Spoiled on New York subways, Prague’s Metro’s closing at midnight was a little bit of a shock, but then we discovered the night trams and said goodbye to rip-off taxis and hello night trams.

The night trams run right after midnight in half-hour intervals. There are 10 lines — 51–59 — each stopping off at Lazarská, the central interchange stop for all the night trams. Since every tram stops there, a fool-proof plan for every late-night spree is to find your way to Lazarská as a base point and then transfer to whichever tram takes you to the appropriate dorm. Though you might have forgotten how to study, memorize these tram numbers and stops, and you’re golden.

Máchova – Tram 59 takes you right to your dorm at stop Jana Masaryka. If you’re too impatient to wait for the 59, Trams 51 and 57 also stop at Námestí Míru.
Slezská – Tram 51 stops at Vinohradská vodárna, which is just two stops after Námestí Míru and a block away from the dorm. For a slightly longer walk, you can opt for Trams 57 and 59 to Námestí Míru.
Jaurisova – It’s best to take tram 56 to Pod Jezerkou.
Osadní – Get off at the Delnická stop, which is about a block away off of the Tram 54.

Still don’t get it? In case you’re still a bit lost, the Prague Wanderer’s got you covered with some tram tips for our favorite hotspots.

It’s Wednesday and you’re leaving Mecca at 2:15 a.m.

• You live in Máchova. The taxi drivers keep taunting you but you’re thinking you could make the 2:22 a.m. tram. Power walk two blocks down Komunardú to the Delnická stop. Take the 54 tram in the direction ofLehovec to Lazarská and wait for the 59 tram in the direction of Nádrazí Hostivar, which takes you right home to Jana Masaryka.
• Don’t live in Máchova and also partied at Mecca? For Jaurisova, take Tram 54 to Lazarská, get off, and take the 56 tram in the direction of Sporilov to Pod Jezerkou. For Slezská , take Tram 54 to Lazarská and then take the 51 going towards Radošovická to find home sweet home, Vinohradská vodárna.

But what about Thursdays at Radost FX?

• Heading to Jaurisova? Take Tram 56 that gets to I.P. Pavlova at 3:20 a.m. straight to Pod Jezerkou. Don’t go the wrong direction – you’re looking for the tram heading towardsSporilov.
• For Osadní, hop on Trams 51, 57, or 59 at Námestí Míru. Take it to Lazarská and then wait for Tram 54 towards Sídlište Barrandov that takes you back to Delnická.

We take our weekday partying seriously, meaning Tuesday nights at Chapeau Rouge:

• Everyone can travel together to the Námestí Republiky metro stop.  There, Slezská and Máchova students can catch a direct route home on Tram 51 towards Radošovická (Máchova kids, get off at Námestí Míru, but Slezská is once again just two stops after at Vinohradská vodárna). Those heading to Jaurisova and Osadní can take Tram 51 to Lazarská and transfer to Tram 56 to Sporilov and 54 to Sídlište Barrandov respectively.
• Want to get some fried cheese in Wenceslas Square first before heading home?  Tram 51 also has a stop directly in front of the club Lucerna, a perfect location for the drunken munchies.

We suggest a quick look at Google Maps for exact tram stop locations and dpp.cz for exact times. Now you can save all those cab crowns and put them towards something more productive …like beer.

By Andrea F. Pagliai

Solitude is an obsession for Hana Jakrlová. She lives it, documents it, and by doing so, strives to combat it. She is 40 years old, divorced, and temporarily living in Prague. Never completely alone, Jakrlová has her art; because of her art, she has many colleagues turned friends. It’s with them that she started the “Laughter and Forgetting Project” (a title taken from a Milan Kundera novel) in an attempt to unite photographers from all over the world to document the Czech Republic, 20 years after the Velvet Revolution. The project’s first phase has already begun.

She has cancelled and rescheduled today’s meeting three times already. Balancing a seemingly endless list of projects, ideas, and people, it makes one wonder how she pulls it all together. But right now she’s at ease in her Vinohrady apartment – thought still recovering from a ferocious ear infection that hospitalized her during the “L.A.F. Project’s” Forum 2000 Oct. 11^th-13^th 2009 début, leading her to miss most of the exhibition.

In Jakrlová’s own words, “being a photographer is a pretty lonely occupation, so I thought it would be great to organize something with all these photographers.” With “L.A.F.” Jakrlová unites international photographers to portray everyday life in the Czech Republic – two decades after the fall of Communism. In many ways the project, “is a symbol of the Czech Republic,” she explains. The recent 20-year anniversary of the Velvet Revolution makes it all the more timely.

The project has two phases – the second will take place in 2010. Next year, a foundation will be established to support lesser-known photographers living in totalitarian countries. An emphasis will be placed on documenting conflict-free, daily life. “We want to capture these ‘grey zones’ in non-democracies, where unless something horrible happens [there] no one cares,” Jakrlová adjoins.

Jakrlová knows something about regimes such as these. Born in Brno, the second largest city in the Czech Republic, Jakrlová studied architecture in Brno and in Prague. Practicing only for a year, she realized it did not excite her.

In the mid ‘90s she worked two years as a set designer for films and spent the rest of her twenties traveling and studying photography all over the world. In 1997 she studied at the Institute of Creative Photography in Opava, Czech Republic, after which she decided to take on the craft professionally.

Though slow to find her passion, Jakrlová has been a professional photographer for the past 10 years

A decade into her career, Jakrlová has become “a prominent name in the art world,” according to Photographer Nadia Shira Cohen – a professional photographer living in Rome who participated in “L.A.F.”

Nathalie Belayche – a photographer, curator, agent, and project organizer – lives in Paris and has collaborated with Jakrlová in the past. Belayche shares, “[Hana] is part of the contemporary scene,” but adds, “When a photographer has a story or project, they always have to keep on going, always thinking of the next thing.”

In Belayche’s opinion, that is exactly what Jakrlová is doing with “L.A.F.” “It’s always annoying for a photographer to be reduced to a single project,” in regards to Jakrlová’s  most controversial works, “Big Sister Project.”

The project garnered Jakrlová a great deal of attention due its controversial subject matter. While “Big Sister” appears to be a photojournalistic story, Jakrlová quickly makes a distinction, calling it a “conceptual documentary project.”

The brothel, also named Big Sister, operates peculiarly. The brothel is almost entirely funded by interview viewers who observe live streams of the encounters between visiting men and prostitutes. Additionally, the men pay a small fee.

Jakrlová’s digital, color images are eerily poetic. Jakrlová specifically chose color to make the project the least photojournalistic as possible. She’s not making a statement with the content of the image – however doubtful it may seem (most show two people in the throws of gritty coition) – but instead with the juxtaposition of ideas: intimacy and solitude; color and life, contrasted with emotion-less expressions and business-like exchanges between two peoples.

However, don’t tell her its reportage, or that she’s a photojournalist. “I did it as an art project,” she says. With photojournalism, Jakrlová clarifies, “you tell a story and that’s it.” While the distinction might seem slight, to Jakrlová it’s essential.

Cohen explains that Jakrlová might shy away from the photojournalist label “because of the responsibility that comes with it.” Conceptualizing it puts a distance between subject and art.

Jakrlová shares: “The way I work – unless it is on assignment – is that I just follow a theme without exactly knowing what is going to happen. Then I look at the work and I see the theme that comes out.”

This is the case with her ongoing project, titled: “Solitude.” Finding solitude – usually in urban spaces – Jakrlová notes: “The more we are surrounded by people, the more we are lonely.” What interests her about “Big Sister” is, “how it defines the borders between the most private things: intimacy, sex, and the most public thing – Internet.” She elaborates, “ I am interested in the Internet and how it brings people closer but also alienates.”

However, Belayche hopes that now people will have another opinion of Jakrlová. She explains, “I think that it’s really well for her to do a project like “L.A.F.,” because she’s not only a photographer who goes into brothels. She felt like that was something she had to do, but hopefully [now] she’s doing something else.”

Before she photographed Big Sister, Jakrlová focused on Europe, working mainly in black and white. For “Ways of Communication,” she photographed the nine cities of the 2000 European Cities of Culture. The resulting collection work gave her the material for “Europeans,” an internationally published and exhibited show beginning in 2001.

This work not only got her noticed by London-based Eric Franck Fine Art Gallery in 2003, but also earned her a book deal. The idea behind her first 2006 photo-book, titled, In the Meantime: Europe, was conceived during her travels after the fall of Communism.

The book was published in 2006 with an introduction by former President of the Czech Republic Václav Havel, in which he writes, “I think Hana Jakrlová’s photographs not only show the vast diversity of our continent, but they also present a great range of emotions: hope, boredom, distress, pain, and also fleeting joy…yes, this is the world today.”

It is a great accomplishment to publish a book, have Havel write an introduction for it, and gain representation from Eric Franck. Despite this, the majority of people interviewed believe that “Big Sister” is the project that continues to garner the most attention for Jakrlová, for better or for worse.

Jakrlová also attracts personal attention for she is quite beautiful. Her hair, a swirling dirty blonde mix, generally holds a red flower, clipped in its midst. Speaking a mile-a-minute, she weaves in-and-out of Czech, French, German, Russian, and English.

A passionate woman, some think Jakrlová doesn’t always assess the risks before jumping into a new project.

“Her greatest strength is passion and it’s also her greatest weakness,” shares Stephanie Entin, a close friend living in Manhattan. This was the case with “Big Sister.” The emotional and mental difficulties made it so that the project took a toll on her life.

In 2007, Jakrlová took time away from “Big Sister” and photography in general. She went to work for the Forum 2000 organization. Working with all these people gave her the energy to put together the “L.A.F.” and show it at the Forum’s 2009 event, this past October.

One can see how her life is a reflection of her work – as is the case with many artists. Belayche specifies, “there are famous Czech photographers, but Hana is international.” However, her constant travels may increase her solitude. When asked if Jakrlová would settle down, Belayche says, “I hope she will,” chuckling, “but she has to slow down a little bit.”

Ondřej Nejedlý, a Czech lawyer and international adventure guide who led Jakrlová on a tour of Mont Blanc in 2009, attests to the fact that Jakrlová stands out from the rest. He remembers, “she’s far from a typical Czech person – she’s a universe type of person.”

For now, Prague is no longer enough. Hana’s independent and wild nature will take her to New York, in a permanent move taking place this winter. It is a move she has been contemplating for a while and it makes sense. Jakrlová says, “I have more contacts in New York than I do in Prague.”

Smrad (noun)

Pronounced smrahd, meaning stink.

E.G. Ty smrdíš. (You stink).

http://www.facebook.com/events/edit/index.php?eid=343316155698#!/event.php?eid=343316155698 This event is organized by RA Petra: pz17@nyu.edu

Fight: Miss the zooming, twirling, rocketing, spinning roller coasters and tilt-o-whirls of summer carnivals? Well, it might not be the same as Six Flags, but Matejska Pilgrimage does offer the familiar sights, sounds, and smells of our favorite American theme parks.  Fast food, oriental sweets, and gingerbread hearts in addition to 130 rides, ranging from carousels to bumper cars make for a fun-filled day. This festival, located in Holesovice, began the 27 of February and runs until the 18 of April. To find out more: http://www.matejskapout.cz/

Listen: Head out to Akropolis Café on Friday night for Ocean Versus Daughter, a Prague band complete with piano, cello, violin, guitar, synthesizer, and drums; they’ll be playing with musicians Justin Lavash, Monika Naceva, and Ken Nash. The concert starts at 19:30 in the Grand hall and tickets run from 140-170. Palác Akropolis s.r.o. Kubelíkova 1548/27130 00, Praha 3. For ticket info: http://www.palacakropolis.cz/program/2010-03-12

Party: You might not be in Dublin, but St. Patrick’s Day is still just around the corner!  Check out the Irish Music Festival, hosted by Caffrey’s Irish Bar in Old Town Square, has lined up groups from Ireland and the Czech Republic to play Celtic rock and dance to ballads in the 13^th annual Irish Music Festival. Enjoy a beer from the bar and music from the Emerald Isle on March 13^th-20^th. Caffrey’s Irish Bar: Old Town Square 10, 110 00, Prague 1. For more info: http://www.irishmusicfestival.cz/homepage.html

Watch: On Wednesday, head over to Sir Toby’s, a cozy hostel in Prague 7, for an international film festival. This event is a tribute to “Cinema di Frontiera,” a festival from in Marzamemi, Italy, and will be in Prague for the week. The festival is a hodgepodge of music, improvisation, and audio/video samples. The authors of the project are Antonio Musco and Nicola Pavone. More info online: www.msk.fm and http://www.sirtobys.com/Events.html

Sergey had been sitting across from me on the red velour train seats for over seven hours.  I woke up to him looking out the window. He immediately reminded me of a mall-Santa, unsure if it was comforting to have company or disconcerting. His graying beard supported his round cheeks and the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes seemed like he spent a lot of his life crying or laughing.  He was wearing ironed black trousers, and newly polished black shoes, but his coat looked like he’d been working in mines, and duck tape was holding part of the collar in place. I don’t remember why we started talking, although surely he made the first gesture of conversation when we were about an hour outside of Moscow. When he spoke I turned my head slightly to avoid the wave of his breath that smelled like moldy library books and grape juice. We skipped over the common questions you ask people you meet during your travels, “where are you going,” “where do you live?” It didn’t seem relevant for out inevitability short-term relationship.

Although he had a serious gaze and hadn’t smiled, his mannerism seemed grandfatherly and subdued. He was keen on asking questions, but seemed to be answering mine with more questions, in a philosophical way that you can only do when talking to strangers. I told him I would just be in Moscow for half a day or so until my next train boarded.  He insisted that I must have a cup authentic Russian coffee before I leave. I agreed, and decided to cautiously follow him on the metro towards Pushkin Square, a popular and tourist filled spot not far from Red Square and the Kremlin.   I was expecting to be lead into a lavish café, my mind picturing all cafes in Russia to be like New York’s Russian Tea Room.

“Ahh-ha! Here is are!”  Sergey finally cracked a smile and a wink as he threw-up his hands pointed to the large Golden Arches of McDonalds.  The wrinkles on the side of his eyes came to life even more.  It was unclear if his gestures where a mark of humor, bring an American tourist to the iconic sign of Americanism, or if he was genuinely excited to get me a cup of excellent Russian coffee.   The smell of fried food against the cold air was startling, and there were as many cigarettes littered between the slabs of concrete as McDonald’s straw wrappers.  Pigeons poked at dirty French fries.

“This is the first modern historical landmark in Moscow!” he declared. Still, not being able to pick up on perhaps his wicked humor, I ask, “Huh?”

I actually was in front of a historical monument that represented a huge shift in the Soviet Union. It was only two years later after this McDonalds opened in 1990 that the Soviet Union ceased to exist as Mikhail Gorbachev resigned as leader of the country, and various Soviet republics proclaimed their independence.

In January of 1990 there was line around the corner to step inside what must have only then existed the idea of The United States, although Canadian McDonalds actually handled the Moscow opening.   The manifestation of neatly packaged food was a sure sign that capitalism was on its way, but more over the enthusiastic reception of McDonalds from Russian people signaled a strong desire to leave economic hardship and move on from political controversy.  Perhaps more than wanting to see the new McDonalds, joining the long lines was a political statement for change, or maybe the long lines were still a commonplace communist activity.

I gestured that I would wait outside as he went in to get coffee.  A few feet away a McDonalds employee was having a cigarette break, trading long exhales and deep coughs.  Her short dirty blonde hair was tied behind a visor that made the circles under her eyes more menacing than her small frame suggested.  Her arm was hugging her waist until a pop song played as her ringtone and she yelled, “Hello!” into her phone.  I peered in the tinted glass to see about twenty more cashiers similar to the age-less smoker, attend to the crowds of people. Tourists? Young Russians?  I couldn’t tell the difference, nor could I spot Sergey among people fighting for seats.

After Sergey bought my coffee we stood outside both looking onto the square now besieged with new glass buildings and other imported western chains.  In the silence I sensed neither of us felt apart of this place.  I wanted to ask him if he was in this very place more than almost 20 years ago, but as he pulled a flask out from his jackets and tapped the contents into his paper cup, I knew he would only answer my question with another question.  Guessing how he would have answered me, I silently asked myself if I would have been here that day.  The last thing I said to Sergey and he clasped my hand with both of his to say goodbye was, “Thanks again for the Russian Coffee.”

Maggie Owsley is a Social Justice Media Studies major at NYU Gallatin. See more of her work at www.andthenphotos.com.

Just because the fried cheese and goulash has grown on us doesn’t mean we don’t miss certain foods from America. Some of our homeland comforts don’t seem to hold the same importance among Czechs and have eluded existence in grocery stores and restaurants. While we’re all trying to bare the loss no longer having 24-hour delis on every block, or free tap water anywhere, you don’t have to wait to return to the United States to enjoy the items you crave. Here are some things that students thought didn’t exist in Prague, but have close enough substitutes to hold us over for the next few months.

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Big Ben  (Jane Timm)

By Clarke Bowling

Let’s just start this out with a bias: I love London. Having only ever visited the city on the Thames (rhymes with “hems”…don’t embarrass yourself!) in the summer, I was a bit worried about a winter trip. However, weather-be-damned, even dreary grey London runs a few degrees above freezing in February. Sorry to my newest lover, Praha, but with green grass on display for these snow-blinded eyes, Londontown is looking pretty good.

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While sitting at a bar in Bratislava, I watched as Anastazia Kuzmina won the gold medal in the 7.5-meter biathlon sprint at the Vancouver Olympics. The bar roared with cheers, whoops, and cries — a gold medal for Slovakia.

A woman from the next table over leaned to me. “Sorry for all this noise!” she said. “It’s just that this is our first gold medal.” She paused, and then amended her statement. “It may also be our last medal.”

And that, well, that’s Bratislava. You will have a good time there, but you can’t go with really high expectations. It’s a fun and an interesting place, but it is not another Prague or Vienna. It’s smaller, and the vestiges of communism are a lot more prevalent. Bratislava makes you appreciate the small things: finding one great bar (not three), eating nothing but pierogies all weekend (but they’re delicious), and celebrating boisterously the winning of a single gold medal (the only gold medal).

How to get there: EuroLines/SlovakLines bus for about €30 round trip.

Where to stay: We stayed in Hostel Possonium, which was wonderful. Clean, located close to the Old Town square and extremely helpful with directions and suggestions, we couldn’t have asked for a better hostel. It cost €15 a night. And the best part of the hostel? It had a bar in the basement themed after the Hostel movies with fake blood and torture devices everywhere. Apparently they know everyone is afraid of going to Bratislava. I also heard from other students we ran into that Hostel Blues was very nice.

How to get around: You can definitely walk from Hostel Possonium to the Old Town (which is is not nearly as big as Prague’s center by the same name.)  The only time we used public transportation was taking the tram from the bus station to the hostel. The tram cost €0.50 for a 15 minute ride.

What to do: See all the sights in the Old Town. We just went on a self-guided walking tour that was in our guidebook. Go see Bratislava Castle. The castle is nowhere near as impressive as Prague’s, but it’s located on a huge hill with great views of the city. Also, eat a lot. We found some great places for food.

What to eat: Pirohy. Often listed on menus in English as “Slovak pastry filled with” whatever, be it meat, cheese, sauerkraut or potato — all the pierogies are delicious. Also be sure to try some Zlatý Bažant (Golden Pheasant) beer. It’s the main brand in Slovakia and it tasted a lot like a typical American beer (Coors Light, to be specific). Check out the restaurant Flagship. It’s located in an old church and has gorgeous architecture, great food, and surprisingly low prices.

Currency: Euro

Tip?: Locals round up to the next 10, but foreigners tend to tip more.

If you’re only there for an hour: Go to the center of Old Town, see St. Michael’s Gate and some of the beautiful cobblestone passageways, then make your way to Flagship for some good food and company.

Sarah Kolinovsky is a NYU junior studying journalism and history.

The Czech Republic has miraculously one-upped NYU’s Going Green obsession by bringing conservation to their plumbing systems. With two toilet-flushing options available in most Czech bathrooms, occupants have the option to match virtually every WC visit with an appropriate flush. Resort back to the childish code words defining what it means to go #1 or go #2 and apply similar logic to the small and large button flush system. Simply put, the small button exerts less water than its larger counterpart, thus avoiding any need for the awkward double flush.

For those of you who conducted your own unscientific experiment by standing in the WC for a few minutes to compare the reaction of each press of the button, we applaud your curiosity. For those who wrote the double button system off as a strange foreign quirk, take note and try to only use as much water as necessary. The polar bears will thank you.

What do you think of Americans?

“I lived in Miami for five years. For me, America [the] country is very beautiful, and there is good from people, but government is shit. George Bush, no good. Young people, no good. Now young people are communists. America is nice place, but democratic system is communist.”
— Zef Pierdedaj, Kosmos Hotel Restaurant Manager, from Croatia

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