Showing posts with label Day-to-day living. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Day-to-day living. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Summer Holiday ~ USA

by Kate

This is the second half of What We Did on Our Summer Vacation. Part one can be found here.

Boston

The Seeleys have landed.
On July 14th we crossed our final border at Logan International Airport and arrived in the States. We spent the next two nights with Grandma and Grandpa Seeley at Karl's childhood home in Newton, Massachusetts, which allowed for a brief visit with Karl's parents, his sisters Mara and Lauren, and Lauren's family. Then we headed off to Lake Sunapee in New Hampshire for a family reunion with my mother's clan. My whole family (parents, my two brothers and their families) were in attendance. Which means within 48 hours of landing in the US, we had a chance to spend time with both sets of grandparents and almost all of the aunts, uncles, and cousins. (And by early August, we finally got to see Karl's brother, Joe, and his family.)

Lake Sunapee, New Hampshire

The weekend included lots of eating and family time punctuated with swimming and boating. Here are Ben and Garrett with their cousin Nora demonstrating their slipknot skills while tying my cousin to a dock chair.

A knotty situation for David
Karl and Tom, another cousin and David's brother, return from a paddle along the shoreline.


Finally, on the 19th, we headed for Oneonta. Home.

Monday, September 26, 2011

Ahoj!

by Kate

Right. Almost three months later.

We're back home and finally feeling settled into our life in upstate New York. It took awhile -- re-entry was no picnic. I can speak only for myself: I was weighed down with sadness that our year had come to an end. And I anticipated that reverse culture shock would be harder to navigate than our initial adjustment abroad. Under the best of circumstances, returning home after a long absence is usually bumpy. That it was coupled with the recent death of Marti, our friend and neighbor, made it even more difficult.

I have numerous posts I want to write to wrap up our Prague experience. I have to get us back home (to Prague) from Croatia with thoughts on our time in Slovenia and Salzburg. I have pictures and notes from various city sites -- such as Vyšehrad, the National Monument, the National Theatre, the National Museum (now closed for a five-year renovation!), Charles Bridge, the Loreta -- and day trip destinations (Konopiště, Terezín, Český ráj).

But before that, a brief report on What We Did on Our Summer Holiday (or at least since we last checked in).

Last Days in Prague

In the midst of posting, packing, and purging our things, we tried to breathe the city in, to imprint it for the long haul. We retraced familiar routes to favorite Prague destinations.

One last trip to the Castle ~

The Singing Fountain at Letohrádek královny Anny (Queen Anne's Summer Palace,
or the Belvedere) in the Royal Garden

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Odcházení

by Karl

This post takes its name from a 2007 play by Václav Havel, about a prime minister who is leaving after a fairly long term in office. Havel says he had the basic idea for the play long before he was directly involved in politics, but the autobiographical connection seems obvious, since Havel served as Czechoslovak president from 1990 to 1992, then as Czech president from 1993 to 2003. Last year the play was turned into a movie, with Havel himself premiering in the director's chair; a friend who saw it said that it's fine, as long as you go in understanding that Havel hasn't so much made a movie as filmed a play.
Proposal for movie poster, not implemented
The title means "Leaving," and it's about the difficulty of going away from something that you've gotten very used to.

This morning when I was up at the office handing in my key and picking up some boxes to ship things in, our landlady called to see about coming by with two prospective tenants to show them the apartment. I met them back here, and as they looked around and asked the landlady about various features, I noticed an odd thought in the back of my mind -- "Wait, this is our apartment. We live here. You mean you're going to rent it out to someone else?"

We've gotten very used to it here, and as much as we're looking forward to being back with old friends and the familiarity of home, it's hard to leave our Prague life.  In four days, we're outta here.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Pass me the ball!

For his birthday back in November, Garrett received a fun care package from his cousins Nora and Ella which included some hand-made cards, a few pieces of candy, and a packet of Mighty Beans, about 2.5-cm-long, ovaloid, collectible toys. Each "bean" contains a small metal ball that makes the capsule roll in all kinds of wacky, unpredictable directions.

Garrett is a sucker for little character-type toys: animals in a "toob," Littlest Pet Shops, Lego mini-figures, etc. So the Mighty Beanz were a mighty big hit, and even though G's birthday was five months ago, we still find the odd Bean under couch pillows and by floor boards.

Recently Garrett rediscovered one of his Beanz and was playing with it one night at bedtime. Actually, he was playing with the metal ball which had been removed from the Mighty Bean.

I was just about to tell him I didn't think it was a good idea to roll the ball on his face when suddenly,
"It was an accident! I swallowed it! I didn't mean to! It was an ACCIDENT!"

Monday, March 14, 2011

Now, where are my plimsolls?

Garrett is reading!

He likes it, too. Everyday he brings home a stage one book from school which he's to read to us. We don't have to ask him -- he's excited about this new skill. And proud of himself (as he should be!).


Riverside School is based on the British National Curriculum, and it's been interesting to note how it contrasts (from our limited parental experience with) the American system. There are obvious superficial differences. Garrett's class is "Year 1" rather than Kindergarten. Ben's in Year 3 -- next year he'll be in 3rd grade.

The depth of our exposure to the house system mostly came from Harry Potter, in which Hogwarts was divided in four houses (Harry, Ron and Hermione in Gryffindor, Draco Malfoy in Slytherin, etc.). But that's standard fare for British schools. It derives from a time when children were in boarding schools and they were grouped, kind of like teams, by the houses in which they lived.

Riverside's houses are named for famous Czechs: Komenský, Hus, and Karel. In each year (grade), roughly a third of the students throughout the primary school are assigned to each house. The houses compete for points through academics, sports, and social behavior. Ben and Garrett are together in Komenský, thank goodness. They'll either both win or both lose at the end of the year.

Curriculum-wise, the biggest difference we've seen is what is emphasized in Year 1. As I mentioned, Garrett brings home reading books each night. He also has weekly spelling tests. There seems to be a little more emphasis on reading and a little less emphasis on writing. But then my perspective may be skewed. Ben entered kindergarten reading chapter books, so there was never an issue of him learning to read in school. But each morning (in both kindergarten and 1st grade), Ben had to write in his journal using the teacher's prompt for the class. Correct spelling was secondary to getting the kids to just write in their books. Ben didn't have spelling tests until part way into 1st grade. Garrett, on the other hand, doesn't have a daily writing expectation.

None of this is a concern for us. It's just interesting to note.

What's been fun is the British English. I confess to being a bit of an Anglophile. Riverside uses the Oxford Reading Tree books, stories loaded with British-isms about "Mum" and "chips" and people "having a go."


Obviously it's not just the books Garrett brings home, but in much of the interaction. The boys have noticed that some things are spelled the same, but pronounced differently. Brits say "Magellan" with a hard "g" instead of a soft one (which makes it sound a lot like a Saturday morning cartoon gorilla of my youth). Some things are pronounced the same but spelled differently (American: ton, British: tonne).


That may not be quite the same pronunciation, but pretty close.

And then there are the words that are spelled the same, pronounced the same, but mean something different. From the world of potatoes, "crisps" are chips and "chips" are fries. "Biscuits" are cookies, and a "torch" is a flashlight. A "jumper" is a sweater.

Got a scratch? The school nurse will clean it and apply a "plaster" (Band-aid). A British "tick" is a good thing -- a check, denoting an accomplished task. An American "tick"? Not so much. (Yes, I know there are British ticks, too.)


Some differences in usage are subtle enough that it's hard to put your finger on them. This "bit," that "bit," lots of "quite."


"Mom, Igor wasn't in school again today because he's ill!"

I'm pretty sure that if we were in Oneonta, Igor would be "sick," not ill.

Mathematics is shortened to maths (rather than math). Garrett brings home his "spellings" book (rather than spelling).

Ben's class is swimming this term for PE (physical education –- which is always called “PE,” never “gym”), and so he's instructed to bring his "swimming costume" each Tuesday. (We get a chuckle out of that, musing about the different costumes we might send. Perhaps the astronaut outfit? After all, John Glenn used a swimming pool for zero gravity training.)


It's all been very sweet. But the day I hear one of the boys announce:
Crikey, what a brilliant day with my blokes! I'm knackered. Mum, be a love and fix me a cuppa.
I'll be booking an early flight home.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

What Is Karl Doing?

When I first started this blog, I was uncertain about how much to share about who we were and what we were doing here in Prague.

I got over that. But I neglected to go back and fill in the blanks about what brought us here in the first place.

It's likely that most of the folks who read this know us and know why we're in Prague: Karl, an economics professor at Hartwick College, worked out a position for his sabbatical year at a local university. But knowing that still doesn't tell you what Karl does with his days. As an aunt of Karl's wrote (and I'm paraphrasing here), "I have a pretty good idea what your days are like, Kate, and what the boys are doing, but Karl's life in Prague is a big, black hole."

I gently encouraged Karl to write up a post on what he's doing and how we got here, but other work always trumped this little blog. I finally sent him an email interview. And that's what follows.

So Rita, we're hoping this post starts to fill in some of that hole.

Thanks for taking the time for this, Karl. Tell me, where are you working?

Česká zěmědelská univerzita v Praze. The official name in English is Czech University of Life Sciences Prague. The Czech name is literally Czech Agricultural University in Prague, and they don't want to change that because it's something of a brand name within the country reflecting the university's background as an agricultural offshoot of Charles University.

They still do ag-related things. Next to a fountain in the middle of campus there's a small monument commemorating an international plowing competition held here in 2005, and you'll occasionally see ag equipment on display in one of the classroom buildings. The Technical Faculty (roughly equivalent to a College of Engineering at an American university) posts information about professors' involvement in agriculture here and abroad, with farm equipment and engineering. There's a Faculty of Agrobiology and Food, a Faculty of Natural Resources, a Forestry Faculty, an Institute for the Tropics and Subtropics, and a Faculty of Environmental Studies.


There are a few test fields around the edges of campus (picture below), as well as other properties in other parts of the country.




Most entertainingly, there's an experimental brewery under the auspices of the Technical Faculty. This serves the important pedagogical functions of training students in the skills of brewing, providing a lab for developing small-scale brewing equipment, experimenting with craft brewing techniques -- and offering a great place to entertain visitors to the university.

That said, by far the largest part of the university is the Faculty of Economics, where I teach.

How did you land this gig?

In October 2008 I presented at the First International Meeting on Biophysical Economics.  (The website looks more like a good intention than a living entity. The "News" page hasn't been updated since before the 2009 conference.)  It was a small affair as academic meetings go, about 30 of us in a lecture hall at the SUNY's College of Environmental Science and Forestry (ESF) on the Syracuse University campus. Among the attendees was a Czech couple who have lived in Syracuse since they emigrated to the States. They were friends with the conference organizer, Charlie Hall, and interested in biophysical economics.

Around May 2009 I wrote to Martin (the husband of the couple), saying that I had a sabbatical coming up and was interested in spending it in the Czech Republic. Did he know anyone in the field who might be interested in my experience? He suggested I contact his father-in-law, Milan Vlach, professor emeritus of mathematics at Charles University. I exchanged a few emails with Milan, who then referred me to Prof. Josef Seják from J.E. Purkyně University in Ústí nad Labem, a city north of Prague near the German border.

Seják is an economist dealing with agriculture, environmental economics, and valuation of ecosystem services. In 2010 he finished a book on Valuation of ecosystem functions and services in the Czech Republic (Warning: large PDF file, and in Czech to boot), written with a team of 17 other researchers from various fields (including Vašek). I wrote to him and sent him some recent work of mine, including an exploration of how economies create value.

After we exchanged a few emails, he wrote in October saying ČZU was interested in arranging a visiting lecturer position for my sabbatical year. Initially it looked as though I would be working at the Faculty of the Environment, then that my time would be divided between the Faculties of the Environment and Economics/Management. But ultimately, my contract was written for work with the Faculty of Economics and Management.


The offices of the Faculty of Economics and Management are housed in this building, but the college is big enough that classes meet all over campus. 

Do you teach in English or Czech?

English. The Faculty of Economics and Management is very proud of having a program with bachelor's and master's degrees taught entirely in English. Students who demonstrate sufficient ability in English may be accepted to degree programs in Agricultural Economics and Management or Information Technology. The vast majority of instruction in the Faculty as a whole is in Czech.

What are you doing?

I'm housed under the Department of International Relations within the Faculty of Economics and Management. I do a grab-bag of teaching. Once a week I lead an informal English class for the staff. In the fall, I filled in for three weeks teaching "English for Academic Purposes" while the regular instructor was away for family matters. I filled in for three weeks at the end of the semester in "English for Business Purposes" for another colleague who was diagnosed with cancer. I taught a four-week unit in "Principles of Ecology," introducing my ecological macroeconomic model. I did another four-week unit in "Natural Resources Management," looking at environmental economics within a framework of property rights.



For the spring, I'm starting off with four weeks of "English for Business Purposes," this time at the master's level rather than bachelor's, subbing again for the colleague being treated for cancer. I'll also be doing three weeks in "Agricultural Economics," and two weeks in "English for Academic Purposes" -- as with “English for Business Purposes,” this is also at the master's level. In addition, I'll be helping some students with the language in their theses.

In a way, the department is most interested in the staff English class. Through 1989, everyone learned Russian in school. The government knew they needed a few English speakers for dealing with the world, but people who knew English would also be able to read any writings from the US or UK that they managed to get their hands on. And the government didn't want that. If you showed too much interest in learning English, that made you somewhat suspect.

After 1990, everyone wanted to learn English -- or rather, most people quickly became aware that it would be advantageous to know English. Schools frantically looked about for ways of getting English teaching into their classrooms. That's partly what I was doing in Plzeň in 1991-92, working both at a high school and in a private language school with evening classes for adults. I was not alone. In addition to bringing in college grads from English-speaking countries, some schools just relabeled their Russian teachers as English teachers and sent them off to battle. You can find Czechs who tell amazing stories about the quality of that instruction.

Over time, the situation has improved considerably. In addition to native English speakers (probably better qualified than the average of the grab-bag that was brought in during the early 1990s), there are more and more Czechs who've had the chance to study English at the university level without political risk as well as many who've had the opportunity to spend time in English-speaking countries. Following the 1989 revolution, there were groups that set up schools taught partly or entirely in English -- for example, my Plzeň landlords sent their kids to a Lutheran-run English-language school which opened its doors in 1992 -- and those have increased. The result is that, for a program like the English-taught degrees at ČZU, with each passing year the incoming students have better and better English-language skills.

The teachers (of subjects other than English) are in a different situation. The younger ones are young enough that they got English in junior high school or even elementary school and they tend to be fairly comfortable with it. But even someone as young as 35 may not have had any English before finishing high school, and anyone 45 or older made it all the way through university in an environment where English was discouraged. Given the college's English-taught program and the academics' interest in being able to communicate with foreign colleagues in their fields, many members of the staff and faculty are motivated to attend a weekly class with a native speaker in which they can practice conversational English, review translation exercises, and even group-edit their scholarly abstracts.

As far as gigs outside of ČZU, I've been invited to speak at a seminar at the Faculty of Social Sciences at Charles University at the end of this month (which will be presented in Czech if I feel up to it at the time).

How is what you are doing different from what you thought you would be doing?

I had envisioned more collaborative work than has panned out thus far. In the Fall, Seják and I met weekly, exchanging ideas. He put me onto some interesting readings. I helped him with the English version of a paper extracted from a book he recently finished with a team of 15 researchers. And we discussed economic problems. Some normal end-of-semester busy-ness on both parts slowed things down. Lately I've been doing a lot of reading and some writing as well as cultivating new connections to develop other interesting conversations. The talk at Charles University is a result of one of these new connections.

The nature of the teaching is also different from what I expected. My understanding was that I would be doing the once-a-week English class for the staff, plus one course a semester: a version of my Hartwick course on "Resources & Growth" in the fall, and something to-be-determined in the spring. Instead, I'm doing these four-week drop-ins, where I do a coherent unit within some other course, or a couple of one-week topics in a course. For instance, next week I'm doing a lecture and seminar on biofuels for the third-year course on agricultural economics, and a couple of weeks later I'll be doing another lecture and seminar on genetically modified organisms, in the same course.

This difference from what I expected is actually welcome. It takes less brain space to organize a smaller unit than to run a whole course, and I've used the opportunity to pull together material and observations that had been piling up in random corners of my mind.

Another surprise has been the difference in expectations about when class schedules are made and students are registered. At Hartwick, the schedule for 2011-12 was made in the fall of 2010. By Christmas, I knew what I would be teaching all next year and what time each course would meet. Next month, students will start registering for Fall classes, and by May I'll have an initial roster for each of my Fall courses, which is likely to change only minimally before classes actually start. There's nothing unusual about that in the U.S. college system. I mention it only because that's not how it is here.

There are two groups of students in the English-taught degree programs at ČZU. Most of them are full-time students of ČZU who have chosen to study in English rather than in Czech. The remainder are what are called "Erasmus" students, who come from all over Europe to spend a semester or two at a university in a different country. The ČZU students follow a very prescriptive program, so if there are 35 third-year students, then you know that the agricultural economics class will have 35 ČZU students. The wild card is that you don't know how many Erasmus students will show up, and you don't know how many of those will choose to take agricultural economics; it could be five, it could be 20, so you don't even know how many seminar sections there will be until just before classes start. On top of that, some of the Erasmus students show up a week or two late, because semester schedules don't necessarily line up across various countries.

Related to the uncertainty about class enrollment is class scheduling. The week before classes start, a class schedule can be completely moved around, with lectures and seminars all happening at different times than you originally thought. Once the semester starts, you don't have to worry about any more of those changes, but then there's "block teaching."

The International Relations Office has connections with academics at universities elsewhere in Europe, and these outside lecturers come in for a week of intensive teaching in a particular subject. During a week that students have block teaching in a one course, they spend a lot of extra time in that class, so their other classes are canceled. So even if the class you're teaching doesn't have any block teaching, some holes will probably show up in your schedule due to the students having block teaching in something else. And the block teaching can change even after the semester starts. So flexibility is a useful attribute.

* * *

I'll corral Karl for another interview soon and see if he'll share some of his impressions of university life, the students here, perhaps his reflections on changes in the country, subtle or obvious, since his time here 18 years ago. If you have any other questions for Karl (or any of us!) feel free to leave them in the comments below.

Speaking of which, following the Billa post, our friend Andrée asked what the average Czech salary was, wondering what percentage of salary went to food. I asked Karl to suss that out and he emailed me a really detailed table, which it seems I've deleted. We'll chase that down again. I know this much: the salaries here are much lower than in the States. Public school teachers start out at the equivalent of about US$12,500, doctors are around US$30,000.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Vitamin WF

... and, no, the "T" is not missing ...

A couple of weeks ago we had lunch with Czech friends of ours who now live in Oneonta. Jirka and Lucka emigrated to the States in 1992, but they return to Prague each year at the holidays.

At one point, Jirka leaned in toward me and said, in a low voice, "I want your impressions, Kate. Let me hear some stories -- aren't the people rude? It's okay, you can tell me."

Jirka's not the only Czech we've met who's gone abroad and come back with this impression. Pavlina, another friend, lived in Canada for a year with her husband, Ewan, a Canadian. She finds Czechs cold, was amazed at North Americans' friendliness and openness, how people there said "thank you" to a bus driver when exiting a city bus.

I don't know that I find Czechs to be rude. Many whom I know personally certainly aren't. But then again, I wasn't expecting a lot of warmth from the man, or woman, on the street. I guess I was prepped well.

Karl lived in Plzeň from 1991-2, and prior to that he spent time in Russia as a student. His Russian "father," Sasha, once introduced him to friends at a sauna, saying, "On nash chelovt'ek." "He's our person." Karl's interpretation was that Sasha was saying "he's one of us," that is, like Russians, given to philosophizing with a dark outlook, not expecting things to be mostly sunshine, projecting a wry, what-are-you-going-to-do-about-it demeanor.
Karl tends to have an attitude that's simpatico with Czechs as well. He does not walk down the street with a big grin and a ready "Hi, howya doin'?" He's not particularly effusive (understatement? feel free to comment). I don't know how Czech this is, but he tends to let things roll off of his back. He does not get caught up in others' drama. (Which is maddening when I'm striving to swoop him up in mine.) If I were annoyed with him and giving him the cold shoulder, he would likely require a heads-up. Because it would be a long time before he would pick up on that himself.
Attn: Karl
From: Kate
Re: Mood-o-meter calibration
When I slam doors, make huffy sounds from my corner of the couch, and don't speak to you during the course of an evening, I am upset. Please apply hugs and chocolate.
I'll have to test that out some time. But I digress.

Whether it's due to Slavs' nature or political history or the weather, Prague is not a warm fuzzy town. Which is not a surprise. But just because I haven't expected a lot of warm fuzzies in Prague doesn't mean I haven't missed them. And five and a half months into our time here, in the middle of winter at latitude 50° 05'N, I'm starting to see that this city suffers from a warm fuzzy deficiency. And I'm starting to, too.


Friday, January 28, 2011

Billa dnes to nejlepší pro mě!

"Billa has the best for me today!"


Six blocks northwest-ish of our apartment is Billa, our grocery store of choice. Karl and I find ourselves there at least once or twice a week. Each. It's not just that our food planning is lax and inefficient. (Although that's true for sure.) Our refrigerator is smaller than the average American fridge. And we also have to haul everything home in backpacks and hand totes. And then there are the 103 stairs up to the apartment. Oy.


Back in the fall, I posted pictures and prices on Facebook but have been meaning to do it here, too. Here's what I brought home recently after a big shopping expedition (not an oh-shoot-we're-out-of-pasta-and-toilet-paper emergency run).

Currency exchange today: 17.9 czk (Czech Republic Korunas) = $1 US. (Which, btw, is a lot worse than it was a month ago. Nice timing on the trip, A.)

jablko (apples) 34.30 CZK or $1.92 US

pomeranč (oranges) 24.90 CZK or $1.40 US

hrušky (pears) 16.70czk or $0.94


okurka (cucumber) 16.90 CZK or $0.95 US

200g máslo (butter) 24.90 CZK = $1.40 US

300g sýr Eidam (Edam cheese) 44.90 CZK or $2.52 US

kefír (kefir -- drinkable yogurt) 14.90 CZK or $0.84 US

polotučné mléko (reduced fat milk, 1.5%) 4 @ 12.90 CZK/liter = 51.60 CZK or $2.90 US
The Billa housebrand is "Clever." We have lots of Clever products in our apartment -- matches, cheese, toilet paper, milk. So very Clever. 

Bagueta (baguettes) 3 x 12.90 CZK = 63.60 CZK or $2.17 US

slané pečivo (crackers, or literally "salted baked goods") 4 x 15.90 CZK = 63.60 or $3.57 US

omáčka (sauce) 44.90 CZK or $2.52 US

těstoviny (pasta) 25.90 CZK or $1.45 US

banánové plátky (banana chips) 8.90 CZK or $0.50 US

  párky (hot dogs) 19.90 CZK or $1.12 US

losos uzený (smoked salmon) 29.90 CZK or $1.68 US

 salám vysočina (vysočina-style salami) 14.90 CZK or $0.84 US

 džus (juice) 2 Hello @ 19.90 CZK/liter = 39.80 + 1 Clever @ 11.90 = 51.70 CZK or $2.90 US

0.3 liter Pepsi Light (Diet Pepsi!) 19.90 CZK or $1.12 US

But here's where we get our real steals ... pivo!

pivo (beer) 2 Krušovice @ 10.90 CZK = 21.80 US + 1 Kozel @ 12.90 = 34.70 CZK or $1.95 US
There is also a 3 CZK deposit on each of the beer bottles. 

na zuby (toothbrush, literally "for teeth") 12.90 CZK or $0.72 US
I neglected to get the javor sirup (maple syrup) to sit down for its portrait, but that was our splurgy item at 149.90 CZK or $8.41 US.  You can see it on the left-hand side of the picture below. Behind the apples.

Total bill = 764 czk or $42.84 US
That's all for that shopping spree. Let me know if you'd like a price check on anything specific!

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Reality Table Manners

To paraphrase Donald Rumsfeld, we parent the children we have, not the children we wish we had.

When Ben and Garrett packed for Prague, they brought along all the habits -- charming and maddening -- that they had honed in Oneonta. To be fair, we brought ours, too. And, incidentally, there are many days the boys also believe that you have to grow up with the parents you have, not the parents you wish you had.

An issue that has plagued my parenting days is the mostly unfulfilled desire to enjoy, rather than endure, family dinners. The big people are finally putting their feet down -- gently, respectfully -- and declaring enough is enough.

Karl and I will be going out to dinner at Restaurant Pravěk later this month. Perhaps one or both boys will join us, whomever has earned seven checks for good table manners. Each night at home between now and November 20th, the boys have the opportunity to earn one check. If neither reaches seven, we'll get a babysitter and go out by ourselves. Because if that's the case, we'll need a night out.

Our chart includes easy-to-decipher symbols providing guidelines for expected table behavior.

Don'ts

Put your knees up against the edge of the table. Your feet belong on the floor.


Yell, or speak in escalating tones (often the result of approaching dinner conversation as a competitive sport ... and which usually leads to yelling).


Jump up out of your seat and/or wave your arms in the air. (Like you just don't care.) (Even if you don't.)


Dos


Sit, with feet on the floor, facing your food.


Join the conversation, using modulated, non-ear-crushing tones.


Use appropriate, time-honored phrases of polite discourse.


Clear your place upon finishing your meal.


Here's the current standing.


We're going away for a long weekend on Friday, so the boys don't have a lot of opportunities for proving themselves worthy. But I suspect that we'll all get the meal out, although Garrett might squeak in his seventh check just before the clock runs out. While far from perfect (and we're not actually aiming for perfect because we can't abide that kind of pressure ourselves), Ben and Garrett have matured in this regard. And dinner should be fun, too. Restaurant Pravěk means restaurant of prehistoric times. It has a stone-age feel to it: huge mammoth-like tusks line archways, “saber-tooth tiger” skins hang on the walls, and there are cavemen doodles on the menus.

Wait a minute. Caveman theme? Perhaps we should consider the message we're sending.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Večerníček

"Dobrý večer!" Good evening!

Since 1965, Večerníček (literally Little Eveninger) has ushered in bedtime for children throughout the Czech Republic. Every night at 18:45, the starry-eyed tot spirals down from the night sky, bows deeply, and wishes his audience a good evening before meandering around on a wooden horse, in a little car, and finally perched on a unicycle. A five- or six-minute cartoon -- which often is at least 20 or 30 years old -- follows Večerníček's greeting.

Broadcast in a series over several nights, we've seen Pat a Mat (Pat and Matt),



Doktor Animo (not to be confused with Doctor Animo from Ben10 Alien Force),



and Příběhy včelích medvídků (Tales of the Bee Bears).



Currently we are enjoying a week of Kočiči (Kittens). (Couldn't find videos for Doktor Animo or the Kittens as they were obscured by videos of Ben10's Dr. Animo and real kittens.)



And then Little Eveninger returns to bid the children a good night.

Karl recalls watching Večerníček 18 years ago when he lived with the Jišas in Plzeň. That a family with young children would make Večerníček an evening ritual is not surprising, but Czechs of all ages take pleasure in the broadcast as this article marking Večerníček's 40th anniversary notes. In fact I learned (online, of course), that to generations of Czechs Večerníček represents a part of their cultural heritage and national identity.

Our kids have jumped right on board with the tradition. The threat of missing Večerníček repeatedly proves itself a valuable tool for wrapping up dinner and prepping for bed. The short stories (told through animation, claymation, or puppets) may not be visually sophisticated, but they are charming and easy enough to follow, even when Karl is unavailable to translate.

I'll say it: they provide a welcome alternative to Disney.

"Dobrou noc!" Good night!

[If you seek a more pedagogical approach to understanding the appeal of this sweet animated tradition, I refer you to“Večerníček and the Czech Mobile Market: A Cultural Approach to Killer Apps” by Joschko, Moscicki, and Quigley (2006).]