Space of Privacy

We have less than 14 weeks left in Prague, and I'm starting to feel anxious about all that I have yet to see. Not long ago I realized that though I've been to Malostranské náměstí (Little Quarter square) more times than I can count, I'd still not visited St. Nicholas, the high Baroque church which is the anchor of the Little Quarter. It's the dominant feature in the blog's front page picture these days, the copper dome and bell tower boasting a soft green patina.

I headed to Malá Strana two weeks ago intending to tour the church. But first I ducked into the bell tower. The entrance fee included access to a wraparound balcony, with yet another wonderful view of Prague, as well as an exhibition which revealed how the tower was used for observation purposes by the communist secret police.

Up the stairs ... because touring Europe is nothing if not a lot of stair climbing.

From the wraparound balcony ~

East view, down Bridge Street, heading right for Charles Bridge.

Malostranské náměstí (Little Quarter Square), where Nerudova street begins (or ends, depending on your perspective), site of lots of beautiful architecture and, of course, Starbucks.

Southern view down Karmelitská street.

Even got an up close and personal serenade of one of the top-of-the-hour trumpet ditties.

Back inside, I went up to the watch tower.

The office used by the secret police was at the very top of the tower, above the clock.

Prior to coming to Prague, I had only the most superficial understanding of communism and what life was like in eastern bloc countries between WWII and 1989. I heard stories of the many citizens who defected or died trying. Communism was vilified in the West, but I really couldn't have told you what the ideology behind it was and why we were against it.

Did my education let me down? Or am I really slow? Probably a little of both. I know this much -- visiting landmarks that played a role in this history and talking with friends who lived through it has done more for helping me get my head around what people experienced here, and in East Germany, Poland, the USSR, etc., than any history book or class.

I recently finished Slavenka Drakulić's memoir How We Survived Communism and Even Laughed. Drakulić is a journalist from Croatia, and her book is a collection of essays that chronicles the effect communism had on various aspects of everyday life, especially for women.

One essay, entitled "Our Little Stasi" explores the notion of privacy and personal space, something she and her countrymen didn't have. After the overthrow of the communist leadership in 1989-90, an initiative from the newly elected president led to a small but significant change in behavior at the post office.

In November 1990, we citizens of the new democratic republic of Croatia received postcards with an unusual explanation from the central management of the Croatian Post Office and Telecommunications . …(it said that) from now on, when waiting in a post office, one must stand behind a yellow line on the floor. This yellow line will indicate a so-called 'space of privacy,' so that every citizen from now on will be able to do his or her business alone at the window, without someone constantly peeking over their shoulder. (Drakulić)

Prior to that,  Drakulić wrote, no one could expect to conduct personal business without an audience. She described a typical scene at the pre-1989 post office, where people went not only to send and receive correspondence, but also to pay bills and rent.

Behind me people are sighing. I don't only hear it, I can feel it on my neck because a fat man behind me keeps snorting. Even though I don't glance at it, I can see his hand with a money order for 450 dinars for his rent. Although I can't imagine what could interest me less at this moment, I almost automatically make a quick calculation: it has to be at least a two-room apartment, in a new building, because rents are cheaper in the old ones. Then I stop, ashamed of myself. The only reason I don't feel like a spy is that he too can 'spy' on me: he can see that I'm paying a 350-dinar installment for some books, and that my telephone bill is enormous, 1,300 dinars. Perhaps right now he's wondering how I can afford such a huge bill, when my profession obviously has something to do with books, and we all very well know one can't live on any kind of intellectual work. In fact he really can learn a lot about my own and everyone else's lives just by waiting in a post office, bank, or any other institution that involves standing in line. (Drakulić)

The institution of a discrete zone led to an awakening in the public psyche. 

All of a sudden, private space became important, even fashionable in a country where for forty-five years, if not longer, nobody had even thought in these terms, and it was perfectly normal not only to have to wait in line pressed rightly together, but to peer at each other's documents, accounts, letters, and bills quite shamelessly. Considering that privacy was a bad word, such peering was even safe. Asking for the right to privacy meant you had something to hide. And hiding something meant it was forbidden. If it was forbidden, it must have been against the state. Finally, if it was against the state, you must have been an enemy. (Drakulić)

I climbed to the top of St. Nicholas' church bell tower to this watch post of Státní bezpečnost (communist secret police or State Security), called StB for short. There I found a modest little office with a desk and a television, walls papered with newspaper clippings from football matches in the 1980s. 

While anyone could have been an informer, it appears that only men were expected to staff this post.

From this vantage point StB could monitor activity in Malá Strana and down to Charles Bridge, as well as south on Karmelitská and north up toward the castle.

A beautiful, bright view with a dark history.

StB, the exhibit read, "created an atmosphere of fear and repression. From the start of the 1960s up until the last days in 1989, it primarily focused on surveillance of the population. Among other things this included wiretapping and monitoring designated people." The black and white pictures throughout this post are from the bell tower exhibit and represent a small example of surveillance photos taken by StB.

Regarding the 'space of privacy' postcards, Drakulić wrote, "It (made) you aware that you (had) a right to such a thing. It also (made) you ask yourself, how come you forgot that privacy is normal?"

It seems that in a society in which secret police are scampering around taking photos on the sly like these above, an expectation of privacy would quickly pack its bags.

I never did get to the church as I was so wrapped up in the bell tower view and exhibit. Another day ...