Verve and the hungry dinosaur

I was on my way to Berlin and I decided to stop in Prague for a few days since I was searching for some new music. Once I got there, however, I found myself on a historical journey that has been fused on my brain since I left.
I walked through the streets winding like a river bordered by glittering buildings that seemed to sway with the cobblestoned streets. It was beautiful. I just walked around for hours staring at nameless things and thinking I should really know where I am.
Since I’m a history buff and like staring at pretty things I took a trip down to the Jewish Quarter for a sad lesson on why Hitler had collected so many Jewish valuables in Prague. His intention of making a museum entitled “Museum of the Extinct Race” is now home to the largest collection of Jewish items in Europe. Go figure.
I made my way through the synagogues silently absorbing and admiring the structures. It was a rainy day so everything glistened and twinkled. It must be interesting to live in a historically rich town where every step you take feels like home to a million memories. Or maybe these people go about their daily lives as if these streets imply nothing. It’s no wonder my generation forgets so easily.
My mother has this photo of when she was 19 sitting on Jim Morrison’s gravestone in Paris with a huge smile on her face. I’ve donned the grin while sitting atop headstones in Gettysburg national cemetery. My grandparents are buried in a serene cemetery on top of a hill in New Jersey where I’ve been known to linger. Cemeteries have been frequent visits throughout my life; however, they were distant memories once I saw the Old Jewish Cemetery. Bordered by tall buildings, this block of land is crowded with gravestones crammed close to one another. The dead are buried on top of each other causing the land to roll like waves and headstones to topple left or right. Tall, gangly trees hung overhead holding in the thousands of stories clinging to the earth. Due to Jewish custom and only being given a certain amount of land, they had to get creative with their burial tactics. It was surreal.
Before my trip to Prague I had come from Munich’s heavily laden schnitzel and sauerkraut and was tired of it. My favorite fare is Japanese and I thought I was ridiculous in thinking I could find any good Asian food, when I stumbled upon Orange Moon in Old Town Prague. I ended up going there every night for the same Burmese noodles. What can I say, when I like something I’m obsessed with it.