I Was Almost Killed by a Sniper on the Tram This Afternoon*

After class today, I hopped onto a tram and took it (once again) to Andel and made a stop at Tesco so I could buy some notebooks and bread. Coming out of the Tesco (a European version of Walmart), I saw my tram pull up and I was cheered by the great luck I had happened upon. I would be home sooner than I had expected, and I was even looking forward to the trek up the hill.

But somewhere between the U Zlvonu (I think that's what it's called) and Bertramka, we ran into a little problem. I was thinking happy thoughts and thoroughly enjoying my life, so I didn't immediately notice that the tram had stopped prematurely. I was pleased I had the opportunity to look at shops that I usually don't get to look at. After a few minutes, though, I began to notice something was wrong. Stops were never this long, the doors hadn't opened, and I hadn't heard the automated Czech voice declaring the stop.

I looked around the tram car to see how others were responding to this. I was comforted by the fact that the man across the aisle from me was calmly reading "Dnes," what I can only assume is a daily newspaper. It was only when I saw a man in orange out in the street shouting at cars and hordes of people, obviously displaced from their trams, walking up the street that I began to be worried. Why were they walking up the street? Why were they not sitting comfortably, guarding their wallets and purses from pickpockets? But Dnes man was still reading his newspaper and I felt that I should take my cues from him--it's better to be calm in a horrible situation than it is to be freaked out in a fine one.

And then the people in the back of the car started banging on the doors, trying to find a way to open them. That's when it struck me--the tram had received death threats from anti-commuter terrorist groups and they were about to blow up the tram and had the entire area surrounded with snipers. It was a no-win situation. All was lost. How could Dnes man read the newspaper when his moments were limited?--either he would be blown up or shot to death, depending on the end he chose. If I had not been worried about my own life, I would have applauded this man. He was the equivalent of the string orchestra playing as the Titanic went down.

The orange man came into our car and opened the front door, shortly saying some things to us. I have no idea what he said, but the people in the back of the car booked it to the front and got out of the door. I followed them, deciding the people left sitting in their seats had chosen to sacrifice themselves to the certain death from the bombs for those of us who were younger, and had more life, and decided to brave the snipers.

I still wasn't completely sure what was going on, but I didn't want to ask. To do so would risk my own safety. What if, upon hearing I was American, the terrorists decided that I should be the first to die? Or what if the Czechs decided to offer me up as a sacrifice? Or what if they forced me to stay on the wired tram with the other sacrificees?

I refused to risk it.

So I got out of the tram car and began walking up the road to the next tram stop. There were three other trams stopped, other victims, I can only imagine, of the threats.

Literally two seconds after I had gotten off the tram, the tram stopped at the front of the pack began moving and, slowly but surely, the rest followed suit. I quickened my pace to try to catch a tram up the hill--I would face bombs rather than that walk. As I got to the tram stop, my tram pulled up and I jumped into it and plopped down two seats behind where I had originally been sitting, behind Dnes man.

I consider myself lucky that the terrorists called off their snipers, turned off their bombs, and let the daily commute recommence. Otherwise I may not be here.


*It is entirely possible that most of this took place solely in my head.