Results For "Month: June 1996"

There’s something interesting about many of the English-speaking nationals (HCNs!) – quite a few of them were taught English by British native speakers. The resulting accent is very charming and has a pleasant bounce to it.

I finally tried my power converters with my CD player – it’s a good thing I bought my own because the one Mark gave me doesn’t cut the voltage down enough. I’ll be able to use it with my computer, though – at least in theory. For a while, it didn’t look as if either of them was going to work and it left me with quite a helpless feeling. I guess I might be able to get one in Warsaw, maybe. At any rate, the problem is solved for the moment.

I guess I need to do some studying now. I might get Piotr and/or his mother to help me out. I think soon, as I learn more Polish I will get Piotr to stop talking to me in English primarily. Otherwise, I’ll never learn Polish.

Today we had our first day of training – it was interesting: very little instruction until the end. Tomorrow I’ll have an extra hour or so – I’ll probably write more then.

Writing by hand takes so very long. I long for my computer, at least for my journal. I know I’d write so much more.

I am surprised that I’m not at all homesick. I would imagine that I”ll get that way in the future – once the newness wears off. Yet with the linguistic challenge always grudgingly offering its rewards, I don’t know that the newness will dissipate. I am very comfortable here. I know few phrases; I would become easily lost; I understand little of the culture – yet I’m comfortable. I even call this house “home.”

I am in Poland – occasionally it really hits me and I am shocked. I stand with other PCVs at the post office and I realize as I speak that I am the exotic one for a change. A little boy stood staring at us as we spoke – it felt good in a strange way.

I’m going to bed now. I am still so tired from the flight and I’m sure the stress, though not obvious, is taking its toll.

The sun comes up here amazingly early. I [have] been up for almost an hour now – I decided to put down some thoughts rather than lie in bed.

My host family is polite and friendly, though I haven’t seen my host father since he dropped me off yesterday. [Piotr], my host brother, speaks English quite well, and for that I am thankful. Despite their incredible kindness, I feel a little out of place. It’s only natural – I still am a bit surprised when I remind myself that I am in Poland.

There is so much to write about – I long to have my computer. Soon enough, I suppose.

Though the sun is up, it’s not very bright at all. I am wondering whether it is the pollution I’ve heard so much about, or merely a cloudy day. I’ve so many questions like that. I will find answers to many of them, I suppose.

I spent a bit of time last evening talking to Peter and his mother. I showed them pictures of Bristol and my family. For some reason, I was hesitant to show them all, and I held back a few of Puck and Lily. It was strange because the ones I gave them were simply whisked through while pictures of the house and my family were studied.

Peter was enthralled with the idea of State Street when I explained it to him. He asked what happened if a Tennessee officer saw someone across the street stealing something. I didn’t know quite how to answer that one.

There are many dogs barking outside. Most seem off in the distance yet last night it was as if the house was completely surrounded.

Speaking of the house, I suppose I should try to describe it. On the outside it looks very much like one of the townhouses of D.C., though only in groups of two or three, not whole rows. We entered through what I thought was the back door, but had the feeling of a front door: entry [area] with a place for coats and such. The floors are all hardwood and much of the wall space is covered with wood. I feel at times as if I’m in a spa!

My room is spacious with a large wardrobe from my clothes and a large (but low – about one and a half feet off the ground) bed. The bedroom suit is new – makes me wonder if my arrival had anything to do with it. Perhaps they were considering new furniture and this served as an excuse or prod of sorts. It’s almost something I can imagine my Dad doing. Of course, this is just speculation.

One thing which surprised me was the number of children on rollerblades. They were everywhere at the training center and on our street there were quite a few as well. It’s so strange to hear children laughing and playing, then scream and yell in another language.

I cannot believe how flat everything is around here. I’ve yet to see a single hill, or even the slightest rise in elevation. While I might not be “in Kansas anymore,” it’s certainly flat enough to be Kansas.

The adventure continues – some hydraulic part broke and we waited around four hours for it to be fixed. It brought to mind the trip to the UK but then we were at least in the terminal, not on the plane. When it’s all said and done we’ll end up on this plane (plain?) around twelve hours

6:15 a.m. EDT

After a little breakfast I feel much better. I know I’m still exhausted but for now it’s retreated a bit and I’m able finally to write a little.

I’m meeting great people and things are finally settling down. I know I’m going to look back at this time as the greatest of my life. I finally have once again a tremendously positive feeling about all of this. I don’t know how the homesickness will go, but things in general are steadily improving.

Within a few hours I’ll be meeting my host family for the first time, about which I am very excited. I shall be with them for three months – very significant folks at this point (and throughout this experience, I’m sure).

10:52 p.m.
Radom, Poland

Everything is different. I suppose this is culture shock, on a small scale at least.

From the air the first thing I noticed was the fields: long and narrow. From that point everything just became more and more different. (Horrible [construction]). The roads are terrible, the people are friendly, and nothing feels the same. Even the toilets and bed sheets are different.

I would love to write more, but I am simply too exhausted.

From Washington National to this chair in the hotel room has been quite a trip. My bag (suitcase) was ripped on the flight over and the replacement is large enough to accommodate a small townhouse. Everything shifted immediately to the bottom and its bulkiness makes it difficult to carry. The Metro trip to the hotel was truly a nightmare. The whole experience was horrific.

I find that I’m doing better with each passing moment. I am still spending a lot of time alone, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing – I am finally getting to write in here. When I first got into the hotel room I felt like crap. I called my folks in tears simply because I was so overwhelmed. A hug would have been nice.

I don’t know what to write – I don’t know what to feel. I’ve been shoved to this moment by a force more powerful than anything I’ve ever encountered. It seems time was jerked from me like a tablecloth yanked from a table. It’s been so sudden that I don’t believe I’ve even begun to deal with the emotions. What I’m about to do still feels as unreal to me as the landscape far beneath me.

Yet as I leave, as I finally get under way, a calm has settled in. The most difficult part is over. I cannot turn back now even if I wanted to. With that finality is an almost perverse security. Now that I can no longer cling, I no longer reach. Of course this is just the eye in the first of many emotional storms I’ll face. I suppose part of it is simply the beauty of flying – it’s difficult to be upset up here.