czech 1, 2, 3, testing 1, 2, 3

hello again,

we struggled out of bed this morning only because the continental breakfast is so darn good, and they stop serving at 10. we got back from the show in Duchcov very late last night, due in large part to the condition of the roads. if i may give advice to the czechs for one brief moment i would say only two things: storm drains, and more signs that say "god-awful-dangerous-hairpin-curve ahead." but somehow we made it there and back intact, and none the worse for it. the show was a lot of fun, especially when the entire audience starting singing with me (in czech, natch) when i did "i can't help falling in love with you" (the elvis song). I wonder if Mr. Presley ever envisioned that song being performed by an American girl in a tiny town in the Czech Republic, and with the enthusiastic support of a boisterous Czech audience....

it occurred to me again yesterday that we use the word "check" in English far too often...as I was doing, well, sound check, and saying "check 1-2-3" into the microphone, people started to giggle...hmmm. time to find a new phrase, i suppose.

millions of pictures below and more coming - including sound files! thanks be to anne.
baci,
vanessa

the town of duchcov as we approach in a torrential downpour... 

czech countryside...before the storm... 

the appreciative czech audience who sang along to my elvis cover 

jakub and i rocking out at the U Slunce pub in Duchcov on Saturday night 

anne with her triumphant blueberry purchase...her teeth are turning purple just thinking about that half-liter of berries... 

this is the dog i want so badly!! they are called appenzellers...a breeding of st. bernard's and rottweilers....so cute!!!! and so expensive. :( and so unpractical for a touring musician... 

a view of Cesky Krumlov from the top of the tower 

some of the creepier puppet heads from the marionette museum.... i can't figure out how the turtle is relevant to the two heads, but that's okay. 

one of the many lovely parks in Plzen. note the Pilsner Urquell beer truck passing in the background. 

poster outside of the Hotel Continental 

zmrzlina, brusinka, and dr pepper!

hi everyone!

welcome to another edition of vanessa-and-anne in the land of the czechs. so much has happened in the last 2 or 3 days that i am already exhausted...and my extremely comfortable bed doesn't provide much inspiration to overcome my exhaustion either...neither does this slightly gray day, or the book i am reading, brick lane....all in all, it is a day for relaxing and staying in bed. that is what laptops are for!

where to begin? pictures will tell the stories better than i can, so hopefully we can get a few of them off the cameras and uploaded to the blog shortly. anne came in early on wednesday morning, and i walked through a still-sleeping plzen to find her at the train station. we spent wednesday walking the city, orienting ourselves amongst the myriad parks and monuments. the city is actually quite lovely, full of large grassy areas, manicured gardens, and tinkling fountains. i was marveling at the sheer number of parks and gardens when someone pointed out that most of the cities hit hard by WWII or local uprisings against communism have tons of parks, due to the fact that something had to put in to take the place of the buildings that were bombed out or demolished....hadn't really thought about it that way before....

after a day of seeing plzen and discovering both cranberry juice (brusinka) AND dr. pepper (two things i simply can't find in italy), we headed back to the hotel so that i could get ready for my first show. the superb jakub korinek is my touring partner during these few days that i am here, and he opened the show for me. he is a self-taught guitarist, blues-style, and one of the best that i have even seen - ranks up there with jeff lang from australia, for whom i opened last year. he is really, really talented - and only 25.

the show went really well. an incredibly kind man named george, and his wife nika, bought my CD after hearing sound check, and after the show he proceeded to nearly throw himself prostrate at my feet, thanking me for playing. he loves american folk/country, he said, and i think i made his week. when i told him i would be playing there again the following wednesday, he was nearly beside himself.

anne, on the other hand, was beseiged by two friendly (overly) czech folks who spoke czech and only a tiny bit of german...we speak english, french, and italian, and a bit of spanish...so 6 languages between us, and we couldn't communicate to save our souls. this didn't seem to bother them though...they ploughed on for 3 straight hours, talking and smiling and shaking their heads as though it was a pity we couldn't understand them, but what could you do? the show must go on....the man was rather drunk, and insisted on dancing with anne for the better portion of the evening, and after he bought 4 copies of my CD, he rewarded me with a big fat smacker on the lips. all in all a bit of a hair-raising siutation. they were really kind though, buying us food and drinks all night (i had to keep hiding my beer, because they wouldn't take no for an answer, but i don't drink beer, and therefore 2 beers were definitely beyond my ability to fake sipping it...) When it came time for us to leave, we weren't sure how to tell them that we needed to go to bed without offending them, but a stroke of marvelous luck from above brought an italian man and his czech wife over to our tables... italian poured out of my mouth, out of sheer relief and excitement....the czech couple looked at me like i was crazy, as i hadn't spoken all evening....but anyhow, between the 6 of us, we managed to convey the message that we had enjoyed ourselves, etc, but the time had come to be moving on....they seemed geniunely disappointed to see us go, though i can't imagine what possible pleasure they could have derived from the evening...

anyhow, we snuck away and off to bed, because we were planning on getting up super early to take a train to cesky krumlov, a charming little town about 3 hours from here. we made our train with time to spare (italian-style, it was running late), and when the conductor punched our ticket, he said something that sounded like autobus, but we had no idea, so we just smiled and nodded. then at some point, about an hour or two later, the train stopped in the middle of nowhere, and everyone started getting off...so we did too. everyone piled onto about 5 buses, and the buses drove through the czech countryside, which actually looks a good deal like east texas....and 15 minutes later, we were at another train station, so we all re-boarded the trains and took off again...a bit later our train arrived to the town where the original budweiser beer was invented, called cesky budujovic, and we had to change trains (rather, run for our train) again....this was the train that was headed to cesky krumlov, and the car we chose was full of elderly czechs, i suppose on some sort of organized outing... we were the youngest people in the carriage by 40 years, easily...then other stop, all the old folks off, and on with the young kiddies, a group of 5 or 6 year olds on an outing with a couple of harried teachers in tow.... all in all it was 3 hours full of surprises and funny smells...the smells of trains, of buses, of sausage, of 20 sweaty little kids crammed into a train car...

anyhow, czeky krumlov was worth the madness. it is a lovely little town, UNESCO-protected, lodged in the middle of green hills and basically surrounded, island-like, by a river that flows around and through the center of town... we climbed to the top of the magnificent castle, whose moat is protected by bears, and got an incredible view of the town... we ate like kings for 500 kroner, which is about $20...we had potato dumplings, all kinds of meat dishes, sauerkraut, spiced mead, and dumplings in blueberry sauce for dessert... so good... and with our teeth purple, we marched back out into the sunny day. we visited the marionette museum, which had a kind if super-strange curator, who seemed to be in love with each individual puppet...they seemed to be real people to her, so concerned she was with the individual well-being of each of them... Later that afternoon, we had coffee on the banks of the river and watched all the rafters and canoers go by.... quite a lovely day, actually. the only blight on the day occurred on the way home...struck by one of my famous hunger attacks (those of you who know me well know that when i am hungry, rationale goes by the wayside quickly), i made the shameful decision to eat at.... mcdonald's. yes, it is true. i have to say though, it was good, if not great. my only regret was not trying the McZorba, a greek hamburger made with feta and cucumbers....

anyhow, we slept in yesterday, exhausted from our day of catching trains and clogging our arteries. George Janacek, a Czech-American who owns the hotel where we are staying, took me around running errands yesterday, helping me buy stamps at the post office. This hotel is a landmark in Plzen and has been in his family for 100 years…his parents escaped to America just before the end of WWII, and had to wait until the Velvet Revolution in 1989, when Communism crumbled here, before returning to reclaim it. It had undergone extensive renovations and is lovely – if you are ever planning a trip to the Czech Republic, check out http://www.hotelcontinental.cz/

Yesterday I had a show in Most, a town about 100 km north of Plzen. Jakub, Anne and I went by car, and guess who drove? Jakub doesn’t have a license, so it fell to me. Driving in a Toyota Corolla through the Czech countryside…who would have thought? We pulled over at one point to buy fresh blueberries from a woman selling them on the side of the road…her mouth and teeth were purple, so I guess whatever she doesn’t sell, she eats….but 30 kr later (a little more than a dollar), and Anne had half a liter of blueberries to munch on to her heart’s content.

The show was fantastic. The pub is tiny tiny…holds 40 people uncomfortably, and there were at least that many there. The audience was superb though – dead silent and attentive. I always find it fascinating when foreign audiences listen so closely, because it means they find something worthwhile in the guitar or vocal melody, because it certainly isn’t the lyrics they were listening to…no one there really spoke English, at least not enough to follow what I was saying.

Today we are going to the Plzen Zoo and then to Duchcov tonight for another show, and then Monday I go into the studio with Jakub to record a song for a compilation CD he is working on...should be fun. Thanks to all of you who have been buying Thin Thread...cross your fingers that I make it into the top 100 sellers...

dobry den,
vanessa

safe in the land of people who look like me

dobrý den vespolek!
no, i swear i am not calling you all names. according my czech dictionary, that means hello everybody. but i have to take their word for it.

I left Castiglion on the 4.23 train this morning and 10 hours later i found myself here, in Plzen (Pilsen), home of Pilsner beer. I am staying for these two weeks at the Hotel Continental, where they are treating me like royalty. The town is beautiful - reminds me of Stuttgart, which is where I was a year ago today, in fact. I just wish that Czech wasn't such a frightening language to me. Slavic and Germanic languages just completely freak me out. All of these consonants in strange places and funny little hats on tops of the letters to boot. Take, for example, the word for goodbye - na shledanou! Huh? Now, according to my Czech cheat sheet, every letter is pronounced as it is written, and as long as I remember that, I should have no problems being understood. Easy for them to say - I don't even have a clue as to where to begin with that one...

Kuba, one of the hotel employees, came to pick me up at the Prague airport. He speaks German and Czech and I, well, don't, so you can imagine that we had little to chat about. After trying to learn hello, goodbye, please, and thank you (ahoj, na shledanou, prosím, děkuji), I was exhausted. Kuba, trying to comfort me with a big smile on his kind face, said, "and PIVO is beer!" And that was the end of our conversation. They love their beer.

Plus the money is fun, a throwback for me to the Italian lire. 30 kč (kroner, or crowns) is about one dollar, so these 2400 kroner I am carrying around are making me feel like the princess they are treating me as at Hotel Continental...

It has been a long time since I traveled in a totally foreign environment. Being pretty much fluent in Italian means I get around with ease. Last year in Germany I found plenty of English speakers, and of course I had my great hosts, Dirk and Wolfgang, who translated for me when I was lost. French and Spanish I can stumble through enough to understand, because they aren't so different from Italian...but Czech. Wow. I ordered lunch (a doner kebab!!) all in hand signals and with a goofy, apologetic smile painted on my face.

One thing though - at least I don't stick out physically like I do in Italy. I guess all of those little Slavic towns in Texas left their mark on me genetically, because I blend here! As long as I smile and don't open my mouth, there's no reason I can't pass for your favorite Czech gal.

Okay, shows start tomorrow. Off to rest. I have a long day of mastering foreign sounds and eating kolaches ahead of me tomorrow....
spokojený s málem (thankful for small mercies, like my plane touching down safely),
vanessa

manners, anyone?

aloha,

i wanted to wait until i cooled down a bit before posting this, just to see if i really was mad. and yep, i checked. i really am mad. though less mad with the days that pass, because really, what good does it do to harbor anger if already tend to be a type-A personality in the first place? :)

so the story goes like this. i was working up at lignano two nights ago (background: my friends run a restaurant up in the mountains nearby, in a city park called lignano. i am helping out on the busy nights until i leave for the czech republic). it was a really, really busy night, as the city was putting on a festival for the night of san lorenzo, the night of the falling stars (when supposedly you can see tons of them, but sadly for us, it was overcast the whole night).

amanda and i were waiting tables, and the place was packed. however, we were all in good spirits and everything was moving along swimmingly. i was helping a table of 4 brits and an italian, and we struck up a conversation. they wanted to know why i was in italy, and when i explained that i was a musician, they asked me to give them a concert at their table. i joked and smiled and said i couldn't because i didn't have my guitar but that maybe they could catch me in london, where i am/was planning a tour in october. the only guy in the group kept pressing me, but i was slammed with 1000 other tables and i told them i was sorry, but i just didn't have time right now. he sniffed a bit and said, "we heard that people from texas are supposed to be nice. you're not so nice, are you?"

okay, so maybe he was just being sarcastic, the famous dry british humor. so i smiled and laughed it off, returning to work. everytime i passed the table, they bugged me about doing a concert. so finally i went inside and grabbed lignano's copy of Thin Thread off of the cd rack and took it out to them.

"look," i said. "i really don't have time to sing for you guys right now, but if you want to hear what i do, here's a copy of the disc. you can take it over there to the dj (i pointed) and ask him to play a bit of it. he's a friend of mine, he'll do it if you ask."

so this is where i get pissed.

the guy says, "how about if i just take this copy home and make a copy of it and bring it back to you tomorrow?"

laughing, i said, "actually, how about not?"
"why not?" he says. "everyone does it."
i am starting to get angry. "why not? because that's how i make my living," i said. "that is my job."
"oh, come on," he said. "you're in italy where everyone steals everything." okay, starting to get really pissed now. "what does it matter to you if i make a copy of it?" he is sneering and i want to slap him.

"look," i said. "you can take it over there and listen to a few tracks, or you can give it back to me and i'll bring you guys the bill. i am sorry, but you can't copy it. that is copyrighted material, and that would be stealing."

more sneering. "look, vanessa," he says, "i am a photographer. you think people don't make copies of my photos and steal them all the time? you should get over it."

"exactly my point," i said. "you should know i feel. i could let everyone steal the CD, but then I would be doing odd jobs during the day and playing music at night for the rest of my life, and that's not what I want. I am sorry; this discussion is closed. please hand me the CD."
"no, no, I'll go listen at the DJ stand."

fine, I say. I force a smile, I go inside, continue working. Every so often, i poke my head into that section of the restaurant to make sure they are still there. at some point, the italian girl and another british girl leave, but the CD is still on the table with this jerk. I never hear it playing through the DJ system.

Some amount of time later, I notice they are gone. The table is cleared and the CD isn't there. I run outside and just catch a glimpse of them headed down the mountain path. I run after them.

"hey, wait!" i said. "where's the CD?"
more smirking. "don't have it," he says. "my italian friend took it with her when she left to make a copy at home."
but i can see it, barely, under the jacket he has draped over his arm.
"Liar," i all but snarl. "I can see it under your jacket. Give it to me, now."
This guy really had the sneer down to a fine art.
"Oh, give it a rest," he said. "What's the big f-in deal?" And he throws me the disk, which I catch in mid-air.
"Why would you just steal it?" I asked, shocked. "That's a really bastard thing to do."
"Grow up," he says. "Why would I buy it, when it probably isn't worth what it's printed on?"
"Then why even bother copying it?" I say, ice in my voice.
He has nothing to say. He just laughs, not even embarrassed to be caught stealing, and starts to walk away. I am so filled with rage that I am beside myself. I was so nice to these people, bringing them free chocolate chip cookies (I had made them for the staff that night), giving them travel advice when they asked, and though I refused to sing at their table, I did so in a polite and joking manner. Who knows, maybe the guy was drunk on red wine. But you just can't steal something from someone, right? And you sure as hell can't justify it by telling me to "grow up." What the hell???

All of this to say this: I have had random people, upon finding out I am a musician, say something like, "oh, cool, can I make a copy of your CD?" By now it is ingrained in our culture - ooh, free music. But usually when I explain that's my job, and that's how I make my living, the light comes on and they say, gee, I never thought about it that way. Sorry I asked. How much are the CDs?" And they buy one or they don't. But I have never had anyone treat me that way before, as though I wasn't worth his 10 euro, or even his politeness. It was kind of shocking.

be kind to the musicians you meet - to anyone you meet who is working lots of odd jobs to support doing the thing they love to do. everyone has to start somewhere. i don't harbor delusions that people will say, "ooh, vanessa peters, she waited on our table in a small town in italy once." but that doesn't mean you can steal my cd, dammit, just because to you i am an unknown singer/songwriter bringing you cookies. sheesh.

okay, off the soapbox now. :)
calmer, more-italy-oriented post coming soon shortly,
vanessa

gumo, also, too-cool-for-school. at a gas pump, nonetheless. 

manuel playing the part of the cranky-cool-guy-guitarist. note our favorite landmark in the background. 

part 1 of a series of photos taken at one of many autogrill stops along the way...road-weary and just wanting to follow the arrows that pointed home... 

Here we are at the festival in Brescia. This was Juri's first concert with us in a long time and it was great to have him on stage with us again.