When you’re a kid, everything is interesting. The world is a dazzling kaleidoscope of color and images. Each day is filled with curiosity and wonder. Sometimes I find myself missing that part of me. As we age, we naturally become more cynical. At some point we let go of that child-like view of the world, and soon we find ourselves shrugging more often, and laughing less. Cynicism is a slow, malicious disease of the mind, but you can fight it. I don’t want to become that adult that we all hated as kids; the one who doesn’t get excited easily, and doesn’t laugh at stupid jokes. I don’t want to be that person who is impossible to impress.  When you lose your sense of wonder, your soul dies.

I try to fight it, but the battle is ongoing.  I live in an absolutely beautiful city, but some days all I can see is its ugly side. After weeks of routine and grey, cloudy days, I take a nose-dive into moodiness. I focus on the dirty streets, the homelessness, and the glaring stink-eye from the hag at my local grocery store (I can call her that, since she has already cursed me in Hungarian). The normally stunning view of the riverfront at night becomes average. Eh, I’ve seen it a thousand times by now. 

When I become aware that I am falling into this black abyss of cynicism, I make a conscious effort to fight it. I play more games with my students, and I try to see friends during the week. I take long, night walks along the riverbend, and I make myself stare at a pretty building for a while. I make myself look at my surroundings as if I were a kid again. It sounds silly but it works, at least temporarily.

One of the best cures for cynicism is travel. You can’t be a cynical old bore when you’re traveling. You can’t explore a new city without rekindingly that sense of wonder and curiosity. You’ll find yourself standing in awe in front of breath-taking landscapes, moving memorials, towering cathedrals, and glittering palaces. Suddenly your world is dazzling once again.

I spent four days in Prague in late October. Founded in 885, it is a city that has witnessed the rise and fall of empires, suffered through two world wars, and resisted the iron fist of communism. It is truly a city that has defied Time, and it is so well-preserved that one has touble comprehending its true age. Prague  is a city of music, of street preformers, and of life. The buildings are colorful, and every bustling street is cobblestoned. Souvenir shops are filled with puppets and old-fashioned toys, and cafes seemed to be obsessed with absinth and cannabis beer. Everywhere you look, there is something eye-catching and intriguing.

I’m convinced that the best time to see a new city, is at night. I took a chilly walk down the famous Charles Bridge at dusk,  when the ghostly limbs of a lingering fog turned the statues into phantoms. Night fell when I reached Old Town Square, where the gothic spires of Tyn Church stood out, illuminated in white light. The streets were nearly empty, and the quiet air was calming. I stood beneath the centuries-old Astronomical Clock, and time seemed to stand still.

The next morning, Madeline and I walked up the hill to the Strahov Monastery. Unable to pay the fee to see the famous library, we instead opted for a relaxing walk throuh the monastery’s forest, and a chance to replenish our cups of mulled wine. Next we went up to Prague Castle, primarily to catch a glimpse of the incredible bird’s-eye-view of the city.

On the third day, Maddie and I hopped on what looked like a toy train, and we set off for the small town of Kutna Hora. Aptly named, it was a strange, sleepy town. The main attraction was a chapel, which was decorated entirely with the bones of 40,000 Black Plague and Hussite War victims. Legend says that a blind monk miraculously regained his sight after spending a lifetime arraigning the bones into massive pyramids. Later, the bones were used to make a chandelier, garlands, and crosses. Known as the Bone Chapel, the Sedlec Ossuary stands as one of the creepiest places I have ever been.

Back in Prague, we bought a ticket to explore the Old Jewish Quarter. We visited three synagogues, one of which was covered in the names of Czech Holocaust victims. There I learned about children who died in the ghetto and later, in the concentration camps. The tour ended in a walk through the crowded Old Jewish Cemetery; an extremely small plot of land assigned to the large Jewish population during the 14th century. People were buried on top of one another. It was without a doubt, an incredibly moving experience.

On the last day, Maddie and I visited the famous Lennon Wall. In the 1980s, students used the wall to vent their grievences with the communist regime under Gustav Husak. I was a little disappointed to see that most of those historical messages were painted over with cheesy love lines. Regardless, it was a cool photo moment.

Finally, we spent the rest of the day in Old Town Square, admiring the churches and little shops. I stood in the center of Old Town Square, and stared in disbelief at the buildings, in complete incomprehesion that such beautiful structures could be so old. The best part of the day was watching the Astronomical Clock go off, exactly on the hour.

After the four days, I left Prague fully satisfied that I had explored every facet of that little city. I have traveled a lot since I arrived in Europe last year, and a few words have always come to mind right away to describe the cities that I’ve seen. Magical, exhilirating, fascinating. However, my experience in Prague was different, more difficult to describe in one word. Out of all of the cities that I’ve seen, Prague awakened that part of me that I have let slip away in recent years.

I have to also thank Madeline, for teaching me how to be a kid again. Here’s to chasing trains, dodging maniacal segway riders, and wearing matching mushroom hats.