In the evening, we enjoy a Black Light theater performance. This is a theater genre that has been created and developed in Prague. It is unique, fascinating and funny. If you visit Prague, this is a must.
The evening is warm as we walk back to our apartment. Lots of people are out in the streets. Walking on the street stones of Dlouha Street, small street stones typical for Prague, another memory comes to my mind. A memory from the Jas Gripen activities back in the late 1990’s. We were to meet the President of the Czech Republic, Vaclav Havel.
We, all the twenty of us, gathered in a rather empty room adjoining the President’s office. No furniture in the room, just a microphone on a stand in a corner. We were served drinks. As we were standing there, sipping our drinks, Vaclav Havel entered the room. A rather small and thin man. Previously a heavy smoker. Only one lung left after lung cancer surgery. The hero of the Silk Revolution. The hero of the people. The first President of the free Czechoslovakia. He walked slowly straight up to the microphone. Someone introduced him.
He did not smile. He did not really look at us. A very serious man, I thought. Or was he shy? He took out a paper from his pocket and started to give a speech in English. I don’t really remember what he talked about. It was probably one of those polite speeches that was given to every foreign group of visitors to the President’s office.
Still no smile. Still no eye contact. No face movements. A soft low voice. The speech was monotonous. President Vaclav Havel seemed to be bored. No, bored is the wrong word. Depressed is a better word. A depressed President? No chance to ask questions after the presentation. After the speech, Peter Wallenberg and his companion Erik Belfrage went over to Vaclav Havel. Even though we were in the same room, I could not hear their discussion. But I watched Havel. Still no smile, no happiness in his face.
Then Vaclav Havel left. Someone announced that the President had left for the day. But we were free to visit his office in the next room. A rather dark room with dim lighting. Thick curtains in the windows. A big desk, rather empty except for some documents and books. Some photos in frames. Several telephones on the desk. On the side, a big Czech flag. Behind the desk there was a book case with books. On the walls, framed photos, some of them in black and white. I recognized a younger Vaclav Havel in many of them. Pictures from the Silk Revolution. Pictures from happier days.
I still wonder today… Vaclav Havel, Mr. President, why were you so depressed? Was it the fact that your health was giving way? Did you have personal problems? A lonely soul in the presidential palace? Or did you just have a lousy day like all of us have sometimes?
I shall never know the answer….