Autobus 133

Mam całe dwa tygodnie wolne od pracy –ok już minęło tydzień. Yipeee. Dwa tygodnie bez chodzenia z dziećmi do szkoły. Dwa tygodnie na wsi z dziećmi. Dwa tygodnie bez potrzeby korzystania z autobusu miejskiego.
Tydzień temu siedziałam na ławce i czekałam na autobus. Przyjechał autobus D. Wysiadł Pan. Pan był lekko zdenerwowany i mocno wybrudzony. Przyszedł do mnie jako jedynej osoby, która czekała na autobus…
Czy już był 133 (czyli sto trzydzieści trzy) bo nie chciałem jechać D tylko 133.
Jeszcze nie.
W tej chwili (przy wymowie sto trzydzieści trzy) zauważyłam że Panu z autobus D brakowało około 8 zębów z przodu. Nie oceniam go. Tylko powiem, że było mi bardzo trudno go zrozumieć bez tych krytycznych zębów potrzebnych do wymówienia 133. Ja mam wszystkie zęby i jest mi trudno wymawiać sto trzydzieści trzy po polsku.
Ile tutaj Pani czeka?
10 minut.
I nie było?
Nie było?
Nie.
133?
133.
Na który autobus Pani czeka?
Na 107 (czyli sto siedem).
107? Skąd Pani jest? Trudno jest Panią zrozumieć. Pani dziwnie mówi.
No ja pier… papier! I wtedy przyjechał 133 i Pan jechał dalej bez odpowiedzi na jego pytanie.

The Good Enough Christmas

This year is the Christmas of “good enough”. We’ve been so busy (as anybody who gets paid by the hour can especially understand) that we haven’t been able to prepare for Christmas up to the usual standards.
The last two years we spent an astronomical amount on our Christmas tree. Yes, the trees were beautiful but c’mon, it’s just a tree. This year we managed to secure a tree straight from the forest-legally obtained, I assure you. It’s about 2 meters tall and a bit crooked. It is definitely good enough, and it came at a fraction of the cost of last year’s tree. It’s amazing what you can arrange while drinking beer outside the local shop.*
.
We bought fewer presents than usual this year. Our girls left their letters for Santa on Saint Nicholas Day and we bought a few things from the list. We’ve learned from past Christmases that sometimes things very important on St. Nicholas Day are long forgotten by Christmas. As far as presents go, the girls received enough. (We decided not to buy the top present on the list. Can you guess what it is? This is how it was written: Tłajlajt Dasz. Any ideas?)

Our house is pretty much clean. Well, it is much less dirty than if was a few days ago. I don’t really have the time or energy to clean it top-notch so clean enough will have to do. Nobody likes us so nobody is going to visit us anyway więc good enough for us is good enough at all.

As far as our Christmas menu is concerned, we went easy on the labor, heavy on the out-sourcing. OK, I did go all out and make Christmas cookies myself. The rest I ordered from a hotel restaurant. Christmas supper was delicious. Merry Christmas to me.

What does all of this good enough stuff mean? Well, it means that on Monday when Misiu went to work and the whole village was cooking and hoovering, we girls went to the village library to chill out. We had some books to take back plus some more books and puzzles donated by a friend, sorted out in her pre-Christmas cleaning frenzy. Lizzie and Rosie chose some books for the Christmas break and Lizzie even found a book from her second grade reading list that she needs for school. Then the girls set into making Christmas ornaments from plaster. They glittered up the whole library. I chose some books for Misiu including “Gulag” as a revenge for his last year’s Christmas present of two books about WW2. The librarian even made us tea. She was very moved when we gave her a chocolate-covered ginger bread and wished her a merry Christmas.
Good enough also means that on Christmas Eve we spent the whole day together and enjoyed each other’s company. OK, we exiled the kids outside for awhile but it wasn’t because we wanted them out from under our feet, but because the weather was so nice it was a pity to stay inside. The girls invited the neighbor kids and they had a pre-Christmas uczta in the barn.
Today we spent the morning assembling Legos. I mean somebody did. It wasn’t me. I chose the dollhouse pre-assembled and talking Barbie with batteries included**. Later the neighbor invited us because their new gaming system was in English and they couldn’t figure out how to switch it to Polish. We were served 5 different kinds of cake, all home-made, all delicious. Next we were served a collection of dishes- salads, fried fish, cold fish, bigos, pierogi. Once again, everything was homemade and everything was delicious and our hostess didn’t sit down for a minute. She said it’s not in her nature. She likes to be in the kitchen, on the move, serving people. To each his own.
Locating the Christmas tree in the kids’ room is a stroke of genius we happened upon a few years ago. All the Christmas chaos is contained in one area. It does have its drawbacks though, for Santa I mean. Get the presents under the tree undetected with two little ladies sleeping just a step or two away? Challenge accepted!


I also had a minute to enjoy the sunrise which took place after we opened all the presents this morning. My little Amerykanki woke up pretty early.


I hope that everybody had a “good enough” Christmas too.
*All and any beer consumed outside the local shop was done so by Misiu, not by me that’s for sure.
**I would like to take the opportunity to apologize to anyone who bought a talking Barbie that happened to scare their child this Christmas. Misiu couldn’t resist recording “I’m a scary Barbie” in a monster voice on most of the talking Barbies at Smyk. Whoopsee.

Giving thanks

The month of November for many is a time to give thanks for our blessings culminating in the thankiest day of the month, Thanksgivng. Thanksgiving in the US is followed by its dark sister, Black Friday, perhaps the greediest day of the year. What did I do, American in Poland, on Thanksgiving? Yeah, I cooked turkey and stuffing and all the fixings from scratch baby, from scratch. It was on Saturday and we still have turkey in the fridge 5 days later, but whatever.
I am thankful though. I know I like to complain a lot. It’s the Polish in me and a blog written by an eternally contented person would be pretty boring to read. No? You don’t think so? Let’s give it a go.

The sun is shining again today. I never knew that the sky could be so blue. I ate 7000 calories of chocolate again yesterday and lost 3 pounds. Isn’t that amazing? Everyday when I look in the mirror I am happier and happier with what I see. Hmm, what shall I wear today? My new book is coming out today. I should look nice for the premiere. Some people are saying it is going to be bigger than the Bible. Isn’t that hilarious? Back to the clothes - I have an amazing array of clothes to choose from as numerous world famous designers have decided that I am the new “it” girl (what are the odds at 40?) and have stocked my wardrobe with literally hundreds of designer looks for any occasion. I would ask my children to help me pick out something but my elder daughter is sitting her university exams. Yes, it is unusual for a 7-year-old to be a freshman at Harvard but she really wanted to go and they offered her a full scholarship. My younger child cannot help either as she is preparing her acceptance speech for the Nobel Prize. She’s discovered the cure for some nasty illness or something. What a precocious little thing. I’d ask my hubby to help but he is at the lottery center collecting our second win of the year. Isn’t that unusual? Gawd, we are just the luckiest and happiest family in the whole, wide world.

Ok, I stand corrected, that life would be interesting to read about.

I am thankful for all that I have achieved, big and small –ok, small and smaller. I am thankful that I could go to university and graduate on time without huge debt. I am thankful that we have a roof over our heads and are mortgage free. I am thankful for all the contacts, personal and professional, that I have made over the years. I am proud that I learned a bit of another culture and language. I am thankful and proud that I finally reached a level of maturity where I can stand up for myself. I am thankful that I decided to write to this blog and that somebody besides myself takes some enjoyment from reading it. I am thankful that I have parents who took care of me and are still together taking care of each other. I am thankful for my sister and her wicked sense of humor. I am thankful that my grandmother taught me how to cook. I am thankful that I came to Poland and met my husband. I am thankful for those two little boogers we call daughters. I am a lucky, lucky lady.

Here are some other things that I am thankful. Let’s call it November’s Top Thanks. I’ve been collecting them.

As I bent down at school to help my daughter with her new kozaki, I heard a terrible ripping sound. So I am thankful that my trousers ripped across the knee and not up the backside.

I am thankful for the Facebook defriend facility allowing friends and family I haven't seen or spoken to in 20 years to edit me from their lives.

I am thankful to be invited to the annual auction benefiting children with cancer. I am thankful that I quickly and inexpensively found something to wear to the auction and it fulfills the requirement from my husband that it not be gray (my whole wardrobe is gray). I am thankful that my children will attend the auction as guests and not as former patients.

Thankful that when I wore a dress this week, nobody asked me who died.

Thankful that I managed to buy a picture at the charity auction - it required a loud comment that I had no chance against the guy in front of me who bought about 10 pictures, but whatever. Thankful to everyone who told me what lovely children I have. Thankful to have such lovely children...that's why I chose that handsome husband, lord knows it wasn't for the money.

I am thankful that when husband and doctor were discussing whether to put child in the hospital or not, the issue of whether our insurance would cover it was not even on the table.

I am thankful for the people who come to my home, ignore the mess and even say 'it's not that bad, you can still see the floor'.

I am thankful that people have started replacing the word 'poor' with 'hipster' as in "Chris is a hipster" which sounds way better than "Chris is poor".

I am thankful that so many people don't like me that my Christmas shopping list keeps getting shorter and shorter.

Thankful for the crew who fixed our fence and reported that every woman in our village is a whore, excluding me of course.

Thankful that my group gave me props for my new hoodie. When I changed the color of my hair, nothing, but a new hoodie cannot go without comment.

Thankful for the dentist who fixed my tooth today and his understanding reaction to having a witch like me in the chair. When he said that my tooth (which was repaired there 4 months ago) would be charged, I only commented, "Maybe, but not to me."

That puts me in such a good mood, I might have to put up the Christmas tree.

What are you thankful for?

I will pray for you

Recently I was asked how I felt when someone says, “I will pray for you”. Well, I have to say it all depends on the situation.

I know some non-believers are very sensitive to this issue. Some say offers of prayer to an atheist are passive aggressive, while others liken it to being given the middle finger. I don’t feel like that. When somebody who knows and cares about me and knows I am having a tough time tells me that they will pray for me, I know it is their way of telling me that I am in their thoughts. I like it. It is nice to be thought about.

However, more often than not when people tell me they want to pray for me, it has absolutely nothing to do with sending good vibrations my way. It usually occurs about 5 seconds after finding out I'm an atheist. It has more to do with protecting my soul from eternal damnation for my atheist ways. Then I’m not so happy about it. I keep my cool though. I don’t want to offend anyone’s religious sensibilities. For some reason those same people often think that my sensibilities cannot be offended.








So, back to my recent conversation and how I really feel inside when somebody wants to pray for me. I guess I feel indifferent. I mean how would you feel if a Voodoo shaman offered to slaughter a chicken and dig through its insides for you. Would that have any meaning to you? No? Ridiculous, right? I mean that Voodoo religion isn’t any less made-up than yours if you have one.

Voodoo follower in prayer. Check out the rest of the intriguing photos here.

Jesus vs. Doctor Who

And for Thanksgiving, an atheist prayer.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Egzekutor

As a full-fledged user of the local village library, I have decided to take advantage of the library services such as requesting a book that I want to read instead of just buying it. 24 zloty not spent is 24 zloty saved. Plus that, our librarian is very nice. It’s a pleasure to go to the library and now the library is also equipped with a computer and Wi-fi. Ok, so far I am the only person who has ever tried to use it, thus discovering that the library doesn’t know its own password, but whatever. Baby steps, baby steps.
Recently I requested the book “Egzekutor” by Stefan Dąmbski. It’s short, about a hundred pages, and took me a couple of hours to read. Stefan Dąmbski was a member of the Polish Home Army (AK) during WWII and a self-titled “egzekutor”. He participated in many “liquidation actions” as they were called, killing German soldiers returning from the front, German civilians, Polish people deemed traitors, random Ukrainians, general riff-raff and in many instances completely innocent people by mistake or just for fun. The book is not a complete memoir of his life or even his time in the AK. It wasn’t meant for publication and was only sent to publishers by family after Dąmbski’s death. It appears to be Stefan Dąmbski’s attempt to sort through his own memories and reflections before his death. Having said that, this book was hard to take, not because of the brutality of his descriptions, but because of the discrepancy between Dąmbski’s AK and the other accounts of the AK I have read.
Dąmbski as a teen, was permitted to join the AK after “taking care of” an informant, another young man that he knew well. In Dąmbski’s retelling, he volunteered to take care of the problem and killing the man was his idea. He claims that he had to convince the AK to allow him to do it and after a few hours of persuasion, they agreed. Perhaps that is true or perhaps it was the slick manipulation by the AK of a young boy eager to serve kill. And there’s another thing difficult to take in this book. Dąmbski does not present himself as a hero, but as a killer. He says that part of his motivation in writing his account is to contrast what the AK usually writes about themselves, mostly heroic stories. The writer of “Sołdat” had similar motivations. Dąmbski describes feeling like a hero, a patriot, at the time. His descriptions are however void of any heroism and patriotism and sound like the notes of a sadistic killer. What is war but sadistic killing colored with bóg, honor i ojczyzna.
The book includes some reaction of representatives of the AK, people who lived in the places he described and historians. Some of Dąmbski’s accounts are recorded in history a bit differently or attributed to different people. Dąmbski also does not include some actions he most certainly participated in. Some names are also changed, by the accident of memory or on purpose? We will never know. One accusation was that the AK did not participate in liquidating the locals. However, a historian was able to show documentation of such “actions”. I am struck by the absence of Jewish people in his writings. The AK has been accused also of “cleaning up” Jews in some areas. Perhaps Dąmbski didn’t participate in it, didn’t know about it, was so ashamed he didn’t want to mention it or not ashamed at all as not to mention it.
Dąmbski in his own defense in his own writing states,

Z każdej historii można wyciągnąć wnioski i się czegoś nauczyć, o ile wszystko opierać się na prawdzie.  Dlatego w tej książce piszę tylko o działaniach wojennych, w których sam brałem bezpośredni udział. Nie piszę tu o rzeczach, które mi opowiadano i których nie byłem świadkiem. Podaję tu fakty z życia prostego żołnierza Armii Krajowej.

From every story we can draw conclusions and learn something as long as everything is based on the truth. That’s why in this book I write only about those acts of war that I directly took part in. I do not write about things that were told to me or that I was not a witness to. I give facts from the life of a simple soldier of the Home Army.

Pisząc dziś te wspomnienia, próbuję – podając różne przykłady – usprawiedliwić siebie i takich jak ja, gdy chodzi o ogromne krzywdy, jakieśmy w tym czasie wyrządzili rasie ludzkiej. Za późno dziś, by prosić kogokolwiek o przebaczenie, tak się ludziom życia nie. przywróci. Niech to będzie jeszcze jedno ostrzeżenie dla przyszłych pokoleń i różnych organizatorów politycznych. Niech pamiętają, że każda wojna to tragedia, że w niej zawsze giną ludzie młodzi, mający całe życie przed sobą – i to giną niepotrzebnie.

Writing today these memories, I try – giving various examples – to justify myself and other like me regarding the enormous harm we did to the human race. It is too late today to ask anybody for forgiveness, it won’t bring those people their lives back. Let it be another warning to future generations and political organizations. Let them remember that every war is a tragedy and that in every war young people die, young people who have their whole lives in front of them die and they die unnecessarily.

I would have liked to read more about Stefan Dąmbski’s life before the war and after the war as he moved to the United States. I also wish that his reflections were more often and I guess with more reflection in them. I suppose this is a consequence of the fact that the text was written for himself and not for us and that in a few words he was able to reflect deeply enough for his own needs. Stefan Dąmbski perhaps intended to write more. His text ended abruptly mid-sentence. Stefan Dąmbski shot himself in the head in 1993 in Miami where he lived.

Book Drive

This is how it works. You announce on Facebook that you are doing a book zbiórka. Your friends go through their old books and give them to you –text books, poetry, history, art, detective, children’s books, anything and everything. You transport them to the village library and the glory is all yours! Sorry suckers!



Just kidding. I am very grateful to everybody who donated. Thanks to one friend’s donation of intellectual and poetic reading materials, the local librarian thinks I’m quite a romantic.
All in all, more than 400 books were donated. I expect to be invited to the library re-naming ceremony any day now.











The Alf collection: proof that our library is in need of some new books.

Quotes of the Week- The “What the What?” Edition

We have to start with the most controversial quote of the week from…drum roll, please…Priest Bochyński. Really, I am not specially targeting the Catholic church. It’s just that priests, bishops and other church supporters keep making idiotic statements in public places in full view of others who have eyes, ears, brains and recording devices. The latest unforgiveable and unable-to-be- explained-away quote was taken during an interview. Before anyone accuses me of taking the quote out of context, I will let you know that I read the transcription of the interview not just the article in the newspaper and the context is disgusting.  In the interview Priest Bochyński states that he personally knows of cases where, "same dzieci wchodziły do łóżek dorosłych, chcąc być spełnionym" and that "to był wybór dziecka".
Ok, English-only speakers, prepare to be disgusted because he said he knows of cases where “children themselves crawled into the bed of an adult looking for fulfillment” and that it was “the choice of the child.” All together now… Aaaamen.
You will be glad to know that the reaction of the media and the church has been swift and the punishment of Bochyński has begun.
I highly recommend this article http://joannasenyszyn.natemat.pl/81237,koscielne-lemingi which sums up what has been going on in Poland recently regarding the church and criticism of the church.

The next quote is from one of the leaders of Ratuj maluchy. They collected a million signatures and demanded a referendum about the issue (among others) of lowering the age kids start school from age 7 to age 6. They are against lowering the age. Parliament voted against the referendum.
Łukasz Elbanowski said right after Parliament voted down the referendum,

“To, co widzieliśmy dzisiaj, to było lekceważenie demokracji.”
“This what we saw here today is a disregard of democracy.”

I couldn’t disagree more. I think it was rather a regard for democracy. They collected a million signatures. They were permitted to address Parliament. Parliament voted - just not how they wanted. There was also some talk of our constitutional rights being raped…I wonder how they feel about catechism in public schools being funded by the national budget and days off for the whole school to go to mass? Whose rights are being raped then?
The next quote comes straight out of the exciting private life of Chris. Envy on stand-by, please.
Next to my children’s school there is a private Catholic school, so I am often walking to school in the company of priests and nuns from our public school and/or the Catholic school. In Poland, people greet members of the clergy with a variety of phrases such as ‘praise the lord’ or ‘god bless’ and such others. If I have to, I say ‘good morning’ and if I can get away with it I give my best “you talkin’ to  me?” face. You will get no “praise be to god’s” from me. Anyway while walking to school this week I overheard this conversation between 2 nuns:

Nun # ONE "Wow, I got 8 Szczęść Boże's today just from home to here.”

Nun # TW0 "Well, yesterday I got 11 Szczęść Boze's just in the morning."

I suppose collecting Szczęść Boże's is like Facebook "LIKES" for nuns.

It says, “Let’s take care of this quickly. Which one of you has the most fans on Facebook?”
I know you are green with envy at my glamorous lifestyle. Can you handle more from the real life of Chris? This quote is from the village doctor who was recently needed as our Lizzie has pneumonia. The village doctor is cool. You can go to his apartment (above his office) without calling day or night and if he is home and sober, he will see you…all for the small price of…get ready for it…30 zloty. In addition to that, you will hear gems such as “można się zrzygać”  (you can puke) referring to tummy troubles you may have after taking strong antibiotics and the top hit of the week “i też można się zesrać” (you can crap yourself) referring to toilet troubles that often accompany aforementioned tummy troubles. What can I say? It’s the absolute truth. Oh, and I have no photo or graphics for that, thank goodness, so how about this…

Stay healthy!