In my time in the Czech Republic, so far I’ve seen a few other places besides Prague: Plzen, Kutná Hora, Lidice, and Terezin. I added a town called Olomouc in Moravia to this list just last weekend. CIEE require students to go on at least 2 ‘academic’ trips over the course of the semester, and it’s nice because they pay for all meals and accommodations at hotels. Which obviously makes sense if they’re ‘requiring’ you to go somewhere. But students have the opportunity to go on more than just two trips if they choose. My friends have gone to places like Skoda Autoworks factory (an Czech automobile manufacturer which is now a wholly owned subsidiary of the Volkswagen Group), and the picturesque historical town of Ceský Krumlov.
So my first academic trip was with an Art and Architecture professor to Lidice and Terezín (better known to some as Theresienstadt concentration camp). I mentioned this in one of my earlier posts. Last Friday, my Psychoanalysis and Society class, along with the Psychoanalysis and Art class taught by the same professor, went to Olomouc which is located in the eastern Moravian part of the CR. (Prague is in Bohemia).
On our initial drive down, we stopped at Bernard Brewery. They make a special kind of microfiltered beer instead of using pasteurization but have perfected techniques to increase its shelf life. They soon plan to expand exports to New York! It was a smallish, clearly family-owned place, much less glossy than the tourist-geared Pilsner complex. The weather-beaten man who led us around didn’t speak English, so we had to translate his explanation of the business and description of the brewery. As a treat, we had a tasting and were all given huge Bernard beer mugs as gifts! The group (thirteen girls and Pat) cheered and burst into applause like little kids with free ice cream.
Our next bus jaunt ended at our destination town. The hotel left a little to be desired in my opinion (as I regarded my soon-to-be bed skeptically), but Carly and I snagged a double together. We all left to go meet a guide for a walking tour of the town, and on our way to the center I memorized the ten minute walk to our hotel to get my bearings. Our guide was a cheerful Czech who was a teacher at a nearby high school. Along with him were three students, (whose names I later found out were Michal, Michal, and Leo). One of them pitifully had a mouth full of braces, which quickly dispelled any discussions as to their ages.
Our guide led us past the Holy Trinity Column, a UNESCO World Heritage site, an astronomical clock like Prague’s, and the Marian Plague Column dedicated to the victims of the Black Plague, which had completely devastated the region centuries ago. He told us that local university students who wanted to graduate climbed through the hole in the center of the monument, which was about 10 feet off the ground. Ainslie and Kathleen immediately ran up to the monument, scaled it, and pulled themselves though the carved hole. I eyed it, but realized my limbs were too short to manage a successful ascent. After everyone dismounted, we started to walk away to see the next site, a house where Mozart lived briefly and composed his Symphony #6 in F Major, when a whirring police car raced up to the plaza and pulled up directly next to us!
We gaped while backing away, and my first immediate thought was: “no way, I’m not going to jail here!” Turns out we had probably desecrated some ancient, historically significant monument, but apparently one of the cops used to go to school with the tour guide, so bemused, we laughed nervously and walked quickly away.
Over the following two days we visited the house where Freud was born before moving to Vienna, and continued our classroom studies about the Czech witch trials and burnings of the 17th century. The Northern Moravia witch trials were considered part of the Catholic counter-reformation. They started in 1678 when a local woman was observed taking the bread of communion during mass and saving the piece in her prayer book. To act against heresy, the local aristocrat was advised to form a witch commission. Retired inquisition judge Jindrich Boblig was recommended as the judge and head of commission, and was to become a well known witch hunter even though he hadn’t finished his law studies in Prague. Hundreds of people were burnt at stake on charges of witchcraft.
Malleus Maleficarum (Hammer of Witches) was a “guidebook” written in 1486 to prove the existence of witchcraft and described techniques to find them in the community, torture them, and convict them. It has been described as one of the most evil books ever written, and is also generally regarded as extremely misogynistic, claiming that women were inherently inclined to witchcraft, carnal instincts, and weakness. The work also accuses witches of infanticide, cannibalism, and robbing men of their sexual potency. At the time, it was thought to contain good theology, even though it sanctioned limitless torture to extract confessions from the accused.
When you think about it, burning innocent women accused of witchcraft at the stake is extremely barbaric, not to mention a complete travesty of the judicial system. But there are still accusations against witches in the world today, mainly in Sub-Saharan Africa where women and children are targeted. Witch-hunting is an example of the psychological process of scapegoating, which has been present in much of history, both religious and secular. This “fear of the uncanny”, in Freud’s words, can have resounding and devastating consequences. Even though I learned about the Salem witch trials in grade school, it’s easy to brush over and selectively forget this part of American history.
In other subjects, there is almost exactly a month left to go! I thought I had wanted to try and stay in Europe this summer but now I’m not so sure… Of the many things I have learned about myself on this trip, one of them is that I miss my family and home.
Happy trails Rochester.
Love, Marina