I realize that I am returning home with no concrete evidence I found the Golem in Prague. We can’t take away the mural we have done. Our plane to Germany leaves early morning. We wake up at 4 am. I am hesitant to leave this city without finding him. In one desperate attempt, I ask the Taxi driver that is taking us to the airport, “Where can I find something from the Golem?” He begins to laugh hysterically. “Oprah,” he tells me and keeps silent. “Oprah?” no doubt he thought I was joking with him. But his response was an interesting end to my trip here. My mother had told me that I will see things she never will and I have. But I have also seen a world not so uncommon to my own and to my mothers. I have seen the spirit of a people that despite communism, war and social tragedies survived. I have seen the old and the new remnants of a society, defiant to keep living. And in this I have remembered my own friends and family who live in exile in the United States. I remember friends who survived attempts at erasure of a history. I remember their homes destroyed or taken away. I remember their stories. And perhaps, the Oprah show is where a visual culture engages in an international discussion. The Golem lives because he is the embodiment of a society, of a world and of a future.