Because Nothing Says "Easter" like The Whipping Stick.

We decided that the kids were ready for a Real Village Easter, so we packed up & headed to Dejvice on Saturday evening where we caught a bus bound for the village (or, as near to the village as the bus gets).  In the Czech Republic Easter is Monday, which left us Sunday for some village time (fresh air & work). We chipped/sawed/cut. The kids got to practice with beloved not-to-be-used-around-people weapons.  Build a structure. Play with fire. The important things.  

To prepare for Monday, they also dyed eggs & braided willow branches into switches, which were then adorned with ribbons.  Lily, as a girl, was initially not welcomed into the willow-switch club- but she was having none of that & ended up with the largest & most decorative switch of them all.

On Monday- after waking to American-style Easter baskets & an Easter egg hunt- some village boys & men (& a mother or daughter here & there) started coming around for the traditional "whipping" of the women & girls.  They were then given eggs & coffee or shots of alcohol for their troubles.  An obvious pagan spring awakening/ fertility ritual- sweet in its tradition, & yet, awkward & strange.

I missed the gathering of my family & our lavish brunch (& mimosas & Sees chocolates), but I was glad the kids were able to participate in a traditional Czech Easter- because, in the end, one really needs to experience it to (maybe someday) appreciate it.