Thursday, April 29, 2004
Just playing along
* Grab the nearest book.
* Open the book to page 23.
* Find the fifth sentence.
* Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
The nearest book at hand was a book of Tarot in Czech, and it reads:
Duveruj moudrosti sveho srdce. My translation would be: Trust the wisdom of your heart.
* Grab the nearest book.
* Open the book to page 23.
* Find the fifth sentence.
* Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
The nearest book at hand was a book of Tarot in Czech, and it reads:
Duveruj moudrosti sveho srdce. My translation would be: Trust the wisdom of your heart.
This is a thoughtful article on the Czech entry into the EU, and pretty much sums up the skepticism that some, but not all, Czechs feel. The Austrian-Hungarian empire passed, the communist era passed. This too will pass.
Friday, April 23, 2004
So this is one of our new jobs:
There is already a palatable tension in the air these days as the country prepares to enter the EU, the magic day of entry being May 1st. Somehow I imagine that everything will suddenly look different, newer with less dog shit in the streets, noisier and people won't have time to drink a beer after work (not that people have much time now). But in our apartment every morning from 6:15 am to about 8:30 am the tension is like a cinderblock in your lap.
The radio turns itself on at 6:10 and it's my job to flip on the computer and get all the software running. MSN messenger, team speak, headphones and mic, word. If all goes well a screen will show the other members of the team that will be working that morning. By this time Alice will have woken up and put on her robe. She yawns once or twice and takes over for me. I head to the kitchen to make tea and toast or whatever we have.
At 6:35 a large document is downloaded off of the Prague monitor web site. The document contains anywhere between 150 and 300 articles on their way to being published in the major dailies. They haven't even hit the streets yet. Alice's job is to sort through this mountain of information and chose the article that are important and relevant to European Union policy. After sorting she begins to send out the chosen ones via MSN to the translating team (Two Czech, one American and one New Zealander, and maybe me next week), each working separately on their own computers in their own darkened rooms with their own snoring partners. They read the articles and write a short summary of what it's about and put the EU spin on it and send it to an editor (Theo or Katie) who fix the language and put it all together in a word document. This gets sent to bureaucratic headquarters in Brussels, for Lord-knows-who to read.
The document must be there by 8:00 am or all is lost! The past week we have been doing this and the best score so far is 8:20, which means that we have 5 more tries to get it right, or the deal is sunk. By the way this is work that we are doing with a friend, and it's his first big contract for his business, so failure is not an option. So the race to the EU has suddenly become a very real thing, a morning ritual, and only May 1st will decide if the ritual will become habitual.
There is already a palatable tension in the air these days as the country prepares to enter the EU, the magic day of entry being May 1st. Somehow I imagine that everything will suddenly look different, newer with less dog shit in the streets, noisier and people won't have time to drink a beer after work (not that people have much time now). But in our apartment every morning from 6:15 am to about 8:30 am the tension is like a cinderblock in your lap.
The radio turns itself on at 6:10 and it's my job to flip on the computer and get all the software running. MSN messenger, team speak, headphones and mic, word. If all goes well a screen will show the other members of the team that will be working that morning. By this time Alice will have woken up and put on her robe. She yawns once or twice and takes over for me. I head to the kitchen to make tea and toast or whatever we have.
At 6:35 a large document is downloaded off of the Prague monitor web site. The document contains anywhere between 150 and 300 articles on their way to being published in the major dailies. They haven't even hit the streets yet. Alice's job is to sort through this mountain of information and chose the article that are important and relevant to European Union policy. After sorting she begins to send out the chosen ones via MSN to the translating team (Two Czech, one American and one New Zealander, and maybe me next week), each working separately on their own computers in their own darkened rooms with their own snoring partners. They read the articles and write a short summary of what it's about and put the EU spin on it and send it to an editor (Theo or Katie) who fix the language and put it all together in a word document. This gets sent to bureaucratic headquarters in Brussels, for Lord-knows-who to read.
The document must be there by 8:00 am or all is lost! The past week we have been doing this and the best score so far is 8:20, which means that we have 5 more tries to get it right, or the deal is sunk. By the way this is work that we are doing with a friend, and it's his first big contract for his business, so failure is not an option. So the race to the EU has suddenly become a very real thing, a morning ritual, and only May 1st will decide if the ritual will become habitual.
Friday night. Spring storm is brewing, and it is pleasant to sit inside, figure this blog thing out and listen to it...
You never know what's going to hit you when you walk out the door in the morning, and these days this seems especially true.
On a personal level every phone call in recent days has meant a kind of upheaval, new job opportunities, lost chances and new toys (our friends have just offered to help buy a computer for me and Alice, one that can burn CDs, play movies and all the rest.) I experienced the strangely pleasant feeling of quitting my job of four years on Sunday, sitting in a park with Ivan and Jiri, telling them that I can no longer do the magazine. I'm burnt out on it, and have to get away from words for a while. They were beginning to weigh me down, accumulate on me like mold and dull my mind. It went well and I walked immediately into a new job, one I can't talk about at present... it's top secret .
A woman who works in our office, one I hadn't seen for some time, came in today and said that she has a serious health problem. She was flushed, and there was a look of fear there. It was too late to remove the tumor and the chemo starts next week. Sometimes it's too much, the ups and downs, and trying to find a center point from which you can be a help to people is nearly impossible.
On a personal level every phone call in recent days has meant a kind of upheaval, new job opportunities, lost chances and new toys (our friends have just offered to help buy a computer for me and Alice, one that can burn CDs, play movies and all the rest.) I experienced the strangely pleasant feeling of quitting my job of four years on Sunday, sitting in a park with Ivan and Jiri, telling them that I can no longer do the magazine. I'm burnt out on it, and have to get away from words for a while. They were beginning to weigh me down, accumulate on me like mold and dull my mind. It went well and I walked immediately into a new job, one I can't talk about at present... it's top secret .
A woman who works in our office, one I hadn't seen for some time, came in today and said that she has a serious health problem. She was flushed, and there was a look of fear there. It was too late to remove the tumor and the chemo starts next week. Sometimes it's too much, the ups and downs, and trying to find a center point from which you can be a help to people is nearly impossible.
Thursday, April 22, 2004
Hello all
So this is my latest bid to keep in touch with loved ones on the other side of the ocean. In recent years I have not been very good about writing, phoning, coming home and in general staying in contact with you. This is not because I don't like you. It seems to be a process of some kind. A time flick. Sometimes it seems like I'll go to bed on Monday and wake up in 2020, far more bald and stooped. My hope is that I will keep this blog updated and entertaining for you to come to any time and read about the various goings-on in my and Alice's life, Prague, the Czech Republic in general. I may also use the space to try and expand a bit as a writer, so be patient with me, and feel free to give me feedback.
So this is my latest bid to keep in touch with loved ones on the other side of the ocean. In recent years I have not been very good about writing, phoning, coming home and in general staying in contact with you. This is not because I don't like you. It seems to be a process of some kind. A time flick. Sometimes it seems like I'll go to bed on Monday and wake up in 2020, far more bald and stooped. My hope is that I will keep this blog updated and entertaining for you to come to any time and read about the various goings-on in my and Alice's life, Prague, the Czech Republic in general. I may also use the space to try and expand a bit as a writer, so be patient with me, and feel free to give me feedback.
