January 2011

My hotel in Prague, the Unitas at 9 Bartolomejska Street, was luxuriously comfortable, a warm haven from the bitter cold outdoors. My room was spacious, with sleek modernist furniture and an oversize bathroom with a huge soaking tub, and the staff was welcoming and friendly. I felt very lucky to be staying there. At check-out I learned that the site had been a convent from ca 1700 until 1950, at which time the Sisters were evicted and it became a headquarters for the secret police. An underground prison was built in the basement, and Vaclav Havel was imprisoned there several times; as President he gave an extensive interview in his cell for a documentary about his life. A staff member offered to give me a tour of the hidden cells, left untouched during the otherwise beautiful and extensive renovations of the last decade. The contrast between Havel’s cell—dank, dark, and infused with mold—and the luxurious accommodations upstairs was brutally stark. And the contrast between his experience there and mine profound. I was deeply humbled.