Everybody's Surfin' Now (in Poland)!

Dustin has left us. He has journeyed back to the States to move in with his girlfriend and has left three lonesome undergraduate researchers in his wake. While we are not lost without his guidance, I fear that we shall soon find that we took Daddy Dustin and the calm and work ethic that his presence inspired for granted. None of us managed to get much done today; I recovered a bit of Oligos 9 and 11, though it will take much longer to figure out what else came off the HPLC column, Jonathan found all of the absorptions of the different peak samples, though we are afraid to do an OD dilution because we don't know exactly what Prof. M. wants, and JP managed to finish all of Ghostbusters. You see what I mean. Hopefully we can get some results from Maldy tomorrow and find out if we actually made the hairpin crosslink or not. I'm optimistic though; it's only Monday. But this absence of graduate students who desperately want to publish raises some interesting questions.

For instance, did you know that there is going to be a Ghostbusters III? I'm stoked.

It's been almost two weeks now, but I keep thinking about the Farm and how much I want to be there again. The Farm is a large piece of land located outside of Warszawa that used to belong to Hanna, but when she left for the states, she was given the option of passing it to a family member or giving it up to the state. She chose the former option, and now her brother maintains the beautiful establishment that functions both as a home for his family and a resort for all types. It was here, on the first day, that I was able to sleep for 17 hours, wake up to a party just as the sun was rising at 3, do my Dr. Dre impression, and then fall back asleep. All meals were served outside in the summer kitchen, which, by the way, is the most kick ace kitchen I've ever been in, with a fire pit and everything. I've always wanted a home with a large exterior kitchen, and this place has given me some excellent ideas. I could tell you all about the food, but that would only piss you off. I will say this though; Polish people like their cold cuts for breakfast. This is not good for me, since ever time, without fail, that I have consumed red meat or ham (And the Polish eat almost nothing but ham), I have been overcome by a terrible stomach ache. The one unexpected blessing the Farm was to find sliced chicken amongst the morning's meaty appeteasers. I was stoked.

To me, the Farm was like a slap in the face of oppressive communism in Poland. Hanna also told us how it was that her brother acquired the vast amount of open field that I wandered around for 2 hours before finding my way back to the farm. This land had been taken away from its owners (Hanna said that they were probably killed. Her Grandfather, the original owner was only spared because he knew the right people) and split into several small pieces and doled out to the citizens of the new communist state. Well, many of these citizens had no use for farmland; they never were and would never be farmers. So her brother bought all of the individual tracts at cutthroat rates until he amassed the giant holding that he owns now. The system that prides itself on equalizing the classes definitely failed to stop this intelligent guy from exercising his ambitions. The whole time I was there, I just couldn't get over the fact that this whole beautiful little oasis of comfort once stood on the edge of takeover by the same people who tore down the friendly city of Warszawa and erected cold towers that playacted at power. I didn't mind laughing and enjoying myself at their expense.

Some of the things to do at the Farm; sleep for very long periods of time, take a shower in the room next to yours because something unspeakable has been done in your shower, eat heartily, chase rabbits as large as jungle cats through giant fields of poppies and tall grass, lose your bearings for several hours in giant fields of poppies and tall grass, eat heartily, dive into the lake, search for a warm spot before you achieve hypothermic conditions, pick off the leaches, sun yourself (Now a certain SOMEONE can't call me Casper), eat heartily, plan a celebratory party for being young and in Poland, dance with a older women to Surfin' Safari, eat 8 tomatoes, drag your friend off the stairs to pass out on the couch, get beat by a 11 year old at pool, start a fire (In the fireplace this time), cook sausages that you keep giving to other people so you can save room for tomatoes, exhaustedly play card games, sing selections from Les Miserables, watch "On a Boat", stop your friend from doing something ghastly to a mermaid. Then you fall asleep at 5, wake up at ten, and attempt to repeat. Though, this time, they tell you have to pack up and leave.

It was here that I decided that I would stage a coup. Violent or non-violent, whatever it takes, I made it my long term goal to unseat current representative of the USA Victor Ashe, and install myself as the Ambassador to Poland. I woke up after my 17 hour nap and since it was 3 in the morning and I didn't feel like partying, I got on the computer in the upstairs loft. For some reason, I looked up the embassy's website and I found researched the current Ambassador. Mr. Ashe is a History BA from Yale who served as Mayor of Knoxville TN for several years and is also a former state senator. There was no mention of whether or not Mr. Ashe spoke Polish, and I feel like that is something that they would have mentioned if he did. Kind of disappointing; I expected to find an Uber Polish superhero, but the reality was a letdown. I mean, what had this guy really done to merit an Ambassadorship to Poland? Yeah, he did a couple of things with Chelm when he was mayor, but really, anyone can do that. And history? Nothing on history majors, but this is not what Poland needs right now. Poland wants to establish a stronger relationship with our scientific community in order to bolster their own international standing in the sciences, so one would think that a logical choice for Ambassador to Poland would be an engineer or scientist. Hanna was also telling me that Poland is in a generational shift of the political sector; offices currently held by aging remnants of the communist era will soon be phased out by what she feels is the most important part of a revitalized Poland: youthful diplomats. Poland used to be famous for its diplomats, but this status suffered greatly under Russia's heel. Now there is a chance to regain that reputation through education of the youth, who know Poland by more than communist rule.

This is where I come in; a young and ambitious engineer, fascinated by Poland and his familial ties to the country, eager to learn the language and to watch others follow in his footsteps to the land of the White Eagle. Makes sense right? And who would you trust more with USA-Poland relations, A guy named Victor Ashe or Garyk Sadowy? Not a hard choice. I just have to contribute the right amount to the right Presidential campaign when the time comes. And as my first action, I will level the US Embassy (An incredibly ugly building) and build a one story farm in its place. Then, as Hanna suggested, I'll buy the Russian Embassy.

I met my good friend's Godfather and his family this past weekend. It's been hard to find things to do of late, since I come out of the lab at 9, exhausted and not wanting to do much else than eat and read foreign literature or watch Afro Samurai cartoons while I do pull ups in my door frame, so I was hoping that I could do something diverting with some Polish friends. We decided to go to the place where it is thought that Poland was baptized in 966, making Poland, for the first time, a true state ruled by the crown prince. The prince had a small, well-defended island in the middle of a lake where he had built a stone palace and a small chapel. We took a ferry over to the island and walked around the ruins of the stone structures. It was intriguing at first to see buildings more than a thousand years old, but after a few minutes of standing around looking at the rocks (All of the signs were in Polish, so they had to be translated laboriously for me), I found less enjoyment in the actual attractions and more diversion in the beautiful, summer day. That was when I realized what day it was.

The 21st of June is St. John's day, known as the longest day of the year, and there is an ancient Slavic myth that goes along with this day (One of my favorite pastimes is world mythology, my favorites being Polish and Norse). It was said that, on St. John's day, the peoples would go into the forests of Poland and search for what is called a fire flower, the bloom of the fern. They were incredibly hard to find, and even when one stumbled across one deep within the ancient woods, the hunt did not end there. Small demons and ifrits would attempt to distract the hunter from picking the flower. Often, they would succeed in preventing the hopeful picker from even approaching the flower, but with enormous strength of will, one could resist the demon's antics and wrest the flower from the magical fern. Bearers of fire flowers were said to be blessed with many boons, including the ability to read minds and deduce the locations of hidden treasures. I told my host about this and was surprised to find that he knew the myth! Out of all of the Polish people I have had the gall to tell my tales to (Most have simply laughed at me); he was the only one who knew what I was talking about. And what's more, he knew about some of the more risqué sides to the myth. For example, the search for fire flowers, or in modern times, the hunt for mushrooms, in the forest was often an excuse to escape accompanied by many lovers to a secluded place where giant sexual orgies took place. I was quite impressed.

I am disappointed in myself, however; it was St. John's day and I was in Poland, and what did I do that night? I fell into my sleeping bag, exhausted in my bones and with a swollen face, the product of some unknown allergic curse. This was no way to spend the evening; I should have been deep within the woods searching for the legendary flower. But in a way, maybe this is good. Now I have to come back to Poland. And when I biome Ambassador, I will fly over ever June 21st to canvass the forests, seeking destiny in the bloom of the fern.

This post has become quite lengthy, but I feel that I have made too many allusions to my favorite Polish myth to let it go unexplained any longer. In addition to the fire flower, I am seeking another Polish Artifact of great power, though this one is undoubtedly the more elusive. The Magic Belt of Poland was a cloth belt inscribed with the ancient runes form the Key of Solomon and the Grimorie Infernval that Polish Knights of the Jagellonian Golden Age carried into battle, held high above their heads. The legend of the Belt tell us that the Knights bearing it could summon the aid of both the Angelic host and the Infernal armies to the battlefield and that anyone riding under the belt would be impervious to any weapon. A true boon of God. The Belt itself actually existed, and it was being displayed at the Warszawa Museum of Archeology until 1939, when Poland was invaded by Nazi forces. Whether the Belt was destroyed, plundered, or just simply lost, as many things were at that time, is unknown, but it is my ultimate animus to find the lost Magic Belt of Poland, and to wear it proudly as the #1 Headband, bearing it back to its rightful place upon Polish soil.

Can you not see this? Me, riding into Poland wearing the Magic Belt of Poland about my head with a Fire Flower at my hip, the powers of the ancient Polish orders at my beck and call. I would be appointed Ambassador immediately. This sounds a lot like the return to a feudal Poland that I pooh-poohed earlier, but my vision is not to establish a line of knights and kings, but to unite the lost powers of ancient Poland with the dawn of the new Poland. I shall await that day with a great fire in my heart.

Anyway, that's what I'm talking about when I mention the Belt, and I was so close to getting some proof of its existence for the doubting Thomases who think I made up the whole thing from the Archeological Museum in Warszawa, but I arrived at its gates 15 minutes after they stopped selling tickets. But no matter; I am revisiting that stronghold of history this Friday, before I leave for France. Soon I shall have my documentation for you all (Though I will probably still be laughed at).

I'm getting stoked about France; apparently, I'm taking a river cruise on Sunday. This trip is going to mentally tax me when I end up spending more money in three days than I have for the past two months, but according to Jonathan, I've done my hobo thing long enough (Do I honestly have no pride to be taking what other people haven't eaten and making a meal of it? I would call that thrifty).