I've been dreaming about going back to the Czech Republic of late. Normally when I think about the Czech Republic, images of Praha, Zlín, or Hradec Králové come to mind.
Not Ostrava.
Except for lately.
It was the city of my first fall and winter in ČR--the very first city of my mission.
I remember the very first day I stayed in our missionary apartment, spíš, byt (omlouvám se). It was dark, and rainy, but it was fabulous. My companion and I plus 2 other missionaries endured the five hour train ride from Prague and I was jet-lagged, and utterly exhausted.
When we got to our byt, we weren't the only one's there. To our surprise, a couple of the members of the Ostrava branch were there, curious to see what the new greeny would be like. Lot's of laughing and joking ensued, and I had no idea of what was being said or laughed about (most likely me, and the fact I couldn't understand anything they said in their clipped, brusque accent).
I had my first taste of Kofola that night. First thoughts? Absolutely disgusting. But it was one of those things that grew on me as I spent more time in the country.
The next morning at 6:30am, my companion asked what I would like to do for our exercise time. I requested a tour of the downtown. It was then that I fell in love with the park pictured above. A tree lined path that went on forever, bordering the Ostravice River.
It's funny. I found so much beauty, joy, and love in this town that was known as the 'armpit' of the country. I loved it, coal mine dust and all.
It's funny. Out of the four cities I lived in, this is the one that's been on my mind.
Can I run away to Europe? Or perhaps I just want another day like those fall days in Ostrava.
It was the city of my first fall and winter in ČR--the very first city of my mission.
I remember the very first day I stayed in our missionary apartment, spíš, byt (omlouvám se). It was dark, and rainy, but it was fabulous. My companion and I plus 2 other missionaries endured the five hour train ride from Prague and I was jet-lagged, and utterly exhausted.
When we got to our byt, we weren't the only one's there. To our surprise, a couple of the members of the Ostrava branch were there, curious to see what the new greeny would be like. Lot's of laughing and joking ensued, and I had no idea of what was being said or laughed about (most likely me, and the fact I couldn't understand anything they said in their clipped, brusque accent).
I had my first taste of Kofola that night. First thoughts? Absolutely disgusting. But it was one of those things that grew on me as I spent more time in the country.
The next morning at 6:30am, my companion asked what I would like to do for our exercise time. I requested a tour of the downtown. It was then that I fell in love with the park pictured above. A tree lined path that went on forever, bordering the Ostravice River.
It's funny. I found so much beauty, joy, and love in this town that was known as the 'armpit' of the country. I loved it, coal mine dust and all.
It's funny. Out of the four cities I lived in, this is the one that's been on my mind.
Can I run away to Europe? Or perhaps I just want another day like those fall days in Ostrava.
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