Geronimo and Vaclav Havel

If you're not sure what Geronimo and Vaclav Havel have in common, this is a clear sign that you have never been to the Trutnov Open-Air Music Festival, a.k.a. "The Woodstock of the Czech Republic". (No, really--it said so on my festival bracelet.)

This festival is one of Martin's favorite events of the year, so he decided that the "blazniva Americanka" (crazy American woman) needed to experience it as well. For those of you who have been reading this blog since the beginning, you know that I have been looking forward to this since the end of June. By the time that the festival weekend actually rolled around though, I was a little more nervous about the whole thing. I would be attending the festival with Martin and two of his friends (another Martin & Zbenik), and I was a little worried about my stamina for the dirt, crowds, pot smoke, and portable toilets, but I also knew I had to go. So, I packed a backpack, put on my Birkenstocks, took a deep breath (of clean, non-marijuana scented air) and headed out the door.

For Friday evening's festivities, we drove to Trutnov in Martin's Skoda, planning to return sometime after midnight. Trutnov is a city of about 30,000 people that is roughly 20 kilometers north and west of Hronov, in the foothills of the Krkonossky (Krakanosh Mountains). It sees two surges in population during the year--once for the music festival, which attracts about 20,000 people, and again throughout the winter as snow-sport enthusiasts come to recreate in the surrounding areas. Trutnov also has the, perhaps, dubious distinction of having been the seat of both the Nazi and Communist parties in this region. During World War II, Trutnov's main square was renamed "Adolf Hitlerplatz" (apparently this happened in many communities during the war, though). Trutnov is also home to the legend of Krakonos, for which the local brewery is named. In other words, for being a relatively small community, there's a lot going on in Trutnov.


The main square in Trutnov--the German names are still visible on some of the store fronts.


Me and the statue of Krakanos--the mythical spirit-man of the neighboring mountains, as well as mascot of the local brewery.


The festival grounds were in a large city park that had an outdoor ampitheatre which served as the main stage. There were two additional stages set up at other locations, as well as a small city of food booths (much like at a state or county fair--row upon row of tented booths selling all the fried and/or greasy food you could possibly want), as well as Gambrinus beer booths about every ten feet. Above the main stage, sort of back in some trees, was the hare krishna village and Native American tee-pee (or "Natural lifestyle" area), as well as another section of booths featuring food, crafts, and advocates for various political and social issues. The most interesting of these for me were the two booths that represented the two sides of the debate in the Czech Republic over the U.S. proposal to build a radar station for missile defense just south of Prague. (The vast majority of Czechs are opposed to this, by the way. I'll talk more about this when I discuss my visit to the U.S. embassy in Prague.)

For the second day of the festival, we left Hronov early Saturday morning and parked our stuff at the pensione we would stay in for the night. Martin gave me a guided tour of the city center, and then the boys decided we needed to get "supplies" before we entered the festival grounds. This might be a good time to mention that cola mixed with red wine is a very popular drink in the Czech Republic. To save money on drinks, the boys wanted to carry in some bottles of "pre-mixed" beverages. Thus we had a bottle of rum and Coke (very heavy on the rum), and a bottle of Pepsi Max mixed with cheap red wine. Mmmmm. Needless to say, I mostly stuck to the ubiquitous Gambrinus beer. However, as a side note, I did have my first mojito ever at the festival, and can now report that mojitos are pretty much the only mixed drink you can find in this country.


Here are the boys, hard at work at their "mixology".


Of course, the whole point of going to the festival is the music--and while most of the bands were unfamiliar to me, I did have some interesting experiences. Martin made a point of taking me to see important Czech folk singers and/or musicians known for their protest music during the communist era. As a result, I got to see the Plastic People of the Universe, who Tom Stoppard wrote about in his play "Rock & Roll", as well as some other Czech artists such as Petr Vasla (who is also a "physical poet" in addition to being a musician) and Vaclav Koubek. However, the highlight of the festival for me was the appearance of Vaclav Havel on the main stage Saturday night. Since this year's festival was dedicated to him, he was "crowned" with a floor-length head-dress that a Sioux Chief would have been proud to wear; however, he has appeared at every Trutnov festival since it began and is sort of it's real-life mascot, along with Geronimo of course.



One of the many bands playing at the main stage--although the crowd is maybe a more interesting element in this photo.



Yet another of my terrible photos, but that fuzzy guy in the center of the stage is Vaclav Havel!


One of the random details of the festival was that, to encourage recycling of the plastic pint cups, there was a booth where you could turn them in and get cash back--basically, 12 cups bought you a free beer. So, many enterprising young people probably got all of their beer for free by being like the guy in the following photo
and collecting empty cups all weekend. I was happy to donate to the cause, and pay for my own beer.




It was an interesting place, and I'm glad I went; however, I was also really glad to get home and take a shower. I'm not exactly the poster child for the counter-culture, what can I say?

I almost forgot!
Today's Czech Minute!
Long hair on men is still pretty popular here amongst the Czechs, but being in Trutnov was also like being at a celebration for human hair. I think I saw everything, including many variations on the dreadlock theme. (I think dreads are just required at a certain stage of a person's exploration of counter-culture/eastern philosophy/reggae-inspired marijuana use.) The best version of dreads, though--hands down--was the dread-mullet that I saw on several men: short on top, but dreadlocks down the back. Dude, that is SWEET hair . . .