It's Freezing Outside, But I'm Warm This Christmas

It was a beautiful weekend.

I had a really nice lesson with my Saturday class this week, and they reminded me of exactly why I love doing what I do.  Then we had the Bell Christmas party last night.  Karolina, Zenon, and Zuzia brought their adorable children, and it was wonderful to have them running around, playing and laughing.  I even got a bit of a cuddle with Karolina's daughter, which was great.  It reminded me of how much I'm looking forward to giving Natalie and Hudson big hugs next week.  The Polish teachers taught us some nice Polish Christmas carols, too, which we all tried to sing together, with more success than I would have imagined.  Then we went out dancing.  It was one of those nights you really don't want to end, so you just keep going.  It was well worth the headache this morning.  Which didn't last, because of Aija's magical pancakes.  They're the world's best hangover cure.  I need to get the recipe before she goes.

Anyway, today was well below freezing, but Aija and I walked to Turzyn (and stopped to feed the church ducks some leftover pancakes on the way!) and spent the afternoon at the mall and the outdoor market, trying to get some Christmas shopping done.  I don't know if I was just really happy today, or if Szczecin was especially beautiful with all the perfect white frost-coated trees and people bundled up and carrying Christmas trees home, but today felt like all the reasons I used to love Christmas so much.  And it had nothing to do with buying or getting presents, nothing to do with cookies or extravagant meals.  It's just the people everywhere, getting ready to celebrate with the ones they love.  Humming Christmas carols and smiling and not thinking about how cold it is or what they have to do at work tomorrow.  Maybe I'm Pollyanna-ing a bit here, because it's been such a wonderful few months, and I'm really happy these days, but, if so, who cares?  I'm excited to go home for Christmas, and just as excited to come back in the new year and resume my life here, with these people, in this place.  What more could I ask?

But in the usual way of things, just when you're able to ask that question and not have an answer, you find one.  I came home and talked to my mom, and she told me that my grandfather is in the hospital again.  His kidneys are failing and he's going to start dialysis tomorrow.  I'm upset.  And I'm worried.  About him, about Grandma, about Mom.  But it makes going home for Christmas seem even more important.  I'm not sure if the Christmas celebrations are going to carry on as they usually do, and I won't know how long he's going to be in the hospital until tomorrow, at the earliest.  But I'll see my grandfather this Christmas either way.  I'll spend time with my family, and I'll be in exactly the right frame of mind to appreciate it.  I don't know where I stand on prayer, but I do believe in positive thinking and I believe in community.  So if anyone who reads this could keep my grandpa in your thoughts over the next few days, I would be grateful.

Even with the bad news, though - and maybe even a little bit because of it - right now all I keep thinking is what an incredible thing life is.  Even an ordinary one.  My grandfather spent his working years mostly at a brewery.  He saw the ocean for the first time in his life in the late 1990s, after he was already retired. He's stayed pretty close to home for most of his life.  He's sick now, and life isn't easy.  But he has loved my grandmother for nearly 60 years.  He has six children, dozens of grandchildren, and even quite a few great-grandchildren.  He created something real.  I'm choosing to live my life a bit differently, pretty far from where I started out.  But I think I'm doing something equally valid and real, and I hope he's proud of me, like I am of him.

Finally, as a Christmas present to you, the beautiful song that's been in my head all day:

Growing Pains (and a rant)

When I was about 21, I read a book of poetry by Galway Kinnell for a class (A New Selected Poems, left).  I remember really liking it at the time, which was surprising, because I wasn’t particularly interested in much poetry back then.  But as is often the case with books you read for school, I eventually kind of forgot about it. Then, out of nowhere, about three years ago or so, while I was in law school, a line from one of the poems came into my head while I was studying, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it, trying to remember exactly what it was.  There was nothing for it but to go look it up.  Here it is:

“ …Carriages we were babies in,

Springs that used to resist love, that gave in

And were thrown out like whores – the black

Irreducible heap, mausoleum of what we were –

It is cold suddenly, we feel chilled,

Nobody knows for sure what is left of him.”

Anyway, at the time, this line haunted me.  I remember thinking, “Yeah.  That’s it.  This is what growing up is.”  You give in to other people, to yourself, to your “future” and you become this vacant, tossed-out, wasteland that you can practically hear the wind whistling through, cold and numb and just plain finished with the world. 

Cut to today.  I woke up this morning and I was excited to start the day.  I went for a rambling run in the snow.  I had coffee with a friend, and we talked about how change happens in society.  (I’ll get to that in a minute – it ties into all of this.)  We also talked about how long I plan to stay in Szczecin, Poland, or Europe.  I went to school and talked to Zenon about arrangements for my visa.  He gave me a work permission form to take to the consulate that is valid for up to two years, should I choose to stay.  And I’m not 100% sure of much about my life right now, but I’m pretty sure of this: I’m not going back to living in the States anytime soon. 

Why?  On my walk home, the snow was driving into my face, and I was thinking about how annoyed I would have been about the weather last winter, but how beautiful I find it now.  I even took the long way home so I could walk around a bit more and take a few snow photos.  And I realized that this is how change happens in a person.  You do things that are hard.  You make friends who open your world up.  You figure out what’s important to you, and you do something about it.  I’m actually going back to being the person I was before I began wondering ‘what was left of me.’  I’ve been thinking about all the ways I can try to do some good in the world again, focusing in like a laser on all the things that are truly important and trying to let the rest of it go.  Caring about other people is important (that includes family, friends, students, co-workers, random people on the street, whoever).  How I spend the minutes and hours of my life is important.  What I look like, how much money I make, or my “career path” are not important.  

Actually, I’ve been anxious lately. My roommate is moving to Gdańsk at the end of the month.  I have a trip back to the US ahead of me, and when I come back from the States, life is going to be different than it is now.  Honestly, I’ve kind of been dreading Christmas coming.  (Sorry, everyone back home.  I really love you and I am absolutely looking forward to seeing you all again, I promise.)  And I’ve been a little worried about what’s going on with some people I care about, both here and at home.  It's been sort of painful to see how when you really care about things again, when you really love your life, you have more to lose when things change.  But today I realized this is all the way it's supposed to be.  If your life does change, and they aren't the changes you wanted, or if you get hurt, or if you have to find your bearings again, that doesn’t mean that you’ve made the wrong decisions, or that you shouldn’t have let people in, or that you failed.  It just means you have to be strong and make some new decisions.  And all  these things I care about are the things that have made me stronger.  The ability to really care about my life again has made me stronger.

And I’m not saying I have to be in Poland to feel this way, but I don’t think I can be in the US.  And here’s why: when I was talking to my friend about how change happens in society, I told him how pissed off I am at the culture of apathy back home.  We didn’t get the health-care bill we wanted?  Oh, let’s just bitch about it over a beer and then vote for basically the same people again in four years.  Hmm, or maybe we could sue someone about it… Our food has disgusting amounts of chemicals and pesticides in it, but I’ll feed it to my kid anyway, because it’s cheaper, and we’ve gotta pay for our two cars, the home we can’t afford, and all of this shit we think we need.  The only group of people raising any kind of fuss right now in the States is the goddamned Tea Party.  The people who actually have the fewest problems to bitch about.  I hate almost everything they stand for, but I can admit to grudging respect for them right now, because at least they actually care about something.  Enough to do something – anything – about it.  People in the UK have been pouring into the streets by the thousands because the government is cutting funding for education.  They don’t think it’s a privilege that only the rich should be able to take advantage of.  When I first heard about it, I thought ‘Oh, please.  You should see how bad it is in my country.’  But that’s bullshit.  It’s that bad back home because nobody bothered to stand up and fight about it.  Nobody cared if poor people went to school.  They didn't think it would be their kids.  The American Dream, and all.

Basically, the American Dream killed America (and it made me feel pretty much dead inside, too).  It’s all about the idea that if you keep your head down and work your ass off for your entire life at a ‘good’ job, maybe you can ‘own’ property (as if you can ever really own anything), maybe you’ll be one of the elite that has enough money to send your kids to school and look down your nose at the people who “didn’t work hard enough.”  No thought to things like community, compassion, passion or (heaven forbid) finding some meaning in life. No thought to anything other than material success.  And even those people who don't believe in it don't want to get off of their comfy sofas and fight back. Well, if America can’t dream any better than that, I don’t ever want to go back. I don't belong there anymore.  I care too much.

Mam Rację

Another day is come and gone here, and it's been the best one so far.  I've had some trouble sleeping the last couple of nights (whether it's the jet lag or stress, I'm not sure), but today I got up reasonably early, determined to spend another full day out in the city, exploring and enjoying it.  I ate breakfast and left my hostel, determined to make it to the Botanical Garden today.  The garden is right near the Wroclaw Cathedral on Ostrow Tumski, so far my favorite part of this city, so I began by heading toward the Cathedral.  On the way, I got sidetracked about 8 times by beautiful things I just had to see.  One thing I didn't see, though, was a lot of people.  By this time, it was almost 10:00, and on weekdays, the streets were buzzing.  I had thought that a Saturday would mean that many more people about.  In my world, Saturdays are for running errands, and beautiful Saturdays are for walking around, so I wondered just what Polish people do on Saturdays. I was just getting to the bridge when I spotted the Hala Targowa, a beautiful old building that appeared to have been converted into some kind of market.  I stepped inside and was convinced that I had found the answer to my question.  Shopping!  Obviously, they were all shopping.  This was not just a market.  It was Wroclaw's answer to the Super Walmart: you could buy anything there.  Of course, it didn't have the same atmosphere...

I didn't really want to buy anything that I'd have to lug around with me all day, and I didn't have any plans of heading back to my hostel anytime soon, so I cleared out after a brief look around.  Before long, I was back in Ostrow Tumski, standing in front of the Wroclaw Cathedral again.  I don't think I could ever get tired of looking at it.  This time, though, I went in and paid a tiny 5 zloty fee to climb a few flights of stairs and then catch an elevator to the top of one of the massive towers.  As soon as I stepped out into the open air, I saw this:

 and this:

and a whole lot more. 

My time at the top of the cathedral convinced me that I needed to get my butt to the botanical garden pronto, so I did.  And it was stunning.  Quiet, peaceful, beauty everywhere I looked.  I wandered for hours, then found a quiet place to eat lunch and read for a while.  I stopped at the cafe on the way out and ran into a couple, maybe a bit older than my parents, who clearly did not speak any Polish.  The woman sounded North American, so I asked her where she was from.  It turned out that she was from San Diego, and her husband was British.  We talked, and laughed and made travel suggestions to one another.  Pretty soon, we'd been talking for almost an hour.  Our coffee was gone.  They gave me their email address and told me to keep in touch, and they both hugged me when they left.  It is so amazing how being thrown together in a different culture is a good enough reason to be the best of friends with people you wouldn't have had anything in common with back home, after only 45 minutes.  I was incredibly glad to have met them, because it got rid of a bit of the loneliness that had been nagging at me.  After all, how long do you think you could spend with only yourself to have long conversations with?  

Anyway, after I left the gardens, I walked around some more, I went grocery shopping, and I sat down with myself at a cafe for a while, watching the people walk by two by two, almost as if onto the ark.  Young couples, old couples, new parents, skinny couples, fat couples, pairs of young women and pairs of old men.  A deaf couple even sat next to me, and when a beggar approached everyone on the patio in turn and tried to coax us into parting with our hard-earned zlotys, the deaf woman caught my eye and made a funny face at me.  I laughed, and thought that some things are universal, whether you are Polish, American, deaf, hearing, whatever... And it was then that I first thought about how little my own troubles with language really counted for anything.  They couldn't speak or hear at all, and they'd gone into the same cafe as I had and successfully ordered coffee as well.  

Walking home, I was very content about my day, but I realized something.  I hadn't fallen in love with Wroclaw on Thursday.  That was just infatuation.  It's like the sexy stranger you want to know better, but who intimidates you a bit.  Love requires knowing someone more.  And I want to love Wroclaw, which means I've got to get to know it better.  I've got to reach out and really explore and see it for what it is.

To that end, I've got to run now.  I'm going to find a new bar and grab a drink with my new Canadian friend, who I just met in my hostel common room.  More later!

The Good Land

Part One.

Oh, Milwaukee.  Why did I leave you?  You are full of good friends, fun times, fond memories, and cute babies I'm related to.  Obviously it was a well-spent weekend.  I saw a lot of people I love and I had more fun than I've had in quite a while.  For those of you who want the short version, I can sum my weekend up in the following photographs:

**Photo credit for the picture of me and Hudson goes to Natalie.

On top of all the fun, though, after the baseball game, I went out for ice cream with a group of friends.  Some of them the faithful familiars who are always up for a good time when I'm around, and others who haven't seen me in so long that they didn't even know I didn't live in Milwaukee anymore.  And there was no booze, no band playing, none of the usual social lubricant usually involved with seeing old friends.  But we all slipped so easily into hilarious stories, filthy jokes, and poking fun at one another that it felt like none of us had ever drifted apart at all.  And I realized that your real friends are your friends no matter what you've been doing or how old you get or where you live.  Looking back on younger years, it's easy to miss the carefree days, the ridiculous antics, and mostly, the old friends.  But it's cool to realize that the friends, at least, are still there.

Part Two.

So I've been thinking a lot about the distinctions between family and friends.  Often the really good friends feel just as much like family as the one you're born into.  But there are some very obvious differences.  Case in point: I've seen a lot of different reactions to my "big" life decisions the last few years, and I've been wondering why, when my family has known me for so much longer and in such closer quarters than my friends, they always seem more taken aback by my choices.  I always get the most questions, the most cautions, the most (what seems to me) reticence from those who supposedly know me best.  Why?

Here's why: family is full of hierarchies.  Parent, child.  Youngest, oldest, middle.  Brother, sister.  There's a lot of push and pull, give and take, responsibility and power.  Your family is structured to take care of one another.  So when you announce something like, "I'm going to move to Poland this summer and become an English teacher!" your family goes into protective mode.  I hope she's not going to get hurt.  Let's make sure she's thought of everything.  What if this doesn't work out?  Your family wants to try to prevent you from doing anything stupid, if possible.

Friends, on the other hand, generally view one another more or less as equals.  They've seen you pick yourself up off the floor after some big spills.  Hell, they probably got you drunk to numb the pain of the fall.  They've let you help them when they took a hit.  And if your relationship with your friends is anything like mine, they've definitely seen you do many stupider things than your family can ever hope to - and they've seen you live to tell (and laugh) about it.  So when you announce something like, "I think maybe I'd be ok with a life as crazy Auntie Rachel who is always flying in from random countries with ponchos and necklaces and exotic liquors for everybody!" your friends go into a completely different mode.  They're much more laissez-faire.  How can I help?  Let's have a huge farewell party!  I'm going to come on some of those trips with you!  Your friends not only don't want to prevent you from doing anything stupid, they kind of want you to do stupid things.  Just for the sake of doing them.  Because you can.

But you know what?  Both responses come from a good place.  They come from people caring about you.  So I guess I can stop obsessing about what it all means, and just remember that I'm awfully lucky to have people to care about me in all of these ways.

Oh!  And on a much less sappy note, read this blog. And die laughing.  Good work, Evie.