” that her Fulbright predecessors tried to describe.
The summer before leaving for my 10-month stay in Náchod, Czech Republic, I remember reaching out to previous ETAs on LinkedIn or email about their Fulbright experience. Fresh out of my undergraduate studies at Santa Clara University, I was used to the routine of the start of the academic year, and my type-A tendencies told me to prepare the best way I knew how for the upcoming adventure.
I got great tangible tips from the previous ETAs, and usually, they ended their responses with phrases like “intensely transformative,” “jumping into unknown situations,” and “inner reflection.” Trying to wrap my head around these wonderful yet rather daunting concepts, I started to contemplate, "What does it mean to open oneself up to change and how can we remember to implement little habits every day to invite inner transformation?”
Upon arriving in the Czech Republic, I was immediately met with open arms – my mentor Zdena and colleague Štěpán were waiting for me at the Prague airport (despite a 4-hour delay) to drive me and my 60-pound (overweight) bags to Náchod. I stayed in my mentor’s house that night and slept to the “sound of the forest” in the “beautiful hills of Branka” as Zdena put it, and woke up to a breakfast spread of cucumber and tomato salad, (many) espressos, yogurt, freshly picked wild blueberries, and “chléb.” That morning Zdena looked into my eyes and said, “I want you to feel like this is your home too.”
Finding “home” in this foreign place started to feel possible as I accepted each current moment. I realized if I leaned into trust and curiosity, I could rely on the connections I had already made to stay present. Despite the haze of jetlag and lingering anxiety, I let go and started to feel okay with the swath of the unknown. In fact, I began to worry about the future less and accept the current moment.
Photo: Teresa and Pavla picking pears in Bražec, summer 2023, Náchod.
That same weekend, I met my landlord Zdeněk, and his children Petr, Pavla, and Honza. I would later teach Pavla at Jiráskovo gymnázium and tutor Honza on Friday evenings. They invited me and Zdena to their house in the countryside to pick pears, play ping pong (of which I lost by a landslide), and enjoy schnitzel and mashed potatoes. The next day, Zdena and I took a day trip to Hospital Kuks where I met some fellow ETA’s in my “nest”: Julia, Ben, Marley, and Leah whom I would soon become close friends with. Together we tried some pickled sausages, sauerkraut, and other fermented foods at a pop-up Bublatorium.
Photo: Marley, Leah, and Ben meeting for the first time at Kuks Hospital, September 2023.
I treasure this memory of my wonderful first weekend in the corners of my mind. Little did I know that this very special weekend would be a typical weekend for me in the Czech Republic.
When my work week started, I realized that instead of scheduling my day around my assignments and a rigid Google calendar, my workday consisted of enacting conversation with people. I would usually center my lesson plans on a particular topic like food, happiness, holidays, or travel; first, I’d describe the topic from an American perspective, and then learn from my students about their opinions or different ways of thinking.
Photo: Teresa and her mentor Zdena in Liblice, August 2023.
In these everyday seemingly mundane moments, I felt myself cultivating a sense of ongoing wonder. Creating a positive atmosphere with students, welcoming unexpected confusion, and listening to students’ stories. I started valuing even the small moments of transition – packing my bag for school, walking up the steps to the Náchod castle, taking the train to see other ETAs, or buying strawberries from the fruit shop in the square.
Photo: Teresa teaching in the classroom at Jiráskovo gymnázium, January 2024, Náchod.
12th-century Chan master Hongzhi wrote that to study, “You must brush away all the tendencies you have fabricated into apparent habits. Then you can reside in the clear circle of brightness…With thoughts clear, sitting silently, wander into the center of the circle of wonder.” He later writes that culture shock and obstacles to learning behaviors outside of usual thinking patterns are typical examples of this mindfulness effect.
Czech poet Petr Váša offers a metaphor that further encapsulates the concept of wonder. At a poetry slam performance that I attended with Zdena at my school, he described the image of children lifting a rock to see what lies underneath. This probing for what lies beneath the rock is not a sign of weakness, but rather this “I don’t know mind” nourishes one’s capacity for creativity and courage.
Limitations of our knowledge are where curiosity begins. I realized that despite the language and cultural barriers I faced living in Náchod if I asked more questions and listened more, I felt more capable of making a difference. When I absorbed people’s stories, witnessed the ebb and flow of the workweek, and stayed curious without a desired outcome, I felt that I belonged in this foreign space. It is no surprise that some synonyms of “wonder” as a verb are “puzzle, question, meditate, and marvel.” Antonyms of the word include, “certainty, disregard, disinterest, expectation, and apathy.”
During the cold winter months, I attended meditation meetings on Wednesdays at 7:15 am, organized by my students. I was astonished by their willingness and initiative to sit in silence for twenty minutes and discuss mindfulness practices before their hectic school day. Then, on Thursday evenings, I hosted creative writing workshops to invite another form of mindfulness practice: writing uninterruptedly for 15 to 20 minutes. Sometimes students shared excerpts of their poetry or the start of their short stories (written in English!) and we talked about writing processes, obstacles, and tips for future writing practice.
Just as my experiences with culture shock catalyzed the practice of “wander[ing] into the center of the circle of wonder,” my students led as examples to me of how to implement mindfulness practices with ease.
Photo: Last English club meeting of the spring semester – a picnic under the castle, June 2024, Náchod.
Another habit that I acquired while living in the Czech Republic was stepping into nature. As a Los Angeles native, I had always considered myself a hiker but never to the extent I soon learned from my Czech friends. When descending from the top of Sněžka, the tallest mountain in the country, my student Aneta said, “Wait! Do you hear that?” And our group all stopped and paused. She said, “It is totally quiet. No cars, no people, just trees and birds.” I felt mindful, and deeply aware of the present moment by stopping together, taking it all in, and letting the aliveness of nature activate my sense of wonder.
Photo: Teresa, Aneta, Pavla, and Kristýna at the top of Sněžka, December 2023.
My mentor Zdena shared with me a few more examples of noticing nature – that she “feels spring in the ground” or that “leaves are playing hide and seek in the dirt.” Recognizing the intrinsic beauty of life around us stimulates gratitude for all things.
As a recent college graduate, I had characterized growth with operating the hamster wheel of efficiency, productivity, and optimization. But in the Czech Republic, I learned that going on a walk in the forest or out for coffee with a colleague was radically accepted and encouraged as part of our jobs. I realized that this previously daunting concept of “inner transformation” was made possible by paying attention to every interaction and passing moment.
Photo: Hiking to the top of a lookout in the Teplice Mountains, fall 2023.
These opportunities for “wander” and “wonder” invite a sense of clarity, reset, and internal peace in a way that fosters deeper connections to life and others. Even in mundane moments, one can cultivate a sense of child-like inquisitiveness and appreciation.
Maya Angelou once said, “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” Now back home in California, I have taken all that I have learned from my community in Náchod – their generosity, brilliance, creativity, and how they made me feel. Still open to ongoing change and inner transformation, I look forward to seeing how my new friends and I sprinkle future instances of “wander” and “wonder” into our every moment.
Photo: A view of Náchod Castle from behind with hot air balloons in the distance, fall 2023.
I got great tangible tips from the previous ETAs, and usually, they ended their responses with phrases like “intensely transformative,” “jumping into unknown situations,” and “inner reflection.” Trying to wrap my head around these wonderful yet rather daunting concepts, I started to contemplate, "What does it mean to open oneself up to change and how can we remember to implement little habits every day to invite inner transformation?”
Upon arriving in the Czech Republic, I was immediately met with open arms – my mentor Zdena and colleague Štěpán were waiting for me at the Prague airport (despite a 4-hour delay) to drive me and my 60-pound (overweight) bags to Náchod. I stayed in my mentor’s house that night and slept to the “sound of the forest” in the “beautiful hills of Branka” as Zdena put it, and woke up to a breakfast spread of cucumber and tomato salad, (many) espressos, yogurt, freshly picked wild blueberries, and “chléb.” That morning Zdena looked into my eyes and said, “I want you to feel like this is your home too.”
Finding “home” in this foreign place started to feel possible as I accepted each current moment. I realized if I leaned into trust and curiosity, I could rely on the connections I had already made to stay present. Despite the haze of jetlag and lingering anxiety, I let go and started to feel okay with the swath of the unknown. In fact, I began to worry about the future less and accept the current moment.
Photo: Teresa and Pavla picking pears in Bražec, summer 2023, Náchod.
That same weekend, I met my landlord Zdeněk, and his children Petr, Pavla, and Honza. I would later teach Pavla at Jiráskovo gymnázium and tutor Honza on Friday evenings. They invited me and Zdena to their house in the countryside to pick pears, play ping pong (of which I lost by a landslide), and enjoy schnitzel and mashed potatoes. The next day, Zdena and I took a day trip to Hospital Kuks where I met some fellow ETA’s in my “nest”: Julia, Ben, Marley, and Leah whom I would soon become close friends with. Together we tried some pickled sausages, sauerkraut, and other fermented foods at a pop-up Bublatorium.
Photo: Marley, Leah, and Ben meeting for the first time at Kuks Hospital, September 2023.
I treasure this memory of my wonderful first weekend in the corners of my mind. Little did I know that this very special weekend would be a typical weekend for me in the Czech Republic.
When my work week started, I realized that instead of scheduling my day around my assignments and a rigid Google calendar, my workday consisted of enacting conversation with people. I would usually center my lesson plans on a particular topic like food, happiness, holidays, or travel; first, I’d describe the topic from an American perspective, and then learn from my students about their opinions or different ways of thinking.
Photo: Teresa and her mentor Zdena in Liblice, August 2023.
In these everyday seemingly mundane moments, I felt myself cultivating a sense of ongoing wonder. Creating a positive atmosphere with students, welcoming unexpected confusion, and listening to students’ stories. I started valuing even the small moments of transition – packing my bag for school, walking up the steps to the Náchod castle, taking the train to see other ETAs, or buying strawberries from the fruit shop in the square.
Photo: Teresa teaching in the classroom at Jiráskovo gymnázium, January 2024, Náchod.
12th-century Chan master Hongzhi wrote that to study, “You must brush away all the tendencies you have fabricated into apparent habits. Then you can reside in the clear circle of brightness…With thoughts clear, sitting silently, wander into the center of the circle of wonder.” He later writes that culture shock and obstacles to learning behaviors outside of usual thinking patterns are typical examples of this mindfulness effect.
Czech poet Petr Váša offers a metaphor that further encapsulates the concept of wonder. At a poetry slam performance that I attended with Zdena at my school, he described the image of children lifting a rock to see what lies underneath. This probing for what lies beneath the rock is not a sign of weakness, but rather this “I don’t know mind” nourishes one’s capacity for creativity and courage.
Limitations of our knowledge are where curiosity begins. I realized that despite the language and cultural barriers I faced living in Náchod if I asked more questions and listened more, I felt more capable of making a difference. When I absorbed people’s stories, witnessed the ebb and flow of the workweek, and stayed curious without a desired outcome, I felt that I belonged in this foreign space. It is no surprise that some synonyms of “wonder” as a verb are “puzzle, question, meditate, and marvel.” Antonyms of the word include, “certainty, disregard, disinterest, expectation, and apathy.”
During the cold winter months, I attended meditation meetings on Wednesdays at 7:15 am, organized by my students. I was astonished by their willingness and initiative to sit in silence for twenty minutes and discuss mindfulness practices before their hectic school day. Then, on Thursday evenings, I hosted creative writing workshops to invite another form of mindfulness practice: writing uninterruptedly for 15 to 20 minutes. Sometimes students shared excerpts of their poetry or the start of their short stories (written in English!) and we talked about writing processes, obstacles, and tips for future writing practice.
Just as my experiences with culture shock catalyzed the practice of “wander[ing] into the center of the circle of wonder,” my students led as examples to me of how to implement mindfulness practices with ease.
Photo: Last English club meeting of the spring semester – a picnic under the castle, June 2024, Náchod.
Another habit that I acquired while living in the Czech Republic was stepping into nature. As a Los Angeles native, I had always considered myself a hiker but never to the extent I soon learned from my Czech friends. When descending from the top of Sněžka, the tallest mountain in the country, my student Aneta said, “Wait! Do you hear that?” And our group all stopped and paused. She said, “It is totally quiet. No cars, no people, just trees and birds.” I felt mindful, and deeply aware of the present moment by stopping together, taking it all in, and letting the aliveness of nature activate my sense of wonder.
Photo: Teresa, Aneta, Pavla, and Kristýna at the top of Sněžka, December 2023.
My mentor Zdena shared with me a few more examples of noticing nature – that she “feels spring in the ground” or that “leaves are playing hide and seek in the dirt.” Recognizing the intrinsic beauty of life around us stimulates gratitude for all things.
As a recent college graduate, I had characterized growth with operating the hamster wheel of efficiency, productivity, and optimization. But in the Czech Republic, I learned that going on a walk in the forest or out for coffee with a colleague was radically accepted and encouraged as part of our jobs. I realized that this previously daunting concept of “inner transformation” was made possible by paying attention to every interaction and passing moment.
Photo: Hiking to the top of a lookout in the Teplice Mountains, fall 2023.
These opportunities for “wander” and “wonder” invite a sense of clarity, reset, and internal peace in a way that fosters deeper connections to life and others. Even in mundane moments, one can cultivate a sense of child-like inquisitiveness and appreciation.
Maya Angelou once said, “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” Now back home in California, I have taken all that I have learned from my community in Náchod – their generosity, brilliance, creativity, and how they made me feel. Still open to ongoing change and inner transformation, I look forward to seeing how my new friends and I sprinkle future instances of “wander” and “wonder” into our every moment.
Photo: A view of Náchod Castle from behind with hot air balloons in the distance, fall 2023.