Local Hispanophiles will from now on have a much harder time finding excuses for not speaking excellent Spanish. Years after the British Council, Goethe Institut and Institut Francais have made their homes in Prague, the Spanish cultural and linguistic center Instituto Cervantes has finally arrived. Along with offering language courses and the services of an extensive library, the institute will be organizing art exhibitions, lectures and film screenings.

The new facility opened with a flourish Sept. 13 in the presence of Spanish royal family members Prince Felipe and Princess Letizia. Czech politicians including Prime Minister Jiří Paroubek, Foreign Minister Cyril Svoboda and former President Václav Havel also attended.

According to Instituto Cervantes Director Inaki Abad Leguina, local interest has been strong since the institute opened. "Spanish culture is now quite trendy here," he says. "About 250,000 Czechs visit Spain every year. They come for the sun, the wine and the good food. But they take away some of the culture with them, too."

The institute, as Abad Leguina is quick to point out, doesn't just represent European Spanish culture, but Latin American culture as well. Which makes sense when you consider that of the 400 million native Spanish speakers in the world, those living in Spain form only a small fraction. As the number of Spanish speakers grows, so does the popularity of the language. "Spanish used to be considered an exotic language," notes Abad Leguina. "Now it's the second most commonly spoken language after English." As a result, Hispanic culture — be it Argentinian telenovelas or avant-garde Mexican films — is also gaining ground. Anežka Charvátová, translator and adjunct professor at the Institute of Romance Studies at Charles University, agrees. "This fascination with Spanish culture is a trend that has been around for a while [in Western countries], and I think that Czechs have finally caught on," she says.

Given all that, why has it taken so long for the Instituto Cervantes, which was established in 1991, to come to Prague? "We really wanted to take the time to find a good central location and a nice building," says Abad Leguina. "It was a process of maturation."

It seems the long wait was worth it. Nestled on a quiet, narrow lane not far from Wenceslas Square, the building is a combination of the old and the modern, with concrete, blond wood and glass interiors. Its big windows overlook the spires of St. Stephen's Church and the surrounding historic buildings. It's a perfect metaphor for Spanish culture today, says Abad Leguina. "Spanish is an old language," he says. "It has lived through some very tragic moments, but it's also very dynamic and it's constantly evolving."

Aside from lecture halls and a 98-seat screening room where audiences can see films by young Latin American directors this fall, the institute also has a gallery on the main floor. The current exhibition, "En las fronteras" (In Borderlines), features a selection of digital and video art, photographs and paintings by young Spanish artists. The idea is to show different ways of understanding the concept of boundaries, be they social, linguistic or geographic.

But the biggest attraction of the institute will probably be its library, named after Mexican writer Carlos Fuentes. With a collection of 10,000 books, it will open to the public in January. In addition to Spanish and Latin American authors, there are also Czech writers translated into Spanish. Among them: Bohumil Hrabal, Milan Kundera and Jaroslav Hašek.

According to Abad Leguina, many Czech authors have universal appeal: "There is a little bit of Hrabal and Kafka in all of us," he says. But Institute librarian Alberto Antolin notes that the Spanish seem especially receptive to some of the better-known Czech writers, such as Hašek. "Spanish people understand Czech humor, which tends to be very dark," says Antolin. "They appreciate its picaresque quality."

Charvátová speculates that the appreciation of black humor the Spanish share with Czechs has something to do with the fact that both nations experienced life under oppressive regimes. "Totalitarianism tends to foster an appreciation of the absurd and to cultivate covert ways of expressing yourself, using cynicism and double-entendres," she says. According to Charvátová, it's no coincidence that absurdist theater flourished in both countries around the same time in the 1960s.