Jste Sledovani (You are Being Watched)

Jste Sledováni
WC 284

The sign was posted to the right of the footpath. It looked official.

JSTE SLEDOVÁNI

Traveling in a Communist country in 1986 was unnerving; if you broke a law you went to jail and might never be heard from again.

"Any clue, Bill?" I asked my husband.

"It looks like the name of an Olympic ice skater or a Soviet spy," he joked.

"So what should we do, Bill?"

At our ripe old age, I knew we wouldn’t survive incarceration, but I really wanted to hit the trail.

"It probably says, DON’T LITTER."

"Okay, we won't."

We took off down the circular path. It was the freest I had felt since we arrived in Czechoslovakia a week earlier. It was nice to be alone with my husband—without Mirous, our guide, watching our every move.

As we walked, we spoke freely about the horrors of Communism and the deprivations the citizens must live with. We knocked the Soviet regime big time. Bill made some tasteless Commie jokes.

Mirous was waiting for us at the trailhead.

"What does Jste Sledováni mean?" I asked, pointing to the sign.

"You are Being Watched,” he said in broken English. “I hope you didn't pick flowers or litter."

“No. neither one," I said.

Then Bill chimed in. " Good thing they weren't recording audio. We really tore apart the Soviet Union."

The last thing I remember--before passing out--was Mirous saying in broken English, “They were recording audio."

I didn't hear him say, "Only kidding!", but Bill clued me in when I finally came to.

Bill and I landed safely in America the following week. It was so good to be home. So good to be home.