My trip to the Czech Republic was made possible because of a conference in Edinburgh: I booked a flight to Prague (4 May 2005), with a 12-hour layover there, flew to Edinburgh for my conference, and then back to Prague (9 May). I have arranged for a train trip to Trebon and a hotel there. It is a 'spa' town, accessible to our ancestral villages. I return to Prague 14 May for my trip back.
4 May 2005: End of Day One in
The cabbie was early yesterday morning for my flight out of
In seats 8E and 8F were two women who may have been gypsies. They wore scarves in their hair, lots of jewelry, wouldn’t stay in their seats, brought their own food (bread, fruit, veggies, jerky), in addition to eating the meals provided. A third one was several rows back and she kept irritating the flight attendant by standing in the aisle, talking to her friends. The flight attendant would roll her eyes and tell the lady, almost rudely, to go sit down. Beside me in 9C and 9D were a lady and her son. The son had a serious B.O. problem, and the lady did not seem to care if she kept her elbows to herself. They talked loudly into the night until my Jewish neighbor told them to ‘shush’. The whole picture of how people treat one another of a different culture was interesting: the flight attendant rolling her eyes at the gypsies; my 9F neighbor pushed forward the reclined seat of the lady in front, because he couldn’t get out of his seat (no ‘excuse me’, just SHOVE!). Similarly, my 9D neighbor did the same fairly forcefully to the lady in front of her, because she wanted to put her shoes back on.
The babies were up half the night. I am sure the parents felt worse than I did, but I was able to sleep.
Once we landed in
I took a cab to
Rain had been predicted for the day, but the weather was beautiful (good thing too—my bag was checked through to
I was trying to make my way from St. Vitus to the
I stopped for a meal of roast pork, dumplings and ‘cabbage’ (sauerkraut). The sauerkraut was sweeter than mom’s, and the caraway gave it a nice fillip. The dumplings were like a steamed risen bread, cut in half-inch thick slices from a roll about 3” in diameter. I just drank water (50 Kc = $2.07), but noticed that beer was cheaper (40 Kc = $1.66).
Signage from Old Town Square to the
I caught a cab back to the airport. I had been warned about being ripped off by cab drivers, and asked about the fare to the airport. The cab driver said it would be about 600 Kc ($24.88), but the meter read 812 Kc ($33.67) when we got to the airport. He took 800 Kc (no tip!). I knew I would be very early for my flight, but I was tired. Going back through passport control, the officer looked for my entry stamp (which I did not have because we were just waved through). He said, “You are here illegally!” but I explained what had happened that morning and he just shrugged and stamped it. Scary.
The Czech Air flight to
So here I am in
9 May 2005: Back in
I caught a cab-van at the airport that brought me to the train station for just 500 Kc ($20.73), with just a couple of stops to drop off other people. My train does not leave for a couple of hours, so I am in no hurry, but I don’t want to be rushed to make the correct connections.
10 May 2005: at breakfast in Trebon
Yesterday, boarding the train in
The train ticket to Trebon costs about $8 for the 3-hour trip. The train has compartments on one side with windows to the outside, to the corridor on the other side and to the outside beyond that, so the scenery is unobstructed. The corridor is not wide enough for my suitcase to roll. Compartments can seat 8 people elbow to elbow, but I am alone with a woman of indeterminate age—lined face, red hands, but spry. I wrestle my bag up the steps to the train and into the compartment before I realize that it is a smoking car, and it reeks! But no way am I moving; my bag is too heavy. There are shelves for luggage, but I cannot lift my bag. Luckily the train is not crowded. Towns whiz by every 5 minutes, and when the train stops, it is not for long. People get up and head for the doors in anticipation of their station, so I know I need to be ready. I track the route on my map.
I change trains in Vesily; the tram to which I change is waiting. We get down and cross the tracks to board the tram. This part of the trip is only about 15 minutes. There are no compartments, just open seating. Thankfully, someone helps me get my bag down (the conductor just watched with unfriendly eyes.)
The hotel is first-rate, with Old-World charm. Lots of dark wood, but modern conveniences. Hallway lights are motion-sensitive, flicking on as you move into each area and staying on only for a few seconds after you traverse the corridor. I am in room 208. On entering the room, the bathroom is immediately to the left, and two clothes closets are on the right. Another doorway separates this area from the sleeping area. It is not very large, but adequate, with two single beds pushed together for the equivalent of a queen-sized bed, night stands on each side, television on a cabinet that also holds a small refrigerator, and a table with the telephone and two chairs. The window overlooks the red-tiled rooftops. Ten channels on the television (a ‘Tom and Jerry’ cartoon in Czech is the first thing I tune into). But I hear some familiar words: počkej, tak—truly takes me back. CNN is the only
Breakfast is included in the daily room charge, and it is all one could hope for. A variety of cereals, cold cuts, cheese, tomatoes, cucumbers, something like a cross between poached eggs and eggs sunny-side up, little smokies, yogurt that is wonderfully rich tasting (must not be low-fat), and a variety of pastries.
Marie Zahn (my guide) is not available until tomorrow, so I explore Trebon, scoping out things I might buy. The square is paved with stones averaging about 5”x7”, intersected by smooth stone blocks. Women in high heels and bicycles tend to stay on the smooth paving blocks. The Trebon Archives are located on one side of the square near the hotel, but one has to make advance reservations to visit the Archives (in addition to being able to decipher the old records). There is a grocery store right next door to the hotel, so I don’t need to worry about eating in restaurants. (Photo of the alley between the hotel and the grocery store) Some fresh rolls, a hunk of sausage, some juice, got to try their rohlicky (no comparison, Mom, theirs was more like sawdust), a full-size tube of Aquafresh toothpaste, 2 yogurts, 2 packs of cheese and 2 bottles of pivo, all for less than 200 Kc ($8). Bohemian Regent – Tradićní České pivo, is pretty good, not at all heavy. Pivo in
I need a lock for my luggage—there is a hardware-type store on the square and the most expensive lock is 17 Kc ($0.70). I loaded up on amber and garnets, for example 18” ropes of garnets or amber for about $8 each. No tax was ever added: the price marked was the price paid. Toys are from
I have noticed, here and in
Television broadcasts are Czech or German, but with a sprinkling of English: “Make love, not war”, “football team”. Fresh Prince of Bel Aire in
11 May 2005: To the villages
Marie arrived promptly at 9 a.m., and we head northwest for Stráž nad Nežárkou to see the church of the Pivec ancestors. The church is locked, since many churches have been looted. We are in luck, as the church caretaker is in and is gracious about unlocking it. The
Next stop was the nearby church cemetery. In Czech cemeteries, plots are ‘rented’ for a period of time, and a plot served a whole family. If the fee was not paid, the plot could be rented to another family, . Coffins are all wooden, and a grave cannot be reused before 15 years has passed, to allow time for the coffin and remains to decompose. If another death occurs, the family would have to rent another plot, or cremate the most recent death, and cremation urns are placed on or near the family grave markers. I had no expectation of finding a Pivec plot, but it was interesting to look around. The oldest grave markers were ornate metal crosses. Early 20th century headstones were carved stones as seen in the older
The entrance to the cemetery bore the inscription: “What we are, you will become. What you are, we used to be.”
Our first find was the marker for Johann Klenz , the pastor who signed the birth and marriage certificates needed for emigration. Low to the ground, it consisted of a shield and a tubular cross. The inscription was in Latin, and showed that Fr. Klenz was born July 1805 and died January 1866. As we were leaving, Marie spotted the Pivec plot: an iron cross inscribed “Rodina Pivcova” (the family names use the feminine Czech suffix). This plot is located in the second row nearest the cemetery entrance on the left side, plot #20.
'City limits' signs with a red slash show that you are leaving town boundaries.
On to Mnisek, about 6 km to the south. We had some trouble finding #7, and stopped to ask a man who was working in the garden of #57, where it seemed from our cadastral maps that #7 ought to be. “Dobre den,” Marie greeted him with ‘good day’, and explained our mission. Josef Kodym was friendly and helpful . #57 was once numbered #7, and was familiarly known in Mnisek as the Pivec House, although he did not know when the property had been sold to his father. The house had originally consisted of just two rooms, and had included 2.5 hectares of land, enough to support three cows. He had been born in the front room, and he used the back room as his bedroom. The front room was heated by a wood-burning stove and the door to the back room was kept closed, reminiscent of Starik’s house. Notice the thickness of the walls around the windows. He said that the back room had been used as a tavern before his father bought the property. When he was growing up, he was known as Pepik (Josef) of Pivec House. He lives only part of the year in Mnisek, and works as a technician for television broadcasting in J. Hradec. He takes pride in his six bee hives, and was pleased when I told him of Starik’s bee hives, and my memories of hunks of honeycomb that Starik would give me. His son has two children, and I gave him my card and a copy of the family history, as well as some small gifts for his grandchildren. He said he would talk with others in the village to see if any had memories of the Pivec family in the village. [email protected], [email protected]. J. Kodym, Na’drazni’ 312, J. Hradec, 37701
#8 is directly behind #7, and is a much larger house that has been divided into two residences. Pepik said that it was known as the Big Pivec Farm House . #26 and #27 are side-by-side, with wooden doors to enter a courtyard, but no one was home to talk with.
He brought us to the house of an older neighbor lady, thinking that she might have a memory of the land transfer to his family. It was nearly noon, and her hands were floury from making dumplings. She did not remember the details of the Pivec sale, but said that a Pivec named Ladislaw had been buried just the previous week. Originally from Mnisek, he had lived in Stráž in the years preceding his death, and his siblings were Jan, Frantisek, Emilia and Maria.
Since it was lunchtime, Marie and I set out for a larger town to try to find a restaurant, no easy task in these small villages. We went to Chlum and followed a ‘fork and knife’ sign to a restaurant, but it was closed. A lady who was passing (“Dobre den!”) directed us to another restaurant, but they ‘were not cooking today’, but they did send us to another restaurant where we had a nice meal. I ordered turkey (which I would have sworn was beef) in a mushroom gravy, and potatoes. Marie had roast pork, sauerkraut and dumplings (as previously described). She said that tipping was optional: typically the price charged was just rounded up to the next hundred Kc.
On to Mirochov (pronounced Mirohov). I did not have any house numbers identified, so we just drove through.
In Vidri we found #17 by the number on the back gate. We drove around to the front and saw that someone was renovating the house, which was quite large, replacing the red roof tiles. There were stone pillars that Marie said were from an old fence, but there was no movement at the front of the house. We drove back to the back gate and talked with an old woman working near the woodpile. She had with her a ram, a ewe, and several chickens. She said she was 80 years old and her cousin’s nephew was renovating the property. She was friendly, but the ram was protective (he tried to eat my copy of the family history!) An archway led to a courtyard. Above the courtyard entrance was a hayloft, where a dog was barking. The lady explained that the dog was afraid to jump down, and she was arthritic and could not get him down. The nephew would have to get him down when he came. On the right were living quarters, with animal quarters on the left and the courtyard in between.
The last stop was Polikno. We found #14 almost immediately, and it was well-kept, with new stucco surfacing on the walls, but no one at home. We drove around and found an old man (“Dobre den!”), who was quite happy to talk about Polikno’s (relatively) recent history. He said that Polikno (population 200) was ceded to the Germans as part of the
He said that there was an old man who lived nearby who might have some information on the Bulants from our family, but that he was very hard of hearing. We went to the house he mentioned, but no one answered.
The Climate and Countryside
The weather is wonderful. There have been a few showers, and it is quite cold in the evenings (down in the 30’s), but on the whole the skies are blue and beautiful. The countryside is very much like the rolling hills around
Maypoles, topped with a fir tree, are seen in every village. Marie says that young men in each town are charged with protecting their Maypole from the young men of neighboring villages, as well as venturing into those neighboring towns to knock down the Maypoles of their rival villages.
Marie said that most villages have a ‘plague monument’. In the 1600’s, plague was raging, and people were afraid to gather in church for fear of contagion. Masses were held in the town square, and after the danger had passed, plague monuments were erected in thanksgiving.
Houses and churches bear a chalked inscription "K+M+B", referring to the three wise men, renewed in an annual ceremony.
Statues of saints dot the country roads. The trees are impossibly tall, lining the roadside. I saw some of these tall trees used in Trebon for building rehabilitation. Marie said that it is illegal to put up fences unless they are necessary to confine livestock. The national culture promoting hiking, mushroom- and raspberry-picking is so strong that fences are not allowed. Hiking maps are supplemented by colored bars painted on trees to mark the various trails. Interestingly, while people are allowed to hike over private lands and pick mushroom and berries, it is illegal to pick up wood from the forests unless an arrangement has been made with the forester. Otherwise, wood must be purchased. As trees are harvested, young trees are replanted. Marie said that western
Huge man-made lakes dot the countryside.
As we drove, I asked Marie about wedding traditions. Kidnapping the bride seems prominent. The groom must bribe one of the young men to find out where his bride has been taken. Marie related that her American-born husband was not prepared for this. They searched from tavern to tavern to find where she is partying with her kidnappers. To ransom her, the groom must pay the bar tab of the kidnappers
Another is the breaking of dishes: the bride and groom clean up the broken dishes to symbolize their working together throughout their married life.
12 May 2005: To Plavsko
Once again, Marie arrives promptly at 9 a.m. and we travel to Plavsko. On the way, Marie points out a statue of St. John Nepomucene, whom she described as the Czech patron saint. We pass statues of him at the major bridges in most villages. In Plavsko, # 21 now carries two numbers (#21 and #169), showing that it has been subdivided into two residences. #21 is on the left as we enter the courtyard. The second residence is on the right, and traditionally housed the retired family members. Pepa’s sister Radka will be moving into that section when it is renovated (Radka now lives in #173). In #21, Pepa, who is 29, lives with his parents, and he is responsible for the computer systems of the town administration, as well as the Web site for Plavsko. He gives me two laminated aerial photographs of the town. Pepa’s dad, Josef, is close to retirement, and manages utilities for the town. He has not decided what he will do after retirement. Townspeople have urged him to run for mayor (a part-time position), but he wants to enjoy his retirement. Pepa and his dad have both taken the day off from their jobs to meet with me. Pepa’s mom, Helena, has already retired. Plavsko is 626 years old, and lies on the road connecting
They show us into the living room, but ask if we would prefer to sit at the kitchen table, and of course, kitchen tables are the coziest. The table is covered with a white cloth embroidered in tiny tight stitches with a flower/vine pattern: more of
This is the information they had of their family line:
Frantisek was born in 1870 in #21. He had three mares and bred and raised horses for the region. He had four children and died in 1953. He had a sister, and a brother named Felix who immigrated to
1) Frantisek, who had 2 children: Frantisek, born 1944, living in Trebon, and Josef, born in 1949, also living in Trebon.
2) Aneska, who married Frantisek Vobĕrka and lives in Karlovi in
3) Josef, who married a woman named Bruzkova, and died in 1959. They had two children:
Josef, born 1944, and married Helena Lorencova (my hosts). Their three children are:
Ludmilla, born 1970, and married Josef Heš. They have two children: Ludmila, born 1993, and Anežka, born 1996
Radka, born 1972, and married Mitoš Budim. Their children are Veronika, born 1993, and Jonáš, born 1996
Josef (our Pepa), born 1976 is unmarried.
Maria, born 1947, who married Jerzi Fatka, also born 1947. They have a daughter Zuzana, born 1977.
4) Rudolf, who lived in Horni Cerekev in
We took a walking tour of the town. The Plavsko 'church' is tiny, clearly not meant to house the worshiping populace. #54 was a small house that was demolished in 1929, and the site is now just a small parking strip opposite the town administration building, but it sports a Maypole. A plaque on the outside of the administration building commemorates those who died in World War I, and includes a Tomas Pivec. The town maintains ‘chronicles’ of its history in volumes for the village, for the school, and for the fire department. Pepa had keys to the administration building (the motto over the door translated as “Conserve the possessions of all”) and the offices (there was nobody else around at all!), but the oldest volume of the chronicle had been lent out, so we could not look at it. The chronicles include births, deaths, town administration, school enrollment, etc., the very nitty-gritty of daily life. Pepa gave me a small shield that bore the recently adopted Plavsko ‘coat of arms’: three 5-petaled roses representing three sons of the Rozmberk family that ruled in the area covering Jindrichov Hradec, Trebon and Stráž nad Nežárkou.
House #45 now serves as the town kindergarten. Another school covers grades 1-3, with one teacher for all students. Further schooling is provided in Stráž nad Nežárkou, up to grade 9. Students walk or bicycle there each day. #44 was apparently demolished some time back. There is no evidence of that building.
Bicycles are again much in evidence. We saw a number of old ladies who were walking their bikes up inclines, no doubt to ride them down the slopes.
#154 belongs to a man named Bruner, who had lived at #21 some time ago, and began a dairy business, buying milk and making yogurt and cheese. With success, he purchased #154, and his dairy brand name, Romadur, is well known.
Someone named Pivec lives in #84, but Pepa’s parents were insistent that he was not related. Helena’s birthplace is the last house on one of the roads out of the town (photo 38). Her sister and sister’s husband now live there, and her sister’s husband makes bird feeders of weathered wood, much like the ones Dad has been making. The town’s soccer field is down the road from Helena’s sister’s house. Also down that road I saw a small wooden door set into a stone abutment (the level of the road was below the land on the other side of the abutment. Inside that door was a spring-fed water well, and there was a bucket on top of the abutment. The well was used by the villagers before the town had water service. Down the slope from the soccer field are blueberry and raspberry bushes for the villagers. I asked about mushroom-picking, and Helena related that children go mushroom-picking with their parents, and learn to identify edible champignons from the poisonous varieties. We passed Radka and her husband, who were planting flowers on one of the family plots of land. Helena pointed out the steeple of the church in Stráž nad Nežárkou, saying that it was tall enough so that it could be seen by the villagers as they made their way to church.
Back at their house, Josef offers me a beer (which I am told I cannot refuse; we must toast our meeting). Likewise a small finger of slivovice that has been distilled from his own plums (Helena complained that he did not leave enough plums for her to make plum dumplings). The slivovice seems milder than the bottle I brought to Dad several years ago, and thus was tastier and more drinkable. Josef downs his in one ‘schlook’ (which Marie tells me translates to a deep drag from a cigarette), but everyone else sips. Josef says he starts each day with just such a ‘schlook’, that it is healthful. I imagine that on cold mornings, it warms the body quickly. Marie had only coffee, because she said that there is ‘Zero tolerance’ for drivers: no blood-alcohol permitted whatsoever. She related that the coffee they served was a Turkish brew, in which grounds are stirred into the boiling water, and they must be allowed to settle before the coffee can be drunk. Helena asked about how I liked my coffee, and so I described brewing expresso, the French press, and drip method.
Helena is very interested in what types of forests we have, what flowers, weather, size of our Texas families. I described picking cotton and pulling corn during summers with Starik and Stara, and Josef nodded approvingly. Lots of food talk: that our dumplings bore no resemblance to the Czech version; kolaches are only made with fruit, cheese or poppyseed—no sausage kolaches. They bring out huge plates of ‘cold cuts’: rectangular slices of a rabbit-pork meat-pork fat mixture (the rabbit, like venison,is very lean and so is mixed with pork for moisture and flavor); smoked/salted pork slices; sweet/sour gherkins and slices of bread. The bread is tannish/grey, typical of what I have seen in restaurants and the grocery store, but with the good homemade taste. They confirmed that jaternice in Moravia was typically made with rice; in Bohemia made with barley. Blood sausage is made from the pig blood and barley.
I told Pepa that if he came to visit us, Sarah would take him to all of the Houston nightclubs. This caused a visible reaction, and Marie explained that ‘night club’ carries the connotation of ‘brothel’—my daughter would take him to Houston’s whorehouses? Thank God I had a native-speaker to explain what I meant.
14 May 2005: Back to Prague
I spent yesterday picking up the items I had scoped out on my first day, assured that I could choose the best purchases. My train leaves at 13:45. The hotel bill was more than the promised $45 per day, but still not bad. When I noticed that the price the hotel quoted, 1700 Kc per day ($70.50) was higher than the price Marie had quoted to me, I asked about it, and the hotel called Marie. They agreed to reduce the price 20%, so the total was 6900 Kc, or $286 for five nights, including breakfast—not bad. I have heard only one person speaking English as a native. Shopkeepers typically do not speak English, or have only a few words, but we get by with hand signals. Window curtains are typically a gauzy/crochet white cotton, re-embroidered with different designs.
I caught the train from Trebon, but underestimated the number of stops before Veseli. I moved toward the doors, so that I would be ready to get off, and just sat on my big luggage until we reached Veseli, and yeah, the conductor hefted the bag off for me! There was a very nice older gentleman who spoke no English, but concerned himself with ensuring that I boarded the correct train. I did understand when he asked if I had taken massages in Trebon (it is a “spa” town); I told him ‘no’, and named the towns I had visited, but he did not seem to know them. Boarding the train, a teen helped me get the bag aboard—yea!
There were a bunch of teens who got off the tram at Veseli and boarded the train for Prague, all with backpacks and sleeping rolls and bags. In my compartment there was a 23-year-old Prague university mechanical engineering student from Ceske Budejovice. He said that Czech universities are free: students are only responsible for room and board, and books if they were not available online or through the University library. He went home every week, or every month if schoolwork was heavy, mainly to be with his 18-year-old brother. He had not had much sleep, as he and his brother had partied until dawn, and friends in
After dragging my bag for an hour over the cobblestones, I gave up and engaged a taxik to the penzion. I was impressed: the street was not a big one, but the driver went swiftly and surely, except when trying to find the actual house number. During the cab ride it began raining heavily, so once again I was saved from getting drenched. Interesting experience at the penzion: the front door was locked, and I waited some time before the proprietors opened the door. It seemed to be run by two young women who spoke only a few words of English, but they seemed to be very surprised by my arrival. They did have my reservation; perhaps they expected me to arrive later. One lady showed me the breakfast room and asked when I would be down to eat. They also asked if I had a tram number that I wanted to catch. In the kitchen area was a common ‘mini-bar’. If you took anything, you were to note what you took on slips of paper on the service bar. The other lady readied the room, but it was on the third floor! (They helped me carry my bag up.)
The room overlooks a major thoroughfare and tram stop. I thought the noise would bother me, but I slept from 9 p.m. to midnight and again from 3:30 to 6:30 a.m. At breakfast, another surprise. There were whole eggs in their shells sitting in egg-cups—cool, I thought, soft-boiled eggs! I took one and found it to be raw, totally uncooked. I will have to ask Marie if raw eggs are part of the menu. I ate my yogurt, plus some cold cuts and cheese, and had my coffee. Bread was also served. I was able to communicate to one of the ladies that I needed a taxi to the airport at 10 a.m.
The trip back was uneventful. The Airbus was comfortable, and television screens tracked our route across
