Prague, Lovely City of Spires (and Sausages)

The overnight train from Freiburg to Prague was comfortable, although I was too shy to turn on the light (and so potentially disturb the German woman that shared my sleeping compartment) to actually figure out how to bring down the long seat into a bed. But I made do, sleeping tightly huddled so as to avoid falling off. After a lovely journey along the meandering Vltava River adorned with castles and manses, the train pulled into sun-kissed Prague early in the morning. My heart picked up its pace as I was about to meet my 21 year old cousin Christina (Hans and Rita's daughter) for the first time.

There she was on the platform, this beautiful vision with windswept brown hair, a red corduroy skirt and black tights. We spent two days exploring the wonders of Prague arm in arm and I got a chance to know my cousin: a smart, social med student with a penchant to party. Prague is exceptional: it is like an expansive theatrical set of magnificent, voluptuous buildings with monuments at every corner. With just over a million people, Prague is not as large as it seems. Many of the monuments come from the 14th century during the reign of Charles IV, and the Soviet occupation after World War II until the early 90s. Prague became the new capital after the split of Czechoslovakia in 1993.

While Christina dashed off to attend a biochemistry lecture, I zealously set off to conquer the heart of the city by foot. This was actually very ambitious given that I haven't walked more than 200 meters for the last year in Afghanistan and my feet were definitely paying the price by the end of the visit! Well, I had complained endlessly about my desire to walk in Afghanistan to Tariq, and walk I did. My first point of reference was the National Museum, an imposing, soot-blackened edifice on Wenceslas Square. The street was a hive of slavic faces and the staccato of Czech spoken among the crowds. Mingled in were some Roma gypsies in their homespun clothing. There were also hordes of European tourists as well; obviously Prague is a much-loved tourist destination in Europe.

Avidly shopping all along the way, I made my way to statuesque Saint Charles Bridge and then the breathtaking Old Town Square. It is difficult for me to adequately describe either the bridge or the square - I've never seen anything like them anywhere. There is a vast, royal sense of spaciousness and grandeur to both and their heritage and beauty unparalleled. It was a privilege to experience them in person. I stopped at a nearby stand and for 60 crowns (about $3.50) bought the biggest hot-dog I've ever seen with this amazing, spicy sausage, mustard and sauerkraut. It was delicious.

Later that evening, Christina organized a dinner at an Italian pizzeria in the Old Town Square with her med school group of friends. As they discussed the fine points of the dissection of cadavers, I tried to focus instead on the mediterranean flavors. The next day, Christina took me to the Prague Castle, whose claim to fame is that it is the largest continuous castle complex in the world. Both the gardens and buildings were exceptional - at this point, I felt so saturated by exceptional buildings that I could barely register another monument with due appreciation. There were also some Soviet contributions to the built environment - massive, foreboding structures that seemed intent to convey brute power. It sounds stereotypical, but true to my experience.

We walked arm in arm through the very chic neighborhood that encircles the Castle, stopping at a bakery along the way, and along the Vltava River to the Saint Charles Bridge. After a trot up the 138 steps of the St. Charles Bridge Tower (at which point my feet were beyond burning, not to mention the state of my lungs), we enjoyed a magnificent view of the river, the castle and the thousand spires of metropolitan Prague. It must be one of the nicest places to kiss in the entire world, and I blew a kiss to Tariq at the very top and made a wish that it would reach him in Kabul. Christina reminds me of my friend Antonella: she loves to travel, loves everything Italian, loves people, is generous and full of life.

I had an opportunity to ask her some questions to piece together a little more of the family history. Apparently her grandmother never told my (our) grandfather about her baby, Hans. Hans found out as a teenager that he had a different father than his mother's husband, and later in life hired a detective to find my family in Canada. How fascinating - I had had no idea. I feel so lucky to discover my new family members after all this time. I have so much in common with Mira and Christina and I look forward to keeping in touch with them.