The Tourist Paradox

As an avid tourist, I always struggle with the same goal whenever I step out of the U.S.: what can I do here that doesn't make me feel like a tourist?

We all understand that there are two types of things to do in any given place. The things that tourists do and the things that locals do. Tourist activities include, going to museums, eating at over-priced and underwhelming restaurants, bartering for kitsch that you don't need, and of course, hanging out with other tourists.

Now figuring out what locals do is a little more elusive. You can thumb through the fine print of the latest edition of the Lonely Planet or grab a local nightlife daily , but generally this is a hopeless endeavor. The real way to get on the inside is to visit a local, and even then that has some major pitfalls.

My first night in Prague was luckily an immediate walk to the inside of local culture. A dear friend picked me up at the airport and we quickly readied ourselves for a Christmas party. I mean, you can't get any more local than a house party. Side-stepping the packed city center and all of its beautiful, breath-taking attractions, we went to the outskirts of town - the suburbs if you will.

Except the suburbs of Prague aren't like the suburbs in the States. They were created when the population of Prague doubled under Communism. So while the city center feels like a romantic European city, the outskirts are a heavy, hulking reminder that this place was once under Soviet control. The soul-less housing project is made up of several high-rise buildings that are identically built with incredibly functional and fully uninteresting cookie-cutter layouts inside. The type of construction where the sound of your heel echoes through the building and the walls are eerily cold and drab.

There was, however, a lot more warmth inside the apartment of this friend of a friends. They had splashed the walls with brilliant colors and decorated with IKEA-ish furniture trying to counteract the very nature of the apartment architecture itself. They filled my glass first with mulled wine (and later with mead), as it was a Christmas party after all. A variety of savoury and sweet snacks littered the table, my favorite being a puff pastry filled with sauerkraut and blue cheese. The apartment was also filled with American blues music - as with this being the second week of December - the guests had already overdosed on traditional Christmas fare.

So there I was, really doing it. First day out and I was in a decidedly non-tourist position. An early success!

But wait, the night had just begun. And the tragedy of the tourist paradox came to light: I don't speak any Czech, nor do I know anything about Czech pop culture. I sat silently for a bit, awkwardly smiling while I had no idea what was going on in the party conversations. Occasionally, someone would take pity on me and ask a few questions about my plans in Prague in halting English. This was usually followed by a generous recommendation - how about I visit so-and-so tourist attraction while I'm here. It can't be missed.