Bits from week three

I went and saw a movie last night at the Polish theatre: Anoli i Demony. Polish theatres have an isle up the center, so perfect placement for a showing is out of the question, but when you purchase your ticket, you get to choose your seat from a display akin to the ones they have for airlines. I chose one in the back, thinking that I could have a good seat and be left alone if I fell asleep. No luck. A couple of elderly Polish women sat next to me and would not stop gossiping with each other for the entire film. At one point, the phone of the woman sitting next to me goes off and she pulls it out, making the terrible ringtone even louder. I was pissed, but I started to look away, thinking that this would surely be the end of this whiny pop tune. But then she does the unthinkable; she goes, "Oh, Bartyk," and answers the phone. As she sat there talking for two minutes, I slowly leaned forward in my seat staring directly into her face, shaking my head. I would expect that extreme loathing can be understood regardless of cultural barriers, but apparently not; she kept right on talking. I couldn't believe it. This has never happened before. However, some good did come of this; as I was walking out, I started talking to the group that had sat below me about this woman's base behavior, and thus made some new friends. Go friends!

I apologize for beginning my post with this rather tangential story, but I was thinking about it; needless to say, I'm still pretty ticked off. This past week has been one of the most eventful. On Tuesday, I went to the Polish opera to see Figaro. Kasia asked me whether I liked it afterwards, and I believe I summed my feelings best when I told her that, as I didn't understand any of it, I couldn't truly enjoy it, but I could appreciate the talents of the actors as singers, especially the soprano, so I came out on top. The opera itself was in both Italian and Polish, so there were words here and there that I picked up, but that only made the experience more confusing. I spent the majority of my time attempting to deduce whether or not an actor in an orange wig, red stockings, and a fair amount of rouge was a man. I remain unsure.

Juwenalia, the giant student festival began on Thursday, and I wandered down to the square where everything was happening (I had fallen asleep earlier in the day listening to the parade of school busses with no tops, elaborate stereo systems, and tens of screaming students). One of the focuses of the celebration was the construction of interesting costumes, for which prizes would be given, and among the five hundred or so students that I could see at any given time marching through the street, there were some exquisitely designed disguises. I whipped out my camera to take a picture of the human birth canal (complete with ovaries and fallopian tubes), but the damn thing was drained of batteries. It seems like any time there is truly something worthy to take a picture of, my camera is dead, and thusly, all of my photos seem kind of trite. Rest assured, I'm doing more in Poland than taking pictures of buildings.

Right after I passed the natally garbed reveler, I was confronted by the 105th division of beer drinkers, a group of students who had dressed in fatigues and strapped beers to themselves like sticks of dynamite. The culture of Poland truly does identify a large portion of itself with beer; for example, water is twice as expensive a beer at pretty much any given restaurant. Much like other European countries bars line the streets of the town square and the surrounding areas, and it seems as if the day's events revolve around the period of drinking that can begin as early as 5 and last until 6 in the morning.

I've come to the conclusion that, for the most part, Poland is a country where taking care of one's self is not of heavy importance. This conclusion is based on several things that I have noticed, the first being the excessive alcoholic consumption, and the second being that almost everyone here smokes (And in this case, when I say everyone, I am not generalizing). All of my friends on my hall smoke, people in restaurants and malls smoke, and I can't walk 500 metres without running into an ash collector (Poland has a lot of public trash cans, and it has led to some fairly clean streets). And because everyone smokes, no one ever runs, which explains my experiences of zipping by Poles glowering at my short shorts. Brilliant Holmes! But to look at the anatomy of the general population of Poland, one would never guess at the lifestyles of the peoples. Though the men do not generally seem to be attractive, most are thin, and the women are slender and beautiful! One might be surprised by this apparent paradox as I was, but I believe that between the extensive walking that Poles do during the day and the nicotine in the blood stream, there is a dearth of overweight Poles, though that by no means represents the health of the nation. So where America may be suffering from obesity (I, personally don't believe this), the US is not necessarily the nation with the least concern for health. Lewis Black had some scathing words for the American health clubs, but at least it encourages an interest in one's bodily condition.

A couple of nights ago, I took a journey to Wroclaw that was quite the trip. It had originally been for the study abroad students (A group of 6 girls and one guy from NCSU who have paid to take classes in Polish history and ethics in Biotechnology), but none of the study abroad students wanted to go, so I took the trip with a professor of Polish history, a remarkable man (A Morehead Scholar, but I don't hold it against him), who was able to provide an abundance of quite possibly my favorite commodity: stories. We met a couple on the way out of Poznan who had met on Facebook, and I told them at the end of the trip to add me as a friend. Oh the wonders of social networking! A friend of Hanna's, biochemist, psychologist, and yoga instructor, came to meet us at the train station, and proceeded to give us a brief tour of the city from her ponderously moving blue van, which was great since it was raining and I didn't really want to drench my hair. After our brief sojourn, she took us back to her house, possibly one of the most interesting homes I have ever been in, a clash of German, Soviet, and Polish influences, and we made some Jurek for supper. I didn't recognize it at first, but as soon as I plopped in a spoonful of horseradish, I knew it as the dish that my family prepared for Easter each year. She then made tea and gave me some advice on marriage.

We decided to move on and wander about the city, so she led us to the door and gave me the number of a choirmaster in Poznan. He had asked her what part I sung, so there is a chance that, before I leave, I will be able to sing with a Polish choir! (As a reminder to myself; call the Kazmierskis, Wojciech. and the choirmaster) We then proceeded to wander about the city, delighting in the plethora of parks and churches; literally three or four of each were on every corner. We saw an African-Polish wedding, something that is apparently pretty rare, stayed at an outdoor choral concert complete with electric guitar and orchestra, and peered in the windows of the city's many antique book shops. The food I had eaten earlier wasn't agreeing with me, so we sat and enjoyed ourselves at a kind of German tavern under the Town Hall, and discussed Polish History, the religious background of the Nazi party, and ancient Slavic beliefs and some of their modern day manifestations. After a light meal, we again ventured into the town square, now lit up as the sun died beyond the European architecture, revealing a shining crescent against the beautiful cerulean that can only follow a storm. It was an amazingly romantic scene. At one point, I found myself surrounded on all sides by flower salesmen and water fountains. In the low lights of the city at night, this was breathtaking. I have fallen in love with Poland.

We sat with a guy who was coming down rather hard off of something on the train ride back. Kind of ruined the end to a perfect day, but you can't have it all.

I promise in my next post, I'll give some perspective on political feeling here and the attitudes toward the USA. I may even get one of my friends studying political science to give me some notes. I would do it now, but I've got to run and do some work on the HPLC. Cheers!