Since my first visit in 1993 to Prague and Svetla, I’ve always had a good impression of the Czech people—they are pleasant and polite, and do not stare at the obvious outsider like me—except for one particular aspect for which I can find no explanation.
In my last five visits, I have been left to struggle alone with my big suitcase down Metro stairs, laborious step by laborious step, letting down the wheels of the suitcase gently onto the step below, while the good people of the Czech Republic, even young men, go past without a sideway glance, let alone offer to help. Something that would not happen in London.
On this trip out on the coach from London, I noticed that the young man next to me, who is Czech and from Prague, was rather cramped in his aisle seat, being about 6’ tall. So, when one of the two English ladies in front got off early at Heidelberg, I suggested to the other one, whom I’d befriended at Victoria in London, that she sit with me, so that the young man could stretch out his long legs in the double seat for the rest of the journey to Prague. The young man never thanked me for this, not even when I checked a few hours later if he was now much more comfortable.
When the bus was delayed by 15 minutes getting into Prague, which would make my getting the connection to Pelhrimov rather tight, I asked the young man if he could help me find the right bus bay when we got to Florenc (bus terminus in Prague), explaining that I was only asking because I was now short of time or I’d have done it myself. He said he would help me, but when we got off and I was claiming my suitcase from the hold, I noticed that he was not looking out for me at all but chatting to an older man. Even when I made a point of going up to him to remind him that I needed his help (because he could speak more English than a lot of Czech people I've come across), his response was now that he didn’t know much about such things, and pointed me in the direction of the information area at one end of the bus terminus.
The one occasion I was unexpectedly offered some help was last summer as I struggled up the steps at Florenc in Prague, by now resigned to not being noticed at all. A young man, butch in build and dressed in dark clothes, picked up my suitcase and took it effortlessly up the steps. I thanked him profusely, and as he turned away, I saw on the back of his jacket the word POLICIE.
Update Monday 220811: I'd arrived at Roztyly in Prague and had to go to Florenc to catch the London coach. Had to struggle down the stairs as usual -- no escalators -- and found myself thinking about this blog, wondering if anything might happen this time to redeem the reputation of Czech chaps. Maybe I was thinking very loudly because halfway down, a young man did indeed stop and offer! The train was just pulling in and he very helpfully told me if I was going to Florenc, that was my train. Not only that, he also told me I should stay at that end as that was where the exit for Florenc was. This young man had started out from Pelhrimov -- I remember seeing him in the queue there -- and his English was not bad. He is a civil engineering student, and his name is Vojta. Czech chaps: you have a lot to learn from Vojta.
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