Little Yurt on the Steppe

On the road to Cyberia I took a wrong turn and ended up on the Great Eastern Plains. Fortunately, a group of Khalkha nomads took me in and taught me the secrets of life on the steppe. Now, I sit in my yurt, eating mutton dumplings and drinking a weak milk tea as I recount my tales of this Mongolian life.

neděle, srpna 21

Things I could've done without

Riding back from the Bohemians match this evening, our tram got quite an unexpected and definitely unwelcome vocal performance.

A group of Americans -- who else? -- launched into an impromptu concert of various Christian worship songs. Ugh. Several on the tram reached for headphones and the rest of us envied those with the good fortune to have brought something to blot out the choir. One of my companions, a Dane, tried to reciprocate by starting a Bohemians chant, but it didn't catch on, so for several stops we had to endure the church choir.

Ugh. It was bad enough that Bohemians lost the match, and that we had stood for the second half in a steady rain, which made us quite soaked and a bit chilly by the time we boarded the tram. But the last thing I would've wished for was a reminder of what I'm "missing" by not being in the United States.

Nothing against persons of faith, but there's a difference between belonging to a faith and proclaiming it to anyone and everyone, the fellow believers and those who'd rather not be disturbed. Not to mention the attempts at proselytizing. It's quite inappropriate and rude to just horn in on someone with such a personal and potentially volatile issue. And still worse to be a captive audience when you have no escape.

It was just a little disappointing, because you generally don't get that in Europe. Especially here, in a country where the plurality religious affiliation is atheist, a nation that has been suspicious of organized religion for more than six centuries, where religion is relegated to its realm and where religion doesn't encroach on the secular. Normally.

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