Easter in Prague

Easter is a beautiful time to be in Prague, except for the weather. On Easter Sunday, temperatures dipped below freezing, but the atmosphere was otherwise festive. In public squares around the city, vendors set up stalls for weeks-long Easter markets where they sell painted and carved eggs, hot wine, various meats on sticks, and delicious pastries called Trdelnik which are like hollow cylinders of baked dough dipped in sugar. You can also get them with nutella or other flavorings, but they’re quite good on their own!

Easter Sunday was our first full day in Prague. We began at one of the smaller squares, which was to host live music and booths for visitors to dye eggs and braid their own Easter whips (more on that tradition in a bit). As we approached the square, we could hear the music from two blocks away. As we drew nearer, however, we found the scene disappointingly empty. A few older people sat listening to the music. You could count the people in the booths on one hand, and all were working very earnestly working on their whips and other handicrafts.

We sat and listened to one song. Although we speak no Czech, it was clear enough that the singer, a man in his early thirties, was trying, with little success, to get his audience to sing along. Behind him portly men twice his age blew red-faced into brass instruments. A few old ladies finally joined in the singing, and for a minute the atmosphere was festive. Then the song ended, the musicians put away their horns, and what crowd there was dispersed.

In search of a more happening market, Emily and I headed for Wenceslas Square, one of the city’s largest. It’s really more of a plaza or promenade than a square, as it’s only a block or two wide but extends out for several blocks from the foot of the Czech National Museum. The square was packed with red-roofed wooden booths and milling with people.

The only problem was that the people were almost universally tourists. Wenceslas Square is one of the main hubs for tourism in Prague, so the street is lined with money changers, casinos, and souvenir shops. Picturesque it isn’t. That said, we did spot a few locals, including one dressed as an ostrich-rider. A little research suggests that artists sometimes etch ostrich eggs, which of course are much larger than hens’ eggs, so that’s my best and only guess regarding the connection between his costume and the holiday.

We purchased a lunch of chicken skewers (for Emily) and potato salad (for me) and washed it down with hot wine and a trdelnik, which when served hot and crispy is even tastier than it sounds. As we ate, a man with a dirt-caked face and disheveled beard brushed past us. Thankfully we were alert for pickpockets and had everything tucked away securely, because his next stop was a nearby trash can where he rooted around for discarded food. A man desperate enough to lift food from the garbage will presumably have no compunction about lifting your wallet from your pocket.

Edit: I was called out for the above comment, and rightfully so. It was a very unfair assumption for me to make, and I regret writing it. I won’t try to hide my ignorance by deleting it, but I struck it out to make clear that I now consider it a mistake.

The food was good, but all in all Wenceslas Square was also a bit of a disappointment because it so cheaply and blatantly catered to tourists. This is the typical tourists’ conundrum: you want to experience the “real” customs and traditions of a place, but in many cases those customs and traditions are kept alive and/or publicized primarily for tourists. The life of the “average resident” of any place probably isn’t that exciting: he goes to work, he drinks a few beers and watches TV on the weekend, and when he eats out it’s probably the same pizza or Chinese delivery that you get at home.

Of course, when a tourist is in Prague, he doesn’t want to eat pizza or Chinese food. He wants to dine at a typical Czech restaurant. Thankfully, as with all other tourists’ needs, Wenceslas Square provides:

After a brief respite at our rented apartment, we hit the streets again. This time our destination was the Mirror Chapel, a 300-year old performance space whose organ Mozart supposedly played on his visits to Prague, for a concert of classical Easter music. Though I’m not generally a fan of baroque architecture, even I had to admit the room was beautiful (photo from Via Musica):

The concert itself was good, in that the performers were clearly very talented, but the music was not terribly upbeat. My assumption was that Easter music would be more uplifting and triumphant, celebrating the resurrection of Christ, but this selection included two requiems and was mostly slow and mournful.

Afterwards we wandered through the Easter Market at nearby Old Town Square, another major tourist destination. This one was at least better decorated and surrounded by older and more unique buildings:

Easter Monday, not Sunday, is actually the major holiday in the Czech Republic. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a lot of public celebrating going on. It’s a day that’s mostly spent at home with family, so stores were closed and many people had left the city entirely to return to their hometowns.

The weather, however, was much nicer. We walked to one of the smaller markets near our apartment and found a more sedate scene than we’d encountered yesterday:

Monday was the last day for this market, and about half of the stalls had already shut down. We did manage to buy some painted eggs and a willow whip.

So about the willow whip: on Easter, boys carry whips made from braided willow branches and decorated with colorful ribbon. Whipping a woman’s lower leg is supposed to bring her youth, and in return she is supposed to give you an egg (symbolism, anyone?). Alternatively women can also give out candy, rum, or money, and men may sometimes throw cold water on them instead of whipping them.

This, too, seemed to be a “tradition” celebrated primarily by and for the benefit of tourists. I bought a whip, but Emily did not respond to my first few lashes of her legs. The only other people we saw all day with a whip was another tourist couple, basically a better-looking version of us. The man struck his companion’s leg playfully, and she rewarded him with a lingering kiss. “I’m going to go whip her,” I told Emily. “She gives out kisses.” Thankfully Emily did not have a whip.