“I'm going to fight it, but I'll let it live.”

It's been a while since I've updated, mostly because life happened. I started my new job, acquired a new apartment, and basically quit comedy for the time being because those last two things haven't allowed me to travel or know my schedule anymore than two weeks in advance. Maybe I haven't updated because things have plateaued and there haven't been these urgent, bureaucratic developments to report on as the race to a two-year visa is over. I didn't win and I didn't lose the race, but holy fuck did it take a while.

I worked at Comcast in 2012 and 2013 in the company's last departmental resort to retain customers commonly referred to as "Loyalty," but anyone who has worked in the telecommunications industry will know it as "Retention." Between disconnecting or downgrading services, I was sometimes the last point of contact for customers who hadn't been using their OnDemand services like they imagined, or they only watched three of the 450 unnecessary channels for which they paid. Half hostage negotiator and half sales rep, I convinced people to step away from the ledge with three free months of HBO or Cinemax. I didn't feel like I was getting paid enough to be yelled at every day after my training wage dropped from $18.57 an hour to $12, so on my 90th day, I didn't come in. It took a week for them to call me. Since the turn over rate was so high in the "future of awesome," keeping track of employees was an afterthought.

I'm now in a similar situation in Brno. I'm training to be a manager in a call center alongside two others in Bratislava and Kosice, Slovakia. The technical support world is drastically different than that the sad sap, desperate world of retention. With technical support, people actually want their issues solved. With retention, people want to eliminate those issues completely. I went from bargaining to sleuth-like maintenance for customers who mostly live south of the Mason-Dixon line. Their accents are difficult for Czech people to decipher, and the Czech accent is quickly grouped into the generic Slav language pool by those who think communism is still a danger to society. Some of my Czech coworkers even had to change their Moravian sounding names to something more American, like from Djanna to Jane in order to woo the customer into thinking we're all on the same team.

For the last four weeks, I've been in training during the day and I'm now working second shift to align with US business hours. The six to nine hour time difference means no more early mornings as I'm doing my best to help the guy who mowed his lawn ("cutting his grass" as I explained to my Czech colleagues) and subsequently ran over his telephone line, or the woman who is convinced her modem would regain life by unplugging the power cord and leaving it unplugged. As much as I make fun of the southern accent and accompanying etiquette, it's nice to speak with Americans. I'm able to use the entire catalog of my vocabulary and not just the universal basics. One guy even told me he was glad I wasn't from India. I politely explained that our company is multi-national and we employ people with many different ethnicities and backgrounds. He told me, "I like the way you put that." I work with people from Egypt, Israel, Mozambique, Mexico, Ireland, Bosnia and Herzegovina, South Africa, Ghana, Turkey, Greece, and Zambia. Sometimes I feel guilty having the easy calls with even easier communication, but I hope my vernacular can rub off professionally.

Between eating an apple with some crackers for lunch and taking phone calls from properties which used to be plantations, I started looking for another apartment in Brno. I love the place where I am but it's very big for a small town (no one here knows where Seattle is) girl with her cat. I'm basically in a two-story townhouse. The size would be appropriate for a couple or someone whose best friend is always passed out drunk on their couch, but I don't fall into either of those categories. My kingsize bed is just a giant shelf where some of my stuff now stays because it's mathematically impossible for me to reach. I don't have any of my own furniture except for a nightstand. The flat came furnished with a glass chrome coffee table and boxy cream leather couches. It's like the Czech version of Weekend at Bernie's except there's less blow.

The new place I found is three blocks away from me in Kralovo Pole. It's on the fifth floor (technically sixth floor according to Europeans) with no elevator so my legs are about to get...and I think I'm using this right, "swole"? I'm on the very top of a yellow building with a red roof. The tram is about fifty yards away and I have a vecerka mini-mart across the street. It's sunny with windows in my slanted ceilings and it comes with a washing machine, a nook for a full-size bed, and an outdated wardrobe I'm going to call "Spare-Oom." I like it because it's small, not super small in the sense that I would need to disguise its size with the word "cozy." It will be unique to me with my own items and furniture not unique to a Czech cocaine dealer. The transitional housing I've been in was great as a jumping off point, but I need something that's mine. I'm justifying the continuation of my selfishness because I'm the only human I'm invested in taking care of right now. That's why I'm here in the first place. Also my new apartment is almost half of what I'm paying now so I'm feeling pretty good about it. A common thing for foreigners to experience here is being ripped off by landlords as soon as they discover their potential tenants aren't Czech. I was turned away from multiple apartment listings once they found out I wasn't Czech and that I was clearly writing my emails using Google Translate. But eventually I found a place where I can thrive alone and I move in September 1.

Last month I was lucky to have some traveling sober friends in town. We went to the oldest restaurant in Brno for a traditional Czech meal, caught up on program-related aspirations and developments, and discussed current and past travels through Europe. It was fun poorly translating in restaurants and shops, digging through Czech thrift stores for outdated fashion and even further outdated fashion, and not having to worry about the overindulgence of alcohol. My friend brought up that I should get a Czech Big Book (Modry Kniha, or "Blue Book" in CZ) so I could learn the language better since the AA verbiage is the same in every language. The next week I went to the one Czech AA meeting in Brno. I brokenly told the group of five I had moved here from the US and I used to work as a teacher but now I'm working in Bohunice. I told them I haven't had a drink in over three years and where I live, about kitty and my family back home. My Czech is still very "white" as in it's broke and is probably doing more harm than good, but I was able to use the language effectively to find the small sober community here. Due to working second shift temporarily, I haven't been able to attend and I found out there are no English-speaking meetings in Brno, so while I feel isolated, having two sober friends come visit further made me acknowledge I made the right choice. I couldn't do what I'm doing today if I had kept drinking. To be blunt, I'd probably be dead.

In regards to my non-hypothetical health, I'm doing much better than I was back in April. My diabetologist doesn't give me any shit and he trusts me to take care of myself and manage my dosages. He was able to order me the appropriate amount of test strips I need per month and SURPRISE I didn't have to cry on the phone to my insurance, endocrinologist's office, or the pharmacy. Trying to get my health straight in the US was like playing medical Three Card Monte every few months while the institutions play this circular blame game of finding the designated person to help me. Pharmacy says I need to talk to my doctor, doctor says I need to talk to my insurance company, insurance company says I need to talk to my pharmacist. If I need any prescriptions in CZ, I email my diabetologist, I pick up the slip, take it to the pharmacy, and they give it to me on the spot, no questions asked. Insulin only has a 30 day shelf life if it hits room temperature so moving a large supply by public transport can be tricky. Every time I pick up insulin, I also buy frozen veggies and berries to keep it cool on the sometimes 40 minute ride home. That's honestly the worst part about all of this. I'm sure there are easier ways to do it but I like making things hard on myself.

My dad told me about a story that was on NBC Nightly News last week about "black market insulin," something I was partaking in before I left last fall. Because the cost of insulin has risen over 1000% since 2006, the diabetic community has taken to Facebook and Reddit in order to seek advice and supplies that aren't prescribed by a doctor, which fortunately isn't illegal. One of the stupid things about diabetes is that we have to get refills for something we're going to have for life. Countries with universal healthcare sometimes give diabetic patients a pharmacy card that they simply show to the pharmacist to get the drugs and supplies they need to stay alive.

Alas in the United States, diabetic patients are turning to GoFundMe as their health insurance provider because the pharmaceutical industry knows we have to pay for insulin and going without is not an option. A guy in Minnesota aged out of his mom's health insurance plan at the age of 27 and struggled to pay for his insulin. He didn't meet his fundraising goal and he died. Other stories include diabetics rationing their insulin and up to 25% of people with the disease admit to cutting back because of the rising costs. Doing so can lead to blindness, kidney issues, severe nerve damage, liver failure, and DKA, the point where your body can no longer handle the excess glucose in your system and starts shutting itself down. Some people say I overreacted. Between a bad break up, losing my job, and having the repeal of Obamacare pass in the House, I couldn't stay in the US anymore. That entire day scared the shit out of me. No one believed it would happen. And it did. That wasn't a risk I was willing to take. 

Fuck this guy.

Last week I went to buy some frozen food before picking up my insulin and I paid $6 for a $2,300 supply. I had wanted to live abroad for years and now was the opportunity, not for my life but also literally for my life.

It took ten months to the day, but I finally have my job, my kitty, and my apartment. I'm excited to have my own blank canvas and not have to share any of my square meters with a roommate. I'm going to build ledges in the skylights so kitty can have a place to perch and modify a bureau that's unique to me and no one else. It took forfuckingever but it's finally coming together. It's been exhausting trying to relax. I can't wait to get back to the point where I can stop caring. You know, in a healthy way.

"YEAH, YOU'D THINK."

I don't even know where to start because a lot has happened but also nothing has happened at all. This is my first entry for all of June because, like I said, nothing has really happened worth noting.

Czech bureaucracy has worn me down to the point of tears. The immigration and employment processes seemed fairly streamlined and straightforward when viewed on a website. But when you're having to go from one brutalist building to another to ensure the concrete ship is being ran tightly while being forced to hand over the wheel to someone else, it can become extremely discouraging. 

To be more specific, I'm having to do a lot of the work myself. You might be thinking "oh poor you, Liz. You LIVE in Europe, how can that be so complicated and exhausting?" Because I can't trust anything anyone tells me. Usually when you speak with someone directly from the government, you have some some faith that you're being told an official, correct answer. Between the information I get from the Ministry of Interior, my new job, their respective websites, and the faceless person who may or may not communicate effectively with me via email, something is always left out, I receive four different answers to the same question, or I get information too late that would have been much helpful at an earlier point. As a result, this poorly oiled stroj has made any attempt at planning ahead, organizing a schedule, or getting any kind of clear answer to do so next to impossible. 

Here's a "quick" timeline of 2018 so far:

January 27:

Got hired at new job pretty much immediately. Woohoo! This means applying for an employee card, a two year "visa" that allows me to legally work for a business in the Czech Republic as opposed to using my trade license and a long-stay visa through a term of one year.

January 27 through March 27:

Gather certified documents, translations, and degrees to apply for employee card. I find out my start date at work is April 23.

March 23:

I give notice at my teaching job as I must notify my employer more than 60 days out if I have the intention of leaving my position.

April 9:

Apply for employee card at Ministry of Interior. I'm told this process should take six weeks. I pay an administration fee of 1500 crowns but I have to use government issued stamps as, I quote, "bribes are still a problem here."

April 23:

I'm pushed back at my job until May 14 as my employee card is still processing. I get a letter from the Ministry of Interior saying I need to come in with a certified Czech translator for an interview on May 10.

May 10:

My interview with the Ministry of Interior is centered around me switching from my trade license to an employee card. A ton of questions ensue about my assets in the Czech Republic, how I spend my time freelancing, why I will no longer be teaching at an accredited institution, and why I applied for the job. 90 minutes later, they tell me I could be approved as soon as Monday or by the end of the following week.

May 11:

My last day at my teaching job. I quit at this time because I was under the impression I would be working that Monday.

May 14:

I'm not approved and my start date at my job is pushed back to June 11. 

May 17:

Receive a phone call from the Ministry of Interior my application for an employee card was approved. I'm told I'll receive an official copy in the mail within ten days so I can formally confirm with my employer. I am given a date, June 27, to come into the Ministry of Interior for biometric data to be included on my employee card, 13 days after my supposed start date. The person who calls me tells me I can start work even if I don't have the card in hand.

May 22:

Because my employer wants to conduct a medical check, as in an exam making sure I can actually do the job I was hired to do, I meet with a doctor who doesn't know me. He determines that because I have Type 1 diabetes, I might be a risky hire. I'm given a test tube to pee into as I have to provide my own sample (or anyone's) and meet with another doctor assigned to my employer on May 24. 

May 24:

The second doctor doesn't ask for my urine sample. I record this conversation as I have now learned I can't trust what anyone tells me. She agrees that I might be a risky hire because I have Type 1 as well as depression. My case is sent over to a board of directors in Prague to review and my endocrinologist is called to confirm my diabetes is being successfully managed and I have zero complications as a result. She doesn't ask for my urine test and I then realize I basically could have lied about the whole thing because no one was going to bother to check or follow up with me. She then stammers with me for ten minutes while I ask her what is it exactly about my disease that prevents me from working my job. I leave with no answer.

June 1:

My medical check is approved but I haven't received any information in the mail that I can show my employer I can start work on June 11. 

June 11:

I don't start my job. Turns out I can't work unless I have the actual card printed and in my hand.

June 12:

My employer pushes me back until July 23. My employer tells me there might be a possibility I can start on July 16, but no one confirms this. 

June 27:

I go to the Ministry of Interior to get my picture taken and get fingerprinted for my employee card. I am told I can pick up the card on Tuesday, July 17. I notify my employer my card will be ready to pick up on said date.

June 28:

My employer tells me I can start on July 16, but they can't tell me if I can work without the physical card in hand or if I am able to take time in the middle of the following day to pick up the card. I sit in bed and write this post. As of yesterday, this has now taken six months.

The Czech Republic is a weird place. In some areas you'd think it would be incredibly advanced but in other areas, it doesn't add up. The main example I use is with our debit cards. Across CZ we can use a "contactless card," meaning I no longer have to swipe it and I can just tap the card on a receiver and my purchase goes through. Not a lot of banks have instituted this technology in the United States so it's kind of a one up. 

However, the main branch of my bank is in central Brno, and if I want to take money out or deposit money, I have to pick a number like it's the fucking DMV and wait until I'm called to then tell a real person how much money I want to deposit or withdraw. So the technology is great...but the automated system overall is not updated or consistent.

The major thing I have learned in the past nine months since I've been here is that expecting all of the bureaucracy to go seamlessly is ridiculous. The first tip I should have noticed this at is that for me to apply for a visa in the Czech Republic, I had to go to Berlin, Warsaw, Vienna, or Bratislava. I had to leave the country to apply to stay in the country which I came from. I thought it would be...easy.

Not only has the process been long, annoying, and every level of frustrating, it's been emotionally taxing. Because of the delays in my job, I had to back out of Edinburgh Fringe as I thought I'd be able to take time off in August if I had started on time. I lost my deposit I put towards a bed in a shared flat and my flight didn't get refunded. Overall I lost about $500 on this, money I could have put towards a deposit on a new flat or used for airfare to fly home and visit. There were times where I thought I could have gone home for a week, but because I couldn't trust any of the information being told to me, I couldn't risk being out of the country during a time where something might change...again. This process has affected my stand up, my family time, my creative drive, and my determination to be a real person.

My main "character defect" is patience, as AA told me. I don't have it. I don't know what to do with it when I do have it. I absolutely hate not having the answers to questions I have. My dad told me a story a few weeks ago where he was watching me when I was about age 2. He took these magnetic alphabet letters we had off the fridge and put them in front of me to spell different basic words. My dad would put the word out in front of me and say "cat!" while he'd point to Jake or Elwood, named after the Blues Brothers. I picked it up fairly quickly, but once the letters were scrambled, I didn't do well. He put the word "cat" with the letters out of order in front of me. I was getting agitated because I knew all the letters were there but I didn't know what to do to make it say "cat." I became inconsolable, crying and saddened, a two-year-old only wanting the answer that couldn't be given to me.

I've been too depressed and angry to write this post and part of me didn't want to let everyone know how I was doing. A lot of the complications are hard to explain to someone who hasn't gone through it themselves. For six months I've been trying to create some semblance of a schedule or routine, but I haven't had that. I sleep from 3am until 3pm. I've watched a lot of sitcoms and my YouTube history is full of conspiracy-related time holes. I try to do one thing a day, whether that's a load of laundry or checking. I cried myself to sleep last night because I really don't want that much: I just want my tiny apartment, my cat, and my job. 

I've been looking at other flats because the one I'm in now is excessive and I'm paying for a lot of space I don't use. I went to look at a place in a panelak, a panel style building constructed in the former Czechoslovakia, and I fell in love with it. On the top floor with no one living above me, the windows looked out over the hillsides and industry of the city. I had a deck with windows that could be pulled aside in the summer for fresh air. The bathroom was brightly lit and there was sample storage space for the items I don't have. The kitchen was pristine but not sterile. With two major tram lines and five major bus routes at the bottom of the building, I'd have easy access to the job I have yet to work and the rest of the city, but being up thirteen stories, you couldn't hear anything and it was reassuringly quiet.

The weather has been cold and 50ish. It rained all night so when my hometown weather is upon me, I use it as an excuse to not go out. "Well at least I'm not spending any money!" I think to myself as I restart Brooklyn 99 and eat a tortilla for dinner. I cried myself to sleep last night because I honestly thought it wouldn't be this hard. I've put in the effort, made appointments, showed up on time, filled out the right forms, certified and translated all my documents correctly, followed up with phone calls and emails, and I still feel like I failed. Why is it that the Czech system is so backwards but I'm the one who feels like she failed? I don't want to sit here and be like "Yeah man the system, man...it's just the system out to get us" but really I don't think people realize how much easier these processes could be. I'm definitely spoiled coming from the US, but you'd think some changes would be implemented given that so many immigrants and foreigners are going through these exact same steps just to get a well paying job in a different country on a daily basis. At what point is it not worth it anymore?

And the worst part of all of this: the United States is so fucked up right now, I feel like I can't go home, even if I wanted to. Do I try to do best with the cards given to me in CZ or do I risk not having access to certain human facets at home? Do I have a home right now? I feel like I can't go home. 

A lot of this is me simply rambling but I'm realizing it's a pretty accurate example of the state I'm currently in: I'm lost with no organized timeline and I can't trust anyone. 

Dancing with St. Vitus

I feel like these updates are lacking the crescendo they used to have. Ever since I got my visa, things have quieted down quite a bit and I haven't been the busy bee I was when I arrived. Now I have a completely different agenda to more or less accomplish the same thing: achieve the correct paperwork and navigate the bureaucratic system for the right to legally work in the Czech Republic. I'm definitely on an expat plateau. Explateau? Whatever. 

The teaching job I've held since the beginning of this year has become wildly unpredictable. Usually when you imagine a teacher, you imagine someone who has the same hours as their students, maybe from 8 to 3ish in the afternoon. But language schools have to operate around life's other obligations, which are mainly work and family. There's no set schedule and sometimes students will schedule classes as they would with a therapist. Both receptionist and student have their pocketbooks out, flipping through dates to find a time in the future to conjugate verbs while still having fun. So this style of schedule leaves me to have no schedule of my own. Sometimes I work an hour in the morning and then six hours later I return to teach two courses in the evening. Other times I work from 2-8pm with no break. I don't have enough time to eat a meal or even a snack. I check my blood sugar in the middle of class because my schedule doesn't leave me time to sit down and actually pay attention to the inner workings (or non inner workings) of my dead pancreas. The limited and spontaneous availability I have has left me rescheduling appointments, not knowing if I can take gigs in other countries (it sounds drastic but it's like 60 miles away), and trying to create somewhat of a normal sleep schedule, which I've been chasing after for at least two decades. I don't have time for me and it's fucking exhausting.

Back in January, I interviewed for a manager position at AT&T. Yep, that AT&T. The telecommunications company has offices in both Brno and Bratislava, Slovakia, quite the surprise to someone who used to work at Comcast and thought positions with these places were limited to cubefarms in American metropolitan suburbs. The "interview" started with a group of roughly 30 bilingual people who were all interested in becoming a technical support specialist for the internet service AT&T offers to certain parts of the US. A few people had luggage with them as if they had come straight from the airport or train station, and I soon found out they actually had. A team lead told us to introduce ourselves, where we're from, and why we're interested in the job that requires English speakers B2 and above. Mostly everyone was Czech with a few people who actually flew in from France and Germany for the interview. It sounds ridiculous but when you think about it, flying anywhere in Europe doesn't take that long so they might as well attend an interview for a job in a country with a lower cost of living. Simply by the introductions, it was clear which candidates would be able to function in a job like tech support. When the pleasantries got all the way around to me, I realized I was the only native English speaker who had worked at a telecommunications giant. A lot of people stared at me. Why is this woman interviewing for a job she easily could have had in the United States?

To make sure we were actually capable of reading, writing, and speaking English, the team lead administered a test based on reading and listening. With twenty questions for each category, I found myself struggling with the most basic of knowledge. For instance, one of the questions involved listening to a woman describe a vacation to a beach, and we had to pick only one word to describe her experience. However, many options for the answer were synonyms. Casual, relaxed, breezy, low-key, and a few others were choices to choose from. But what exactly are they looking for? It wasn't the language that was throwing me off; it was the psychological mind games I needed to play in order to beat out non-native speakers for the same job. After everyone was finished, we were released for an hour and I did what any white girl with time to kill on her hands would do: go to Starbucks. 

The AT&T campus in Brno is located in a suburb known as Bohunice (BOH-hoo-nitz-uhh). There's a large sprawling mall and numerous medical facilities throughout the area of new commerce, and even though there's many plastic new shiny buildings out there, my favorite communism-looking building is right in the center of all of it. White with rails, simple windows, and a few panes of frosted broken glass, the medical center was a staple of what used to be sterile brutalism before 1989. I took some pictures and ordered a decaf latte in very poor Czech and waited for my pre-determined future at a new job with an actual schedule. 

When I returned from my hour alone, almost half of the candidates weren't to be found. Our team lead explained that those who hadn't passed the language test were dismissed from the rest of the interview. A few people looked at me as if I had something to do with their demise, but really I think they weren't surprised I passed, like a "good thing she survived" sort of a look. As a group, we were led into a lobby and then told to wait for an individual one-on-one interview with a manager. The woman I met had originally expatriated from the Philippines and married her Czech husband here in Brno. She looked at the experience I had listed from my CV and explained I was hired before I was even walked in that day. I spoke with her about submitting for the management position and she explained that once I complete the basic training and because of my native language, I can be transferred into the position. I also found out that being a native speaker was getting me about 15% more pay than the rest of the candidates who either had no technical support experience or mediocre English skills. 

What I'm most excited about is I'll be working at night for open business hours in the US. My shift will be from 11-8am so I can communicate with AT&T's customer base no matter which timezone they're in. Supposedly I'm also making more salary because the job is solely based at night. Night is when I'm most active. I'm writing this post at night, I have my best stupid ideas at night, and I try to at least learn something every night before bed. I can now offer my best potential on a Monday through Friday job. I never honestly thought I'd say "I want normal hours and zero unpredictability" but there I was interviewing for exactly that. The pay will be stable and the work will be familiar. 

In the coming weeks, I'll be filing for an employee card, which operates as its own visa. Right now, my trade license and my long stay visa both rely on each other for me to stay in the country and earn a living. But with AT&T, I'll be cleared by the Czech government to have an actual employer. The employee card needs to be renewed every two years, and I won't have to verify my funds with the government every year as they how much and when AT&T is paying me. They'll also provide my health insurance so it'll be included through my work and I'll no longer be on the socialized state system. Honestly the job can't start soon enough. Right now I'm in limbo between filing documents and waiting for my start date in May with no forward nor backwards progress and so we wait here on the plateau. 

The cool part about starting my job next month was that my mom and I both had the availability for her to come visit me for ten days. She's retiring in about ten months and she's looking forward to having the freedom to travel and spend time with family, meaning she has some vacation to burn through by the end of the year.

I was incredibly giddy the entire day. This was the first time anyone from the States had seen me in my new environment and I made sure to have things in a very presentable HGTV fashion. I literally cleaned my floors on my hands and knees, I dusted, vacuumed little nooks previously overlooked, and made myself into a real person who looks like they have the gumption and dedication to complete such a task, someone who really has their shit together. The last time I had been to the Prague airport was arriving on October 18th, almost six months ago now. It's is incredibly clean and almost looks like a convention center with giant cylindrical pillars and signs pointing to various amenities. They even had one of those ridiculously sized chess sets that you can play on the floor. And their bathroom was free. 

While I was on the train to Prague to pick her up, she was transferring in Frankfurt. Frankfurt, we both agreed, is the most absurd of European airports. Half-mall and half-travel checkpoint, it's an incredibly expansive place, leaving no room for tight connections. When I came over I also transferred in Frankfurt with a 90 minute connection and it was real tight, but my mom had some extra time to peruse duty-free whathaveyous and the vast plains of moving walkways. 

I toodled around in Arrivals with other people waiting for their respective passengers. The Prague Airport is divided into two terminals, flights from within the Schengen area and international flights from outside the Schengen. Since Frankfurt is Schengen, the hour long flight arrived on time. I watched the status on the arrival board of her plane, "Landed," Unloading," "Baggage." Spurts of passengers came out from behind the secure and opaque screen of customs a little at a time. Every little group I got excited and positioned myself unobstructed to be sure she could see me. At last she appeared with a tote and luggage. She looked so small next to everything she had packed for ten days of sightseeing in the Czech Republic. She looked tired, amazed. Everyone in my family is an experienced traveler but my mom had yet to see the former Czechoslovakia, and I felt settled in enough at this point to be somewhat of a reliable tour guide during her time here. 

We hugged for a long time. She's roughly my same height so our embrace with no intention of releasing seemed more reciprocal. After getting a good look at one another after our different yet varied travels, we got the first of many lattes at the airport while we waited for the bus to return to the main train station. We had about six hours of travel ahead of us with a bus, train, and then a cab ride back to my place in Brno. Our first meal consisting of Burger King fueled us for the journey and we arrived back home to a very excited kitty. 

The four days my mom was here in Brno were spent Easter market shopping, closely akin to the Christmas markets but with a bit more paganism sprinkled in with the food, spiced wine, colorful eggs, decorated switches used to hit girls in return for eggs, and porcelain products unique to Moravia. A lot of our time was spent sleeping in and relaxing with no set schedule because we knew Prague was going to kill us. We were planning on doing some serious damage in regards to sightseeing while in the Bohemian capitol. I traveled through the Czech Republic in 2009 but was on a pretty strict budget so my sightseeing was limited to cheap beer and Pall Malls. But our stay in Brno was eventful. My mom met a few of my fellow teachers at the school and one of my closest friends, we went to a cat cafe because Patrick just wasn't enough, and took a cruise through Spilberk Castle, one of many located in CZ. 

Czech Easter eggs designed by Jiri Zemanek

Over the few days my mom was in Brno, I realized that she's getting older. And yes, I'm aware of this phenomenon known as aging, but she was different from the last I saw her when we were crying in the airport in Seattle. She's slowed down a bit, both with her memory and her speed. Sometimes she would have a tough time keeping up with me during her visit. I've always been self-conscious of my speed when I walk because I've now had two ex-boyfriends who were quite eager to comment on it. I'm hardly ever in a rush. I've also spent so much time alone in Brno that I'm never around anyone that often to feel self-conscious with. Spending time with my mom made me more hyper aware, not just of my actions, but hers, as well. 

And then I started feeling guilty. Occasionally this pang of guilt or regret strikes and I feel like I made the wrong choice by moving so far away. In this case, I felt bad because I'm not with my mom anymore. I can't help her as she's getting older. I'm not immediately available if she needs assistance, reminders, or pertinent information. Staying in touch with her has been easier than I assumed but I think my shock of seeing her after almost six months made me realize I might not be able to see her in a time of need. It's the same thing with my new niece, Emily. I haven't met her yet and she isn't cognizant of her auntie who lives across the pond. I'm losing the chance to see her grow up, and sometimes it mades me incredibly sad and alone. A lot of expats will experience this while abroad and start to rethink their decisions, that their choice to separate from family and friends both geographically and emotionally will negatively affect others. Prior to leaving, I told myself I'd return to the US only under a few different circumstances: a family member getting seriously ill or dying, a zombie apocalypse originating in Russia, or a court order. Seeing my mom in her now more limited capabilities made me wonder if I'd be moving back to the US sooner than I thought, or what it will be like to have aging parents so far away, especially as the only child in one circumstance. 

I noticed this for most of my mom's visit but it didn't slow us down. In Prague we went to the Prague Castle and St. Vitus Cathedral which has left me particularly awestruck over the last week. I'm not sure if it's the crazy gothic overtones or its age or the stained glass to which Mucha contributed, but to me it's this evil building that is tall, maniacal, ominous, and threatening. Not because of the religious curiosities tied to it, but the massive presence it gives to the Prague skyline. It's like in Independence Day when the alien ship slowly covers Washington DC except St. Vitus has graced Bohemia with its brooding presence for almost 1,000 years. 

My photos from St. Vitus

My mom also got to see me on stage while in Prague, and I'm really happy she got to see one of the best sets I've had since I've been here. I booked a spot on a weekly Tuesday showcase and found out at the last minute I was headlining. Vir Das, from Conan and fucking Netflix, was in town and asked for time but at the last minute had a scheduling conflict, so they asked me to fill in. Kind of cool, I'll probably use that as a credit from now on. The show takes place in a popular hostel and it's free for guests to attend, so the show often has a large audience whose common language is usually English. I met another comic from LA who was on the show and we discovered we had a lot of people in common between us, so it was fun to network so far from home. And my set went great. I couldn't have asked for a better slot or audience. The audience was engaged, paying attention, a little drunk but happy and focused. I'm so much more comfortable on stage than when I first arrived, nervous and anxious over material that worked so many times which might no longer have potential in a non-English speaking country. But I've adapted, and I think that's kind of what all this is about. 

My mom and I separated at the Prague train station where she took the bus to the airport and I a train back to Brno. I had to teach two classes after I arrived, one at a lighting company out in the suburbs and another at the school itself. The lighting company cancelled on me 40 minutes after I arrived due to some Chinese bigwig in town and I didn't have anyone show up for my second class. Of course, I get off the train and my world immediately becomes less predictable, less calculated. I have four days off for Easter as the Czechs observe Easter on Monday as well as Good Friday on, well, Friday. I've been nursing a sinus infection in the mean time and tomorrow I go into a 25 hour teaching week, and I'm sure I'll be dead when it's finished. Until then, I have some cheese to eat and a kitty to annoy.