So much to say, and I've forgotten it all!

This is so aggravating. I have been thinking of quite a few things that I want to share with you all via my blog. But as soon as I get on the internet, I forget them all!

Ok, I'll try to remember.

Another thing that's fairly weird here in Prague is the fact that cars regularly drive down the sidewalk. It's slightly unnerving to find cars where you are expecting to blithely walk home. It helps that the cars are, on the average, quite a bit smaller than cars back home. It's easy to spot vehicles that aren't originally from here, or that weren't designed for this city. Those cars stick out like a sore thumb because they're huge. They are taller and longer than all the other cars.
But one advantage of learning to drive here in Prague is that you learn to parallel park like the angels must. There is rarely more than four inches between the bumpers of parallel parked cars here. I saw one truck that was parked between two concrete buttresses, with about two inches between each bumper and the concrete. No joke, it was for straight up real. Amazing.

Matt and Bethany Harris joined me yesterday (Sunday) evening playing sports with some guys and gals from the church we go to. Usually we play floorball (floor hockey, really) most of the time, and finish with a game of basketball. (Have I mentioned how awful most Czechs are at basketball?) Well, since the guy who has the key to the closet was gone, we just played basketball. The first game we had all the native English speakers together, against all the native Czech speakers. That put the four of us (Matt, Bethany, myself and Lee, a friend of ours here) against the seven of them. We beat them 50 to 44. The second game we tried to switch out teams, appointing both Matt and Bethany as captains. But the way the picking turned out, we just lost Matt and gained Philip and Jana. So we stomped them again, this time 50 to 34 or 36. I really like playing basketball here, because I'm definitely improving and playing well. It's great!

I picked up a pair of slippers at one of the stores here. I like them a lot, because they help me keep my feet warm. When you are in anyone's house, you always take your shoes off. This includes in your own house. And that's fine, except for the part where I get cold feet and thus get cold all over. So I got these slippers. They squish down well, and I can put them in my backpack and take them wherever.




Last Thursday I went to help Jay, another friend here, unpack a crate he had shipped over to himself from the States. Matt Harris also went. We finished up with lunch, and had to wait a little until the crate arrived at the storage unit where he was sending it. So we walked through a couple malls and a grocery store.

The time arrived for us to go to the storage unit. Jay proceeded to lead us towards . . . . the highway? He explained that as of yet he did not know of any other way to get to the storage place from where we were at. I felt a little weird waltzing across an off-ramp and walking alongside the interstate. The only comforting fact was that there was a clearly worn dirt path going right where we were headed.

We walked underneath an overpass, and I had a startling revelation. This was the first time I had ever walked under an overpass, not riding in a vehicle. The whole way across I wondered to myself what it must be like to live under a bridge or overpass. We came out on the other side and continued to follow the path for a couple meters. Then it reared up and over the small hill that led up to the overpass; you know what I mean. It was a slightly drizzly day, and there was some snow and ice left on the ground. This hill was at least a 45 degree angle, if not more. The drizzle, ice, and angle combined to form a ridiculous ascent. I was reduced to climbing with my hands and feet, trying not to slip into the mud and down on top of Matt.

We finally reached the top, and walked through more mud to the storage center. There, the crate arrived a few minutes after we did. We unloaded it onto three dollies (no, not the baby kind, the moving-large-equipment kind). I took one, and wheeled it into the elevator. I asked Matt what floor Jay's storage unit was on, and he said, "Floor 3." So I pushed the button, and up we went. Matt had also told me, "You have to go down one ramp, and then go to the red door." At the third floor I pushed the cart/dolly thing out of the elevator, down the ramp, and to the red door. It was closed and locked. So I waited. While I waited I watched two guys trying to fix a car on that floor.

Oh, small detail. I should mention that the storage units were in the same building as a parking garage. That's why it had the ramp thing. That should also help explain the presence of a broken car (along with several working ones) on-the-third-floor-and-down-a-ramp. So, I waited. Patiently. I took some time to pray, examined my fingernails, tried the doors again to make sure they were locked, and waited.

Finally Matt called to me, "Joel."

I said, "Yo!"

He said again, "Joel."

I said, "The doors are locked."

He said, "Where are you?"

"I'm right in front of the red doors, but they're locked."

"What floor are you on?"

'The third one, and down the ramp"

"Oh, hold on a sec . . ."

I had forgotten a crucial detail in dealing with Czech elevators. The ground floor is always Zero. The next floor up is One, and so on. Floors below the ground are -1, -2, and so on in that direction. So when I go home and push the button for the fourth floor, I am actually five stories high. But according to Czech logic I am on the fourth floor.

Thus, Jay's storage unit was on the third floor, according to American terms. It was the third level above the ground. But according to the Czech elevator, it was the second floor. So Matt came up and helped me move my cart down two more ramps to get to the correct floor.

But remember that this is in a parking garage? Yeah, as we were going down the first ramp, a car whirled around the corner and tried to come up that same ramp. I was fairly sure that it would hit it's brakes. But it took a few more seconds for the car to stop than I would have liked! That car got uncomfortably close. I must admit to emitting a little, "Urp!"

Matt and I finished rolling down that ramp, and got out of the way of the car. The driver gunned his engine and shot up the ramp, clearly angry. We continued down, and finished putting the stuff into the storage unit. All in all, it was an eventful day.

In His Time,