Via Prague

Dear Obama,
Like most people here on the Continent, Czechs are intrigued at the possiblity of an Obama presidency. Here in the former Eastern bloc, and especially here in the Czech Republic, where the president is chosen by members of Parliament and not by popular election, many Czechs look on with a mixture of wonder and envy.
Of course your visit to Europe this week has been well noted in the press. But one thing that I personally wonder about, since this tour is intended to bolster your foreign policy credentials, is why you didn't include Prague on your itinerary. After all, just 100 kilometers from the city the U.S. has plans to build a missile defense shield for Europe. The radar would be here and the missiles across the border in Poland, and the entire system is intended to protect the Continent from nuclear attacks from Iran and North Korea.
As you probably know, U.S. Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice last week was here and signed a treaty with her Czech counterpart. Meanwhile, the proposed radar has generated controversy here, as polls have shown a majority of Czechs oppose the project, and Russia has also voiced objections.
It would be interesting to hear what you and your Republican rival John McCain would have to say about it. Of course, plans for the radar have been in discussion for years, and reports here have suggested that no matter who wins in November it won't affect the outcome. President Bush, in a visit here last summer. praised Czechs for overcoming 40 years of Communist rule, and told them the shield is a part of the ongoing struggle to protect democracy.
What do you think? Many Czechs tell me they don't think the shield is necessary. Part of their reservations stem from fear that it will make their country a target, but also it smacks of old Cold War chess moves and brinksmanship especially with Putin's Russia on the march (Last week, energy supplies to the Czech Republic were temporarily interrupted, although Russian officials say it was merely an accident).
Anyway, I realize there is a lot on your plate, with Iraq, Afghanistan, the economy. But instead of speaking in front of the 'Gate in Germany, perhaps you might have come to this small corner of Europe, a small corner that is invested in democracy (there are small contingents in Afghanistan and Iraq), and could have a bigger role to play in the near future.
Just a thought.
James Tressler
Prague

Posted by James Tressler at 03:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (56)

If you're ever in Prague, you absolutely must attend a performance at the Estates Theater in Old Town. It was here in 1787 that Mozart's Don Giovanni had its world premiere, and was featured in the movie Amadeus. Mozart wrote the tragic opera for the city following the glorious success of his 'Marriage of Figaro' in the Golden City.
My friend Michelangelo Cavalcanti, a Brazillian who has trained at the Royal Academy of Music in London, invited me to attend a performance last night of the Don at the the theater. I picked up my ticket and sat down literally in the front row looking down on the orchestra pit, and as the lights went down and the famous ominous chords opened, I watched the conductor, realizing that this was exactly where Mozart himself stood during the premiere.
Michaelangelo was cast as the doomed Don Giovanni, and I must say it's easy to see why he has performed in opera houses throughout the world. His performance -- along with the rest of the mostly Czech cast -- was stunning, and the climax -- where the dead Commander comes to the Don's house to consign him to eternal flames, Mozart's spirit truly comes alive. I definitely owe Michelangelo a dinner and a few drinks for a priceless experience.
As I said, I sat in the pit near the orchestra, and thanks to Michelangelo, only had to pay about 100 crowns (about 7 bucks!). Usually of course it costs much more, and I can't imagine how much it cost for those who sat in the private boxes, but anyway ... After the performance ended I strolled down the street. It was a clear night and so I walked over to the Three Golden Lions, where Mozart and his librettist Lorenzo da Ponte stayed while they were writing the opera. It's just down the street from the opera house, and each night they (along with Cassanova, who advised them on Don Giovanni's character) swilled down beer and punch and Prague ham in the cafes and pubs.
Walking along, I reflected on my whining about visas and foreign police, and how long it has been since I did something simple like stroll through Old Town on a summer night. It's easy to forget sometimes, to get caught up in the day to day, the teaching, expat melancholy, why I came here in the first place. Long live Mozart!

Posted by James Tressler at 12:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (703)

Islam, my flatmate from Bangladesh, got a six-month visa this week. That's a step up from before, when the Foreign Police were only giving him one-month visas.
'Ah, something is better than nothing,' Islam said, beaming.
As for me, I've got to go back at the beginning of August. Meanwhile, for those of you who read of our adventures at the Foreign Police last time, read this report in today's Czech press. Seems the police finally started cracking down on some of the shady stuff that goes on there in the wee hours of the morning. Hope that means I'll have it easier next time, but I'm not holding my breath.

Group of foreigners draft own waiting list of stay applicants
By ČTK / Published 17 July 2008

Prague, July 16 (CTK) - The Czech foreigner police Wednesday detained 19 persons who allegedly regularly secured by force a better position for applicants for residence permits who queue outside the foreigner police seat in Prague.

The group of foreigners who did so for reward included one without documents and another one with a forged passport.

Foreigner police spokeswoman Katerina Rendlova said the police action started at 3:30 this morning.

The police checked several people who regularly address the waiting applicants in the afternoon and then offer them places in the queue for the following day according to their own waiting lists for a fee of 500 crowns.

They allegedly use force against the other applicants who did not pay them.

Now the detained people are being questioned. Most of them come from Russian-speaking countries, Reidlova said.

She said the action aimed to solve the situation at the foreigner police that has been unsatisfactory in the long term and to create equal and decent conditions for foreigners to settle their applications.

Critics, however, say the situation is not decent because the foreigners must queue long hours, starting early in the morning, and sometimes even more than one day outside the foreigner police seat since the procedure is very slow.

The foreigners also complain of language problems because most of the police do not know other language than Czech, and that it is not possible to handle the agenda electronically.

Posted by James Tressler at 03:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (53)

Ah, those who hope to see a United States of Europe (not me, particularly) are surely not enjoying watching while the poor Lisbon Treaty gets batted and kicked around like a two-dollar trick. The treaty, for the uninitiated, is the latest attempt by the EU member states to approve a Constitution. A few years ago, the Constitution failed to pass muster after the French and Danish voted it down. This Lisbon Treaty recently got the thumbs-down from the Irish and is coming up for a vote in the Czech Parliament very soon. Well, guess what? Read on. Prime Minister MIrek Topolanek says, gee, he can't see his party, ODS, supporting the treaty without getting support from the rival parties, CSSD, Greens and Communists' support of the US radar base. Ah, I love this game!

Czech PM's party may trade Lisbon treaty for US base
By ČTK / Published 10 July 2008
ČTKTo take effect, the treaty must be ratified by Czech parliament and signed by the president.E-mail

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Prague, July 9 (CTK) - Czech Prime Minister Mirek Topolánek (Civic Democrats, ODS) said Wednesday he cannot imagine ODS lawmakers supporting the Lisbon treaty unless parliament passes the Czech-US treaty on stationing a US radar base on Czech soil.

"It is hypothetical. In view of that the ODS group (of deputies) has 81 members and I think that I know opinions of most of them, it is very difficult for me to imagine that the deputies, or ODS senators, would vote for the Lisbon treaty if the ratification of the treaty with the United States failed," Toplánek said on Radio Česko.

U.S. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice and her Czech counterpart, Foreign Minister Karel Schwarzenberg, signed the main treaty on stationing the radar base on Czech soil in Prague on Tuesday.

Topolanek said "it is not entirely acceptable to connect it like this. But for the deputies who can make a free choice, it can be a certain aspect that will play a role in the decision-making."

To take effect, the treaty must be ratified by Czech parliament and signed by the president.

Support for it particularly in the lower house is, however, uncertain. It is rejected by the opposition and also by some government Green Party deputies.

The Lisbon treaty, which Topolanek signed for the Czech Republic, is opposed by some deputies from his party, the ODS. It was on their initiative that the Senate sent the treaty to the Constitutional Court to check whether it is in harmony with the Czech Constitution.

This story is from the Czech News Agency (ČTK).

Posted by James Tressler at 06:06 AM | Permalink | Comments (58)

Just more perspectives. The following, from Ceskenoviny.cz, summarizes how the Czech press reacted to the signing of the treaty between U.S. Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice and her Czech counterpart Karel Schwarzenberg on Tuesday:

When Czech Prime Minister Mirek Topolanek compares a base spreading on several hectares of forest land to the Marshall plan, it is his traditional momentary verbal aberration of the type of "Es kommt der Tag," but the instinct that stands behind the sentence is, fortunately, entirely precise: "we cannot rely only on the European community," Petr Kambersky writes in Hospodarske noviny today.

He writes that is why it is good that foreign policy is not done by men who sometimes do not think of scoring an immediate success with voters.

"Czechs usually see everything negative and when it comes to the crunch, they fill their pants," Topolanek said in January, Kambersky reminds.

He says it is hard to say what Topolanek himself would do "if it came to the crunch," but it is good that he has been pulling the strategic treaty to the final as yet.

The Czech government has failed to "sell" the radar to the people for one and a half years, and it has not actually even tried to, Milan Vodicka writes in Mlada fronta Dnes.

He writes that the Czechs heard more those who could be more heard and the result is that 70 percent of the public is against the radar.

This is "a crushing defeat even though public opinion polls do not decide about the base," Vodicka writes.

He says the government did well only with respect to Russia when it made it radically clear that to retreat from the treaty would amount to the acknowledgement that Moscow can again play for the Czech Republic.

Ties to the United States, a clear and irreversible involvement of the Czech Republic in the western sphere of influence, this is what the opposition blames Prime Minister Mirek Topolanek for, but it is precisely where the essence lies, Zbynek Petracek writes in Lidove noviny.

"If we still have the self-preservation instinct, we should not reject the anchor that America offers us for a second time," Petracek writes, alluding to the rejection of the Marshall Plan in 1947 which Topolanek recalled after his meeting with U.S. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice.

"I would like it best if the European Union guaranteed the Czech Republic's security, but it is an economic colossus standing on dwarfish power legs," Jiri Hanak writes in Pravo.

"It did not even know what to do about the war in Bosnia," he adds.

The Czech government is cold about the Lisbon treaty that must not speak about an EU president or foreign or defence minister, and because these posts are not supported in many other member countries either, there is no other choice but to support the U.S. radar base, Hanak writes.

The reason is that NATO without the United States is weak and the Czech Republic needs something firmer, Hanak writes.

The Czech opposition Social Democrats (CSSD) have produced an almost Kafka-like absurdity when they invited a Russian general to their seat, in which Lenin spoke in 1912, and in the year of the 40th anniversary of then Czechoslovakia the Soviet army and on the day when the government signs a treaty with the United States, a symbol of Czech alliance and security in NATO, Zbynek Petracek writes in Lidove noviny.

The genera was Yevgeni Buzhinski from the Defence Ministry who is in charge of negotiations on the radar base.

Author: ČT

Posted by James Tressler at 12:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (62)

After the demonstration last night I headed over to Pavels, the kinokavarna near my flat in the neighborhood of Vršovice. Everyone was watching a dubbed episode of 'The Simpsons.'
Pavel poured me a pint of Bernard.
'I was at the demonstration,' I said in Czech. I was still pumped.
'Really?' Pavel was wearing a USA baseball cap, and he nodded warily.
'So what do you think about the radar?' I asked.
He shrugged.
'I mean, yes,' he said.
'But you're from Přibram, right?' I asked, referring to the small town where Pavel lives. It's not far from where the actual radar base would be located.
'So you're actually for the radar?' I asked.
'Yes.'
This was surprising, of course. One of the big reasons most Czechs I've talked to are against the U.S. proposed missile defense radar here is because they're afraid it will make their small country a nuclear target.
Pavel was busy refreshing pints at the tables and I got the feeling he wasn't 'really in that big a mood to discuss it. But later some other guys came in and sat at the bar and they spoke about it together. U.S. Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice's visit to the city that day to sign the radar treaty made the issue immediate and fresh.
Being an American living in the city, I've always tiptoed around the issue. Back in 1980, Muhammad Ali, at President Carter's request, went to Africa on a delegation to explain the Carter Administration's decision to boycott the Olympics. Ali found himself having to deal with loads of criciticism. He ended up explaining to the crowds. 'Hey! I didn't come over here to take a whuppin' over America! If I'd known about this, I would have told Carter no.'
That pretty much sums up my attitude as a foreigner living in Prague.
Anyway, as I listened to the guys at the bar, I got the feeling they shared Pavel's sentiments, that the radar might actually be OK, could bring jobs to the small town, etc.
And I got to thinking about the two-thirds' opposition figure reported in the media. Who exactly comprise this two-thirds? Of course, at Pavel's they frequently show American films, and English-speaking people are usually quite welcome, so while I'm a firm believer in coffee shops and pubs as good places to sound out public opinion, it's also true that you can't just base your survey on one pub. I thought also about the AP reporter, Karel, who I met at the demonstration, and how he felt the majority of people at the demonstration were just old Communists and the rest of the anti-West, anti-US crowd.
It's always good to broaden your perspective.
In the morning I talked with the girls at Oriflame, the Swedish cosmetics firm I teach at three times a week.
'Did you see in the Czech news?' one of the girls asked. 'They had a picture of Condoleeza's face, and for a body they had the Terminator.'
We talked about the radar issue. Jiřina, who as a young student back in 1968 protested on Vaclavski Naměsti against the Soviet invasion, looked concerned and faraway when we talked about Tuesday's demonstration.
'I'm more worried about Russia,' she said. 'How will they react?'
It's true, Putin's Russia is not at all happy about the radar, seeing it as a threat near its backyard. The Bush Administration has gone to great lengths to assure the resurgent Bear not to worry. After all, the base is intended to protect Europe from Iran and North Korea, and the 10 missiles (which will be in Poland) are no match for Russia's arsenal. Also, the Bush Administration has even invited Russian experts to participate in the project.
The other girls, Jitka and Marketa listened. They agreed that the most vocal of the opposition here are the old Communists and extreme leftists, but it's clear they have some reservations too, even though they don't go into any great detail. They seem more resigned to the radar as inevitable, as evidenced by Rice's visit and signing of the treaty, even though it still must get a stamp from Parliament later this year.
'But what about the upcoming U.S. presidential election -- McCain and Obama?' I ask.
'I don't think it will make a difference with the radar,' they say.

Posted by James Tressler at 12:24 AM | Permalink | Comments (78)

I didn't get to see Condoleeza Rice during her visit to Prague today. But, in a scene reminiscent of President Bush's visit to the Golden City last summer, I could hear the helicopters covering her motorcade buzzing high over the city during my English lessons at the government office. Rice was here to sign a treaty with the country's Foreign Minister for a proposed missile defence radar not far from Prague. The Bush Administration says the system is necessary to protect Europe from potential nuclear attacks from Iran and North Korea. The actual missiles would be located in Poland just across the border.
Meanwhile, in the evening after my last class, I went to Vaclavski Namesti, the city's main square, where some two thousand Czechs gathered to protest the radar. Surveys have shown about two-thirds of Czechs oppose the radar. They waved flags and signs that said, in no particular order:
'Ne Zakladnam!' (!) No Base!
'Ne Radar!'
'Není rozhodnuto!' (No Decision!)
'Dekujeme, Necheceme' (Thanks, but we don't want it!)
'Nejsme ovčane' (We are not sheep!)
'Nejsme terč!' (We are not a target!)
'Condoleeza is not Welcome!'
I drifted through the crowd. Many people wore shirts specially made bearing an anti-missile logo that's become quite common here, as bumper stickers and such. Over the past year or so, I've become pretty familiar with the issues, as have most people who live here. It reminds me a bit of Humboldt County, during all the old timber protests, and of course the protests over Iraq. Most Czechs say they're afraid the radar will make the country a target for future attacks. Also, the radar triggers historical memories of occupations by foreign armies.
In the crowd as I survey it, I see one man wearing on the back of his shirt three images:
1939: A picture of Hitler, referring to the Nazi occupation.
1968: A picture of the Russian hammer and sickle, referring to the 1968 Warsaw Pact (Russian) invasion
2008: A picture of George W. Bush, you guess
'It's exactly like an occupation,' says one young woman, Dana, who is with a group called Movement Humanity.
'But for me,' she goes on, 'I worked in Africa and I saw the poverty there. I don't understand why we have these weapons. With the money we spend on these weapons we could use to solve bigger problems in poor countries.'
'So why would the Czechs sign a treaty if 70 percent of the people are against it?' I ask.
She shrugs.
'Well, that is how it is here in Czech,' she says.
'Do you think there should be a referendum?'
'Yes, of course.'
I take one of her fliers and move on.
Up near the stage, where they're getting ready to start, I bump into a journalist. His notepad gives him away. I introduce myself. He hands me a card, Karel Janíček, AP Prague. We talk a minute.
'Do you really think this can be compared to the 68 invasion?' I ask.
'No, not at all,' he says. 'You have to understand, a lot of these people here -- a lot of them are just old Communists,' There are a lot of old people there, true, but also lots of young people.
'Old Communists, and also the extreme left of the country.'
Karel wanders off to get more quotes.
One man, Jiři Novotny, carries a sign that says 'No to Radar.' I ask him if he speaks English and he says, a little. But just before I start to interview him another journalist, a big fellow in a blue suit, a television cameraman in tow, strides heavily in. 'Do you speak English?' he asks Novotny.
'Yes,' Novotny repeats.
'So you don't like the U.S. radar -- why?' the journalist asks. I detect a foreign accent, but can't determine where he's from.
'I think the radar is totally nonsense,' Novotny says.
'-- Yes,' the journalist interrupts, 'But isn't it nonsense to come here and protest when it's already been approved?'
The journalist is referring to the U.S. Secretary of State having signed the treaty today. Technically, however, it still must be approved by the Czech Parliament, which could take several months some speculate.
Novotny repeats much of this.
'I think the process is not finished,' Novotny says. 'And in November in the U.S. there will be a new president, so perhaps it could be different.'
The hefty TV journalist, satisfied, whisks off into the crowd. I stay with Novotny.
'But what about Vaclav Havel?' I ask. Havel was the hero of the 1989 revolution that overcame 40 years of Communist rule, and the first Czech Republic president. Havel has publicly supported the radar.
'Yes,' Novotny says thoughtfully. 'But you know, Havel has very strong feelings for the United States, he was a dissident for many years ... But in the past 10 years you must admit the political situation in your country has rapidly changed. The U.S. has many problems, politically and economically. This radar, I think it's all about business. It's not about politics.'
'You mentioned the U.S. election,' I say. 'So do you like Obama or McCain?'
'I don't have enough information,' Novotny said. 'But at this point, I think I like Obama better.'
Up on the podium some people are giving speeches, roaring up the crowd, but I can't quite understand, my Czech still isn't good enough. So I wander over to a young woman wearing an anti-radar shirt. She introduces herself as Simona Kašparova.
'Student?' I ask.
'No, I work as a dispatcher for the international road transport system.' It's hard to hear her over the crowd. The speakers are leading them on to various Cheers and Boos. At one point I hear Condoleeza Rice's name mentioned, followed by boos and whistles.
'So you're against the radar,' I say.
She nods.
'I don't see why it is necessary,' she says. 'I am afraid we will be like target. And also I don't want to destroy the nature.'
I stayed about an hour. By then it was after seven. The traffic had actually stopped. Police were there, but just monitoring. There was no violence or anything out of hand. Earlier I had asked around to see if the U.S. Secretary of State was expected to drop by. No, most said with a laugh. Actually Rice spent the evening at the U.S. Ambassador's place up in Prague 6. She's expected to fly to Poland tomorrow to discuss that country's end of the deal. Meanwhile, as I said, Rice's signing of the treaty today doesn't exactly close the deal. Parliament still must approve it, a vote which could come in a few weeks, or a few months. It's still not clear. Right now, the country's Prime Minister Mirek Topolanek and his party the Civic Democrats, support the radar. But it faces heavy opposition from the Social Democrats, Communists and Greens. As usual here in Czech Republic, uvidime. We will see.

Posted by James Tressler at 09:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (23)

Definitely an under-reported story, the proposed U.S. missile defense system for Europe. Rice will be in Prague Tuesday to sign a treaty, despite opposition from Czechs and Russia. Read on ...

U.S. and Czechs to sign radar deal despite opposition
Sun Jul 6, 2008 10:15am EDT

By Jan Lopatka

PRAGUE (Reuters) - The Czech Republic and the United States will sign a treaty on Tuesday to build a missile defense radar on Czech soil despite opposition at home and in Russia.

Washington wants to build the radar southwest of Prague and put 10 interceptor rockets in neighboring Poland as a part of a defense shield it says will protect the United States and European allies from threats from "rogue states" such as Iran.

U.S. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice will sign the deal in Prague, but the plan faces some hurdles.

Talks with Poland have so far failed over Warsaw's demands for U.S. finance to help modernize its army, and the Czech treaty will face opposition in parliament.

The Czech government said the shield would offer further protection on the top of the country's NATO and EU membership.

"Missile technology is spreading around the world," Czech Foreign Minister Karel Schwarzenberg told Reuters. "The threat is not totally acute, but one has to prepare in time."

Russia sees the shield as a threat, and has said it will aim its nuclear missiles at central Europe if the shield is deployed. The United States says the 10 rockets are no match for Russia's nuclear arsenal.

Analysts say that bases in the former Soviet bloc would raise U.S. security interest in the region at a time when Russia grows more assertive about its role on the global scene.

"While Washington's concerns about Iran are real, it's also true that in setting up these missile defense components, the United States will have a direct stake in the security of central and eastern Europe," said Alexander Kliment, an analyst at Eurasia Group, a U.S. political risk consultancy.

Disputes over the radar have alienated many Czechs, wary of any foreign military presence after the Soviet invasion in 1968 and the following two decades of occupation.

An opinion poll last month showed 68 percent of Czechs were against the shield, while 24 percent supported it.

Anti-radar activists say the radar will make the Czech Republic a target and undermine its security.

The leftist opposition in parliament has channeled the public discontent, and ratification is uncertain.

The three-party cabinet has just 100 seats in the 200-seat lower house and several backbenchers have said they would vote against. The government must win over several independents.

"I am convinced that responsibility will prevail and a majority will stand behind (the radar)," Deputy Prime Minister Alexander Vondra told Czech Television.

The Green Party, a junior government partner, says ratification should be delayed until a new U.S. administration takes over from President George W. Bush early next year.

Unlike the Czechs, Poland has demanded billions of dollars for the modernization of their army, mainly air defenses. Prime Minister Donald Tusk said on Friday U.S. proposals were insufficient but Poland was ready to negotiate further.

Posted by James Tressler at 06:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (84)

It's a pity that the whole Foreign Police mess, chronicled here the past week, has already been reported to death by the Czech media. My paper, The Prague Post, has also reported on the issue extensively. That's why mine and Islam's experiences the past week aren't really that interesting to anybody. You talk to people about it, they sort of shake their heads unbelievingly, say, 'It's terrible, terrible,' and drop the subject. A few Czechs have apologized, saying, 'James, I'm really sorry, it shouldn't be so difficult.' But behind their sympathy, or perhaps in my own reflections, there's another sentiment: If it's so bad, you could always go back to America. After all, if my Czech friends went to America to work, their struggles to get legal would undoubtedly be just as difficult, probably a lot more so, and a lot more expensive.
I estimate the past few weeks I've spent between 5,000 and 10,000 crowns ($300 to $600), on the process, paperwork, stamps, etc, but it doesn't factor in the days I've had to take off from work. I imagine it's cost Islam about the same. And at least on my end, I think I've cleared all the hurdles; in 30 days my visa should be ready. Islam, on the other hand, has to get more documents translated into Czech, documents which have to be sent from Bangladesh, so he's got a few more steps.
Anyway, for readers and colleagues back at the T-S: I've been reading about the problems Sun Valley had with its migrant workers. I would suggest a couple of follow-up stories. First of all, here in Czech Republic most employers provide assistance to its foreign workers with the visa process. My school, for example, helped set up appointments (in Czech) and provided translation for documents, and were able to provide counsel on the process in general. Do employers there on the North Coast assist immigrants with the legalization process, or are the workers left on their own to navigate the system? How much does it cost to 'work legally' in California?
Finally, is their an office in Humboldt County (doubtful, probably the Bay Area or Sacramento) that handles the paperwork? It would be worthwhile getting to know a couple of Mexican immigrants and follow them through the process. As your old faithful reporter here can attest, spending the night at the Foreign Police, huddled with scores of other tired, anxious immigrants, it can be an eye-opening experience. Your whole future, your hopes and aspirations (and sometimes for your family too) all can rest on getting a piece of paper with a stamp on it. That sounds perhaps too sympathetic (many in fact choose to work illegally and I don't blame them sometimes), but that's my two cents and you can take it for what it's worth.

Posted by James Tressler at 06:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (43)

That evening the sun disappeared and great black clouds descended on the city. The heat sucked away and evaporated, and the rains came, loud and insistent, followed by thunder. People went hurrying indoors, their shorts and t-shirts soaked through. I couldn't help think -- at least the summer storm held off until we were through with the Foreign Police. Can you imagine sitting outside all night under that downpour?
I went to Pavels. Islam was already there and mopping the floor. Pavel was behind the bar. There was no gas for the keg, so we settled for střík, half white wine and half sparkling water, a cool, light summer drink especially popular with Czech women because it saves the waistline some mileage. Tomas, a Czech who's also an English teacher and studying teaching methodologies at university, invited me over for a smoke.
'So how was it?' he asked.
'We were there from midnight,' I said.
'Midnight? Jesus! So did you get the visa?'
'30 days. I have to go back.'
'Oh no!' he laughed sympathetically.
'I don't understand it,' I whined. 'A city with a million and a half people, probably at least 50,000 immigrants, and they have just one office to process the paperwork.'
'It's terrible,' Tomas said.
'But I'm sure it's the same everywhere.' I told Tomas about Lucka, a Czech girl who spent a year in the US, and how she waited all night at the embassy in Washington to get her visa. We also talked about Mexican immigrants in California, and the difficulties they have getting legal.
'But they do the jobs nobody else wants,' I went on. 'And immigrants help drive growth. They're the ambitious ones, the ones who want something better.'
This is in reference to a conversation Tomas and I have frequently had.
'Here in Czech Republic,' he often says. 'Everyone who grew up under Communism is used to the state taking care of them, and everyone being the same. They cannot imagine taking care of themselves, or imagining something better.'
'Look at what Kennedy said,' I went on, 'Democracy isn't perfect and freedom presents many challenges, but at least in America we don't have to build a wall to keep our people in. Of course it's ironic now, the Bush Administration wants to build a wall between the US and Mexico. They want to build a wall to keep people out!'
'Yes, but don't you think, James,' Tomas said, nodding. 'That for some people such freedom is too difficult to handle. They cannot survive. So in this respect, it's good to have some some controls.'
'But what about when you went to England?' I asked. 'What if the English had said, 'Sorry, Tomas, you cannot come.'
We conceded points, and I realize that it's not the same, comparing discomfort over getting a visa to the Berlin Wall.
Outside it was still storming, the rain falling in sheets. Pavel had on some French soft-core porn for some reason -- and from the Eighties on top of that -- and everyone was getting a laugh out of it. People came in flushed and streaming with rain, and exchanged 'Ahojs' and either had the wine or waited for the beer. Warmed by the střík, and the cozy feeling of being inside sheltered from the storm, we continued the discussion.
'Basically there are two philosophies,' I mused, feeling the wine. 'One is like Robert Frost said,' Good fences make good neighbors,' and the other ... I guess, that for those who strive for something better the path should be open.' This was perhaps a winefully stupid observation. Frost was talking about privacy, I suspect, and of course what kind of life would it be without obstacles?
Fortunately, Tomas was more the mood to smoke and reflect. After all, the conversation just made the wine taste better (stealing a line from Hrabal).
Islam came over and shook hands and leaned over to Tomas.
'You know some good anti-virus program?' he asked.
'You have a virus?' Tomas asked.
Tomas wrote a site address on a napkin and handed to Islam.
'It's free,' Tomas said. 'The site -- it's free.'
Later his student Stazka came, along with a tall guy named Lukas and another guy whose name I forget at the moment. Under the storm, in the warm cafe, we had another of our endlessly circular conversations in varying shades of English and Czech. There were even songs. The beer finally arrived in frothy pints, but since I was already on the střík didn't want to change boats in mid-stream. After a while I forgot about the visa issue and just enjoyed the evening. There were so many evenings like this.

Posted by James Tressler at 03:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (1323)

12:55 a.m. When Islam and I arrived there were already about 50 people outside the office. Most were stretched out on make-shift beds, blankets with bits of newspaper underneath. A few Russians and Ukranians drank beer purchased at nearby all-nite shops, and chatted in circles. Somewhere music drifted from a radio. With about seven hours to wait, fortunately it was a mild, clear summer night.
'Ah, the visa fight,' Islam said. 'Everywhere there is war. War for oil. War for food. And now war for visa.' He chuckled to himself.
The majority of the people waiting for visas tend to be from the Ukraine. Many work in construction, and are responsible for the work that's gone into Prague's building boom the past decade. This morning a heavy-set Ukranian man and a couple girls were putting people's names on a list. I didn't like this or trust it. I've been to the Foreign Police before and know that it usually dissolves into a free-for-all when the doors open, and who were these list-makers anyway?
'I think it's pretty corrupt,' said one Australian guy, who was back for a second attempt like me and Islam. 'It's mostly Ukraine people and they try to control the process. But I don't see any way around it.'
Still feeling highly skeptical, I added my name along with Islam's. We were listed at 145 and 146 respectively.
'You should get in,' the Australian guy said. 'Yesterday I was 300 and just missed the cut. They ran out of numbers just before.'
230 a.m. The broad-shouldered Ukraine guy, the apparent leader, is doing a roll call. Islam had decided to go for a walk to stretch his legs, so when our names come up I answer for him. Everyone looks tired, tense, but there are moments of laughter, such as when the Ukraine guy tries to pronounce the Vietnamese names on the list. Not that he does better with English ones. He pronounces my name, 'Yam-ez Treezler.'
'Here,' I say.
430 a.m.Another roll-call. This time, the Ukraine leader, aided by other Ukraines, begins trying to start the actual line. By now there are about 200 people. We're pushed back and back, while names are called. The scene starts to get tense with all the pushing. People step forward, trying to hear their names. 'This is ridiculous,' I say to an African man next to me. He speaks English, and nods in agreement. More shoving, people step forward and try to get the Ukraine man's attention, checking and rechecking the list for their names, insisting. A few of the men are obviously drunk, and they begin gesticulating and cursing in Russian. This is never going to work, I mutter to myself.
At one point, a couple Russians get into a shouting match with the Ukraine leader and he gives a 'hell-with-it' gesture and hands the list over and strolls off. Then dozens of hands are reaching for the papers, and there's more shoving and cursing. One man goes ballistic, chattering and unleashing a volley of orders in screeching Russian.
This isn't working.
During the ensuing chaos, I quietly slip through. No one stops me. I go and join the small group of people already called on the list and have a seat. No one stops me.
I go and sit next to a youngish guy who tells me he's from Uzbekistan. He's been waiting for the last two days.
'But today I should get in,' he says. "I'm number three on the list.'
'Two days?' I grow alarmed.
'Some people they are here for five days,' he says.
'The other day the news media was here,' the young man continues. 'They had cameras, there was a story. But still nothing really changes.'
Hell with it. There's no way I'm waiting five days. Hell with their lists. The thing is to be as close to the front door as possible when it opens.
6 a.m. The police arrive, a dozen of them in black slick suits. This is a new wrinkle from last year. But I'd heard even with police there were still problems. Recently a couple of the cops were fired because they were found to be taking bribes from people to get places in line. This morning the police spread out and stretch out poles with red tape to control the perimeter of the line. I'm within shouting distance of the entrance, about 30 people ahead. I notice at the very front of the line is none other than -- the big Ukraine guy, our list man, the great organizer. Amazing his ability to combine community and self service, a lesson for us all. Oh well, good enough. I don't know where Islam is, and look around for him but don't see him. Hopefully he'll get in.
7 a.m. The doors open. It's actually much more orderly with the police around. A certain calm has settled over the crowd. The police let in the first dozen or so. After a few minutes the next wave, and so on. Upstairs I get a coveted number and sit down. I'm so tired I'm a little dizzy, mostly worn-down nerves from all the waiting and uncertainty.
830 a.m. Islam and Anwar come upstairs. They got in! I wave and they wave back, and I remember that I've got one of Islam's documents in my bag, so go over and get it to him. A few minutes later my number comes up on the screen. 'Good luck,' my friends say.
845 a.m. The girl at the desk is young, early twenties. It's her first day, and two other women are training her. 'It's terrible,' one of the older women says. 'It's summer and some of our colleagues have holiday.'
My paperwork is in good order. The women hand me a receipt. 'Come back in 30 days,' they say.
Bummer. Last year they gave me the visa on the spot. This year I have to come back and pick it up. In 30 days. That means another pleasant all-nighter at the foreign police.
I got home and slept for a few hours. I heard Islam come in about 1130. 'I must going back,' he says. 'I am missing some papers.'
'Me too. I mean I have to go back in 30 days to pick up the visa.'
'Ah, the life is hard,' Islam said.
We went in to sleep.

Posted by James Tressler at 05:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (1800)

The day I always dread finally arrived. My visa expires at the end of the month, so it's time to head to the Foreign Police Office and get it renewed. Let me explain.
As any foreigner here will attest, the trip to the office is about on par with attending a mob riot. The office, located in Žižkov, neighorhood east of the center, is woefullly inadequate to meet the needs of the literally thousands of immigrants -- Vietnamese, Ukraine, Russian, American, and so on -- who each day go there.
Each year I've gone it's got worse, not better. The problem is, that before the Czech Republic joined the Schengen Zone this year, the country used to be a lot more lax about visas. A foreigner could stay for 90 days on a tourist visa, then hop over the border to Germany or Slovakia for a day, come back and the 90 days would start all over again. So many workers never bothered getting legal, even though many, like myself, did get legal. The system then at the Foreign Police was already overtaxed. Now, with the tighter Schengen rules, the system is simply out of control. Imagine a thousand people trying to squeeze through one small door, about the size of the Times-Standard front door, at the same time, all with the same mission, the same urgency, the same sense of righteous purpose.
Last year, I got up at 4 a.m. (the office opens at 730) and was one of the fortunate first ones to arrive. Even though that doesn't matter much. By the time the doors open, loads of latecomers eschew the long line and take their chances on just crashing the door. You can get crushed if you're not careful. Everyone crashes the door because there are only so many tickets given out for service. A machine upstairs dispenses the tickets and you wait for your number to be called. Once the tickets are gone then that's it -- you have to come back the next day. And of course, there are far more people than tickets. That's why the mob mentality takes over. For a while some scammers were getting all the tickets early on and selling them at absurdly inflated prices (the tickets are free); recently the office installed a policeman to watch over the ticket machine. Last year I was lucky though; I got through the doors, survived the onslaught, got a precious number and was out the door with visa in hand by 8 o'clock.
This year, my flatmate Islam, the guy from Bangladesh, and one of his friends, Anwar, made the journey together. He finished his job at Pavels at 1 a.m. and after a short sleep, the three of us set out at 4 a.m. on foot for the office. Along the way, Islam hummed an Eastern melody, and Anwar exchanged jokes and grins. Me, impatient as always, walked ahead. Islam had wanted to wait for the night trams, which come once an hour, but I knew a way on foot. We crossed through the park at reigrovy sady and down the hill, a trip that took about a half hour.
'When we arrived at 4:30, my heart sank. Even from a few blocks away, I could see it wasn't good. People were already lined up around the building. A loose conflageration of people, of all nationalities, all looking tense and tired. A few Ukraine or Russian guys were doing crowd control, pushing people back, and one was putting names on a list. We couldn't figure out if he actually worked there (doubtful) or had appointed himself some kind of manager of the scene. You see people like that, and you're never sure if they're really trying to do some good, or just making some kind of scam. Here and there were people with blankets.
'People are coming yesterday,' Islam observed.
After about twenty minutes we decided it was hopeless. Even if we managed to get inside the building when the doors opened, it was highly doubtful there would be any tickets left. Highly doubtful.
'We come back tomorrow,' Islam said. 'Very early.'
'Tonight,' I said, setting a mental alarm. Midnight. That would mean we'd wait overnight. That's about four hours longer than last year.
The journalist in me thought of doing a write up for the Post on the situation, but another reporter already beat me to it. I eagerly read the story, hoping to see that things will change. But the officials shake their heads. Yes, the system is overworked, deplorable. But there's not much that can be done. The workers are underpaid, there's no money, the usual reasons.
Having read the story a few weeks ago, I knew to expect the worst. And it doesn't exactly make you forward to next year.
'And think about in ten years,' Islam said. 'Ah, Life is hard.' He laughed in a tired way. We got the metro back to our neighborhood.
'So you can see,' Islam added, back at the flat. 'There is nothing like your mother country.'
'What's that?'
'Your mother country. There we do not need visas.'
'Yeah.'
'Maybe America is better.'
Maybe, I thought. It's true. Why deal with all this? Back in the States I could just work. Let the foreigners put up with it. I could just go back to being a comfortable American and not worry.
We both crashed for a couple hours. Then my phone beeped. A message from an old student, Jana. She wants to know if I'd like to go with her to Slovakia in a couple weeks, spend some time in the High Tatry Mountains. The mountains, in the northwest of the country, are said to be serene and lovely, a real jewel of Eastern Europe, a gateway to the East anyway. And Jana is a good friend, we have had great discussions about literature and politics, so it will be a good chance to catch up, possibly over glasses of Moravian wine.
The message made me feel better. I got up, resigned to make the journey back to the Foreign Police again tonight. After all, it may be the very definition of misery, but at least it's only once a year. Anyhow, there could be better journeys ahead.
TOMORROW: Hopefully me, Islam and Anwar will have our visas! Will update.

Posted by James Tressler at 02:18 AM | Permalink | Comments (317)