Our car missed the exit off the freeway which meant we had to take a long detour to get to our destination. We were distracting the driver with our questions, some of which my mother, Joanne, had waited her whole life to ask. Alys, Joanne, and myself were sandwhiched in the back seat of the small Czech sedan, Alys and I still groggy, while my father, EdWard sat upfront with our driver, EdUard as well. Thanks to GenCircles and help from her niece, Joanne had found Eduard Krajnik on the Internet, a distant reative with whom we shared ancestors in the 17th century and provided a vital link to our family history. Eduard pulled the car over in the first of several small villages we were to visit that morning not sure exactly where the detour had led us. He glanced across the street at the nearest house hoping to see an address that would help him get his bearings. ˝I can not believe it, but accross the street, that is the house. That is Ana´s house. ˝ It was serendipty or something like it, that had the five of use standing in front of the house of Ana Svoboda, my great-great-great grandmother in the small village of Citov. It was the first time any member of the family had been back to the Czech Republic, to this village, since the family emigrated to the United States. Surreal can´t even begin to describe what that felt like...
Alys and I met my parents at the airport in Prague. It was by chance that our two seperate trips managed to conincide so well. I thought they would be exhausted from a long international flight that included a lay over in Munich. But they had made it unscathed and with more spunk than I had expected under the circumstances. My Dad, ever the efficent one, was already outfitting his phone with a Czech SIM card, when we arrived to find my Mom, amongst the sparse crowd in the international arrivals terminal. I felt a surge of relief. It was just so good seeing them, yet again, in an airport somewhere in the world. I am grateful that I have parents that will somehow manage to make it a point to meet me, wherever it may be in the world, that I manage to find myself in.
We wanted to make it easy for them. Alys and I had already been in Prague a week at that point and were well equiped to be tour guides. Alys and Joanne bonded over Rick Steves and his genius while my Dad and I bonded over proving Rick wrong. It was more fun than I´d like to admit being the tourists for a few days that Alys and I try so hard to avoid being. We walked the Charles Bridge, rewalked it over and over again, while Alys made up games to get us across through the hordes of tourists at a more reasonable pace. First one to the end wins which sent the four of us off, dodging tourists in khakis, socks and sandals. My mother chasing after Alys like a giddy child determined to win, sent me keeling over in bouts of laughter.
The first two days of their stay in Prague we drank beer, avoided the sporadic rain bursts, stood in a camera-glad mass of tourists to watch the astronomical clock spit out a few disciples in a puppet dance on the hour, and walked my parents many blocks out of the center to find authentic cuisine at an authentic price. The next two days were reserved for outside the city: tracking down family ties and learning more about our family history. Essentially the heart of what my Mom and I were really there to do.
So that is where we landed with Eduard. Winding through villages to the house of my great-great-great-great grandfater in the village of Stremy to the house of my great-great-great grandfather, Vanclav Kranjik, in Jenichov. Ana and Vanclav had come to the US as children, had fallen in love there, to discover that they had grown up in villages just miles apart in the Czech Republic. I tried to visualize what they must have looked like, what living in these villages must have felt like. But it is impossible for me to really understand, so far removed from it all. We were chasing ghosts, my Mom and I, trying to reunite with some part of the past which so easily fades amongst the young, mixed history of the United States.
The next day the four of us rented a car to explore the villages of other ancestors. With my Dad at the wheel, Alys as his front seat navigator and my Mom and I in back, it was Alys who managed to get us out of Prague´s sprawl and on to country roads (well Alys and the TomTom navigation system, I should say. Even when we disagreed with him, somehow he always managed to be right). The day spanned out in green fields, luscious skies, and roads that were just a pinch from being too windy for me to stomach. It was beautiful. And it felt so familiar.
Alys and I spent a total of 20 days in the Czech Republic, the longest we have stayed in one country. I also feel that I was able to get to know it well, was able to finally connect to a real part of my history. A place I have so long associated with my identity.
-Jess
