Buried Letter Press March April 2014

Praha hlavní nádraží was rumbling. Standing on the platform, I couldn’t tell which way to go, and if it hadn’t been for everyone clamoring to get around me, I would have stopped dead in my tracks. I moved out of the crowd and stood by a wall to gather my bearings, but there was a problem.

I knew nothing of the Czech language. I didn’t know how to speak it or read it. I couldn’t tell where the exits were, where the bathrooms were, or where the ATM was. I had no clue how to get to my hostel, and I couldn’t hail a taxi without first having the money to pay for one. What was I thinking? How foolish, I thought, traveling to Prague without knowing how I was going to manage the language barrier, and dusk was falling fast.

I felt a slight tightening in my chest, and I knew that I was beginning to panic. Luckily, I was starving, and what I did recognize was a Burger King sign further down the terminal. It was like a vision of the Holy Grail leading me onward and bringing comfort.

Okay, I thought, I’ll grab something to eat and figure this out on a full stomach.

I couldn’t order but for making a number two with my fingers. Greasy burger, limp fries, flat Coke. It was one of the best meals I had ever had, and I immediately felt better about my situation. From the booths of Burger King, I ventured out in search of an answer to my dilemma.

Since I was still in the train station, I figured a good place to start looking would either be “Information” or a gift shop. I found the Information Center first, or I presumed I did because I recognized the word “ticket.” It was busy, and I waited in line for about 45 minutes before I was beckoned to an open window.

“Hi, uh, do you speak English?” I asked with a desperate smile.

I couldn’t understand the young lady’s response, but she smiled as politely as possible, and I knew that those dimples in her round face meant “No, I don’t speak English. I speak Czech because we are, actually, in the Czech Republic.” I felt my embarrassment and foolishness. Ashamed to think that I wouldn’t need to prepare for a stay in a foreign country, I thanked her and moved on, hoping to come across a souvenir shop. I didn’t know what else to do.

In the shop, I quickly looked around for a map and pulled