Happy Birthday Misiu!

It’s my Misiu’s birthday, a big round one. Some people might be affected by that nice round number, but not my Misiu. So what, he’s 40. He’s 40 with a smoking hot wife (hee, hee) and two of the most adorable children you will ever see. Without all that, he would just be 40.

At university I had a classmate, David, who was also about 40. I was 18 at the time, so I thought he was like ancient and didn’t even think about how hard it must have been for him to start his undergrad degree at that age. I mean I had an inkling because I had sat near him during the mathematics placement test. I had just taken Advanced Calculus 2 months earlier in high school, so I sailed through the test. I could see that he was struggling, but that’s to be expected for someone entering college at such an advanced age ;)

When asked by a professor why he had decided to get his degree at that age, someone from the class chuckled, “You’ll be a 40 year-old-college graduate.” David responded, “I’ll be 40 years old anyway and better to be a 40 year-old college graduate than not.” That was a pretty good explanation, don’t you think? He went on to explain that the final decision had come on the urging of his children all of who had finished university and were out of the house. Smart kids!

Misiu, życzymy Ci sto lat

Kochamy cię bardzo!

-Twoje dziewczyny

Po polsku

Chyba powinnam pisać coś po polsku, ale co?

You think your journey was bad: An eventful train ride to the Baltic Sea

Returning to my arrival to the Village. Recap: I was installed in my Archives room at PZU, I had met Misiu and unfortunately his girlfriend and had more than 2 weeks to kill before school started. What’s a girl to do? Go to the Baltic Sea!

One of my university friends had been to Poland on a student exchange and had sent my contact information to her best Polish friend. He lived at the Baltic Sea and true to Polish hospitality invited me for 2 weeks.

I set out on my journey which involved one short bus ride and then another longer bus ride to Poznań where I needed to change to the train and continue on to the sea. I was very proud that I made it to Poznań by bus, but realized that I did not know where the train station was. I asked some college students and not only did they show me the way, they also helped me buy a ticket and got me on the train. I thanked them profusely and then I was off!

I was really stressed on the train. I was worried that I wouldn’t get off at the right stop (I didn’t realize that my stop was the last) or that someone would rob me. I started my journey in a compartment full of older people. I felt as if I should have my name and destination pinned to my sweater like a child. The older people slowly departed and a group of painters returning from work got in. They offered me a shot of vodka, but I thought it best to decline.

Then the painters departed and I was finally alone and could relax. The conductor had been around a few times to check everyone’s tickets and since he had already checked mine more than once, I was surprised to see him again. He was saying something to me in Polish, but I didn’t understand anything. That’s a shame because maybe if I had, I could have avoided what came next.

The smiling conductor closed the door to the compartment along with the curtains and locked the door. I straightened up in my seat. I started to protest when a large hand struck me across the head and face. As I had never been hit in the head before, accidentally or on purpose, I was out for a moment. As the little birdies flying around my head dispersed, I could feel the conductor grabbing me between my legs and opening his belt. I knew that I had to react and save myself from whatever he was planning. I had taken some self-defense course required at university, and had always had a mental blockade to screaming and to hitting someone. The blockade goes out the window when you are being attacked for real, not by some self-defense instructor in a padded suit. I kicked, hit and scratched the conductor and jumped up and began screaming and banging on the door. Luckily for me, it was only about 10 minutes to the last stop and people had already began congregating in the corridor of the train. The other passengers began screaming back and in a matter of seconds the door was unlocked by the conductor and he was scurrying away clutching his opened zipper and belt in his hands. The other passengers asked me if I was ok and if someone was waiting for me. I was never so happy to see the smiling face of my new friend waiting for me and I think the first thing I told him was that this country is messed up and that I wanted to go home.

PS If you get lost in Poland and need help, I recommend asking some young people. It worked for me in Poznań. Another time it didn’t work out for me as I asked a young, handsome man, “Do you speak English?” to which he replied, “Yes, only. I’m Dutch.” Oh, well.

PS2 Return the favor and help someone out who looks lost. Once I helped some tourists in the City. They were lost and couldn’t find the Market Square which was visible from where we were standing. Their problem was that they had a map that only included the Market Square, not the surrounding streets, and it was a pop-up map no less.

Snowstorm

It started snowing Friday afternoon a few hours before I had to pick up Lizzie from Pre-school, and it has been snowing ever since which really stinks because the Jeep is still at the mechanic and the “little” car is, well, little and completely snowed in. Apartment dwellers don’t have snow shovels, and I’m not hoofing it to the mall again today to buy one.

Yes, I went on foot and sled to the mall yesterday. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. Yesterday morning I trekked to my Saturday morning lessons on foot which I usually do, but it was really hard not so much because of the snow but because of the thick layer of ice under the snow. After work, I decided to go to the local shops instead of the supermarket. That is one cool thing in Poland. The corner shop still exists. Unfortunately, everyone else in my neighborhood decided to do the same, and I was 8th in line at the butcher and 5th in line at the corner market. I was only 2nd in line at the bakery, but it was behind a Babcia which counts double if not triple. She was convinced my loaf of wiejski krojony was better than the one she got so we switched. It was not until I got home, got my slippers on and had a hot cup of tea in my hands that I realized we were almost out of diapers.

Nie chcę ale muszę, as Wałęsa famously said. Diapers are a necessity, so all four of us got wrapped up for the trek to the mall. Misiu fell down on the ice about 45 seconds into our walk. Rosie lasted only half-way on the sled and when things got a little bumpy demanded that Daddy carry her. That left me to pull the sled with Lizzie and Maciek (her doll, I’ll explain another time). I was already sore from the trip to and from Pre-school the day before, but we managed to get to the mall in one piece. I dumped the family off at Empik (book store) and went on to Carrefour to buy diapers and only diapers. As Polish people say, it was Saigon in Carrefour but I got my pack of Pampers Piątki and waited in the 10 items or less line as the 16th “person”. I count whole families as one “person” in line as you would count a 6-pack of beer as one item. Unfortunately for the people in front of me, they did not notice that it was the 10 items or less line. How could they have when they (we) joined the line 16 people back. Instead of explaining their predicament, they chose another method of justification which I like to call the “i co” method. It goes like this, Yeah I have a whole cart of shopping and this is the 10 item or less check-out. And what? It is actually quite an effective method. Feel free to try it out.

After paying my 52.99 for a pack of 58 diapers, I returned to Empik to drag my family to the shoe store which thank goodness has a small sofa and big screen of bajki (cartoons). We had to buy Lizzie a pair of sneakers to replace her school slippers. Yes, after only 2 months of school, her slippers are completely destroyed. Then, it was time to hoof it back home, Rosie in Daddy’s arms and Lizzie, a pack of diapers, a new pair of shoes and my bag all on the sled. It was going pretty well until at one sharp turn I lost the whole load including Lizzie, but a very nice gentleman helped us straighten up and get on our way again.

We finally got home, got changed, made hot tea and realized it was really dark at home for 3:00 pm -as Misiu says ciemno jak w dupie. That’s what happens during a snowstorm when you live on the top floor and have only skylights and no “normal” windows. Today, it is a little less dark or a little more light if you wish as we tried to push some snow off the windows. We also scooped some snow into our old baby bath for the kids to play with. At least the bath it getting used as is my exercise stepper which doubles as a bench. Ok, we can say it “singles” as a bench because I never use it for stepping.

Hmmm, maybe I’ll go to work tomorrow by bus, unless I can find a volunteer to pull me on the sled. Any takers?

Sanki

With one car in use by Misiu and the other one at the mechanic, I empowered this morning another mode of transportation, our sanki. Sanki means sled, well actually it means sleds but it is referring to one sled only - you know like trousers or leggings.

Last year we totally missed out on the sanki thing because right after the first snow the stores were cleared out of sleds. This year, we received a second hand sled from our accountant. It is better than any sled I have seen in the shops. It is very solidly made and has got a back support which is important for us with 2 kids.

Lizzie loves to go on the sled. She loves being pulled around the neighborhood and sliding down hills. Rosie on the other hand hates the sled and I have no idea why. Knowing that Rosie hates the sled, I still decided to take Lizzie to Pre-school (with Rosie tagging along) on the sled. The Pre-school is about 3-4 blocks away and due to lax snow removal you can sled practically all the way there.

These pictures are not from today. They are from Babcia’s house where we made a kulig or parada of sleds as Lizzie calls it.

The morning started like this. We all got dressed and outside about 7:30 am. Packed the girls on the sled, Lizzie in the back, Rosie in the front with Lizzie’s bear (she calls him Dziś Miś) in the middle. Rosie is screaming. We set off for school. Rosie is crying and screaming for me to take her off. I do and we continue on with Lizzie and her bear on the sled and Mommy and Rosie on foot. Rosie decides she needs to be carried and as it is almost 8:00 now and we are not anywhere close to the school, I oblige, but I cannot then pull Lizzie on the sled. So that leaves Mommy carrying all 10+ kilograms of Rosie and Lizzie pulling Dziś Miś on the sled. We finally get to school after what seems like an eternity and as it was 8:20 it really was a long time for such a short walk.

Thankfully, Lizzie was on her way to her classroom with Pani Ela and Rosie and I were on our way back home on the sled. Except that Rosie wasn’t havin’ it. She screamed and cried but I managed to get her part of the way home on the sled until she had a fit. Her fit was so loud and dramatic that one older gentleman first beeped his car horn at us (as if that would help) and then stopped the car and got out to look at us (I’m totally serious). I had to carry Rosie in one hand and drag the empty sled home in the other and then carry Rosie up to the top floor of our apartment building. No amount of promising to watch Bolek i Lolek na Dzikim Zachodzie would appease her (Bolek & Lolek in the Wild West is the current top DVD in our house). I, by the way, was exhausted and covered in sweat. I’m sweating right now just thinking of the return trip to bring Lizzie back home.

Let’s look on the bright side. It could have been worse. It was neither snowing nor raining. No one pooed or vomited on the way there or back. We were on time. And I got some well needed exercise. Next time, I’m taking the stroller.

Hardly working

Happy New Year!

Happy 2010 everyone!

And what is a New Year’s Eve celebration without fireworks? I can say thanks to all my neighbors for treating us to a spectacular fireworks display last night lasting about 25 minutes. As the clock struck midnight and the fireworks began, Rosie woke up frightened by the noise. We went to the bedroom, lay in our bed together with her and watched the bursts of color through the skylight window. Lizzie, true to form, didn’t stir even a bit. She’s a deep, deep sleeper.

We could even see the fireworks from Rynek/Market Square not because we are so close, but because we are so far away. We used to live very close to the Market Square, and we spent New Year’s Eve in Rynek. My first New Year’s Eve in the Market Square, I saw a girl get a firework caught in the hood of her jacket and catch on fire. She got it off quickly, thank goodness, and her friends stomped it out.

The fireworks that caught the girl’s jacket on fire were not from the City’s official display, but they were from a partier’s private stash. That’s because fireworks are legal in Poland. Well, they are legal on certain holidays at least and you can buy them in the supermarket or at other stands set up especially at this time of year.

What’s the big deal? Well, for me, a Pennsylvania girl, it is a big deal because fireworks are illegal in the state of PA. The 2 biggest “firework” holidays in the US are New Year’s Eve and Independence Day (the 4th of July) and if you want to celebrate in PA you’ll have to make due with sparklers or caps. Not exactly the kind of celebration that you had in mind? Well, you can turn to the black market, but remember that if you don’t get caught buying or transporting the fireworks, you are bound to get caught when you set them off. You don’t think so? Really? Well, just ask my father.

My father is one of eight children and he is a fun-loving kind of a guy. He also loves to do whatever his children and now grandchildren want. He is big on family get-togethers and one 4th of July he planned a huge BBQ at our house which is situated on a mountain deep in the forest. He bought the fireworks from his brother who operated a small local grocery and had some connections in the underground firework distribution network. My uncle was once fined for selling fireworks at his shop and his inventory was confiscated. So, at dusk on a dry July evening, my father and his brothers started setting off fireworks. My sister, my cousins and I were enthralled and amazed. It was the best thing we had ever seen until one burst of color and sound caught the top of a tree on fire. And then another and another. The trees were pretty tall and our water pressure pretty low as we lived on a mountain so there was no chance for us to extinguish the fire ourselves. My father called the fire department and a fire truck, siren and all, raced to our house. We thought that this was better than the actual fireworks. The firefighters put out the fire and gave my father a real talking to. We were waiting for the fire chief to write out a ticket for my father, but when the fire chief saw my mother’s face he said that my father had punishment enough waiting for him and gave him only a warning.

And that’s the problem with fireworks in the hands of private citizens. I should mention that my father has a lot of guns too which are totally legal in PA. Oh, the trouble you can get into with a gun. Anyhow, I know that everything in the US is regulated with ridiculous warning labels on every product and that maybe we are killjoys, but I’m waiting this January 1st morning to see on the news how many kids blew their fingers off or worse last night with the fireworks. Add alcohol to the mix and disaster is sure to happen.

And it is not just kids. At Christmas 2 years ago when we were shopping for a Christmas tree, a father and son were throwing fire crackers off their balcony at us. Lizzie was 2 years old and as the fire cr ackers burst right next to her, she screamed in fear and we looked all around to see where they were coming from. We were shocked to see it was an adult and shocked even more as he prepared the next set and threw them down on us. Stupidity knows no bounds.

But stupidity, alcohol, and fireworks aren’t all bad. Last year January 1st morning, I found 50 złoty in the snow outside our apartment building. It was probably lost when someone was taking out matches from their pocket to light fireworks. Someone told me that it was an extremely good omen and set the tone for 2009 suggesting I would have a rich year. Unfortunately, as far as money goes, they couldn’t have been more wrong, but I feel blessed nonetheless.

I wish you a happy 2010 full of blessings more than you can count!