five years, six cities, four countries, five languages, six sim cards. Five people in the friend list on Facebook, a job, about two hundred pages in Word (Times New Roman twelve). I started this blog podobnejch of the reasons that the first post of a woman that many of our generation Erasmus: I was away from home, I missed the Prague and I wanted to stay in touch.
from the first letters in the middle of plumbing adventures in Dijon had it changed. I tried living with a friend, strangers, and the college itself. I spent endless hours in the night buses. because once you air controllers strike in Paris canceled flight. SkyEurope then canceled. I grew up in pink skirts children's department of H & M and started to yearn for gold satin and black sequins. started calling me "Frau" and "ma'am" instead of "Mademoiselle", even in the Czech Republic I now suddenly Mrs. I passed a few boxes of ikey and many tests of political science. I met many people and several others stopped talking. I learned how to navigate in five university libraries - two of them I even rozchodila copier. I moved from the tent to the hostel. At one point, I very much did not want to move again, looking for another apartment, set up another account and select the next mobile phone, a distinguished road around - and then suddenly the idea of \u200b\u200bme that just after graduating back to Prague began to panic more. But mostly I miss you stopped. I became Mr. Fielding of Forster's A Passage to India: also traveling light. nelpím, you should not stay, the neusazuju while zapouštím roots quickly, anywhere.
because this one final quote. Ödön von Horvath, unlike Kafka in literature classes in the Czech Republic does not discuss too much, certainly, but it would cost. Text "Fiume, Belgrade ..." published in the Berlin cultural journal Querschnitt in 1929 as a nostalgic sigh for the period in which words like "nation" or "homeland" yet not destroy thousands of lives. so do not sit right for me - after all, I grew up in Prague, read and škvoreckýho skullcap, listened to Chingy and regularly throw the ballot into the ballot box. I've not seen in fourteen World War and I hope that my exile in Paris in the middle of storms kill on the Champs Elysees a falling branch. But the conviction that the experiences, people and places mean more than any border with von Horvath share.
(Czech translation I've found anywhere on the net and the library cause I'm lazy. Therefore, rather vyplodím own).
Fiume, Belgrade, Budapest, Pressburg, Vienna, Munich (Odonata von Horvath. Querschnitt, February 1929)
ask me on my own, I say: I was born in Rijeka , I grew up in Belgrade, Budapest, Prešpurk, Vienna and Munich and I have a Hungarian passport - but the "homeland"? I do not know. I am a typical mixture of starorakouskouherská: Hungary, Croatia, Germany, Czech - my name is Hungarian, my native language is German. By far the best I speak German, I write it only in German, so I belong to the German cultural circle, the German nation. But: the term "homeland", the nationalist zfalešněný is foreign to me. My homeland is our people. So, as I said, I do not own and thus not naturally do not suffer, I rather enjoyed my bezvlastenectví because exempts me from unnecessary sentiment. But of course I know the landscape of the city and the rooms where I'm at home, I also have memories from childhood and I like them all as. You good and the bad. I see the streets and squares in the cities, where I played or I've gone to school, to meet again the railway track, toboggan hill, woods, churches, where I was forced to accept the Lord's body - I remember also still on my first love: it was During the World War in a quiet street. There I took in Budapest, a woman in her apartment čtyřpokojového just getting dark, the woman was no prostitute, but her husband was on the front, I believe that in Galicia, and she wanted to be loved again.
(...)
I believe that I have my "roller coaster" managed to bring proof that even someone who is not "established", not "national", bezvlastenecká racial mixtures, can create something What is "established" and "national" - because the heart beats of Nations in the same cycle. Only the dialect boundaries.
_____________________________________________
germanistům attach originál, aby si na smlsli mych překladatelských nedostatcích a interpretacích slov od kořene "people." protože a taky je to v němčině samozřejmě mnohem krásnější.
Fiume, Belgrade, Budapest, Bratislava, Vienna, Munich
you ask me about my home, I answer: I was born in Fiume, grew up in Belgrade, Budapest, Bratislava, Vienna and Munich and was a Hungarian passport - but "home"? I do not know. I am a typical old Austria-Hungary mixture: Magyar, Croatian, German, Czech - my name is Magyar, My mother tongue is German. I speak far the best German, write now only German, so belong to the German culture, the German people. However: the term "fatherland," falsified nationalist, is foreign to me. My country is the people. So, as I said, I have no home and do not suffer including, of course, but am glad my homelessness, because it frees me from unnecessary sentimentality. But I know of course landscapes, cities and rooms, where I feel at home, I have childhood memories and love them, like any other. The good and the bad. I see the streets and squares in different cities, where I've played, or that I went to school, I see the train again, the toboggan hills, forests, churches where they forced me to receive the sacred body of the Lord - I also remember my first love: this was during World War II in a quiet lane, because I was met in Budapest, a woman in her four-room apartment, it was getting dark, the woman was not a prostitute, but her husband was in the field, I believe, in Galicia, and they wanted to be loved again .
(...)
I think I was able to provide through my "mountain train" to the evidence, that (a) does not "Bodenständiger" nicht "Völkischer" Eine heimatlose Rassenmischung, etwas "Bodenständig-Völkisches" Schaffen kann - daily das Herz schlägt der Völker im Gleichen Clock, es gibt ja nur als Grenzen dialect.
from the first letters in the middle of plumbing adventures in Dijon had it changed. I tried living with a friend, strangers, and the college itself. I spent endless hours in the night buses. because once you air controllers strike in Paris canceled flight. SkyEurope then canceled. I grew up in pink skirts children's department of H & M and started to yearn for gold satin and black sequins. started calling me "Frau" and "ma'am" instead of "Mademoiselle", even in the Czech Republic I now suddenly Mrs. I passed a few boxes of ikey and many tests of political science. I met many people and several others stopped talking. I learned how to navigate in five university libraries - two of them I even rozchodila copier. I moved from the tent to the hostel. At one point, I very much did not want to move again, looking for another apartment, set up another account and select the next mobile phone, a distinguished road around - and then suddenly the idea of \u200b\u200bme that just after graduating back to Prague began to panic more. But mostly I miss you stopped. I became Mr. Fielding of Forster's A Passage to India: also traveling light. nelpím, you should not stay, the neusazuju while zapouštím roots quickly, anywhere.
because this one final quote. Ödön von Horvath, unlike Kafka in literature classes in the Czech Republic does not discuss too much, certainly, but it would cost. Text "Fiume, Belgrade ..." published in the Berlin cultural journal Querschnitt in 1929 as a nostalgic sigh for the period in which words like "nation" or "homeland" yet not destroy thousands of lives. so do not sit right for me - after all, I grew up in Prague, read and škvoreckýho skullcap, listened to Chingy and regularly throw the ballot into the ballot box. I've not seen in fourteen World War and I hope that my exile in Paris in the middle of storms kill on the Champs Elysees a falling branch. But the conviction that the experiences, people and places mean more than any border with von Horvath share.
(Czech translation I've found anywhere on the net and the library cause I'm lazy. Therefore, rather vyplodím own).
Fiume, Belgrade, Budapest, Pressburg, Vienna, Munich (Odonata von Horvath. Querschnitt, February 1929)
ask me on my own, I say: I was born in Rijeka , I grew up in Belgrade, Budapest, Prešpurk, Vienna and Munich and I have a Hungarian passport - but the "homeland"? I do not know. I am a typical mixture of starorakouskouherská: Hungary, Croatia, Germany, Czech - my name is Hungarian, my native language is German. By far the best I speak German, I write it only in German, so I belong to the German cultural circle, the German nation. But: the term "homeland", the nationalist zfalešněný is foreign to me. My homeland is our people. So, as I said, I do not own and thus not naturally do not suffer, I rather enjoyed my bezvlastenectví because exempts me from unnecessary sentiment. But of course I know the landscape of the city and the rooms where I'm at home, I also have memories from childhood and I like them all as. You good and the bad. I see the streets and squares in the cities, where I played or I've gone to school, to meet again the railway track, toboggan hill, woods, churches, where I was forced to accept the Lord's body - I remember also still on my first love: it was During the World War in a quiet street. There I took in Budapest, a woman in her apartment čtyřpokojového just getting dark, the woman was no prostitute, but her husband was on the front, I believe that in Galicia, and she wanted to be loved again.
(...)
I believe that I have my "roller coaster" managed to bring proof that even someone who is not "established", not "national", bezvlastenecká racial mixtures, can create something What is "established" and "national" - because the heart beats of Nations in the same cycle. Only the dialect boundaries.
_____________________________________________
germanistům attach originál, aby si na smlsli mych překladatelských nedostatcích a interpretacích slov od kořene "people." protože a taky je to v němčině samozřejmě mnohem krásnější.
Fiume, Belgrade, Budapest, Bratislava, Vienna, Munich
you ask me about my home, I answer: I was born in Fiume, grew up in Belgrade, Budapest, Bratislava, Vienna and Munich and was a Hungarian passport - but "home"? I do not know. I am a typical old Austria-Hungary mixture: Magyar, Croatian, German, Czech - my name is Magyar, My mother tongue is German. I speak far the best German, write now only German, so belong to the German culture, the German people. However: the term "fatherland," falsified nationalist, is foreign to me. My country is the people. So, as I said, I have no home and do not suffer including, of course, but am glad my homelessness, because it frees me from unnecessary sentimentality. But I know of course landscapes, cities and rooms, where I feel at home, I have childhood memories and love them, like any other. The good and the bad. I see the streets and squares in different cities, where I've played, or that I went to school, I see the train again, the toboggan hills, forests, churches where they forced me to receive the sacred body of the Lord - I also remember my first love: this was during World War II in a quiet lane, because I was met in Budapest, a woman in her four-room apartment, it was getting dark, the woman was not a prostitute, but her husband was in the field, I believe, in Galicia, and they wanted to be loved again .
(...)
I think I was able to provide through my "mountain train" to the evidence, that (a) does not "Bodenständiger" nicht "Völkischer" Eine heimatlose Rassenmischung, etwas "Bodenständig-Völkisches" Schaffen kann - daily das Herz schlägt der Völker im Gleichen Clock, es gibt ja nur als Grenzen dialect.
