Postcard from the Czech Republic

Passing through Old Town Square during my first visit to Prague 21 years ago, I saw a man performing an open-air puppet show. In those pre-revolutionary days, such a display was meaningful to anyone with a taste for metaphor: it was one of the only ways Czechoslovaks could make a veiled public statement about their Soviet-occupied puppet state.

Today, the thought of puppets in Old Town Square - even satirical ones - seems almost quaint. Now it's Prague's elegant baroque facades that are 'occupied' - this time by storefronts for big fashion brands like Hugo Boss, Cartier diamonds and Gucci.

That's how some of the older generation might see it: freedom is one thing, while the free market is just another term for dictatorship of the dollar. That's why a good number of people who were small children during the Velvet Revolution hear their parents say life was better under the Communists. Crime was virtually non-existent - you certainly can't say that now - and the social safety net was much stronger.

But for the children of this revolution, it's enough to know the old days are over. At ease with the challenges of an open society, they're linked up, online, and making the most of their 21st century mobility. Many will take part in a march to retrace the footsteps of people who were students 20 years ago, for it was their demonstrations that emboldened the rest of the population to take part in a national strike.

The turnout was less a demonstration than a giant celebration of courage. For two hours on the afternoon of November 27, 1989, a million people gathered at Wenceslas Square to break the fearful silence that reigned for two decades after the 1968 Soviet invasion. As people jangled their keys in the air to symbolize an opening of doors, their fear made a most impressive exit, followed by the Communist leadership the next morning.

Twenty years later, entrepreneurship and globalization are firmly anchored in Prague's city center. Beyond the Irish pubs, Thai massage parlors, and the Crazy Cow Steakhouse, Prague's Central-European charm still makes you want to get lost in its winding streets, which draw millions of visitors every year.

During that first trip to Prague in 1988, I clandestinely recorded a dissident who asked me to take a document with me when I left. It was the only way he could inform people in the West about conditions in Czechoslovak prisons. On the train back to what was then West Germany, I was terrified of what might happen if the border guards searched my bags.

This time, as our train clacked along the tracks from the Czech Republic to Germany without interruption, it was worth remembering that fear for an instant - and knowing it is not part of the landscape of emotions in today's united Europe.

Author: Alexa Dvorson, Prague
Editor: Helen Seeney