Friends

The CIEE program is all about friends--forcing them upon us, making us feel as though we did not pay them thousands of dollars for them to set us up with our "Czech Buddies" and "Czech Friends." The concept, of course, is fine. They introduce us to people from the Czech Republic so they can help us out as we traverse the world that is Prague--help us get a taste of the culture, figure out the public transportation systems, and get involved in the life of Prague. The names they give to these people, though, make it sound as though we are incapable of befriending people of our own accord.

Of course, even when they force "friends" upon us, there is no guarantee that we will become friends. In my case, that is. I'm just that much of a loose cannon (and that bad at small talk).

Yesterday we went on a daytrip to Northern Bohemia to look at folk trip. There were six of us on the trip, a very small number considering all the other day trips we went on we had to take a large coach bus (for this trip we took a Pilsner van--of all the things I would have expected Pilsner to sponsor, I never thought it would be driving). The first part of the trip we spent in Kourim, looking at an open-air folk architecture building. The second part of the trip was in Hradec Kralove.

First task there? Lunch with local students. Our new friends.

Somehow I, with my nonexistent small talk skills, got paired with fellow American Amanda, with equally terrible small talk skills, and three Czechs who, despite their excellent English, were obviously also not up to par with their small talk skills.

I suppose if we had really been paying attention, even before we sat down we should have noticed that ours would not be the most dynamic group. While all the other Czechs charged ahead and sat down at the first tables, our three Czechs hung back and took the last available table. Amanda and I did the same.

The first few seconds at the table were very telling of what lunch would be like--we all sat down, not saying anything, and then awkwardly looked around the table, trying to figure out where to start. We never found a good place to start.

Our questions got one word answers (Amanda asked the guy what type of music he listened to, and he responded, "Rock." "Do you listen to American music?" she asked. "No."), and all the usual small talk topics were quickly exhausted. They did try to ask us some things, as well ("Are there guys on your program?" "Yes. They're just not here today.") And when we tried to connect with them on the one thing we know in the Czech Republic, Prague, they asked, "What do you think of Prague?"
"I like it a lot, " I said.
"Yeah, so do I," responded Amanda.
They looked at us incredulously.
"Really? You do? Not just Old Town, but all of it?"
Amanda and I looked at each other and hesitantly replied, "Yes...why? Don't you?"
"No. I don't."
"Why not?"
"It's too big and dirty."
"Well then you'd better never go to New York."

After that the conversation was pretty much shot--we couldn't talk to them about their majors (they were medical students--Amanda and I are both very definitely in the humanities), my attempts to make jokes about how difficult Czech is to learn fell upon deaf ears, and we all waited anxiously for our food to come.

I looked longingly at the other tables while our silences stretched on for hours. It had gotten to the point where it was more awkward to talk than it was to be silent, so we all quietly contemplated our cauliflower soup as we ate in silence.

Finally, the CIEE leader of the group told us that we had to move on to the museum we wanted to hit up before heading home, so we all packed up and walked across town to the museum. Inside the museum we had very little time because lunch had stretched on interminably. It was possibly the most painful two hours of my life. Well that's a lie. I'm sure I could think of some that would be more painful, but in recent (and recorded) memory, this is the most awkward, uncomfortable time I have spent. The museum, though, had a model of the town we were in. I heard one of the Czech people excitedly ask her new American friend, "Do you want to see where I live?" Compare this to the people Amanda and I were with--we all consciously avoided each other for the rest of the day.

In our defense, it wasn't completely our fault that our lunch was such an epic fail. We were not good at small talk, but neither were the Czechs. They were capable of speaking long sentences, but instead limited themselves to one or two word answers. We could have found better topics to discuss, though eventually Amanda and I just descended into talking about baseball (she's a Yankees fan, I'm, obviously, a Twins fan).

The real kick in the pants, though, came at the very end of our time in Hradec Kralove when we were waiting on the steps of the museum for the Pilsner van to come pick us up. Amanda and I stood together, our Czechs huddled together a few steps down from us, and all the other American-Czech groups were exchanging phone numbers and making plans to meet up. As soon as the van pulled up, Amanda and I were the first down the steps, and I said to our "friends" as we passed, "It was nice meeting you. Good luck being doctors!" and waved, and was in the van.

No matter what CIEE says, no matter what they call these people they set us up with, they cannot make me be friends with these people. This is not necessarily a conscious decision, but is instead something that comes about from my general incompetence.