Sunday, March 31, 2013

Christ is Risen! Chrystus Zmartwychwstał!

He is Risen Indeed!  Prawdziwie Zmartwychwstał!

The most recent theories surrounding the Shroud of Turin believe that the image was created due to what could only be explained as something akin to a burst of "exceptional radiation." Interesting. And I think Rembrandt does a decent job here of providing a glimpse of what that might have been like. (Wikipedia info)

An excerpt from the Paschal Homily of St. John Chrysostom (again, Wikipedia). I think it's lovely.


O death, where is thy sting?
O Hades, where is thy victory?
Christ is risen, and you are overthrown!
Christ is risen, and the demons are fallen!
Christ is risen, and the angels rejoice!
Christ is risen, and life reigns!
Christ is risen, and not one dead remains in a tomb!
For Christ, being raised from the dead, has become the first-fruits of them that have slept.
To Him be glory and might unto the ages of ages.
Amen.


I hope you are all having a wonderful Easter Sunday, and continue to have a wonderful Easter season.





Sunday, March 24, 2013

Week in Review: Picture and Video dump



Some things happened in the last week...

- we dyed some Easter eggs
- we planted some plants, sort of
- someone turned 7
- someone painted her face blue
- palms were waved
- chocolate was eaten illegally...twice
- someone danced a silly dance


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red cabbage.. would have been better if we had white eggs but brown was all we could get...the water was a beautiful shade of purple though! (science, art, home ec.)

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onion skins... these turned out the best, we also used coffee grounds and turmeric, those turned out ok. Again, sort of need white eggs.

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Growing water-cress in cotton balls in eggshells. Basically mini chia pets. They are already growing on our windowsill, I hope I can arrange them on Easter Sunday to look like "new life", something green growing, that would be nice, since THIS happened all week...


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The cake turned out great. I found the Cocoa Powder, all was glorious UNTIL I added the icing. The cake was still warm (it couldn't be helped)  and the icing began to melt as soon as it was atop the ciasto. Oh well. It tasted delicious and Hejjo was happy!

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Poor girl, really needs some chap-stick. AND SOME FACE WASH!


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Palm Sunday! In Poland you bring your own palms to be blessed. Dyed grain, dried palms and dried flowers are all bundled together. Lots of variations include paper flowers, different plants, ribbon. We went classic and simple this year (re: I'm exhausted and these kids are easy to please).  ;)

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Saturday morning.

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Sunday morning. Clearly he hasn't figured out that instead of taking the time to unwrap all the chocolates, he should spend his few precious moments alone EATING what he has already unwrapped before someone finds him. See that bottle of seeds sitting there, waiting to be sprinkled? Yeah, a friend showed me hers, I copied her, and now we have both jinxed ourselves.  Spring is never coming. I blame those seeds.



Thursday, March 14, 2013

Clash of Cultures: Diplomacy

From Merriam-Webster (the dictionary) : skill in handling affairs without arousing hostility; tact

Example #1:

You recently bought a new hat. It looks like this...



You aren't quite sure when you get it home whether or not the saleslady was telling the truth when she said you looked "absolutely fab" so you ask a couple dear friends to tell you the truth...

"What do you think?"

American friend: Oh my gosh, what an awesome hat! I would never have the guts to buy that, you are so crazy! But you know, will you even get a chance to wear it out of the house?  I mean, it's pretty outrageous, and you're such a casual dresser. It would be a shame to pay all that money and then never wear it...

Polish friend: That hat is hideous.



Example #2:

You're on vacation with two of your best buds, one American and one Polish. You have brought along your new swimsuit that you bought on sale at the end of last Summer. Over the winter you have eaten one two many Santa Claus cookies and your new suit is a little snug. You look a little like this...



"What do you think about my new suit? It's been a year since I bought it, maybe it's too tight after all?"

American friend: Oh my goodness, that is adorable! You are so smart to shop when all the sales are going on, I always forget to do that. It might be a bit tight in a couple places but nothing that a cute beach cover up and a bit of a tan can't fix. If you're feeling really self-conscious you can throw this cute sundress over it and just take it off when you go in the water.

Polish friend:  You look fat.


Example #3:

You decide to move to a new country. You tell your friends.  You look a little like this...

This is supposed to be "trepidation"


American friend: How exciting! That will be such an amazing adventure for your family. I know there will be difficult moments but you can handle it! Good Luck!

Polish friend:  You'll be back in a year.


All of my American friends are thinking, "wow, those Poles are mean jerks, why would you even want a Polish friend?" And my new (although might not want to be my friend (s) anymore) Polish friends are thinking, "hey, we're not that mean, we don't sound like that!"

The truth my friends is that Poles are not mean, I do like many Polish people, and yes, Poland, you do sound like that. Sorry, it's just the truth.*

Being raised in America means you are raised with American sensibilities. You learn from an early age that it is rude and can be hurtful to be blunt and upfront. You only say exactly what you mean at times of high emotion. Otherwise you do what I like to call, "padding". You pad your feelings and reactions with words that will ease the criticism or contradiction you are about to unleash. Americans know how to do this and, more importantly, they expect others to do this. America is a huge country. Most people will only encounter other cultures on vacation, if that. Americans are used to dealing with other Americans. We all know how this works. We are experts at, what I like to call, DIPLOMACY (see above for definition). And we expect this same kind of diplomacy in return.

Enter the Pole.

Poles tell you exactly what they mean and they say it exactly how it pops into their heads. There is no padding any where and quite often what they have to say will hit you like a ton of bricks.. This is just the way it is. It is not because they are mean.  On the contrary, Poles, as a whole, are extremely welcoming and warm people. Incredibly helpful to foreigners and eager to make things easier for you when they realize you are new and out of your comfort zone. All that being said, they can sometimes come across as abrupt, abrasive, or at the very least, insensitive. It is not their intention I am sure. It just is the way they talk.

My only criticism being on both sides of this incredibly interesting difference between the two cultures is that they are somewhat incompatible... unless... they give each other the benefit of the doubt and assume the best of one another. (surely a lot of situations in the world would better if we all did this a bit more, but here we are). If I assume that every Pole that has ever said something to me in this unfiltered and sometimes harsh manner was trying to hurt me, or take their comment personally, I would never have been able to marry Martin, and I certainly wouldn't be living in this country. Now, when a comment or reaction comes quickly out of nowhere, I inwardly laugh. Oh, how this would sound to another American who hasn't had all the practice I have had over the past few years! You have no idea! And, most of the time, I just resume conversation and tuck that one (or two) comment away and ponder/laugh over it later. Likewise, Poles have to remember that Americans do expect this, so don't be too alarmed when they call you out on it and expect an explanation of your attitude, or at the very least, give you a cold shoulder now and then. You've hurt them. You don't know why, but trust me, it was probably something you said. Not what you said, but how you said it.

Neither way is better of course. Before I was seasoned I was sure that the Polish way of speaking was just incredibly forward and direct, sometimes even rude. Surely they know how that sounds to other people! But if you think about it, figuring out what Americans are trying to say half the time, and not knowing if you were actually just complimented or insulted, could be really frustrating for an outsider. Get to the point, America!

So, I offer a solution. When you are talking to an American, do them a favor and try not to be quite so... direct. It hurts our delicate sensibilities. And for us Americans... lighten up! It only stings the first couple of times. After that, you become immune. ;)

 IRONY: *Disclaimer, to ease Martin's sensibilities... OBVIOUSLY, this is not true for EVERY Pole. Some Poles can beat around the bush just as well as an American, and I have heard from plenty of Americans who can't hold their tongue. Obviously  it is not ALL, and EVERY, or any of that other such nonsense. Generalizations are...and that is Clash of Cultures.










Monday, March 11, 2013

The hardest things right now.

Felt it was about time to give a little update on my neurosis and how I'm gettin' along with them. I'm still winning, but just barely.

I have quite a few posts written in the "drafts" section of the blog. Sometimes I will spend an hour or so writing and then never publish something  All in all, you should all be really thankful I don't. They are mostly garbage. One post that I have never gotten around to publishing was the one titled "What I miss the most". The reason: It's keeps changing, getting longer, sometimes (rarely) removing things, sometimes changing the type to bold or italics for emphasis. Oh, but I can't post it. Along with my neurosis there is also a good measure of guilt that builds when you get to live in a free house  have plenty of food on the table and an amazingly healthy and understanding family surrounding you...and then you complain about something. Are you kidding me? I'm gonna complain about the lack of my specific brand of Peanut Butter?! Ridiculous.

But...

...I will share the top three things that are most difficult. I mean, I get to complain a *leetle* bit every now and then...Are you ready for this? Actually, I should stop right there and warn you that this is not a tear jerking, "I miss my friends and family" post. You are still gonna roll your eyes at the end and wonder what the beef is about but I figure I should be honest because other than missing the sweet Texas air (oh, it is so sweet) and people you know me, what I miss are real, tangible, and explainable things.

1) FOOD
2) Clothes
3) Hobbies

So, as you can see, I've really narrowed it down for you. ;)

1) If anyone tries to tell you anything about Poland that they "know" it will include two things, Poles invented Vodka, and Polish food is delicious. The jury is still out on the Vodka thing, just ask any Russian, but hands down, everyone will nod and agree that the food is delicious in Poland.  Really outstanding. The sausage/meat, the cheese/dairy, the bread, really, just all of it. And they're right. The food here is very good... if you're a tourist, or a native. Visiting here in the past I couldn't wait to get off the plane and grab some good country bread, some fresh country butter and some tasty country Kabanos (my favorite style of Kielbasa/Sausage). You can go to any outdoor market and there will be some farmer or his wife, or both of them, selling fresh hunks of butter, churned that morning  from their own cows. There will be cheese to go with it and the next stall over is selling the bread on which to slather them. We have farmer's in our family so we get hand made fresh linked kielbasa by the pounds every other month. It is truly delicious. It as if you have never tasted these things in your life until you taste them this fresh. And now that your mouth is watering I am here to say thaaaaat, I am sick of it. I don't want any more sausage.  I don't want any more country bread and I don't want any more white cheese! I want my HEB soft whole wheat pre-packaged bread, I want my huge block of Colby jack generic brand cheese, and I want some Boars Head ham off the bone. No, these things don't necessarily taste better and they certainly aren't healthier, but they are my tastes. I can recreate just about any dish here that I made in America, but it never tastes the same. The ingredients all have the same name, but they taste different. Different cows eating different kinds of grass make different dairy. Different pigs eating different kinds of slop = different ham, and the bread, well, I just want some classic American sandwich bread (for the peanut butter, of course!). The version they have here comes out of the bag as if it has already been lightly toasted. Weird. I lament to Martin often how I am tired of the food, the tastes. He doesn't understand, but then again, he will eat anything.

Food confession: I have not drank (drunk? drunken? dranken? Idk) a single glass of milk since we have been in Poland, this includes adding chocolate to it, hot or cold, and cereal. Why? I can't stand the taste of Polish milk. I use it in my cooking and in my tea and coffee but I cannot drink it or have it in cereal. How many bowls of cereal have I eaten since we've been here? Answer: 0. (Poles will not think this is a huge deal, but American are shedding a tear for me right now...late night snacks, cravings, etc.) (also, milk is not really drunk here the same way it is in America, and Poles don't eat that many cookies so they don't understand the whole chocolate chip cookie and milk thing...oh, I miss it!)

Food confession: I still can't stand Polish desserts and don't understand why everything has to have so many layers and so many different flavors and nuts and creams and fruits added.  And what's more, I have yet to make a successful "American style" birthday cake. I am really upset about this actually. Hejjo's birthday is this week and I don't even know if I can find Cocoa Powder here ( I haven't looked for it yet, that's how far ahead I have planned. Yowzers!). Anyone?

Food confession: If I have to eat one more bowl of Rosol, made by my own hand or someone else's, I am not joking when I say, I might be sick.

Anyway, as you can see, food is a huge one. I'm not even that big of an eater. Eating is not one of my favorite past times or anything, I just really miss the taste of America. If that's even a thing. (also, last thing, I promise, food changes the way YOU smell, your body, your breath, your children's body and breath, your body odor...it's interesting....and I could do with less of it, mkay?)

2) Before we came I bought some new clothes. This is the longest I have gone in our marriage and not been pregnant, which means I am finally a stable weight. Which means I can buy real clothes. Not only "cheapest thing I could find" because I might not fit into them next month, and not purposely too big or too small because I'm gaining or losing weight. I was excited about these clothes, I waited for the sales and ordered them from here and shipped them to Martin's parents. Martin's father brought them all over for me in a suitcase a couple months after we got here.

I shrank all of them within the first two months of their arrival. And by all of them I mean all of them and by shrunk I mean  you can see my post-four babies stomach when I raise my arms (and don't no one want to see that). This was due to my complete idiocy in forgetting about the whole Celsius and Fahrenheit conversion with the washer (AND the washers here have no cold setting...they MAKE you heat the water at least a little bit, this doesn't make sense) and not understanding the new dryer ( the owners manual came in Spanish, Dutch, and Slovenian) I have given most of them to Martin's cousins who are shorter than I and kept a few pieces for around the house. I was really upset about this. I still am to tell the truth. Why? Because the only things I can seem to find in Polish stores by the way of clothes are the most uber trendy styles you can think of. Even the khakis are "skinny". Khakis! What do people wear to church here?! (well, I know what they wear to church, exactly what they wear to the mall, which is also what I wear to church because I can't find  a single pair of slacks under 50 dollars that doesn't show off every curve God gave me and there are no skirts that even attempt to reach the knee!)!

Deep breath.

Clothes confession: I bought some clothes recently from Land's End UK. Shipping was expensive (re: not free) and return shipping on items I couldn't wear/didn't fit was astronomical. Like the return shipping was the same price as the clothes I kept. It makes me nauseous to think about it.

3) I've already mentioned this one a few times. The only dead horse around here I like to beat (whew, have fun with that one, my Polish readers ;) ) is how bad the air quality is in the winter. So I'll spare you the whole, "I wish they had a Hobby Lobby here" speech. I do, and Poland, just sayin', you are really behind in not having a store like that. I don't even know how long 20 Pasmanteria's (defined as: a place where you find everything you need, to sew anything you could possible imagine, EXCEPT the fabric...dun dun dunnunununn) in a 5 mile radius can last, but gosh darn it, you're givin' it your all!  Right now I am trying to make Lina's Easter dress. I have made her special occasions dresses for at least the last 2 years now and I really want to continue to do so. Buying the fabric, buying the accessories and finding the perfect pattern is so easy in America. Here, well, half the stuff they just don't have readily available (all of it I have to buy online, all of it), and the other half, I don't even know where to start looking. It's just not trendy here, I get that. It's just frustrating. Really frustrating. (interfacing, anyone know where i can find it?)

Hobby Confession: My mom and brother are coming in 6 weeks. You better believe I am ordering fabric and yarn for them to bring over in their suitcases. I don't even care. (imagine nose in air, arms crossed across chest and stomping of my foot...)

In the end, honestly, it's not really any one of these things or any of the other hundred things that are different. It's not any one thing. It's all of them, put together. It's navigating them, researching them, discovering them...steeping in them...pickling in them. Every thing I do, some days, feels like I have concrete blocks tied to my feet because I have to wade through the differences to find the one or two things I am familiar with and then turn around and try to make them work. Half the time failing.

I asked Martin for a plane ticket home last week. Looked up flights and everything. Why? Not to see my family and friends. In fact, quite the opposite. If I had a plane ticket home right now I would drive to the nearest grocery store, buy all the foods I have missed, drive out to the hill country and sleep and eat, and watch American T.V. for a whole week straight, by myself. I would go to my favorite fabric shops and yarn stores and browse, all by myself, and drink Dr. Pepper fountain drinks. I wanted a plane ticket home so I could just be (all by myself). To be able to let my shoulders down for even just a day or two, to un-clench my jaw, and let my mind not constantly be searching for the right word, or my ears not listening so intently to try and understand. To give my senses a much needed rest.

 I'm exhausted.

And just so I don't come off sounding like a Sour Susan, I'm putting all this out there for really two reasons. I like to share these things.  It's helpful, and I like help, you like help, we all like help. And I think it's important to keep things in perspective for anyone who may be thinking of a big move like this to, well, anywhere. You should totally do it by the way, it's amazing...it's just not sunshine and lollipops all the time. And that's ok too. Tiring. But ok. :)




Friday, March 8, 2013

Guest Post: Martin

I asked Martin a while back to give a little economic comparison between the U.S. and Poland. Taxes, where our money goes, cost of living, etc. He demanded that before he tells people how America stinks in every way and how Poland is far superior in every way, that he should first introduce himself. I agreed. This way when, inevitably, half my readers start throwing hamburgers and the other half start throwing Pierogi, they will know who they are stoning. (could that last line get any cheesier? I doubt it)

Onward:

P.S. His first paragraph is soooo Freshman College English class essay but he said to roll with it, so I am, just so you know that he knows and that I know and that we're both o.k. with it...  I'll stop talking now.

P.P.S. Also, when I was younger, like Elementary School, I didn't know that you were supposed to write "P.P.S." when you wanted to add another post-script. I thought, "surely it must be P.S.S, otherwise it would be P.P.S. and that would spell (whispering) pee-pee-es...gross!" Later I learned I was wrong, and yet, not.

Martin strongly dislikes everything I have just written and is embarrassed to share this blog post with me but its my blog soooooo....



What's your name? Even that simple question has had more than one answer in my lifetime: In Poland, I’ve always been “Marcin,” while in the States I go by “Martin.” I consider these to be translations of the same thing and, like any other translatable word, have chosen to use the one which fits my audience’s primary language (and, yes, I do introduce myself as “Martín” to Spanish speakers – it always sounds so cool said back to me). What happens when my audience is multi-lingual, you ask? Well in case of a tie, the nod has always gone to Poland. And before I’m strong-armed into writing posts comparing the socio-economic realities of my two homes, I thought I should first say a few words about where this “nod” comes from.

I grew up in Poland, sort of. My father works for renowned universities in Poland and Texas; as a result, I spent my childhood bouncing between the two. I won’t bore you with the details but suffice to say that we changed our country of residence about every two-three years, until high school. And, even though by that time I had spent roughly the same amount of time between them, I always considered myself to have been “born and raised in Poland…while taking trips to the U.S.” No doubt a lot of this has to do with the fact that my parents spoke to us exclusively in Polish and worked hard to cultivate a Polish community in Austin. I know now how much work this required and I thank God every day for my parents’ dedication.

Whatever the reason, my identity during childhood was decidedly “Polish.” I loved studying Poland’s history (which reads like a freakin’ action novel, btw – if you haven’t already done so, grab any old link from Wikipedia, clear your weekend, and dive in), took great pride in wielding what is commonly agreed to be one of the world’s most difficult languages, perked up any time Poland was even mentioned and generally reveled in being Polish. I remember this pride distinctly from my earliest years, despite the fact that my earliest memories come from one of my “trips” to the States.

As I was saying, my international “bouncing” reversed directions in high school. We’d still go back to Poland but only during the summers and about every other year. Pretty soon I became “born and raised (and summering) in Poland but living in Texas.” With each day though, surrounded by my fully-American peers, the first part of that description became fainter. And with each bi-yearly trip, compared to my fully-Polish family, that faintness became more apparent. It culminated during one particular trip during my early college years, when I heard several people tell me that “my Polish was very bad.”

I’d accepted that I’d always be Polish and at least a little Texan but now the pendulum had swung too far. My final years of college saw me very involved in the Polish students’ organization, writing my senior thesis about the tourism industry of 1990s Poland, reading over an hour of Polish news each day and searching for employment in Krakow. I simply had to go back, to reconnect, to realign, to rebalance. And I did. And it was great. Until I realized that there was something even stronger than Poland controlling my destiny…

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Picture taken in Croatia, Martin clearly looking longingly toward Poland, I am simply trying to touch my tongue to the roof of my mouth to make my face look slimmer for the picture. Priorities!
Which brings me to my point: it’s very difficult to define what it means to “be Polish” (or any other nationality) these days. Distances are getting smaller, people are becoming more mobile and the world is simply changing. But whatever it means to “be” anything, I believe it’s largely influenced by one’s parents (and especially one’s mother… especially if you homeschool), one’s peers and one’s surroundings – and largely in that order. Irony would have it, that my ardent desire to reconnect with Poland is what made me realize that the mother of my children was going to be a Texan. Like I said, that much was beyond my control. But if my children were to think of themselves as “Polish” (and Texan), I had to work hard to level the playing field. This is why I make an effort to speak to my children exclusively in Polish and why we live in Poland. Yup, it’s all Olivia’s fault.  :P






Wednesday, March 6, 2013

In search of sun - Croatia

We left last Thursday for Croatia. We drove. It took us 13 hours. We stayed 2 full days. We came home Monday. We drove. It took us 12 hours. We all made it safe and sound, no problems. Lots of laundry to do, school to resume and work to begin. It was beautiful and I dare say we brought back a  little of that sun and warmth with us to Krakow. It has been amazing outside here ever since we got back. Warm and sunny. Thank goodness, I think we were all ready for a little more sun...
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Leaving Poland
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Our GPS system. It never runs out of batteries.

We stayed in an apartment in Pula, Croatia which is a coastal town. It is a stone's throw away from Italy and everyone there says "Ciao" to greet you although Croatian is more similar to Polish than Italian. Almost like a Slavic Italy. It's a beautiful little village and just the right size for a 2-4 day trip. It was warmer than Krakow although still a bit chilly in the shade with a breeze which is why we are all wearing our coats. No bother though, it was sunny! We strolled around the first day and saw the sights and the second day we spent walking on the beach and relaxing. And then we headed home. Short and sweet.
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What we woke up to.
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6th largest Roman amphitheater in the world. The most intact one in the world.
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Arch of the Sergii. 
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Temple of Augustus.
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Water! (and kids, but the clear water is why I post this...please don't look at their hair)
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Sunset from our balcony.

I wanted to post a few more photos but I am having an issue with photos and the blog right now so these are only a few of the many we took. A small sampling, if you will. And upon return to Krakow amid the first full day back (yesterday - warm and sunny) the neighbor called Martin over to give him a package that had been delivered while we were away. She couldn't bring it over herself because it was too heavy. And here is what was inside...

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Care package of Awesome.
That's a lot of cheese and other deliciousness courtesy of good friends in 'merica.
Thank you, friends!