Today is a big day. As I write to the morning chirping of the birds, I still have my feet wet from watering the flowers for my mother, for Mother’s Day.
My dog Haryk passed in September of last year. So, I don’t have him anymore. It’s bizarre how many things have changed in one year. I’ve made a lot of posts since April of last year. I had around 100 posts, now I am close to 300 posts.
Mistakes. Yes, tons of them. Success, too. I’ve established my company Emma Blogs, LLC in August of last year. I got my eyes fixed with Dr. Verdier.
It’s May 9th, it’s my birthday. I was born on the national holiday in former Czechoslovakia. On that day, the nation’s capital Prague, the mother of all cities, was freed from the Nazi occupation by the Soviet Army. That was the end of World War II.
Many years later, I was born in the wee hours at 4 a.m. to parents Ella & Vaclav Konecny. My mom woke up to the cracking noises of fireworks announcing the anniversary of the victory.
“I thought it was war again, but then I realized those were fireworks celebrating your birth,” she said to me this morning as she wished me a happy birthday. “The whole nation celebrated.”
Czech Capital Prague
Mom says that to me every year, as the nature too celebrates the awakening after long winter.
“The nature blossoms on your birthday,” she says. “You always had the day off and a parade.”
Birthday blossom
The above note is one of the many reasons why I dedicated the memoir “Greenwich Meridian where East meets west” to my mother.
200 Posts & beyond
This post is inspired by Anton Chekhov’s “Three Sisters” and the constant friction that I have witnessed between sisters in this world.
Mom Ella & I
Mom Ella and aunt Anna
As I watch people drop like flies around me, I realize how time is going by fast. I like the inscription on the clock in the living room, “Tempus fugit.” That’s why I bought that pendulum clock as one of the first things when I arrived on this continent in 1989 for $110. Not that I had that kind of money. I just wanted the clock so bad, that I probably borrowed money for it. It announces the time by boldly striking every full and half hour. My husband Ludek still has to wind it by hand much like the clock that the in-laws had at home in the old country.
“They probably wouldn’t even let us know if Anna’s dead,” mom said about her sister.
Well, I think she is right. There is probably no one left to let us know. That’s all part of the emigration package that I am writing about in the memoir “Greenwich Meridian.”
To be continued as part of the ongoing series 200 Posts & beyond
Since I am living an international life with most of the family embedded in the USA, while the rest is scattered in France and Czech Republic, the Sochi Olympic Games, embody a true spirit of cooperation high above their competing foundation.
“Who do you root for?” a cashier once asked me at a local grocery store after he detected a slight accent.
Most of our family members, except for our son Jake, have a recognizable accent, some more than others. Often that becomes the center of all jokes. It can be anywhere from amusing to annoying.
“Well of course I go for the best one,” I laughed. “I don’t care about the nationality.”
The Czechs both in the old country and expatriates around the world have a great passion for sports. That is for medals, trophies, but most of all for fun.
Apart from hockey, Czechs became known for their figure skating legends Ondrej Nepela and Hana Maskova, who won bronze medal behind Peggy Fleming of the United States in the 1968 Olympics in Grenoble. She was the only Czech woman to win an Olympic medal in figure skating.
Slovak Ondrej Nepela won the 1972 gold medal in men’s figure skating at the Olympics in Sapporo. His fellow countryman Jozef Sabovcik won the bronze medal in the 1984 Olympics in Sarajevo, at a time when the country was still intact as Czechoslovakia.
Ondrej Nepela
In my memoir “Greenwich Meridian where East meets West,” I write about the family and the country’s involvement in sports, both amateur and professional.
My dad Vaclav Konecny, former Ferris State University professor, won several swimming competitions during his studies at the University of Jana Evangelisty Purkyne in Brno. Dad taught me how to swim at an early age, and ever since swimming has become my favorite sport, if only for fun. Each year, during my March writing retreat in Venice, Florida, I swim with the dolphins in the Gulf of Mexico.
But, other than swimming, I haven’t been endowed in sports unlike my husband Ludek Pala and my children Dr. Emma & Jake. I tinkered around a bit with softball and basketball at the Hawkins Junior High School, TX in the seventies. Ludek played soccer on a team in Stipa, Czechoslovakia and coached soccer for the YMCA & Lowell Area Schools, Michigan in the late 1990s and early 2000s. Jake was on his soccer team. Daughter Emma wanted to be a figure skater, but she didn’t have enough drive, practice or coaching. Maybe it was just something on a whim like little girls who want to be ballerinas. Although as always Emma seemed pretty determined.
When Ludek built a skating rink 50 by 60 feet on a tarp one foot deep complete with barriers in our garden around the year 2000, my hopes were high up that Jake would some day be on the élite Czech Olympic hockey team or on NHL along with Alexander Ovechkin.
Jake Pala
At the time, Jake was a student at the Lowell High School. He skated strategically well under Ludek’s training, but he didn’t take it any further. He was growing into his teens and had other interests.
“I did it for fun,” said Jake, regional distributor for Faygo.”It was phenomenal as a hobby. I used dad’s ice rink to the max.”
For Jake sports have always been a good motivator and a springboard into real life, but he never considered becoming a professional. He practiced hockey with his puck up to three hours a day. Quite often neighbor Bailey Haefner would join him for a friendly match.
“I started being really good at it” Jake said. “It came at a great time. I miss it and I’d like to perfect the skill.”
So, the hockey rink became sort of a neighborhood skating plaza for all. Winters were alsmost as hard as the winter of 2014, so it held up for months.
“I’ve always wanted to have a skating rink in my backyard,” said Ludek.
Ludek, an innovator in every sense, is very project oriented. He took the time to gather the scrap wood boards and
numbered them to create the barriers around the perimeter of the rink. He put tarp on the bottom and maintained the
surface on daily basis to keep it smooth for skating.
I don’t think I’ve ever skated on it. Then one year in February the rink melted and turned into a large puddle. Moreover, the neighborhood kids were growing up just like Jake did, so Ludek stopped building the ice rink. I asked him to build a covered swimming pool instead, but that hasn’t happened yet.
To be continued with “All my skiers.”
Copyright (c) 2014 story and photo by Emma Palova, other photos courtesy of Wikipedia, Internet
I’ve experienced a very productive year, both professionally and personally. On January 15th, I started my blog with WordPress to increase public engagement for my memoir project “Greenwich Meridian.”
The readership has grown from zero to nearly 200 followers in less than one year. As a lover of new things, I found a new passion in writing online, designing and search engine marketing.
My trophy case with WordPress says, “You are a prolific publisher. Why don’t you blog about it.”
As I learned the nuts and bolts of the business, I continued to explore my memories. The memoir tells a story about the family immigration saga that now spans three generations.
Emma Palova in her writing studio in Lowell, Michigan.
Here is an excerpt from Chapter 4- “The life of returned immigrants in communist Czechoslovakia.” It covers our return from the USA to the homeland in 1973 based on the presidential amnesty.
When we finally got out of a week-long nightmare at the quarantine Trebotov, it wasn’t exactly how I envisioned our homecoming. I was shocked at the dilapidated state of villages and towns in Bohemia and Moravia.
“Mom why is everything so old and ugly?” I asked innocently.
“It’s an old country my dear,” she smiled. “This is were you and I belong.”
“How can you say that after what we’ve been through at the quarantine?”
Due to chronic shortage of housing, we moved in with my paternal grandparents in Stipa. Neither mom nor I were used to being constantly pestered, not to speak about my brother Vas. Both grandparents, who were educators, were strict and prompt.
“Don’t touch that, don’t use that much water,” resonated through the house.
To this day, the house and my late uncle Antonin remain a mystery to me, and that was one of the reasons why I travelled to Europe last September.
But, back to Moments in time 2013.
In March I went to Florida for a retreat and an interview with my parents Ella & Vaclav Konecny who started the immigration saga in mid 1960s. See posts “Interview with my parents for Greenwich Meridian on March 10th, 13th & March 17th.
Whites Bridge near Smyrna, Michigan.
April brought flood waters to Lowell and Grand Rapids, the two communities that are the closest to where I live.
As far as my blog goes, I started adding pages covering local stories and interesting people. I will continue this with more inspiring area people into 2014.
One of the most heartbreaking moments came in July.
The Whites Covered Bridge burnt in Smyrna, which upset the history lover in me.
Note: I am back to writing about our family saga “Greenwich Meridian” that is now growing. I have moved the travel stories on a new page Travelogue where I will continue to write about the rest of my big trip to four European countries.
It was day one for newly born Josephine Marie Palova as we took the room at Bronson Hospital in Kalamazoo by a storm.
“This is the only time you can go to a hospital happy,” said my daughter Dr. Emma Palova-Chavent. She works as an emergency doctor in Seymour, France. “Dress up we’re going to be taking a lot of photos.”
Godmother Emma Palova-Chavent with newest member Josephine Marie Palova
We entered the room all decked out in latest fashion and make-up. That is except for me, because I had to leave my newest dress at Charles DeGaulle Airport for excessive weight in order to get back to US from my big trip.
When we peaked at Josephine with her big eyes, all content and inquisitive, I knew it was “our baby.”
“Guys, she has your big eyes,” said Maranda, the happy mother of the newborn baby. “I wonder if they’re going to be olive color.
Then, we started all posing for photos with any and every device we had on us. You name it, we had it; from Cannon cameras to I-phones and Verizon’s Samsungs. Josephine is quite photogenic with big eyes, black hair and perfect facial features.
“I am the Godmother,” said Emma posing in front of the nurse’s board. “I know it’s not a cool as being the Godfather, but it is cool.”
Now, with the newest addition we’re a multicultural international family. All of us were born in former Czechoslovakia. Emma’s husband is French, and they permanently reside in France with daughter Ella. They are considering coming to US when the time is right.
“Timing is everything,” one of my former editors used to say.
Maranda and Josephine Palova are the only true Americans in the family. The rest of us are naturalized Americans, except for my husband Ludek and my son Jake, who remain Czechs.
“We want to follow the Czech traditions,” said Maranda.
Even though the family name is Pala, in Czech language, the female takes on the –ova ending to her name, turning it into Palova.
That’s the same reason why my name is Palova, while my husband’s name is Pala.
Welcome to the family, Josie and Maranda. You have entered the “Greenwich Meridian” saga.
This is the fifth installment in my travel adventure series that covers three European countries including France, Spain and Czech Republic. I followed the footsteps of my past into Czech homeland as I visited places, friends and relatives that have had impact on our family immigration. I am currently working on my memoir “Greenwich Meridian” about the three-generation saga.
Zlin, Moravia- Sept.16th through Sept.24th
The names of many places, buildings and universities have changed since the fall of communism in 1989. So, as a rule, we had to meet with old friends and relatives best at train stations, because tracks haven’t moved or at bus stations.
In some cases, we even had to set up clues, marks and signs to recognize each other. Some of us had dyed, cut our hair or just plain have grown old and gray.
I easily recognized my friend Liba Hlavenka from Canada whom I haven’t seen in more than two decades in spite of the fact that we live in two neighboring countries.
“You live next to each other,” relatives asked, “That’s crazy you’re going to meet her here.”
Emma Palova with longtime friend Liba Hlavenka in front of train station Zlin.
Well, the distance between Montreal, where Liba lives, and Grand Rapids, where I live, is around 1,000 miles. It was a pure coincidence that we both happened to be in Zlin, Czech Republic, at the same time and in the same year. I wasn’t that lucky with my other classmates who too have immigrated; one also to Canada, the other to Sweden.
The other factor that plays a big role in brief rendezvous in the old country is that we all usually come back only for social occasions. That is most often for funerals, graduations, and rarely for weddings or school reunions. There just never seems to be enough time, money or energy.
I missed all the reunions from the elementary school in Stipa, from the secondary school in Zlin, and finally from the university in Brno. It wasn’t by my own choice. Thanks to modern technology, we could use Skype to communicate during our last elementary school reunion in 2011. However, it is not quite the same thing, as seeing your classmates in their true flesh and blood.
I always say that’s the price we pay for leaving the country where we were born, raised and went to school. We have left behind our living and dead relatives, a different culture and a way of life. Our family ancestors are buried at the local cemeteries, and usually we only get to see the inscription on their headstones.
I tried to recapture all that I have missed over the decades in a flurry of six days visiting the communities of my past: Zlin, Stipa, Vizovice, Kromeriz and Brno.
Kromeriz, UNESCO World Heritage Center.
I met up with my longtime university friend Eva Petrikova-Laurencikova in the beautiful city of Kromeriz on a rainy Saturday. All of my friendships have survived the revolution, the European Union, changes both in politics and economics, changes in careers and partners, as well as the distance across the Atlantic Ocean.
“Do you remember how we used to eat beer cheese in a cup with onions?” Eva asked.
I could not remember the beer cheese, but I did remember the smoked pork knee we used to order in cheap student joints that smelled of beer in Brno.
Here we were, 27 years after graduation; Eva with her two grown children, Emma and John, and me feasting on a smoked pork knee at Velky Orel (Big Eagle) restaurant located on the main Big Square in Kromeriz. Each friend that I managed to see again, wanted to showcase something from the towns where we used to hang out.
“They brew their own beer here,” Eva said.
A lot of the pubs in Czech Republic have jumped on the bandwagon of the microbrewery trend crafting their own spectrum of beers.
Inside Big Eagle restaurant, microbrewery.
We walked the cobblestone streets and squares in Kromeriz that has been designated as the UNESCO World Heritage Center protected for its historical value. Eva showed me the catholic school, where she teaches math. Interestingly enough, each one of us ended up doing something totally different than what we studied, that is construction engineering.
“Since I’ve overseen the construction of our summer house in Velke Losiny, I might go back into engineering,” Eva laughed. “You have to come and write from there. Losiny is a beautiful town with thermal springs close by.”
Flower Garden, part of the Archbishop’s Palace complex in Kromeriz.
We also toured the main grounds of the Archbishop Palace where some scenes from the film “Amadeus” and “Immortal Beloved” were shot. The Archbishop’s Palace boasts a unique arts collection including the prized painting by Venetian master Tiziano Vecelli. I remember when we wanted to go and audition for extras in the movie with my grandpa Joseph for 100 Czech crowns a day. Today, I wish we had. As always, I only regret the things I haven’t done.
As a special treat, we walked on top of the Flower Garden colonnade taking in the perfect symmetry of the gardens and the labyrinths below us.
It is said that if a person speaks at one end of the colonnade, the words echo clearly through to the other side.
I picked up a few long coveted deli items at the local Carrefour before we said goodbye, strangely enough at the parking lot by the cemetery since there is no parking along Lesenska Road in Stipa.
We sent butterfly kisses to each other; hardened by our past, discontent in the present, oblivious to the future.
For more information on Kromeriz go to www.mesto-kromeriz.cz. The info center is located at 50/45 Big Square in town. For more information on Czech Republic go to www. czechtourism.com
I embarked on this journey through my memories called “Greenwich Meridian where East meets West” on December 12, 2012 after being asked by many colleagues, friends and acquaintances to write our story. I have attempted several times to pen our immigration saga now spanning three generations. I saved evidence of such attempts like the personal essay, “Fire on Water.” I used the same title for my novel based on the communist experience from former Czechoslovakia. Some trace elements of the story can be found in a newspaper article about my naturalization as a U.S. citizen in 1999, “Lowell woman gets naturalized.” It was syndicated by the Associated Press and well received by the audience. I got phone calls from all over Michigan. Finally, I decided to pursue my lifelong dream of writing for the pleasure of others. Until recently I have been writing mostly for information capturing tragedies, disasters, events, politics and corrupt police chiefs or superintendents. However, my forte are human interest stories often about ordinary people doing unusual things either by their own will or against it. The memoir is a true work of creative non-fiction in which I combine real life exotic settings like Africa with real life people, who are either put in a bizarre situation or get into one by their own doings. Today, on this Mothers Day, I dedicate the book to my mother Ella Konecny who suffered the most in immigration because as Mr. Jan Skvor said at a Czechoslovak Conference for Arts and Science in Emigration in Horgen, Switzerland, 1970. “Immigration is not for missies.” For me immigration has been one of the toughest things I’ve ever done in my entire life. And that includes studying calculus, seeing my grandparents through their illness to the end and living by myself with two young children, so I could leave the country to join my husband. And now by writing about it, I am reliving it. But, I want to preserve some of the events, and to a certain point even history. I have no regrets. America has helped me realize my dream of writing. I would do it all over again. I have a Daruma doll used by Japanese businessmen for motivation and to stay on task. One of my former editors gave it to me when I was facing a tough project. When things are not going your way, you just knock it down. A little steel ball at the bottom makes it bounce back. You also color only one eye, and once the project is complete you color the other eye. So, Daruma has been watching me pounding away on my keyboard at early morning hours chapter after chapter.
“Life went by so fast,” said mom when we talked about immigration in Venice, Florida and at the Selby Gardens.
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