“I thought about writing about ples, but I don’t know if I should.”
“Why wouldn’t you?” she asked.
“Well, it’d just be, like, ‘Ples: it’s like stužková, but different.’”
“You should explain how it's different from štuz--štužková.”
Therefore, I’m going to describe ples. Parts of this entry will be cribbed from the e-mail I wrote to a friend about the event. As my sagacious brother says, “Work smarter, not harder.”
We had our ples on Friday night. The complete and proper title for the event is školský ples, or school ball. A few students, attempting to use English terms, call it “prom,” but it’s quite different from American prom. At our school ples is organized by the student company, which is mostly fourth years. Some towns and villages are also having ples this weekend, so this is not something limited to the high school environment. Ours is in the cultural center next door to the school, in the same room where stužková is held. Like stužková, ples starts at 6 PM, and it is considered proper form for the teachers to leave only after the headmistress does, which is usually sometime around 1 AM.
Ples is less formal than stužková. It’s still a formal event, but it doesn’t have the sober coming-of-age aspect that stužková has; hence the program was less involved than at stužková. Ples began with a welcome and introduction, and the headmistress made a toast; after this there was a program. The entertainment consisted of three main elements: music, dance, and fire. Some of the fourth years played the piano, and there were also piano-and-saxophone duets featuring a fourth year’s younger brother on alto sax; and two younger students, a second year and a third year, sang “You Raise Me Up,” made famous by Josh Groban. Interspersed with these songs were dances performed by two ballroom-dance couples, one of whom is a third year. (His nickname is Bravík, which means something like “little pig.”) The finale was a performance of fire-twirling by two girls, neither of whom were students. It was cool and completely unexpected, so well done, student company. Around midnight there was a raffle, but that was the extent of the planned activities.
After the program there was dinner and dancing. The headmistress and her husband began the formal dancing, and then members of the company and other students joined in. Thankfully, I was not called upon to dance in this style. Style doesn’t enter into it when I’m dancing. The provision of music was split between a DJ and a band. Sadly, neither played any iteration of “Take Me Home, Country Roads” (which, if I didn’t mention this in my stužková post, was played in some form at both stužkovás and ples last year), but the DJ redeemed himself in the eyes of many by playing Donna Summer’s “Hot Stuff,” and, right before I left, my favorite ’90s Euro-dance song.
How is ples different from prom? Well, for one, this is February. No US high school would have prom in February. It’s rather slushy at the moment, and still fairly cold, though by no means as frigid as it was the week before last. For those of us who had to walk from our apartments to the cultural center and then back home, the walk was a bit of an adventure. I walked to my friends’ apartment halfway between mine and the cultural center wearing my hiking shoes and warm socks, and changed into my heels there to walk the rest of the way. By the time we left, the moisture on the road was frozen into a thin layer of ice. Imagine walking on an intermittently icy road in heels and a dress that you really don’t want to ruin at around 1:45 on a Saturday morning. It is as fun as it sounds.
Ples is also different in that attendance is not restricted to a particular class. There were first through fifth years there, as well as a handful of last year’s graduates. Dates were not required, but seemed encouraged; some students brought their non-EGT significant others. As at prom, they went all out in dressing up.
Another difference is in the way teachers and students interact at ples. At my senior prom long ago, teachers were there specifically as chaperones. We were guests, not chaperones. I guess the difference is that ples is for the whole school community, not just the students, the way prom is. On Friday night we talked and danced and took pictures with our students. It never would have crossed my mind to ask a teacher to dance with me--I think that would have been social suicide, and our teachers were probably prohibited from dancing with students. Our students happily invite their teachers to dance with them; in some cases they don’t just invite, but insist. I’m not being dismissive when I say that I believe this is a cultural difference. People still dance here.
Of course, people still get down with the get down here, too. As time passes, the DJ throws on more “disco” (that is, dance) music and less Strauss. Once again, it’s not just the kids who dance, but the teachers, too; and the students are not visibly mortified to see their teachers shake a tail feather. This is when they are most insistent that we dance. I haven’t figured out why students want me to disco. I suppose they think that if you’re sitting down, you’re not having fun. I like watching other people dance as much as or more than I like dancing myself.
This year I only made it until about 1:30 before I went home. As always, the party went on all night. One day I really am going to have to stay until morning. I had a lot of fun at ples. I think these things are easier when you’re no longer a teenager.
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