Berkley Center

“Men to the left…because women are always right.” The black vinyl decal is plastered on the wall of the gym I recently joined in Prague, directing the men and women in separate directions toward their respective locker rooms. The phrase is bold, something much more Westernized than I would expect given what I have encountered so far in the Czech Republic. Yesterday was my first day at the gym, and I was clad from head to toe in long black spandex and a blue short-sleeve shirt, so I blended in. Only my broken Czech interspersed with long bursts of English marked me as a foreigner. And in Prague, being a foreigner makes you a target—for stares and catcalling, sometimes worse.

I’ve noticed that no one in Prague likes to show their legs. Or rather, it seems as though no women want to show their legs. Not in the gym, not even outside—not a single local woman I have seen thus far has borne bare legs. I asked my Czech roommate about what I had observed in the gym and on the street. She said, “It doesn’t matter. Wear shorts for yourself. Everyone will stare and know you are American.”

A few days ago, I wore a skirt in the Prague heatwave and noticed that all of the locals wearing skirts had some form of leggings or tights on underneath. As dusk settled, I walked with friends back to my apartment, and a stocky six-foot-tall man was leaning against the wall outside of our building. Even though I didn’t understand the words he was using, I recognized the universal phenomenon of catcalling in his tone of voice as well as the feelings of disgust it caused me. 

On my second day at the gym, I had to make a choice. It was seventy degrees out, much too hot for leggings. So, I could either wear shorts and have a more comfortable, functional workout but be stared at, or wear leggings and overheat but avoid the curious Czech glances. I decided to work out in shorts. I was nervous to say the least, feeling the stares as I ambled into the gym. 

Eye contact between people of opposite genders involves a new set of social norms that impacts my behavior in Prague. Eye contact is meaningful to me. Eye contact tells me everything I need to know about a person—whether they are easily intimidated, headstrong, or confident. Back in DC, I’m used to holding a deep stare when met by the male gaze, eyes squinted, and mouth curled into the slightest bit of a frown, until the guy, intimidated, breaks eye contact. Here in Prague, making any sort of long-term eye contact with a man is perceived as an invitation. In a club, eye contact means that it’s okay for them to come over, start buying you drinks, and chat with you. On the streets at night, eye contact has even worse implications—the Czech men will approach you and follow you home. When I’m walking alone in Prague, I break a glance with men rapidly—the quicker the better. In this new culture, it is crazy to think about how what in the United States would be considered an innocent action is taken to mean so much more. And, what would be considered a vile behavior in the United States is accepted as the norm here. My Czech roommate remarked, “Nothing can really be done. You just have to do your business quickly. Walk away, walk faster. Whatever it takes.” 

With all this being said, Prague is generally a safe place, or at least less offensive during the day. My workout in shorts was much more comfortable, and after a few minutes, no one seemed to care. To be honest, I will probably continue to work out in shorts until winter comes because I think there are some gaps between Czech and American culture that need to be bridged. I can’t be totally sure, but maybe the women here dress more modestly so that they won’t be approached or catcalled. Adjusting to these social norms—to not stare, to not wear shorts, among others—is going to take some time.