Observant readers of this blog may have noticed that my wife Sybille, has not had a mention in any of my recent posts. This is because on Maundy Thursday 2nd April, Sybille travelled by train from Prague to Görlitz, a town lying in the south-eastern corner of the former East Germany on the border with Poland. Then on Good Friday morning, she set out to walk from Görlitz, 470 km along Der Ökumenische Pilgerweg, to the small town of Vacha, which lies on the former Inner German Border.
Der Ökumenische Pilgerweg was established in 2002-3, almost solely by the efforts of one lady, Esther Zeiher. It follows the line of the ancient Via Regia passing through Leipzig, Erfurt and Eisenach. Simple pilgrim accommodation is available along the way at quite reasonable cost, provided by both the Roman Catholic and Protestant Churches.
Sybille’s original plan was to complete her pilgrimage and be back in Prague, before I left for the ICS Chaplains Conference in the Netherlands on Monday 27th April. But a slight problem with her knee just over two weeks into her journey, caused a delay in her anticipated schedule. Fortunately, ‘Aunty Karen’ agreed to have Šárek the cat whilst I was to be away, allowing Sybille to complete her pilgrimage, which she did by successfully, arriving in Vacha on Wednesday 29th April. She was then able to stay on in Vacha for another night, allowing me to pick her up on my return journey to Prague from the Netherlands, on Friday 1st May.
So after breakfast on Friday 1st May, I set off from the Mennorode Conference Centre, driving back into Germany and soon afterwards headed south towards Dortmund and then east towards Kassel, the city where Sybille was born. Then it was south again and around Bad Hersfeld, before leaving the autobahn for the final 20 km into Vacha. I had promised Sybille that I would reach her between 14.00 and 14.30, so I was pleased to drive into the town square of Vacha at 14.15, to be greeted by Sybille, seeking to attract my attention by waving my walking pole at me!
Vacha, pronounced by the locals ‘Facher‘ – native English-speakers beware 🙂 – lies within the former East Germany, adjacent to the Inner German Border with the former West Germany. These days, the Inner German Border is simply the boundary between the Bundesland of Thüringen and the Bundesland of Hessen. But there remains on the edge of the town, both evidence of recent past history, together with artwork celebrating the end, in November 1989, of the post-Second World War internal division of Germany.
Overlooking both the sub station and the dividing wall, was this watchtower, surrounded by scaffolding as it is undergoing restoration! I forgot to photograph it but fortunately, Sybille did!. But it does raise the question that I’ve written about previously on this blog, as to what structures and memorials from past unpleasant history do you preserve, and what do you demolish or destroy?
Deciding that I was too tired to drive all the way back to Prague that day, we headed eastwards and eventually turned off the autobahn to the town of Apolda where we stayed in a B and B overnight. In the centre of Apolda was a large red brick Protestant Church with an early reminder of the forthcoming five-hundredth anniversary of Martin Luther and the German Reformation to be marked and celebrated in two years time.
I spent Monday 27th April-Friday 1st May, attending the annual Intercontinental Church Society (ICS) Chaplains Conference, which this year took place at the Mennorode Conference Centre, Elspeet, in the Netherlands. As I mentioned in my first post of 2015, this has resulted in an addition to the number of countries I have visited, having never previously set foot in the Netherlands until two weeks ago today.
To get to the Conference Centre involved a drive from the Czech Republic, right across Germany, which eventually took ten hours – from 07.00 when I left Prague, until 17.00 when I finally got to Elspeet. This was somewhat longer than I had anticipated, almost entirely due to Baustellen/road works on the German Autobahn and associated Stau/traffic jams. Signs telling me whilst stuck in slow moving or stationary traffic that, ‘Wir bauen für Sie’, engendered the same frustration that I used to feel seeing signs for the ‘Cones hotline’, when stuck on British motorways in past years 🙁
My journey took me first through the former East Germany, passing around Dresden, Leipzig, Halle and Magdeburg. Heading westwards on Autobahn 2 towards Hannover, I crossed from the Bundesland of Sachsen Anhalt, into the Bundesland of Niedersachsen and in doing so, crossed into the former West Germany. Between 1st July 1945 and 30th June 1990, this was the location of Border Checkpoint Helmstedt-Marienborn, controlling traffic and goods passing between West Germany and West Berlin. It was also the busiest of the small number of crossing points on the former inner German border because it provided the shortest route across East Germany, (only 170 km), between West Germany and West Berlin.
These days, traffic passes at considerable speed where once vehicles could be held up for several hours. There is a sign that indicates that this is where the former inner German border used to be, together with a disused watchtower overlooking the site. But twenty-five years after German reunification, I could still notice visual differences as I passed from East to West.
I drove on around Hannover and Osnabruck, finally entering the Netherlands near the Dutch town of Hengelo. That evening, I told several of my fellow Chaplains that it was my first time in the country. ‘What were my first impressions?’ I was asked. ‘It’s rather flat’, was my reply. The other immediate observation I made is that Dutch petrol is more expensive than the German variety, something I made note of for my return journey at the end of the conference.
As in previous years, the conference struck a nice balance between prayer, worship and teaching with some free time each afternoon, to explore the immediate surrounding area. The highlight for me were three Bible expositions on the Jacob narrative from the Book of Genesis, led by my colleague, Rev’d Dr Paul Vrolijk, currently Chaplain in Aquitaine, France, but about to become Senior Chaplain in Brussels this coming summer. His talks were based on his doctoral thesis and gave great insight into the Hebrew literary structure of the narrative & the wider structure of Genesis. He also brought out some of the many plays on words in the Hebrew text, which are inevitably ‘lost in translation’.
As so often with conferences of this nature, some of the most valuable time was spent talking informally with colleagues over coffee or on occasions, something a little stronger 🙂 , such as the excellent but rather strong Belgian beer that was on tap at the Conference Centre bar. All of us work in somewhat isolated situations, I in a very isolated one, with rarely any opportunity to meet with each other except at this annual gathering.
Deciding on Thursday afternoon, that I did want to see a little more of the Netherlands than the inside of a very comfortable and well-equipped conference centre, I set off in the car, to visit the nearby historic Hanseatic city of Deventer. I hope the photographs that follow will give a flavour of what I saw during my all too-brief visit.
The Mountain Church dedicated to St Nicholas/Bergkerk Sint-Nicolaas. It is no doubt called the Mountain Church because it is situated at the top of a small hill, which is a mountain by Dutch standards 😉 Dating from around 1200, it is now used as a gallery and concert venue.
Originally Roman Catholic, it was taken over by the Calvinists in 1580 who completely eliminated the interior decoration. This is how the interior looks now.
I had originally planned to write a blog post on this topic back in November 2014, immediately following the ‘Struggle for Freedom and Democracy Day’ public holiday on Monday 17th November, which officially marked the twenty-fifth anniversary of the beginning of the Velvet Revolution on 17th November 1989. But rather than write an immediate reaction, I eventually decided that it was better to wait somewhat longer and give myself a little more time for both research and for reflection.
For although the events of 17th November 1989 were what initially triggered the Velvet Revolution, it took several weeks before on 29th December 1989, the previously Communist Party controlled rubber stamp Czechoslovak parliament, voted dissident playwright Václav Havel, to be the new President of Czechoslovakia with the promise of holding truly democratic parliamentary elections in the following year.
Therefore over the past two months, not only has the twenty-fifth anniversary of the beginning of the Velvet Revolution been commemorated, but also the twenty-fifth anniversary of Havel’s election as President, and in-between on 18th December, the third anniversary of the death of Václav Havel on 18th December 2011.
With all these anniversaries, there has been an outpouring of appreciation for the late Václav Havel, well-illustrated by the large poster displayed on the front of the National Museum overlooking the top end of Václavské námestí / Wenceslas Square, and by this placard that I photographed on Struggle for Freedom and Democracy Day. Much has been written in praise of his role in leading the dissident movement and bringing about a peaceful end to the Communist regime. Then as to how well as President, he represented the nation of Czechoslovakia 1989-1992; the Czech Republic 1993-2003.
The way Havel represented the nation, has been sharply contrasted with the behaviour of the current President, Miloš Zeman. Despite receiving just under 55% of the total vote in the presidential election held only two years ago, his level of support and popularity has since dropped considerably. In recent times, he has made statements questioning the economic sanctions being imposed on Russia for its military activity in Ukraine. He gave a live radio interview on Czech Radio in which he used foul language. Then in the days just before the Velvet Revolution anniversary, he tried to downplay the level of violence used by the riot police against the student demonstrators in 1989.
As a consequence, one of the major events on 17th November, was a protest march to Prague Castle with the demonstrators waving red cards, calling for President Zeman to be ‘sent off!’ It should be noted that this demonstration took place in Prague where Zeman did not gain a majority of the votes cast in the 2013 presidential election. But even many of those who voted for him are now expressing considerable disappointment with his words and actions and his complete unwillingness to apologise for them. A majority of the population now see him as an embarrassment for the Czech nation, in stark contrast to the late President Havel.
With these anniversaries, many people have been looking back and reflecting on how much has changed here in the Czech Republic, from the situation that existed twenty-five years ago. One very obvious change is that the demonstration against the current President took place without being attacked by riot police! Expressing an opinion that differs from those in authority is now possible.
I have often read that Czech people always talk quietly, can be unfriendly towards foreigners and are difficult to get to know. The experience of myself and Sybille over the past six-plus years is that this generalisation is far from the truth. Where it may apply to some extent, is amongst older Czech people who experienced living under the Communist regime. You spoke quietly because you didn’t know who was listening. You didn’t make friends easily because you were never sure who was an informer. And for most of that generation, the only language they have is Czech, together with the Russian they were forced to learn and which most have since done their utmost to forget 🙂
However the reality now is, that every Czech aged thirty or under, has no recollection or personal experience of living under a Communist regime. Therefore a group of young Czechs together are likely to talk somewhat loudly, especially if they are enjoying a few beers at the same time! They also easily make friends with each other and are often friendly towards foreigners. This is helped by most educated younger Czechs being able to speak English and many of them being very keen to practice their English language skills.
All of this was clearly brought home to me once again last week and is what has prompted me to finally compile this blog post. Last Monday, Sybille and I visited Bar- Restaurant U Topolu, a favourite of ours as it is with many of the students from the nearby technical university. With no table being free, we asked three young ladies if we could share the free end of their table. Upon hearing us speaking to each other in English, they spoke to us in English. Having discovered that we were not tourists but lived here, they were more than happy to converse with us.
All three were in their final year at the technical university, studying architecture. They were out celebrating together, having each completed an important assignment which they had handed in that day. Judging by the number of ‘blades of grass’ * they would eventually need to cut, they had been celebrating for some time 🙂
They spoke freely about themselves, where they were from and what their aspirations were. They were keen to know about us, where we were from and whether we liked living here. When we said that our only real complaint is our difficulties with the Czech language, Lenka, (the most talkative of the three), admitted that even she struggled sometimes with getting her Czech right! This rather confirmed the complaint I’ve heard from a few older Czech people, that many younger Czechs don’t always speak their own language correctly.
These three young ladies are part of the new post-Velvet Revolution generation making the most of the educational and other opportunities that they now have and also knowing how to enjoy themselves at the same time. Open and friendly towards each other and even with English-speaking foreigners living among them.
On the evening of Wednesday 10th December, Sybille and I attended the British Ambassador’s Christmas Party held at the Embassy in Mala Strana, one the nice little perks of being the Anglican Chaplain in Prague. Just as we were leaving the main reception room to go downstairs to collect our coats and head home, Sybille stopped to say ‘Hello’ and stroke Maya, one of the Ambassador’s two adopted Czech cats. Maya was occupying a vintage chair by the door, which had a rope stretched across between the two arms, to prevent humans sitting in it. But clearly such regulations do not apply to cats!
Standing nearby were two couples, with one of the couples speaking to each other in German. The German-speaking lady turned to watch Sybille speaking with the cat so I asked her whether she was German, (rather than Austrian or Swiss), and what was she doing in Prague? “My husband is the German Ambassador”, she said. Therefore as Sybille got up from speaking with Maya the cat, I said, “Sybille – meet your Ambassador!” Thus we met the newly arrived German Ambassador to the Czech Republic, Dr. Arndt Freiherr Freytag von Loringhoven, and his wife, Barbara.
This encounter, and the conversation that followed, touched on several issues I’ve written about previously in this blog. It also offered a most interesting insight as to how two Germans, and almost certainly how the government they represent, think about these issues.
Having discovered that Barbara was the wife of the German Ambassador, I duly explained who I was, not least because I was wearing my clerical shirt and collar. Most interestingly, she immediately said that, as a Roman Catholic, she was appalled by the treatment of Jan Hus at the Council of Konstanz . I was pleased that for someone who had only been in the Czech Republic for just under three months, she was very aware that next year would mark the 600th anniversary of the martyrdom of Jan Hus and that major events were planned to mark the anniversary.
Having collected our coats, the four of us walked down through the narrow streets, from the British Embassy, to Malostranské námestí. Here we said, “Auf wiedersehn”, as Sybille and I stepped aboard Tram 12 and the ambassadorial couple continued their walk to the German Embassy and residence, a few streets away.
Earlier this year, I wrote a post entitled ‘Is Prague safe?’. In recent months, that post has become a frequent landing page for new arrivals to my blog, no doubt because it appears on the first page of Google for any enquiry about safety in Prague. If anyone wants further evidence as to how safe Prague is, please note that here was the Ambassador and his wife of a major European country, walking without any associated security entourage, through the streets of Prague, relatively late at night.
At bottom of the short driveway from the gates of the British Embassy to Thunovská, there is this bust of Sir Winston Churchill. My apologies to my sister June and brother-in-law Garry, that this is the only photo I have of the bust, taken with June’s camera by Sybille, during June and Garry’s visit to Prague in August 2012. Upon seeing the bust, probably for the first time ever that evening, Barbara the Ambassador’s wife said to me, “Why would they, (meaning the Czech people), celebrate Churchill. Surely he was responsible at the Yalta Conference in 1945, which divided Europe between East and West”.
After taking a deep breath, I replied by saying, “Because he led the United Kingdom during World War Two and defeated Hitler and his Nazi regime”. I, together with most Czechs, can clearly distinguish between the Third Reich and the current Bundesrepublik Deutschland – a distinction I’m sure the current German Ambassador would also want to make. Please forgive the aside, but I do wish that the British tabloid press could also make that same distinction, whenever England are playing football against Germany 🙁
I could have made the point that the bust was actually erected by the British, though I suspect it needed Czech approval. But the Czechs do admire and respect Churchill. There is a statue of him in námestí Winstona Churchilla (the joys of Czech grammar 🙂 ), in the suburb of Žižkov, on the other side of the Vltava.
But Barbara’s question, does raise the ongoing issue of what achievements of a certain person do you recognise and celebrate, and what other less attractive aspects do you therefore ignore. I have previously written about how the statue of Marshall Ivan Stepanovich Konev of the Soviet Red Army, still remains standing in Námestí Interbrigády, a large square on one side of Jugoslávských partyzánu, the main thoroughfare leading from our nearest Metro station at Dejvická, to Podbaba where we live. It is because he led the troops that liberated Prague from Nazi occupation, finally entering the city early on 9th May 1945, just a few hours after the unconditional surrender of all Nazi troops across Europe, had come into force. One could however, also point out that he also led the Soviet troops who crushed the Hungarian uprising in 1956!
Not everybody agrees with these distinctions, especially with the current actions of the Putin led government of Russia, who most Czechs regard as little different to the communist led Soviet Union which was responsible for the crushing of the 1968 Prague Spring. On the morning of 17th November, ‘Struggle for Freedom and Democracy Day’, which this year marked the 25th anniversary of the beginning of the Velvet Revolution that toppled the Soviet supported communist regime in Czechoslovakia, someone sprayed the statue of Marshall Konev with pink paint 😉 Unfortunately, before I could get a photo, the local authority got the paint removed.
This then brings me to the final point about our most enjoyable encounter and conversation that night. The next day, Sybille and I duly researched a little more about the new German Ambassador. He comes from German nobility – the name being a giveaway 🙂 He has also done two stints in Moscow which both he and his wife told us in conversation. But most interestingly, Sybille discovered through reading the German Wikipedia article about him, that between 2007-2010, he was Vice President of the Bundesnachrichtendienst, the German Federal Intelligence Service.
Both of us feel that with all this experience, the appointment of Dr. Arndt Freiherr Freytag von Loringhoven as German Ambassador to the Czech Republic, reflects the concern of the current German government about the intentions of Putin led Russia, towards the former Warsaw pact states of Central and Eastern Europe. I outlined these concerns in my post entitled, ‘The Ukraine crisis as seen from the Czech Republic’. Sadly, nine months on, those concerns remain and have become ever stronger.
Yesterday, I officiated at the burial of ashes of two people, a husband and wife, into the family grave. Whilst this is something I would quite regularly do when Rector of a group of North Oxfordshire villages, this was the first time of doing so in just over six years of ministry here in the Czech Republic. I have also only conducted four funerals during that time, a reflection of the predominantly young age of the English-speaking expatriate population resident here.
However, although I conducted yesterday’s graveside service in English, it was very much a Czech occasion and was an illustration of several aspects of Czech life and culture. And because I want to protect the privacy of the family, I hope readers will forgive me for not referring to people or exact locations by name.
The existing family grave is located in the massive Olšanské Cemetery that lies in the Prague suburb of Žižkov. Whilst the cemetery is well-maintained by the local authority, like so much of Czech officialdom, it is not managed to encourage the practice of religious faith. Two things illustrated this.
The first was the attitude of the two cemetery staff who were present when we arrived at the grave. Whilst the grave had been opened and the appropriate hole dug, in true Czech bureaucratic style, the only thing that mattered to them was thoroughly checking the paperwork brought by the next of kin, the son of the deceased. Once they were convinced that the paperwork was in order, they just left us to it with a, ‘we’ll be back later to fill in’.
The second was the complete lack of provision for me. There was no chapel or vestry where I could robe & leave my belongings securely. Instead, aided by the eldest grandson of the deceased, who kindly held various things for me, I robed standing alongside a bench adjacent to a path running behind the family grave.
I have previously written about the Czech love of flowers which helps to keep innumerable flower shops and stalls in business. This love was very clearly in evidence with every family member arriving with a bunch of fresh flowers to lay on the grave. And I mean everybody, right down to the six great-grandchildren of the deceased.
However, it was what followed the graveside service which struck me as being so much part of Czech culture. The service was at 11.00 in the morning, so afterwards, everyone who attended was invited back to lunch. But lunch was not at the family flat in Mala Strana where I’d met the next of kin the previous day. Nor was it at a restaurant, not so far from the cemetery. No – we were all transported over thirty kilometres out of Prague into the Bohemian countryside, to a large three storey house – the family chalupa.
The house was built in the early 1930s, in a time that is now always referred to as ‘the First Republic’, when Czechoslovakia was an independent state between 1918-1938. The deceased couple were responsible for having it built.
The history of the house reflects the history of the nation. During the Second World War, when the country was occupied by the Nazis, there was a German military base nearby, so the house was commandeered to house a senior Nazi military officer. Then, following the communist coup of February 1948, the family were confined to the basement whilst the two floors above were occupied by others. Even after the Velvet Revolution of 1989 and the subsequent restitution of property laws, the family allowed a remaining ‘tenant’ to live in part of the house, until her death in the mid 1990s.
The son of the deceased gave a speech in which he recalled his childhood weekends and summer holidays, spent living in the basement and sleeping in a wooden ‘summer house’ in the garden. They were memorable times, despite the deprivation of the communist era.
And although he and his parents escaped to Switzerland in 1968, when he was in his late teens, and he, along with his wife and three of their four children, now live in England, this house in the Bohemian countryside is still the family home. Here, where his elderly uncle still lives, is where the soul of the family resides and was the only place where the lives of his late parents, who both lived into their nineties, could be properly celebrated.
The story of this family, could be told with some variations, by so many Czech families. The story also reflects the psyche of the wider Czech nation – that deep down Czech people believe that the soul of the nation is found in the forests, rivers and lakes of the Czech countryside. Even whilst we were eating our lunch yesterday, Má vlast, ‘My Country’ or ‘My Fatherland’ by Bedrich Smetana, was being played in the sitting room, music that encapsulates that very concept.
