This week, I was excited to begin writing a two-part column on Czech sports. Going into the morning of Monday, Oct. 17, I was a carefree American student in Prague, excited about the hockey game I had just been to and the soccer game I'd be going to the following night.
But due to a somewhat comical, highly enraging series of events that started to unfold on Sunday, that sports column has to wait. It has to wait because 300,000 newspaper-reading members of the Czech Republic now really, really hate my guts. I will elaborate.
If there are any loyal readers of this column (I can hope, can't I? I mean, someone has to have a boring lecture on Wednesday morning), they might remember last week's column entitled "The land of sour Skittles."
In this article I raised the fact that to many foreigners, Czechs can seem quite cold and rude. I said that after a month in this country, I could see why this might be the case. I made specific mention of restaurant service and how the attitude is totally different than in the United States, where "the customer is always right." I used the word grumpy and referred to Czechs as "sour Skittles." Hence the title.
However, I went on to write that "rude was probably the wrong word." I wrote, "reserved might be [a] better [word]," and that "once you get to know Czechs, they're as friendly as everyone else." I also offered up one possible explanation: years of repressive totalitarian Communist rule had a psychological effect on the entire Czech nation. I think most readers would agree this was the main point of the column.
Generally the article was very tongue-in-cheek and sarcastic, as I can be sometimes in this space. I hope American readers understood the how lighthearted this article was meant to be. After all, I closed by complaining about my ill fate with Czech girls - how serious could I have been?
That sets the stage for Monday morning. I walked into class to hear my RA tell me that I had been quoted in an article entitled [translated], "Tourists come to Prague for sex, beer and sights," that appeared in Sunday's edition of the Czech newspaper Pravo, written by a woman named Lenka Hlouskova.
Pravo is one of the top Czech newspapers. It has a circulation of over 300,000 copies and a reputation for solid journalism. My RA sounded pretty surprised by me. You'll see why in a moment.
The second two paragraphs of the article quote me as if I had spoken to Hlouskova using the phrase "David said," and implying a conversation or interview had taken place between me and the reporter. Let me vigorously point out that I have never met Hlouskova/p>
She wrote that I believe Czechs who work in restaurants are rude, grumpy and do not speak English. I was, however, particularly impressed by the fact that they liked Americans more than other Europeans do, mainly because we kicked out the Communists for them. According to the article by Hlouskova attribute all this grumpiness to the social situation that has been in place since the [democratic] revolution of 1989.
Wow. Take a moment to compare that to the summary I gave above. If you don't believe me, take a look at the original article - it's archived on the Daily's Web site.
I'm torn here. On the one hand, a reporter from a major Czech newspaper read my column, which I guess is sort of flattering. Something, however, went seriously, seriously awry with the translation - most notably the entire message of my column, as well as about 19 billion other things.
Flattered though I am, the article she wrote was inaccurate and unprofessional by any journalistic standard. It spun my words out of context, and occasionally even created some for me, and then put them all within the most sacred of journalistic tools, the quotation marks.
Craziest of all is that Hlouskova's article sounds as if we had actually spoken to one another, and that she had not just read my column online.
Meanwhile, any Czechs who read the article now think that one David Pomerantz is the worst America has to offer. At the bottom of the Internet version of the Pravo article - oh yes, it's online as well - there's a place where readers can post feedback.
One actually wrote "If you want to help me kick the s-t out of this Pomerantz guy, click here." Twenty-five people had clicked by the end of the day. You can't make this stuff up.
Ultimately, it seems the reporter wanted to write a very specific story about arrogant and misguided American tourists. She did not, however, take the time to actually interview such a tourist. Instead, she probably did something with which all college students can identify. I can't be sure of this, but I suspect that she Googled.
Try it for yourself. Enter the words "Prague" "rude" and "American" and my column is one of first results shown. Slice it and dice it, add a little mistranslation and you've got yourself an arrogant American complaining about rude Czechs.
Unfortunately, Hlouskova's sloppy journalism is demonstrative of some of the problems the 16-years-young Czech media system is struggling with. American readers, however, shouldn't feel immune. Remember Jayson Blair of the New York Times? What about Stephen Glass of The New Republic? The list goes on and on.
I've contacted Pravo to complain and ask for a printed correction, although I doubt anything will come of this. I have learned at least one lesson from the experience: how humiliating and miserable it can be to be misquoted. I hope it's a lesson I'll remember if I ever become a journalist.
Oh, and forget about those sports columns I was planning on writing. I'll be hiding out in the Czech countryside from the (at least) 25 Czechs out to "kick the s-t out of Pomerantz." If this space is blank next week, call the American Embassy.
