I am reading once again The Brothers Karamozov (rather, beginning it again) and I am intrigued by Fyodor Karamazov. He is supposed to be “one of the most loathsome characters in all literature,” and I am finding I pity him more than loath him. Granted he was utterly wretched to his children (and that might indeed be cause enough to call him loathsome), but he is not so evil as one might expect. Perhaps it’s not that he is evil as much as he is utterly apathetic about everything and everyone except himself and his concerns. He is childish, and I guess I pity him more than loath him for that. I am longing to talk to someone about this book . . .
Results For "Month: June 1996"
General Notes
Every day there is a woman who balances on the edge of the first seat of the bus, getting off around two or three stops after I get on. She has short hair which is frayed and silvery. Her body is more round than the average Pole, and she always wears a skirt with a gray sweater, and her veins stand out clearly on her pale legs. A couple of days ago the bus driver applied a bit too much force [on the brake pedal] a bit too quickly. She tumbled out of her seat with a thud and cracked her head against the door of the glass enclosure around the driver. No one offered to help; no one asked her if she was okay. We PCVs stood watching, remembering that Chrissy told us that it is often better not to get involved. A bit ironic, for it is too late for us not to get involved . . .
Immersion
I survived another day of immersion with only one day left. That is actually thrilling. Those final sessions are hell, truly. By that time my mind has completely shut down, no questions asked. To try to jump-start it would be a great waste of time. Fortunately, the teachers realize how tired we are (and they are certainly more exhausted) and the final lesson is some sort of game. Of course we don’t have the luxury of completely shutting our minds off. They’re “educational” games.
Back to Radom
I made it back to the modest but nice place I now call home. We had a nice day. We went back to the Rynek for a while, then headed to the Jewish district. We toured a synagogue that had been turned into a museum, including a portion on nearby concentration camps (Auschwitz).
Kraków was more than I was really ready for. There was just too much: The children’s parade Saturday; all the architecture; the cafes and restaurants we went to; the dancing in the square this afternoon (and the accompanying drunk). It was all too much. I kept making mental notes – feeding the pigeons, walking in the rain, the age of everything surrounding me – but I don’t think I’ll ever remember it all. All I can say is that it was a truly magnificent experience.
What surprised me was the number of Americans we met. It seemed that we were everywhere. I guess Kraków is the city most visited by tourists. It stands to reason that we would meet many Americans.
There are so many churches in the old city. I couldn’t help but be awed by their beauty and simultaneously repulsed by the relative waste of money. How many people could have been helped by all the resources poured into those silly buildings?
First Trip to Krakow
I never really thought I would be in this city. To be honest, I never thought about this city. But nevertheless, here I am.
There’s so much to write about – I’ll just mention a few things: The expansive city center was amazing: a church at one corner, the huge center building, the city tower. It was all so overwhelming. The castle (Wawel) was a prime example of mixed architecture. The cathedral was Gothic; the palace was Romanesque; there was probably a bit of every other style thrown in for good measure. There are more pubs and cafes than could be imagined and many of them are in the basements (many of which date to the fourteenth century). We ate an Italian place and had green, salty pasta. Too much to write about – I need my computer.
At Training Facility
Settling In
We’ve done two school visits this week and it has me really wanting to teach. It’s in my blood – a sort of addiction, I guess. I’m eager to get to my site. However, I don’t feel comfortable enough with Polish yet to be cast into Polish society without American contacts. Of course, we’ll have tutors which will help a great deal. (I heard today than in the near future we’ll be getting Polish grammar books – are they teasing us? I hope not.)
It’s amazing how one day can be so awful – like yesterday – then all of a sudden, out of the blue, one has the best day in recent memory. This evening has been just amazing . . .
First of all, dinner was incredible. We had a completely ryby based meal. The main course was a rice-fish-pickle dish that was outstanding. Also we had fish patee and a bit of fried fish. It was incredibly good! Not only that, but I had a limited conversation with Teresa in Polish. It was so exciting to hear the dish described in Polish and understand what was in it.,
After dinner Piotr and I cleaned up and had a grand time. We carried on wonderfully. Afterwards we went into the living room and talk turned to the motivations of US foreign policy. It was an intriguing conversation . . .
It’s so interesting to hear a central-European on US policy. Piotr is of the opinion that everything the US government does is motivated by political and (more often) fiscal interests. Even the Peace Corps is a political move. Of course he is right – the US government does nothing for philanthropic (sp?) reasons. Still, it’s almost difficult to hear from a non-American. I wanted to agree with him and yet I also tried to defend the US (if that is possible). Still, how does one explain why his government pays farmers not to produce a certain amount of wheat (so that the international price will remain high) when there are billions of children around the world who are starving to death? It’s impossible – one merely has to admit that his government is wrong . . . in a major way.
One last comment: learning Polish is becoming vastly more rewarding. It is incredible to realize that I am using a language more and more that only a matter of weeks ago I knew next to nothing about. It is so vastly (and wonderfully) different from learning a language in a classroom in the States. Here I don’t pretend to buy a beer for practice; I do it in reality. I don’t practice buying a bus ticket; I actually do it. I’m not just learning to speak Polish; I’m learning to live it. And it’s vastly different.
Another storm is rolling in – the third in as many weeks. The weather here is so very strange.
Today we got our medical kits, including X condoms. It’s amazing how it has been assumed from day one that we will be having sex while in the Peace Corps. Americans (people in general?) seem now to view sex as a right.
Church and State
Yesterday they had the presidential elections in Russia. In Poland that is easily and obviously an issue of great concern. Many Poles feel that the only reason Russia doesn’t control Poland now is a matter of strength. This uneasy fear is echoed in my host brother’s casual comments about Russia when he refers to it as “Big Brother.” Many feel that a win by Zyuganov will mean an inevitable contention with Russia. The international edition [of Newsweek] expressed it most succinctly: “Red Alert” the cover reads, and many (if not all, even the youngest) Poles are turning their attention once again eastward with anxious eyes.
One interesting thing about Poland ten years ago was the role of the church. It played a part much like the church in Latin America. I’m not sure I would say that there was (or is) a sort of liberation theology – I don’t know the nature of the sermons at that point (or this point). Yet, without regarding the message in the church, the connection is obvious when one considers the political nature of the social forum provided by the Polish church of the 80’s. People talked at church about social ills and how they might be corrected. They discussed various methods of dealing with a corrupt and oppressive government. They did not go there to socialize or to see and be seen – they went there to plan action, and to monitor previous courses of action. I would like to find out what kind of sermons were being preached; what role did the church officially take?
It seems that in America only the church has taken on such a passive role. Yet with all the pro-life demonstrations and [the] various religious political action committees, that trend is in the process of changing. All the same Americans have generally not had any oppression to react against. The obvious exception is where the church in America has been most active: MLK was after all a preacher first and a political activist second – at least initially.
Today we observed an English [class] in a Polish liceum; tomorrow or Wednesday we might have to teach. This is particularly difficult to prepare for. We know nothing about the [students] we are suppose to teach (including [their] level). It is next to impossible to prepare for this lesson, if not completely impossible.
Culture Shock?
I woke up this morning with thoughts of home haunting my first conscious moments. Just as happened last Saturday, I thought of what I would be doing if I was back at home. It was nothing too overwhelming; it was just a little pang that deepened somewhat when I realized it would be two years before I could do that again. All of a sudden two years seemed like a desperately long time. I look forward to these years (I think – I hope), but in some ways I’m already longing to return. It’s that same comfortable ease that I miss. I have to work at almost everything here. I decided not to do much of anything this weekend just because of the difficulty involved. Once again it’s simply a question of language.
It already feels like I’ve been here for months and it has only been two weeks since I left. When the culture shock hits full-force in three or four months it will feel like it’s been years since I was in the States. It will be years until I return and it’s such a frightening prospect. I dread the long, dark winter and the total isolation from all that I know. Talk about culture shock.
Host Family
I haven’t written about my host family very much, but I am eager to do so. In short, they are wonderful and we get along incredibly [well]. I finally learned my host mother’s name (Teresa) the other day and I think we get along better and better every day. We communicate a bit in Polish, a bit in English, and [with] a lot of signs and patience. She has begun helping me every evening with my Polish homework – she does it very eagerly!
Piotr and I get along better and better too. We have a lot of laughs together and our communication is improving.
One amusing thing that is becoming a regular occurrence in the house is that Piotr talks to his mother in English, saying things that are playfully and lovingly insulting (seems an impossible combination of words). Tonight, for instance, he was carrying on with her about tea. “Can’t you understand that when I create something, when I make something which is entirely new, I want to enjoy it!?” It’s much like I carry on with my own mother, except I do it in her mother tongue.
Getting along so well with my host family really helps to make this a more livable (even enjoyable) experience. Their generosity and flexibility has made my transition into Polish culture much more relaxing. Tonight I thought to myself, “I am living in Poland – and having the time of my life.” (I write that because I’ve ceased thinking “I’m in Poland” and begun realizing “I’m living in Poland.” It caused me a bit of stress initially, but for now I like the thought of it.)