The Course Of Understanding part 4

4. A PLACE TO LAY MY HEAD
The Czech embassy truly is graced with an excellent location. It sits on a nice and large city square (one of the few actually pleasant places in the city (I know my distain for this city is coming a little thick, but it’s really not just me! Really, ask Deborah about it, and this is one thing that she’ll actually agree with me on! Imagine that!)), with its back to the Danube (not blue! but pretty), and snuggled up against a huge and rather imposing building to its right. This other building might not be so imposing by itself, but it was not by itself. The street, and much of the square before it, was blocked off with cement barriers, topped with chain link fence and barbed wire to a height of about 7 feet. On all corners there were small guardhouses, and the entries on both sides were covered by a kind of double-gatehouse system that was straight out of the castle architect manual. Strategically scattered thickly around the fortified area were no less than 10 highly armed guards. The strange thing is, every one of them was outfitted differently. One was in all black, complete with black bandana and black assault rifle across his chest. Another wore a vest with (most noticeably) a combat knife the length of my forearm, a big pistol, a can of mace, and what looked very much like (but couldn’t possibly have been) a grenade. At least, he walked like it was a grenade ("worship me, or I’ll blow your scattered remains through all that pretty architecture you bloody tourists like so much!"). Another soldier was in all camo, complete with the black lines under his eyes. Really, each one of these guys looked like an exhibit at an action figure line-up! Either that, or the newest Bruce Willis movie was being filmed there.
So what could this building possibly be? The Slovakian Capital building? No, I passed by the capital later that night, and counted a grand total of two visible guards. The Slovakian National Bank? From what I’ve heard, the only thing that could be stolen is debt, so no. The answer came to me in the form of the old stars and stripes, flapping over this vault of a building. It was in fact the American embassy. The picture that foreigners have of America gets another mental brushstroke.
The most frightening thing about the guards was that they seemed bored. Not wanting to provide entertainment, I decided to not hang around. With the weather taking a toll on me (around this time I noticed that Murphy had also confiscated my Kleenex), my next mission was to locate a hostel. I managed to recall the location of one hostel, using a method similar to that which led me to the embassy (I really must learn "aspirin" in czech). I set out for the hostel. This gave me a solid acquaintance with every street I hadn’t walked down on my first tour. It also resulted in the rapid degeneration of my young relationship with my map. I guess these trans-cultural flings usually don’t last long, though it can still be quite emotional. In this one, there was also backlash.
According to the map the hostel was one and a quarter miles from the Embassy. However, following the map (and thereby taking the "scenic" route) meant it was about two hours walking. I got there around 5:00, planning to go to bed, rest/sleep until about 3 am, and then get in line for the embassy before anyone else could. After all, I was not going to let all this go to waste by not getting in line soon enough!
I was encouraged that the hostel was a five+ story building that took up most of the block. With it not being tourist season, I knew they’d have a bed for me somewhere. I also remembered that the internet had said this hostel charged 75 Kc a night (less than $3)! So, after reviewing the different approaches I could take to getting information (and forming plans A, B, AND C in my mind) I walked into the hostel and boldly attempted to engage in communication with the lady behind the desk. Though I instantly recognized the "middle-aged woman desk worker" attitude in the way she didn’t even look up when I walked up to her, I decided to use my usual opening. "Prominte, mlvite anglicky?" This, my most polished phrase, is czech for "excuse me, do you speak English?" Response: an uncomprehending and uncaring stare. I should mention here that the Czech Language and Slovak Language are sister-tongues, with word overlap between 50 and 75 percent, depending on who you ask. I’ve found that usually I can communicate with a Slovak as well as a Czech (though that’s not saying much). However, after confusing the heck out of five people on this trip, I figured out that my most polished czech phrase does not overlap with Slovak. So, plan B: "Do you speak English?" Response: one shake of the head and a return to the newspaper. So, plan C "Tak, potrebuju pokoj pro jeden noc. Mate?" (Deborah, I know! Don’t correct me, I know it’s painful!). ="so, I need a room for one night. Do you have one?" The strangeness of an English speaker trying to speak Czech in Slovakia must have been enough to make her willing to communicate: "Nemame." Basically, no. "Fakt, nic?!" =really? Nothing?! "Nic." She returned to her newspaper, completely indifferent to the fact that I was still standing there, trying to recover from the shock of watching Plan A, B, AND C crumble before my eyes in about 30 seconds.
This was a blow.
I walked outside, and to my delight, saw the sign for another hostel just across the street. I looked at my map, and only then realized that there were little arrows pointing out hostels. That would have made things easier. However, it also told me that these two hostels were on only ones within walking distance of the center. Since I would be returning to the embassy around 3 or 4 A.M., long before the public transportation started, I needed to be within walking distance.
So I approached hostel number 2. Walking inside, I saw the front desk enclosed in a glass room, and an elderly couple relaxing there. They definitely did not fit the disgruntled-desk-worker stereotype, and so I really had no idea what to expect.
I asked them if they spoke English (though I knew the answer, it’s still helpful to let them know where I’m coming from). They seemed quite friendly (maybe even excited to have someone to talk to), and I learned they didn’t speak a word of English, only Slovak and German. So I whipped out: "Tak, potrebuju pokoj pro jeden noc. Mate?" "Bohuzel, ne. Tady je studentky domu. Blah blah blah faculty blah blah. Rozumite?" ="Unfortunately, no. This is a student house. Blah blah blah university blah blah. Understand?" okaaaaaay. Well, they were very friendly, and when I looked a little let-down by their answer, they then started an unchecked string of words (usually speaking simultaneously), and I understood almost nothing except that they were now on a mission to find me a hostel. They asked if I had a mobile. Mine doesn’t work in Slovakia, so no. They started making phone calls from the office. Things were now completely out of my control and understanding, so I just stood there in confusion, and as I started to understand what was happening, I stood there in wonder. Helpful people! Friendly strangers! Oh beautiful impossibility and wonderful blessing! After some time I learned that the phone of the hostel they were calling wasn’t working, so they had called the Internet cafe that is across the street from the hostel. They didn’t know if the hostel had beds, but I could go and find out. They then started explaining how to get there. This is where the blessing started overflowing a bit, because they were quite particular about their directions, and the problem is they both had different plans. As I stood there in shocked silence (which they took as incomprehension, which only encouraged them to explain things again in a slightly different way) they simultaneously and rapidly explained their different directions, while drawing maps and addresses on multiple pieces of paper. This went on for no less than 20 minutes. The directions could be summarized to: "take tram 202 three stops north." After getting this reiterated countless times, and getting a handful of different versions of the same map, they dropped the last bit of information: "so you can ask there if they have any rooms, and they charge 630 Kc a night." I wasn’t sure whether to fall over or burst out laughing. Fortunately I managed to resist both of these responses, and after profusely thanking the couple, I made my escape before they could start explaining the directions again. So, let’s just say I would have been hesitant to pay 150 a night, and that this was far beyond impossible. Also, this third hostel was well out of walking distance, so it would be of no help.
I started to see plan X (or something like that, it’s hard to keep track of them at this point) begin to creep into my mind, and though I tried to beat it back down, there wasn’t much I could do. It started to sink in that there was not a bed for me in this town. I knew I would be spending the night outside.
Just in case, I checked my map to see if it pointed out the most comfortable park benches. Unfortunately, it didn’t (I knew I shouldn’t have bought the cheapest map!). So, regretting that I’d never taken that "Homeless 101" class offered at Butte, I set out to find a bench for myself. It was then a little after 5:30. It was shaping up to be a long night. So, which way is the center?