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?

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#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.

The Great Czech Republic Adventure

[Note] Blogger would not let me fill in as much as I wanted to in the title space (not enough room), so here is what the official title of this post should be: "The Great Czech Republic Adventure; OR Thank Goodness for Long Underwear; OR I've Never (fill-in-the-blank) in the Czech Republic Before; OR It Is Established Once Again that Annie and Sarah Make A Powerful Team, So Maybe ONE More Person Should Ask If We Are Sisters" There.



The only word that can accurately describe the weekend I spent in Valašské Klobouky –a small town in the foothills of the Carpathian Mountains– is "magical". (I don't think it is a coincidence that the the sun came out to shine over the freshly fallen snow once Tomi and I crossed the Czech-Polish border on our way there.) It was truly a change of scenery and a breath of fresh air. The most important thing to me was that I saw Annie in a place where she felt really at home. The entire weekend she had stars in her eyes and love shown out of her heart for everything and everyone. And it was easy to see why. Words are utterly inadequate to convey my feelings towards the hospitality of the kind, worldly souls of Kosenka, Valašské's environmental NGO and organizers of the St. Nicholas jarmek (market). I had to make an effort to hold back my tears as we were saying our goodbyes at their building on Sunday afternoon. And I had known these people for only about 36 hours! I'll do my best to recount the highlights here for better or worse and in more or less in chronological order:

- Tomi and I had to negotiate in Russian for our train ticket to Klobouky and then paid the 22 crown fare with a king size Kit-Kat bar. A good start.
- ANNIE!
- Czech beer
- Bowling at the "Amerikan" bar. Just wait - Cosmic Bowling will take take the country by storm. It's only a matter of time.
- Kosenka
- Attending an art opening with local artists, food, and live folk music at Klobouky's high school. It was the beginning of a lot of hammer dulcimer music.
- A youth choir concert in the town church that included various popular religious songs translated into Czech AND a stirring rendition of "Oh, Happy Day!" in English
- Baking periniki (gingerbread) at Mirek's home with a recipe that has been passed down for at least 4 generations. I use the term "baking" very loosely here since basically my role consisted of sitting at the dining room table to drink and eat while all the women of the house laughed and fell in love with Tomi. (Pretzliki are my new favorite snack.) However, I did give the mortar and pestle a few turns to grind the spices.
- As we were about to leave Mirek's house, we were surprised with the return of Martin, Mirek's son, from Norway and who has another soul full of light and love. I am honored to say that I met the entire family.
- Sleeping on a gym floor. Here are where my long underwear came in handy - it was cold!!
- The next morning, Annie woke Tomi and I, acting like a Dad on vacation at Disney World who wants to see absolutely everything. My breakfast was a glass of hot honey wine. I think I made it until about 2 o'clock before I had something non-alcoholic to drink.
- I spent the rest of Saturday without hardly ever being without food or drink in my hand: kolaczki, frgali, kyselica (oh, spelling...), kielbasa, potato pancakes weighing about 1 kilo each, boiled potatoes and cream from the old people's house, chicken, breads, apple cider, apple and beet juice, kofola cola, and of course, slivovice!!!!

- Dancing devils (that resemble yetis than they red devils we know) with bells on their backs and swatting passers-by with pine branches
- I bought some new red shoes! Actually, they are Vallachian slippers of the same kind that Annie wore all throughout the Powerhouse. My attempts at speaking Polish the Czech actually didn't work to my dismay, so I communicated my size with the shoe vendor in rudimentary German. It turns out that this was the same guy that Annie had bought her slippers from two years ago! And hey, at the end of it all, all three of had a round of slivovice from the shoe vendor.
- Annie's eyes when she met someone from the town whom she knew
- Taking a hike in the White Carpathians and seeing the sky's colors at sunset
- Tons of traditional dancing and people in beautiful traditional outfits
- Getting to try my hand at traditional dancing. ("Take that, Slowianki!")
- Watching Annie tap dance on the table :)
- The late-night jam session of Czech folk songs in Kosenka's horse stable. From this point on, whenever I will want to think about how the Czech language sounds, I will have to think of it in song because that is how I heard it the most.
- Getting too many kisses from old Czech men who thought I could understand them
- Vallachian yogurt
- Conversing with Mirek and feeling his kindness, intelligence, and wisdom
- Attending evening mass for the First Sunday of Advent in Czech, walking by Fredric Smetana's house, and meeting a helpful local who was almost too good to be true in Hranice na Moravia. See? Even good things can happen when you have seven-hour layover at the border because you missed your train...
- Coming back to Krakow at sunrise

I know what I wrote is a lot to take in, but in my own mind I am still trying to put this experience into perspective. Everything was in complete contrast from the style of life that I am living now, and I wish I could incorporate more of that peace here. Even though it was a whirlwind of a trip, (in Annie's words "an act of love"), a revelation came to me: when you live a small life, every single thing you have or experience takes on a grand importance. It wasn't as if when we were grinding the spices for baking, for example, that someone made an announcement that quieted the room and gathered everyone's attention to the ritual that was about to happen. No, it was just life. No ceremony to force the weight of the moment upon us. The festival was about celebrating culture, celebrating who these people are and all of their uncomplicated traditions. Each and every act there was an act of love. The cleanliness and simplicity of the traditions only serve to concentrate their potency. I think each person involved needed this weekend for a different reason. Now the time is ripe for me to think about what is important in my life. Before I leave off, I invite any questions about this post's title that remain unanswered. Finally, I have to include a photo of my new red shoes. :) Ahoj!

Save the Red Shoes!

I've got a small bit of bad news. I don't think my red Danskos are going to make it through the winter. Over the last few days, with this crappy fall rain, I have been finding myself consistently unable to walk from the tram stop to my school without ending up with two puddles of water instead of feet. I thought Danskos were supposed to be indestructible!

Please feel free to offer any suggestions (aside from the obvious "Duh, buy some new shoes") here.

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Snow. Snow is better than rain for the simple fact that is is less wet. (Maybe I can live with my imperfect red shoes a little bit longer.)



I mention this because today was the first day where we had snow in Kraków that actually stuck to the ground. However, the morning broke with a lot of sunshine. I stepped out into our refrigerator –in reality, a corner of our balcony– for some orange juice for my breakfast, and it was a gorgeous day! I decided in that moment that I would go down for a jog in a nearby park.

Every experience I have had jogging in this part of town has been wonderful. It's like a sight-seeing tour on warp speed. I have stumbled upon a beautiful garden within a park or just spun around the same path a few time to soak in the intense yellow of the trees in their fall brilliance. I can orientate myself a bit better AND I have to do something to counteract all the spoonfuls of Nutella that I eat directly out of the jar...

So this morning, I put on my sweatpants and my super space-age fabric hoodie with thumbholes cut out of the sleeves, and I was ready to go. I got outside and thought, "this isn't so bad." I got as far as the stoplight on my corner when it started to flurry. Still, I thought, "this isn't so bad." The weather still felt warm-ish, and the sun was still shining. There was a little competition for little kids and their toy airplanes on the big green. I made it down the first straightaway of the 3 or 4 K ring around the park, with the Kopiec Kosciuszko at my back, and I no sooner turned the corner than the wind decided to blow completely parallel to the ground and into my face. The snow flurries were now small collections of ice balls. I finally thought, "this is pretty bad. I must be crazy." Still, there was something thrilling about facing those elements and having giant snowflakes land on my tongue as if I were a child trying to excitedly catch them there.

But when all was said and done, I made it back home almost completely dry. I showered, fixed myself a big bowl of tomato soup, and of course now I'm back to eating more Nutella straight out of the jar.