no. explanation.

Happy New Year!

Success!

Ahh Sunday once again.

I spent last night and a very lazy today day with Annie while she is house/dog/cousin-sitting in a northern Chicago suburb. While I missed DreamHome, it was nice to be in a real, lived in home. But the real reason I am writing is to post an update on the baking project. Friday night, thanks to the wisdom of Teany, I made vegan petit fours. Yum. And easy. Yesterday, Annie and I took a baking break to eat some of the past project and still some Thanksgiving leftovers. We did bake our own pizzas from scratch, however. That could count, right? This morning, to cap off our anniversary of the Klobouky Mikulašska jarmek, Annie whipped up a batch of pani dough. Fueled by slivovice, naturally, we braided, rolled, and baked some nice little angels, mermaids, devils, birds, and other strange yet vaguely traditional shapes. Happy Saint Nicholas Day!!

Sunday is becoming my favoritest day

How did November just slip away? I'm glad to get one more post in here, so it looks like I'm not totally ignoring my blog. I know how I keep saying that I should update about all the less obvious things and changes happening in my life, but I'm not sure what keeps me from it. A full time job may have something to do with it, but that's mostly just an excuse. Home alone on a Sunday night is the perfect opportunity to catch up with my thoughts.

This last weekend in November coincided with Thanksgiving this year. I had a lovely time for at least three reasons: the bank gave me a freaking 20 lb. turkey, my kitchen successfully brined and cooked that bird and many other Thanksgiving staples, and my family was all under one roof for the first time in months. That last point felt nice. Of course there were the expected stresses, but having my own place provided a nice escape. Whenever people come to visit me, I often feel responsible for showing them fun things and places to go, so the fact that parents and brother had a good time is contributing to my contentment. Oh, and also, my brother and I again fulfilled our tradition of going on an adventure for Polish food when he comes to visit me for Thanksgiving. 2003 was a little deli in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. This year was an all-you-can eat buffet on Milwaukee Ave, the "Red Apple" or "Czerwone Jabluszko" Restaurant. (The cooks from that restaurant came to do the pierogi demonstration that I went to a few weeks ago at the Polish Museum of Chicago. Seriously, best pierogi in my life. No joke.)

*I just need to mention -by way of praising my culinary mastery- that this Thanksgiving meal was brought to you by Cafe Brenda, Alton Brown, Better Homes & Gardens, the Polish deli on Cicero Ave, Stanley's Produce Market, and my parents for providing supplemental cookware and cutlery. Julius Meinl stepped in with a fabulous Black Friday brunch, Vienna style. Oh for cafe melange.*

Another thing that has been on my mind is that of my body. I'm sure I have mentioned how living with Annie is like a crash course in physical self-awareness, but I've become aware (or at least more aware) of some new sensations lately. First off, I have been physical in different ways than I am used to. It began with my women's running group. I go once a week to run along the lake shore trail. Now, after training last winter for the Warsaw Halfmarathon, distance running through the cold is nothing I haven't done before, but running here has given me knee pain. It began with my worn out Asics, but I also have IT band and tight quad issues. And I'm only running about 5 miles once a week. What's the deal with that? And biking. I'm doing a lot of biking. The simple act of commuting puts about 10 miles to my legs each day. I'm sure the biking is what has increased my stamina for running -- I can easily do 6 miles now!-- but I'm sure it is also what's making my shoulders and lower back constantly sore. If I get a decent Christmas bonus from the bank, it's going towards a nice massage. Maybe I'll have some cash leftover for a session at the Russian baths, complete with a beating of oak branches. (Subsequently I have invested in -and brought back from the depths of my closet for use, finally- some nice pieces of clothes for winter training.) And today being Sunday, I took advantage of the free yoga class at a studio in my neighborhood. After one simple session, I can be sore for days after, but it is one of those good sore, happy sore feelings. Yoga is one of those things that can blend pleasure and pain so wonderfully to make my body feel balanced. And though all this, I have been on a trial of birth control for to try and ameliorate a rogue ovary. I've actually enjoyed the regularity of my cycle, and I have been experienced significantly less of the associated pain. Shall I continue with the abnormal hormonal levels? And should I have shared all this here? Hmmm...

One final thing that nearly ruined my near perfect holiday weekend: the "Sex and the City" movie. Worst thing ever. Gimme "The Dark Knight" for three bucks at the Logan Theater any day over an excruciating Netflix pick. Next up on the queue, an Argentine flick about the war for the Falklands/Malvinas. Next week should be a good one.

Thanks for making through these digressions.

Along with sending down the Holy Spirit, God decreed that all Polish grocery stores should be closed as part of the Pentacost experience

Wydarzenia (Events)

So very much has been going on in recent weeks, beginning even before the epic Lwów adventure.

First: Kraków had a gay rights march. That's pretty impressive for a city that is a hot-seat for Catholicism (i.e. conservatism). I mean, it was officially called a "Tolerance March," I guess so as not to push the envelope too far. [I heard that the march was even canceled in Warsaw in years past, to give you an illustration of the opposing side's influence.] But I was really surprised with how many people turned out for this march and equally surprised with the festive atmosphere surrounding it. The organizers passed out balloons, stickers, and whistles. Of course there were scary police guys with scary guns and in full riot gear, who escorted us all along the Planty and into the Rynek. And of course there were scary neo-Nazi-types waiting for us and shouting things at us once in the Rynek. Yeah, they were pretty lame, but like I said, there was no large-scale violence or out-of-control protests from either side. I'd call it a success, but I'm sure that no equal rights legislation or anything will come out of it. It was still a nice, socially-aware way to spend a Saturday morning.

Second: I'm gettin' around. The day after the tolerance march, I went to visit a friend in Tarnów - a British guy who used to study with me in Kraków before he decided that the 1.5 hour one-way commute wasn't really worth it. Tarnów is a nice little city, charming even, worth a walk around if you get bit by the travel bug and just need to get out of town for an afternoon. One of Tarnów's biggest attractions is that it is the final resting place of Hungarian and Polish freedom fighter, Józef Bem. It always comes back to those Hungarians...

Third: Ukraine. Enough said.

Fourth: I have a new roommate. Timea is an ethnic Hungarian (again - see!) who lives in Romania. This is an interesting situation specific to Eastern Europe. Hungary used to be a HUGE empire, and their people lived all over. Now that the country is slightly larger than the state of Maine, it's legacy is bigger than it's area. Anyway, enough Hungarian history; I can certainly tell you more when I see you. It's enough to say that Timea is a complete 180º turn from Isabelle.

Fifth: Juwenalia. Ojej. All across Poland in the spring there is a festival for students. In Kraków, there are concerts, parties, and revelry of all kinds during an entire week. But the major event was the parade on Friday morning from the student village (near where I live) to the main square, where then the keys of the city are symbolically handed over to a student government for the day. Sounds like a nice tradition, right? Costumes, nice spring weather, everyone good spirits, etc... But really, like any real student celebration, it's about the booze. Combine any American college homecoming with Mardis Gras and have it sponsored by one of Poland's largest breweries, and there you have Juwenalia.

Large, drunken crowds of twentysomethings generally don't interest me, so I stayed clear of much of it. The overall festive mood was nice, and my friends and I celebrated in our own small ways (booze was inevitably included). My only real regret though is that I missed witnessing the parade first-hand. I went out on Thursday night, staggered home at 3, woke up late and had to rush to a choir performance at 10:00, and then went back to bed to keep sleeping off the night. Therefore, I was out of commission for most of Friday. Good one, Sarah.

Sixth: As this post's title mentions, Pentecost is a big deal in Poland. At first I had only heard the name of this holy day in Polish, "Ziolone Świąt", and it didn't ring any bells. (Even when I called my mother and asked what feast day it was, she didn't know. We're good Catholics...) Anyway, there's always a big procession, where all the nuns and monks come out to play in their different team colors: The Paulinites in white, the Benedictines in black, the Franciscans in brown, some sisters in blue, etc.

I later learned that the reason for extending the hullabaloo into the economic sector (meaning store closings) was that France gave its shop assistants the day off, and if such a secular country like France recognizes Pentacost Sunday, then Poland should get on that boat as well. The American restaurant inside the Galeria Kazimierz (big shopping mall) was still open, though. God Bless America.

Seventh: I am already checked out of school. It always seems to happen at this time of year no matter where you are. It probably doesn't help any feelings of studiousness when your class keeps going on field trips away from Kraków. That you can't get everywhere. ;)

Lastly: My ancestry search will happen next week, thanks to Corpus Christi, which gives us yet another long weekend. Kashubia here I come!

Over and out for now.

Yesterday

Three things of note occurred on my Easter Monday:

1. The Rudniks left Poland for the Czech Republic. It was so, so, so nice to have them here, especially over the Easter holiday. Originally, they were to come to Europe on an "Annie's Greatest Hits"-type tour and have her as their guide. Even though it didn't quite work out that way, I give them major props for making the trip anyway.

They arrived on the Saturday I got back from Budapest, and we miraculously met up outside the station. I think it was a good omen indicating an auspicious trip. I've got my fingers crossed that they actually made it to Valašské Klobouky by now...

I hope they had a good time and felt like they saw enough of the city. What was nice is that I haven't been inside all of the Wawel Castle or explored the Kazimierz neighborhood, but being with them it was a great opportunity to get around town. And, of course, we explored the Easter market on the Rynek, meandered around Old Town, heard the trumpeter about two dozen times, went to Easter Sunday mass at the Kościół Mariacki, and ate some great meals. (I was especially grateful for their invitations because even the grocery stores were closed for Easter and the days before and after.) I also did my best to introduce them to the more outstanding drinks this region has to offer. Within 12 hours of their arrival, they got a taste of Żywiec beer, krupnik (honey vodka), Żubrówka (bison grass vodka), and even some Hungarian peach pálinka (kind of like vodka). The quote of the weekend belongs to Mrs. R upon her first taste of Żubrówka and apple juice: "This is delicious! This is like breakfast juice... only better!" Thatta girl, Mrs. R!


2. Easter Monday a.k.a. Lany Poniedzałek a.k.a. Śmygus-Dingus
I'm not sure what kind of ancient tradition this day is related to, but throughout Eastern Europe it is an Easter Monday tradition for boys to throw water on girls. I've heard it is supposed to represent a cleaning, purification ritual, but if you ask me, it's sounds like its origins aren't altogether Catholic. No matter, besides from the snowy/rainy precipitation, my Lany Poniedzałek was a dry one.


3. Less than one week to my half-marathon. Yesterday I went to the gym to run so I could keep track of my time and distance on the treadmill. 10k is no sweat, so running one half and run-walking the second half, I can finish in less than 2:30. I think I am ready. (I better be ready because I bought my train ticket to Warsaw yesterday as well.)

Catholisicm and the Middle Age Imagination

Someone way back when, in Poland's olden days, thought they knew what palms were. They read in the Bible about Jesus' arrival into Jerusalem and figured that palms must have been really special and beautiful things to have been brought to welcome him. As if anyone at that time in Poland knew what palm trees really looked like... So they came up with these:



Explanation: Today my school went on a field trip to Lipnica Murowane, a town near Kraków where every year there is a famous contest for the best palma wielkanocna, or Easter palm. Most people there were walking around with palms maybe a foot or two long, but as you can see, the biggest of them reached past the treetops. Multi-colored dried leaves, crepe paper flowers, ribbons, pussywillows, other feathery plants. They are quite a sight to behold. Not to mention quite baffling as to how exactly the are supposed to resemble palms. I see elaborate brooms...

Anyway, a few other sights of note were in this little town. First we saw a 12th-century church that has been named a UNESCO World Heritage Sight. It still appears to be in great condition, but gosh does it smell old. Then we went to another church named for St. Sebastian of Lipnica, where they have a some sort of bone relic of his AND a water pump that supposedly has curing waters. I am not totally convinced of the latter because after drinking, I still have a terrible stomach ache... Next, we were waiting for the contest to begin, but of course their was first a blessing of the palms. What Palm Sunday would be complete without a some holy water being launched over a crowd.

Then, what was to be a culminating moment, the raising of an enormous palm into the air, came to a tragic end. A group of us had been watching nearly all morning as men in the trees and on the rooftops lashed ropes to the trunk of the palm and fastened them to the nearest telephone pole and houses. This palm had to be at least 20 meters tall or more. The lashing done, the men began to hoist, and just as the palm was at about 45 degrees, the top half snapped off. The whole thing had to be lowered back to the ground like a soldier laid to rest. It was so dramatic.

And that was what I woke up at 7 am on a Sunday morning for. It was nice though. Good weather, good company, a bit of sightseeing, some local food and a blessed beverage. Why not?


In case you'd like to see some more "palms," you can take a look here.

See you in a week, Rudniks!

Two Lovely Weekends

#1:

My dad came to visit! I will add more about this later, once he sends me pictures that we took. But for now I'll just say that I am really happy that for the first time in 27 years my dad set foot outside the North American continent. He was really open to Poland, and I think a visit this short allowed him to see everything in a positive light and not be bothered by the occasional difficulties of trying to live here.

Of course I was also happy for him to come for the reason that we would get to do some cool stuff in cool places, the first of which was a brewery tour right outside of Wrocław. A few years ago father-son team from Winona, MN bought a 600-year-old brewery in a town called Namysłów. From the looks of it nowadays, it seems to be doing good business. It was great to make a hometown connection halfway across the world like this. Ryan, the son, was incredibly nice and hospitable and generous and all kinds of superlatives that describe a good person.

Wrocław itself was nice too. It is a town I think I could get used to. It has a more cosmopolitan feel than Kraków, but I'm not sure why I felt that. Maybe it was because we stayed in the Radisson...

My dad and I also made a stop in Częstochowa, he made the trip to Auschwitz while I had class, and then we popped over to London for two days so he could spokojnie catch his plane back to the States. Oh, the jet-setting lifestyle I lead. Right.

In London, to contrast my ever-cloudy Poland, the weather was fantastic. And I was glad I elected to skip even more class to join him there (believe me, I really was conflicted). I got to do some things that I didn't get have time for in November. Dad loved London as well. He is pretty brave, I'd say, for such a homebody.

Good times. I already said a lot, didn't I?

..................

#2

When I came back from London I had a play at the Teatr Słowackiego to look forward to. Adam had invited me a while ago to go with a group of his friends to a performance there, and why would I say no? The building is reminiscent of some grand French opera house, and I have always wondered what it would be like inside.

My first Krakow theater experience was, well, an experience. As you may have guessed, the theater itself was in fact gorgeous. The inside is so ornate and perfectly preserved. The main sala wasn't so huge, which was good for viewing. And all 14 of us sat in boxes on one side of the room. I don't think I have ever been in theater boxes before. It was just like you'd see in old movies or in books: only four seats to a box, a door that opens directly to the corridor, and red velvet everywhere. I would even go so far as to say it was downright luxurious. In the midst of all that 19th century Eastern European splendor I felt like I was in that scene from War & Peace where Pierre first sees Natasha.

The play itself was... interesting. "Kordian" by Juliusz Słowacki himself. I could appreciate that the actors were outstanding and that the staging was superb, but that was about it. Which is to say that I could understand a darn thing. Ask me what the play was about and I'll just shrug. And try finding anything about online in English! Basically, it is a 19th-century work about Poland under Russian occupation, and there was a young Romantic hero, who dies in the end... I think... But I shouldn't feel bad because Adam and all of his friends couldn't understand it either. One of them even used the intermission to look up some kind of Polish cliff notes on his phone. Then again, they are all chemical engineers and not lit majors. ;)

I mentioned that there were 14 of us. 7 guys and 7 girls. Everyone was in a legitimate boyfriend/girlfriend pair. Except for Adam and I. Yet again I got to assume the role of the girl who isn't my escort's girlfriend but who puzzles the others present as to what my relationship to said escort really is. At least here in Europe, I pretend that I am one of those Daisy Miller-esque American girls, and that is all the explanation I need to provide. I was the only one dressed in a color on the warm side of the color wheel, after all.

Utter incomprehension and initial social awkwardness aside, I had a great time. And, it turned out that March 8th is "Dzien Kobiet" in Poland, or "Women's Day." Adam explained to me that it began as a Soviet holiday where the authorities would go into the factories and present all of the ladies with flowers. However, I remember that about this time of year there was a "Día de la Mujer" in Argentine. Ah well. Nonetheless, yesterday nearly every girl you saw on the street was carrying a stem of some kind of flower. I wasn't left out. Adam met me at Piast with some pink carnations, goździki, which is the traditional Dzien Kobiet flower, I guess. For me, I'd say it's a nice tradition.

[Side Note: There are still some very strong traces of gallantry such the flowers on Dzien Kobiet among the young gents of this country. At first when we all took our seats, I wondered why Adam chose to sit behind me rather than next to me (where it would be easier for me to whisper my questions about the play to him), but then I noticed that all the guys sat behind the girls so we could have the better view. It was just the assumed practice. Hmmm.]

Red dress, red shoes. That's me. ;)


And that was just my day yesterday. Today, the sunny London weather made it over to Poland, and it would have been utterly unacceptable to stay indoors. Therefore, I went with a few of my friends to the Krak Mound in the Podgórze district. You, reader, must learn more about these strange, strange monuments, and you can read about them here. I think I should make it a goal to visit all of the Cracovian mounds before I leave. Today's visit makes three. I think Annie would approve.


Now I am finally ready to attend my first full week of second semester classes.

Coś jeszcze...?

NOTE: It proves I am learning something when I start to title my posts in Polish - haha.

I don't want to try to explain all that has happened since the last time I made a comprehensive post, so here is just a "highlights" reel, a veritable, visual "Best of."

PRAHA

KRAKÓW


WIEN

"Wilst du mit mir tanzen?"

Vienna probably deserves it's own entry because there is where I began my new year; it would just seems fitting. The truth is I am too lazy and I am rushing off to a Polish history exam in a few minutes, but that is beside the point. What I want to emphasize is this last picture. I took it at a milonga in Vienna after I had taken a brief lesson. (Just as a piece of advice, I don't recommend trying to get instruction in something you are already not so good at in a language you don't speak at all, like, for example, taking a tango lesson in German...) What I realized by the end of the night, that after numerous attempts at small talk with various partners, my life is too complicated to explain in the space of a pause between songs - who I am, where I'm from, why I'm in Poland, etc. While it might be difficult to understand sometimes, even for myself, I kind of like that I am almost excessively complex.

e-card

Z okazji Bożego Narodzenia życzę Wam wszystkiego dobrego, dużo radości, miłości, spokoju i szczęścia,

WESOŁYCH SWIĄT!!

SMACZNEGO

This is a post I have been intending to write for the longest time, so this is going to be a lengthy one. Prepare yourself. One of the distinctive experiences of world travel is getting to try all kinds of foods that are new to you but traditional in the way that they represent a place. Yes, I've had pierogis, bigos, obwarszanki, pickled herring in cream and a LOT of kielbasa, but some of my most memorable food moments are not always Polish in origin. Here are some highlights:

"Not What the Pilgrims Had In Mind"

I'll start with Thanksgiving since that was a big event, and in fact it was the first major American holiday that I have spent outside my country. Some of my American friends and I talked about trying to recreate a traditional Thanksgiving meal here at Piast, but that never came to fruition with our midterm exams taking up most of our free time and brain cells. Besides, I haven't really noticed that Poles eat turkey at all. Besides, what kind of student-made feast could top 2006's Powerhouse Turkey Day? I did my own part of celebrating by listening to Sarah Vowell read a story on a "This American Life" episode about Thanksgiving with her family, and thanks to the wonders of the internet I was able to talk with my own family, Peter finally included.

Coincidentally, with our exams finished as of last Thursday (Thanksgiving Day), Isabelle had planned on making a giant pot of miso soup with our Japanese classmates. It was meant to be a celebratory dinner, and it was marvelous. Miso, tofu, shiitake mushrooms, potatoes, onions, some kind of Japanese boullion, and seaweed. Not only did we have miso soup carefully supervised by four Japanese students, Isa also created a rice and tomato dish with all of her Italian-French culinary experience. Wait - there's more! For desert, we had waffles topped with jam. Those were a little more off-the-cuff since none of us had ever made the batter from scratch before, and we had to keep approximating the conversion from the American recipe I got from the internet into the metric equivalent. Nonetheless, I think I will always remember how at one point all of us were standing in a circle in the 6th floor kitchen, passing a bowl every minute or so from one person to the next to beat the egg whites for the waffle batter.

The evening's experience made me consider what this holiday is supposed to represent. Yes, there were all of those messy consequences to deal with once the white men had landed in America, such as, ahem, smallpox, but Thanksgiving was centered around togetherness and food. TO get to Poland, I had to travel across the ocean and disembark in a country where I knew neither the land or the people. Looking around the bed that served as our dinner table at all the people who helped prepare our meal, I took a moment to give silent thanks for the opportunity to be here and to spend that American "święta" (holiday) with some of the people closest to me.

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"Thank you Bloedow's"

It was a foggy, rainy, and chilly day in Krakow. It wasn't at all the beautiful weather that I had gotten used when I first arrived in the city. I had also been put in a bad mood after a full day of classes, and then instead of going home where I really wanted to be, I offered to accompany Isabelle on one of her crazy runs to Carrefour. It was still going to be a long afternoon...

To get from one end of the Stare Miasto to the other, Isa and I walked through the Planty (parks) that ring the old town. But then to get to the shopping center and Carrefour, you have to go through a small underpass beneath a bust street. The shopping center is right next to Krakow's train station, so this underpass sees a lot of pedestrian traffic in a day. Of course, there are small shops and stall that line each side to take advantage of all this high visibility.

It was in this underpass, in the right side, just before the exit into the shopping center plaza, that I had my first and my best pączek. I had been dying to try a pączek since it was one of the few Polish things and words (only known to me by its plural "pączki") that I knew before coming. It is a fried round of dough, filled with a special rosehip jam, and covered in a delicate glaze. Basically it's a doughnut. I bought one of these little balls of fried goodness for 1.10 zloty, and from the first bite it was as if I had only a mouth full of sunshine. The glaze was a perfect layer of sweet and just a tad crispy, the interior was fluffy and golden, and that rosehip jam is still a foreign delicacy to me. What struck me the most about this doughnut was that the taste took me back to a place thousands of miles away. It took me to a place where I knew the rest of the day was going to be okay. The taste and the texture and the feeling all took me back to my favorite corner bakery in Winona, MN, a staple of my childhood, Bloedow's.

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"Lecsó"

Tamás Fözö, my Hungarian, is a cook. Literally. His name, "Fözö" means "cook" in Hungarian. However, irony of ironies, he does anything but. I mean, he basically eats for survival and goes through pounds of instant cappuccino mix. That's my Tomi. But one day, as a super special treat (and in honor of Annie's visit) Tom Cook made the traditional Hungarian dish "lecsó". It was a circus in the kitchen for a while, but the finished product was great. Here is the recipe in Tom's own words as I made him write them down:

Lescó for 4 Persons

1. onion cut, 1-2

2. 1 kg paprika (peppers, in English)

3. 1 kg pomidory (tomatoes)

4. 2-5 eggs

5. 1 very small spoon of salt & sugar

6. some meat, maybe kielbasa

Everything has to be sliced!

Paprika has to collapse! WAIT!

We don't need water because the paprika has her own.

--------------------------

Finally, I include this bit just be cause it's a little fun. Cookies. I have made three different cookie recipes since I have been here: Peanut Butter Cookies with Annie and Tomi, Thumbprint Cookies with Sabine and Amelie, and last night's Banana Bread-esque Vegan Cookies. I was just in one of those moods to bake. However, I had to get a little creative with my ingredients since I had no eggs and just a little butter. Not to mention that we don't have any measuring cups or spoons. But come on, I am probably one of the few students in this whole dorm that has both baking soda AND baking powder. Here are are the final results. Flour on the bottom, sugar on the top, and egg-less banana goodness in between. I am quite proud of myself.