WORKING IN DISNEYLAND: PRAGUE 2000
I tried hard enough to be friendly at first. Nobody had much nice to say about
the school, or about
Prague. The majority of them didn’t even go out or drink much, and had
been under the misapprehension that they were going abroad for a cultural
experience. Most of them were British and complained about the service in Prague, their flats, the rudeness of
the people. The Americans all complained about their massive college loan debts.
“Uh, so why did you come here to work then?” I asked them. “For the experience,”
was the general answer.
I blame the Internet, personally. It’s made it to easy for people with no
affinity for travel to go abroad and work. After, of course, paying a few
thousand bucks for a certificate course.
Fortunately my roommate turned out to have a sense of humor, unlike most of the
others. He’d been in Prague about four months. We hooked up with a couple of other like-minded
individuals quickly enough and explored Prague’s nightlife with energy,
though we constantly got lost and ended up wandering around medieval streets
looking for obscure bars in the freezing cold. After enough beer we didn’t mind.
Prague itself had come more to resemble Medieval World at Disneyland than
anything else. It was no longer difficult to find pens, or anything else. The
streets of the center were constantly full of drunk tourists and locals only
rarely ventured there. Particularly unpleasant did I find the skankily –dressed
Eurotrash Italian men, but the British and Germans had little to recommend them.
Most of the Americans living there had artistic delusions, acted out in
unbearably pretentious coffee shops and book shops. At last count there were
around 759 different novels about young Americans turning their back on the
consumerism of American society to go teach English in Prague and find themselves. Most of the people writing them were on
parental trust funds and never taught English.
Still, I can’t say it’s not a fun place, and certainly beautiful. There’s an
unmistakable pleasure in getting drunk and falling down on cobblestones, and
maybe peeing on a 500-year-old building.
The day after our first binge, my roommate said, “We had a great time last night,
but we spent a fucking fortune.”
“A fortune? I think I only spent about $20.”
He shook his head. “You’ve got to get used to the economy here, mate.”
I shrugged. I’d never had trouble saving a bit of money, in any of my jobs. I’d
even come out ahead in Bangkok and New York,
something not many people can say.
The schedule was typical – unpleasant. Classes started as early as 7:30, and
ended as late as 8:00, with a long day in the middle. Split shift hell, three or
four days a week. The nicest thing was that there were few classes on Friday
afternoon or evening, which meant the weekend could get started appropriately
early in the day.
I had a number of “outdoor” jobs – mostly banks and offices in the center. I
spent some time on the trams and subway, but it wasn’t too bad, really – some
people I worked with had to travel as much as an hour on the train. The students
were nice enough – they had a hell of a lot more to say than the Thais or
Koreans at any rate.
The school, however, had the absolute worst atmosphere of any school I’ve ever
worked at. The staff was bitchy, unhappy and gossipy. The bloated sinister apes
in charge were rarely helpful. Teachers were afraid to go into the crowded,
hectic staffroom, for fear of being giving a last-minute substitution. You’d be
idly doing your huge amount of redundant, unnecessary paperwork and a secretary
would come up to you and say, “Say, can you do a Level 5 private in Prague 4 in
forty five minutes? It’s only thirty minutes away on the bus.” My roommate and I
never answered our telephone during the day for fear of them.
Finally our first payday rolled around.
I’d spent about $500 my first month in Prague, but it’s normal to spend a lot
the first month, before you knew the ins and outs of a place. I calmly waited in
line for my money, wondering why some of the other new teachers were coming out
looking so cross.
Then I found out.
The salary promised hadn’t been especially large, but the amount received turned
out to be even lower, after taxes and other deductions. It ended up being about
$200 a month, I think. I lost about $20 - $50 a month of my savings every month
I lived in Prague.
I spent six months in Disneyland and then decided I couldn’t afford it anymore. My time in that
most festive of cities was memorable, but colored by my poverty. Beer was cheap,
but how was a guy supposed to keep up with the Italian tourists chasing cootchie
when he couldn’t afford a decent new t-shirt every now and again?
There’s only one problem with living in
Disneyland:
You can’t have too much fun if you don’t have any E tickets.