Dreaming of a White November

Krakow is one giant snowball. I know it is all fun and beauty now, but check back in a month or so and I'll let you know if I am still in love with this city. (Although, I think all signs look favorable...) Here are some more thoughts on how I am adjusting to the skies being either white with snow and clouds during the day or pitch black thanks to the 3 pm sunset.

It has been lightly snowing everyday for about the last week or more, but near to a foot of snow fell in about 12 hours yesterday. It was the light, fluffy stuff good for making snow angels, but that didn't stop a band of boys from the rival dorm across the street to come over and pelt Piast with a barrage of fluffy snowballs. Retaliation is in the planning stages, but those are the intimidatingly well-built students from the environmental engineering university. I don't think that a bunch of foreigners interested in poli sci and philology have much of a chance. "Hey guys, wait! - that is my good pocket protector! I'm staying out of this. Have I mentioned that I am part Swiss?"


For Luke:
Tom was out with his father, who was visiting Poland, but called me and told me to meet him in the Rynek so we could appreciate the Market Square dressed in its new winter glory. I had a peaceful walk to the tram stop. It was about 10 pm, so there weren't too many people at the stop. The air was all peaceful. However the entire time I had to keep brushing off the snow that stuck to my wool coat and stomping the snow off my boots. Eventually, with the impending arrival of the number 4, the stop attracted a few more people. The tram pulled up, everyone brushed themselves off one more time, and just before stepping into the train the group of guys in front of me took a moment to hit their shoes against the edge of the vehicle to break loose some stubborn snow. I smiled to myself at this because it reminded me of every winter day of my childhood when my father would say to Peter and I, "Click off your shoes to get into the car." I always treated that request as one of my dad's cleanliness-obsessed idiosyncrasies, and I would just roll my eyes when I heard it for the 1000th time. Those Polish guys last night and their snow-removing practicality was a reassuring sight. I felt at home.


For anyone else who is interested:
I can never stop from laughing at the people who use umbrellas for the snow. It's like, "Nice try, people, but snow has a tendency to swirl around and avoid that feeble nylon coverage. And you actually look kind of ridiculous."

I think this will be the fifth year in a row where I am living though in fierce winter weather without having to responsible for shoveling - yesssss. One point for me!

What's one stereotype about how the Slavs get through these subzero months? Of course with a little drink. I guess we officially welcomed in the start of the Polish winter when, while at a friend's dorm in Zaczek, her Russian neighbors came by and hospitably offered us some of their homemade honey lemon vodka. (I didn't think it was so bad, but one of my friends failed to show up at class the following morning as a result.) Having a glass of Russian/Polish moonshine in Krakow? Check. List of lifelong goals now only half as long.