Sharise and I started out the day with a pleasant walk in the park with the dogs. I think she spends quite a bit of time in the park with them, throwing balls, letting them socialize with other dogs and burning off their boundless energy. The mother and son, Jessie and Helmut play with each other and take turns chasing after the ball. They are a delight to watch and play with. I threw the ball a few times with a stick used to throw the ball a good distance.
After we took them back to the flat, we went to Cafe Faux Pas for breakfast. We each ordered a latte and a crepe filled with salmon and spinach. She said many expats lived in the area. I heard quite a few Americans on the street or in the city, some didn't seem to be tourists, but residents like Sharise. Sharise says this is her home now and she wouldn't return back to the US if she can gain permanent residency here. I'm starting to understand why, I may consider becoming an expat. There isn't anything waiting for me in the US except my parents, who would worry about me endlessly and my fourteen year old dog, Denbo
We headed into town for the Mucha Museum which I told Sharise before the trip, was the only thing I had planned on seeing in Prague. All other site seeing recommendations, I left up to her. I just wanted to spend time with Sharise, which was one of my only reasons for coming to Prague and what led me to make my way around Europe.
We got to the Mucha Museum and I hesitated. Sharise had planned on trying to do some writing while waiting for me, because she had an assignment that was almost due. She walked with me to the museum ticket booth and I hesitated in buying the ticket. I wasn't in the mood to see the Mucha exhibit even though seeing his work was one of the reasons for my visit to Prague. I don't remember what I said or how it started, but Sharise was exasperated with my bringing up the Swede and told me it was stupid of me to not share my blog URL with him or get his information if I liked him so much. I didn't realize it, but I talked about him quite a bit and I thought about him incessantly. I think to her it didn't make sense for me to talk about someone I liked so much and not share my blog with him. And she's right, it didn't make sense but at the time it did, for me, because I was afraid of what he might discover about me on the blog.
I told myself after we parted at the subway station, "Detachment. Don't become attached to this guy." We were both traveling, we had a great day together and he was much younger than me. But other things went through my mind during the day we spent together, "Why is this attractive, intelligent, sophisticated young man spending his day with me?" After all, I was wearing a skirt with no tights or stockings, an unattractive gray hoodie and ballet flats. My shirts, socks and pants were drying on a rack at the flat. We met in a ticket line outside a little building for the Bundestag Dome. We started talking and he was instantly sweet and interesting. After we made our reservation for visiting the dome in the evening, we spent the day together, talking endlessly about history, politics, art, culture. I thoroughly enjoyed his company and couldn't believe I could find someone so interesting to talk to and so wonderful to be around. I was honestly attracted to him in so many ways, but doubted myself throughout the day., feeling self conscious at times. In the subway car on our way to my stop, a young woman stared at him endlessly trying to make eye contact with him. I don't remember if they did, I stared at her, unable to believe her boldness. I must be missing something, some essential body language, techniques, communication between people that brings two people together. Looking back, I wish I had done things differently, given my companion my blog URL, shared some information, had the energy to go dancing with him at a nightclub that he was going to with friends, but I didn't. Did I throw away a golden opportunity or did I truly believe that this was meant to be a temporal thing, a fleeting moment of human connection and happiness with another person, a glimpse into a life that I wanted, that this was possible? Before we parted, he wished me safe travels and gave me a wink. It felt like the end. Though I didn't want it to end, I felt like it needed to end, in order for me to learn and to move on. I couldn't attach myself to a person, but I somehow have, by thinking of him incessantly and wishing I had done things differently, regret.
This brings me to Sharise's comment at the Mucha ticket booth, "Susan, it was stupid of you not to share your information with the guy!" and that hurt. I couldn't hold back the tears. I cried at the subway stop as the train approached. I went back to the point where we said our "Goodbyes." I cried when I reached the flat, thinking about him and what a terrible mistake I felt like I had made. I cried there at the ticket booth because of regret, because I felt stupid and Sharise was right, it was stupid but it was also stupid to talk about him after I had made my decision to not share my blog with him because I was afraid my blog would become too personal and too honest. What if he read my blog, what if? Sharise doesn't hold back her comments, she's frank and honest. Maybe this was something I needed to hear, but at the time it was painful and I couldn't bear it hearing from someone else how silly and stupid I was. The tears flowed for quite some time. I tried wiping them, bought a beer at a stand in the square and we walked to the metronome. But I couldn't stop crying no matter how hard I tried to think of something else. I was disappointed with myself. Would I meet someone else, will I be alone in life, unable to figure out the rules of the dating game, which I haven't played in over a decade? We stopped at a bridge so I could take photos to take my mind off my sadness. Then we crossed the street and approached the many steps to the metronome at the top of the hill. I needed to climb those steps quickly, clutching my beer, finding a distraction. When we reached the metronome, a symbol of Czech freedom, a tall red needle swaying back and forth in some strange beat, we sat near it, taking in a view of the city. I realized that Sharise said what she had to say and I needed to hear it so I could stop talking and thinking about him so I could move on. We all make mistakes and learn from them, then move on. At least that's what we're supposed to do, not repeat mistakes and find ways to move on and not fixate on them, constantly beating ourselves up for being absent-minded or stupid when we needed to be aware and alert. Ultimately, I know this was supposed to happen, everything on this trip was supposed to happen because I'm learning from all of it, I'm living.
We walked through a park and found our way to the Prague Castle and Cathedral. I was still feeling sullen and tried taking photographs to improve my mood. We found the Queen's Palace and the Orangery, which led to the entrance to the Castle and Cathedral. We saw the changing of the guards at the Castle Gate, guarded by young handsome men in uniform. We walked around the exterior of the church but it didn't seem to be open I find myself not wanting to do certain things on the trip which I thought would be the typical tourist thing to do, visit the museum and cathedrals, but something in me resists. I don't want to be the tourist, but I fell into a tourist trap and was swindled. It happened so quickly. After we walked across the Charles Bridge, Sharise needed to go home to take her dogs out for a walk in the park and to write her article. She thought it would be good for me to spend some time alone shopping or exploring the city. I approached a stand in the square and tried to order a slice of ham, but they tried to serve and charge me more for the ham than I wanted or what was listed on the sign prices, so I walked away to get more money. I've been so careful and cautious with money, but this time I just didn't think. I went to an ATM and a man asked me if I had change for a 1,000 Crowns, which was about $50. Stupidly, I did the exchange, looked at the money and realized that something didn't seem right. I went to the Exchange Bureau and asked the man what kind of money this was because it looked Russian. He said it was Belarussian money, which was worth nothing.
I called Sharise and told her what happened. We met at a tram stop and I lost my appetite and like for the city. I felt like a tourist, what was I doing in the tourist area, being a tourist? I don't know why I wasn't thinking or more alert. But Sharise said, that we all do stupid stuff, she does stupid stuff. We all make mistakes! We might beat ourselves up for a little white, but must learn from it, become more cautious and move on. This was a little mistake, just money. Worse things could happen like a more costly mistake or injury. This was a warning as a lone female traveler, always be aware, especially who you interact with. I won't take my father's advice, "Don't trust anyone!" to the extreme. You have to be open sometimes, otherwise how will you meet great people and have wonderful experiences, but listening to our intuition is important and knowing when to take risks.
One thing I've learned about being with the Swede, Bilal and Sharise is it's nice to have companions and friends while traveling, but it's essential for me to learn to be alone. I need to look and feel confident when I'm alone anywhere. This is what this trip is about for me, independence, confidence and learning to take care of myself and make good decisions, staying grounded and being aware, growing into the person I want to become. I know I'll get there one day.