I began reading the story of Petra Nemcova, a Czech supermodel, today. The book, titled Love Always, Petra, is one of the hardcovers which I got on bargain at the National Bookstore, chronicling Petra Nemcova’s journey from her early years in communist Czechoslovakia to the glamorous world of modelling in her teen years. The book is an autobiographical account which includes her near-death experience in the 2004 tsunami of Thailand, and how she lost the love of her life during the tragedy. I’m still a few chapters shy of finshing Mansfield Park, and although I’m all excitement reading about Mr. Crawford’s proposal to Fanny Price, curiosity got the better of me and I just had to read just a bit about Petra’s story. I never thought that I’d be hooked. So I’m putting Austen on hold for now, though I’m pretty sure not for very long.
Today I got holed up in my favorite cafe again, which has become some sort of secret place for me. I was meeting with a friend there, before heading off to the jogging tracks for a one-hour run, and then dinner someplace else. Because I wanted some alone time again and because I wanted to read Petra’s story in peace, I came a few minutes earlier, ordered a fruit smoothie, and got buried in the story not long after. My friend came a bit late complaining of the traffic, but I did not mind at all. Of course I was happy to see her, after a few months of not catching up, and it was all girls’ chitchat and laughter from then on.
But now I’m back to reading Petra’s story, and I admire the girl’s reslience, faith, and strength. We all seem to have the silly idea that most super models are shallow creatures. Petra however is something else. I had sensed this, even before finishing her story.