The Gospel according to Doda

I’ve recently discovered a blog that probably the rest of the world discovered more than a year ago - http://www.livingoprah.com/

It’s by a writer from Chicago who did an experiment of living her life for one year following all the advice given by Oprah and her guests. It got me thinking. Who would I model my life after here in Poland if I wanted to do the same experiment?

At first I thought about Ewa Drzyzga whose talk show Rozmowy w toku on TVN is the closest thing we have to The Oprah Winfrey Show…except that it is nothing like it. It’s a talk show alright but there is none of the lifestyle advice or fashion advice or shopping tips or whatever else is on The Oprah Show now ‘cause I haven’t seen it in more than 5 years.

Then I thought about Kinga Rusin, TV journalist and presenter, probably most famous for her divorce from another TV journalist Tomasz Lis (yeah, I know stuff) and her win on the Polish version of Dancing with the Stars. I gave up on that idea. First of all, I can’t dance worth shyte and have you seen her arms? Living the life according to Rusin probably involves a lot of weight-lifting or pick-axing in a mine or testosterone injections or whatever it is that she does to get arms like.

Kinga and her arms.

Maybe former first lady, Jolanta Kwaśniewska, who is said to be a classy lady and now hosts her own television show Lekcja stylu (Style Lessons) on TVN Style. She explains things like the global importance of owning a cashmere twinset and the proper way to eat a ptyś in public. She also follows the model of former US first lady Hillary Clinton (No, not in the political arena. She doesn’t have time when there are so many people with pressing ptyś issues) in that her hair keeps getting bigger and bigger. From all my candidates she would be the best, but I can’t get over the fact that she is a big Communist, oh I mean former Communist, new Social Democrat. Whatever. By the way, she recommends a very complicated ptyś eating procedure which involves cutlery. I have a piece of advice for ya. If you are not confident enough to lick cream off your fingers in public, then don’t pick the ptyś. Order yourself a nice safe piece of cheesecake.

Jolanta and Hillary back in the day and more or less now.

Completely and totally unrelated cheesecake story. Once when boxer Andrzej Gołota (known for hitting Mike Tyson below the belt) was in town for a fight, I met some of his crew by chance at a bakery in the Market Square. They were easy to spot- 2 New Jersey guys wearing sweatsuits that said “Golota Crew” on the back. I helped them with their order of 2 cheesecakes. Yeah, that’s right. Not 2 pieces of cheesecake, but 2 cheesecakes. What’s the proper etiquette for digging into a whole cheesecake in public? I ran into them later at the airport and they were quite sure I was stalking them.

That leaves me with one obvious choice, Dorota Rabczewska aka Doda the famous Polish popstar. She’s kind of like the Polish Madonna but in her younger years. Yes, she is a bit scandalous but who cares? When you have an arse like that you can command the world. My life as Doda would begin with obvious cosmetic surgery. Then I would have to learn to sing or something. Next on my agenda after visiting the little Lolita dress shop would be getting myself a football player husband to marry and then leave and then get back together with and then leave again, and so on. I think some tatoos would be in order as well. And what should all of that bring me? Well I’m hoping for a legion of loyal fans. In fact, I know where I could get my first fans - in my village. Let me explain. In my village, there’s no bar. There used to be, except the bar didn’t have a liquor license (I’m totally serious) so you had to go to the shop, buy some alcohol and come back. For obvious reasons, the bar went under. Now if you’d like to drink in the company of your friends (ie other former PGR workers who want to get away from their wives for awhile) you need to go to the shop, buy some alcohol and drink in the little “bar” set up by the shop owner. I would never dare enter this place but under the cover of early morning, I was able to get a shot of it.

In my opinion it looks a little bit like a chapel with an altar to…...you guessed it, my new life coach Doda!

I will let you know how my plan works out ;)

Who? - Kto?

I have to admit that I'm not good with names. Maybe it is a family thing. I remember my Grandmother just looking at us and calling every name but the one that was actually ours. It could also have had something to do with the fact that she had 8 children and who knows how many grandchildren. My husband on the other hand seems to know all our neighbors names and which car they drive. It has happened more than once that after my husband has greeted someone in the supermarket, I have asked who it was only to find out that it is our neighbor two floors down.

I also blame my name memory lapses on the fact that I live in a foreign country (I blame a lot of my personal deficiencies on that) and those difficult foreign names just slip out of my head. Once I told a group of students that if we meet years later in the supermarket that they should remind me of their names before I panic and run. Two days later I ran into one of those students who walked up to me and said, "Hi, I am Jacek your student".

For those situations where I cannot rely on anyone to remind me I have devised my own naming system if you will which I find much more useful - as long as the named person never finds out. The first recipient of a name of my own creation was christened “fish girl”, an unfortunate name but as her father was the owner of a herring packing factory it seemed fitting. The owner of our corner shop is “Mrs. Shop lady”. Our butcher is Slawek but that is his real name and his wife is “Mrs Slawek”. There are the “pizza boys” from the pizzeria, the “dhl guy”, the “flower shop lady”, etc. In our building we have the “cat lady” and our old neighbor “Elvis” - think blond hair with big sideburns and you'll get the picture.

There are also a lot of comparisons such as 'short Ada' and 'long Ada' referring to the length of hair. There were two priests working at the public school where I worked shortly (I know, priests teach religion in public school here. It freaked me out, too). First of all, the word 'priest' is really difficult in Polish and I could not really refer to the priests as Mr. either. So I began referring to them as the “hot priest” because he was and the “other priest” well, because he wasn't. As offensive as that may sound no one ever questioned who I was talking about when I said the 'hot priest'.

Speaking of priests, in the same town one priest made a big decision to leave the priesthood, marry a parishioner and stay to raise his family in the same town. He is still active in the church but is referred to by many as 'priest' or 'father' which is not that big of a deal except that his wife is called “Mrs. Priest”' and his kids “the priest's son” and “the priest's daughter”.

I know that I'm not immune from falling victim of the name game. Once while visiting the doctor for the first time, I asked the doctor what was written on my chart. It was a series of letters which I could not string together in any language to spell an actual word, something like rpkstilwk. She informed me that it was my name. Interesting, especially since I can spell my name in Polish perfectly. Even more interesting was that the doctor's last name had a double meaning in Polish (Dr. Laska) meaning Dr. Cane and in the second meaning something like Dr. Hot Stuff.

I'm often referred to in various forms of the Polish name Krystyna or a very Polish pronunciation of my name which sounds like you've got something stuck in your throat-Hhhhhhrrrreeeees (Ch in Polish is a hard H sound). Once at a cafeteria where I had lunch once a week, the cashier couldn't change my 100 zloty bank note but she told me that I could pay the following week. I gave her my name and the next week when I wanted to pay they couldn't find my tab on the list. I took the list and found the amount next to the note “that American girl” which is way better than “that English girl”, “that foreign girl” or strangely enough once “that German girl”. For many I have joined the realm of the one-name, mega-stars such as Madonna or Doda. At my hairdresser, I am simply Chris. At my dentist too. For many clients and students there is only one Chris. My husband says thank goodness there is only one Chris. His country couldn't handle another one :)

Kto?

Muszę przyznać że nie jestem dobra jeśli chodzi o nazwiska. Może to jest rodzinny problem. Pamiętam jak moja Babcia patrzyła na nas, wołając każde inne imię oprócz naszego. Mogło tak też być z tego powodu, że miała ośmioro dzieci i kto wie ile wnuków. Mój mąż jednak pamięta nazwiska wszystkich naszych sąsiadów i ich samochody. Więcej niż raz, Misiu powitał kogoś w sklepie, a ja spytałam kto to był. Oczywiście to byli nasi sąsiedzi dwa piętro pod nami.

Tłumaczę moje zapominanie faktem, że mieszkam (dla mnie) zagranicą (tłumaczę sobie dużo moich osobistych wad tym faktem) i te trudne zagraniczne nazwiska po prostu wylatują mi z głowy. Kiedyś powiedziałam grupie studentów, że jeżeli spotkamy się w sklepie oni powinni przypomnieć mi swoje nazwisko zanim nastąpi moja panika i ucieczka. Dwa dni później spotkałam jednego z uczniów. Przyszedł od razu do mnie i powiedział, „Cześć. Jestem Jacek, Pani student.”

W sytuacjach kiedy nie mogę liczyć na czyjąś pomoc, wymyśliłam swój system nazywania który jest bardzo użyteczny tak długo jak zostaje tajemnicą przed tymi których nazywam. Pierwszym odbiorcą albo ofiarą mojego systemu była dziewczyna, która została ochrzczona imienien „fish girl”. Może to nie brzmi ciekawie ale jej ojciec był właścicielem przetwórni śledzi i pasowało mi. Właścicielka naszego sklepu na rogu jest, „Mrs. Shop Lady”. Nasz rzeźnik jest Sławek ale tak naprawdę się nazywa a jego żona to „Mrs. Sławek”, Są też „pizza boys” z pizzerii, „dhl guy”, „flower shop lady” itd. W naszym budynku mamy też „cat lady” i jeszcze Elvis – pomyśl: blond włosy i ogromne pejsy i rozumiesz o co chodzi.

Też są porównania np “short Ada” a “long Ada” tutaj chodzi o długość włosów. Było dwóch księży, którzy pracowali w szkole na wsi tam gdzie pracowałam (Wiem ksiądz prowadzi religie w szkole państwowej w Polsce. Na początku mnie to bardziej przerażało). Po pierwsze, słowo ksiądz po polsku jest strasznie trudne, ale też nie mogłam mówić Pan na księdza. Zostało tylko po angielsku określenie Priest. Jeden został „hot priest” czyli gorący (albo seksowny) ksiądz bo po prostu był gorący, a ten drugi został, no, „ten drugi” ponieważ, no, nie był zbyt gorący. Może to jest obraźliwa uwaga ale nikt nigdy nie spytał o kogo mi chodziło kiedy powiedziałam „hot priest”.

A propos księży, tam na wsi jeden ksiądz (nie ten gorący) zdecydował zrezygnować z duchowieństwa, wziąć ślub z jedną parafianką i zostać tam na wsi, żeby wychować dzieci. Dalej działa w kościele, ale dużo ludzi mówi na niego „ksiądz” albo „ojciec”. To nic wielkiego, ale jego żona jest znana jako żona księdza a jego dzieci jako syn księdza i córka księdza.

Wiem, że sama nie jestem wolna od bycia ofiarą tej zabawy w nazywanie. Kiedyś u lekarza na pierwszej wizycie, spytałam lekarkę, co było napisane na mojej karcie. Była tam seria literek, które w żadnym języku nie układała się w żadne słowa ani nazwisko. To było coś takiego jak rpkstilwk. Lekarka mnie poinformowała, że to było moje nazwisko. Ciekawe - zwłaszcza że umiem przeliterować moje nazwisko po polsku bez trudu. Bardziej ciekawe było nazwisko lekarki – Dr Laska.

Często jestem zwana Krystyną albo bardziej spolszczoną polsku wersją Chris - ch zamiast k, co brzmi jakbyś miał coś w gardle – Hhhhhhrrrreeeees. Kiedyś w barze, gdzie jadałam obiad raz w tygodniu, kasjerka nie mogła rozmienić mi sto złotych. Powiedziała, że mogę zapłacić za tydzień. Podałam jej moje nazwisko i w następnym tygodniu chciałam zapłacić, ale nie mogli znaleźć mojego długu na liście. Podniosłam tę listę i znalazłam mój dług obok uwagi „ta Amerykanka” co i tak jest dużo lepsze niż ta Angielka, ta obca, i raz - dziwnie - ta Niemka. Dla niektórych jestem członkiem tego klubu mega-gwiazd tylko z imieniem jak Madonna, albo Cher, albo Doda. U fryzjera, jestem po prostu Chris. U dentysty też. Dla wielu klientów i studentów jest tylko jedna Chris. Misiu mówi „dzięki bogu”, że jest tylko jedna Chris. Jego kraj nie dałby rady z więcej niż jedną.