Matching Tracksuits

Month: August 1996

First Bike, First Ride

Friday 30 August 1996

I was supposed to go to Mike’s in Jabłonka tonight – well, I told him I might. But I was simply too tired, for I rode my bike back from Nowy Targ today: a 40+ kilometer ride that I did in two hours, forty minutes. It was an utterly exhausting experience. Just after you get out of Nowy Targ there is a long stretch of road which is straight with slight hills, most of which are slight inclines than ever really present the welcome downhill slope I was seeking. I must say that I felt a little like Sysyphus, for each time I got to the top of one hill, another loomed in the distance.

I felt such astoundingly intense pain in my legs at some points. My thighs burned for the last hour and a half and my left knee began aching after a while. Yet I knew there was no way I could stop. What choice did I have? Yet the utter necessity of the journey did nothing for my legs.

Of course that was not enough pain for me – I went to Danuta’s about an hour after I got back home. I did not know that the whole six kilometers are a gradual slope . . . upwards. The pain in my legs returned and only intensified as I went along. The advantage is that the return trip was much faster and with a little less pain.

Consummer

Thursday 29 August 1996

Today has been quite a day for me. I bought a bike (even though I told my folks I would wait), bed clothes, and spices (including basil and soy sauce). And I finally got my bank account set up. I do think Danuta was getting tired of worrying with that whole mess. I am glad it’s over, too.

I had a brief talk with Roy this afternoon, rather evening. He told me my lighting problem will not get fixed until I become really upset about it. Such cynicism – it is quite, well, not depressing but a little disheartening. I don’t know what I would expect, but not that.

 

LW Background

Wednesday 28 August 1996

I’ve learned a little more about the village of Lipnica. Most of the people who live here work abroad (mainly Germany) and very few have remained who simply farm. “It’s the only way they can pay for these big houses,” laughed Danuta the other day. (And there are some huge homes here.) Still, as I walked home I saw few people farming. Near Danuta’s place I saw what appeared to be an entire family making hay. They stacked the hay into cone-like bundles that were capped with straw cones that looked roughly like thatched versions of the hats Vietnamese folks wear (as portrayed by Hollywood, at any rate). Another woman rolled by on a wobbly bike to a garden in the lush area beside the creek that provides the road with its course. (After all, bridges are expensive). I glanced inside the small temples (chapels, Danuta calls them) that are by the road: a few icons, lots of flowers – very plain. It was a much longer walk than I expected. I need a bike.

Realities

Tuesday 27 August 1996

We had a staff meeting today. Of course, I understood next to nothing that was said, but Danuta gave me the scoop after it was all said and done. Basically, nothing has changed. We might have a schedule by Thursday. This is all truly amazing. We still don’t know if the Ministry of Education will let the school add German to the curriculum! We have less than a week before school starts: Where are we going to get a German teacher on short notice? In addition, we still don’t know exactly how many English teachers we will have. I cannot believe how unorganized (rather, how unfinalized) everything is at this, the last moment! One of the classes hasn’t even been divided into language classes yet. Does anyone know what’s going on? It certainly doesn’t seem that way.

Now, on to the adventures in Polish banking. Danuta and I went to Jabłonka this afternoon after the conference only to learn that I don’t have the proper kind of documentation to get a savings account. When can I get that documentation? As soon as the Ministry of Education (and/or Labor) provides us with the proper work permit. And only they know (and I doubt they do) when that stuff will be ready.

I am beginning to become frustrated with the ways of this country. The bank problems, the scheduling problems, and the fact that several stores close at three in the afternoon combine to make me just a little annoyed. I am at my site and still, I know nothing! How is this possible?

Additionally, I am scheming about how I can get a bike, for this place is too long to walk it and the buses are much too infrequent. I’ve two methods in mind but I don’t know which would be best. Also, I don’t know what (if any) PC channels I would have to go through. Whom would I have to inform, if anyone? “Local solutions to local problems,” said E. Timothy Carroll – I shall take that to heart. Of course, one small problem at this point is how to get the money I will need for this small “project.”

One last thing: I accidentally bought an enormous block of cheese today. I could only imagine what the poor clerk thought. And then there’s the whole old/new złoty issue . . .

First View of Lipnica

Saturday 24 August 1996

My first full day in Lipnica. It was a great way to begin my PC experience. Danuta and I spent the whole day together, talking and obviously becoming more comfortable with each other. We shall have a very good professional and personal relationship, I believe. I am fortunate that I have a counterpart who isn’t married (and therefore isn’t splitting time) and is the same age (roughly) as I am.

Danuta got here around 9:30 this morning and we spent a little time exploring my end of town and doing a little shopping. Afterwards we went to her place for lunch. We walked up a small hill and sat in the shade talking about so many things, but mainly teaching and language. After that we returned to my place for dinner and a bit of conversation.

Lipnica is so much smaller than I was expecting. There are three shops up the street from me, a bar, and a church. Other than that, there was little of any interest. It (the town) consists primarily of houses, which deserve some words: They are usually two or three stories with very steep roofs. They are often little more than large boxes made of blocks, but through some mysterious Polish magic they end up looking quite nice, in fact.

My apartment is beginning to feel just a little lived in. I would like to get some plants but I am afraid I would forget about them and let them die. Posters and pictures might help, too. In my bedroom there is a terrible echo; it’s almost empty. Time will bring with it “stuff” which will make this place seem more like a home.

This area is so much like home. In the distance there are mountains and the terrain itself is slightly hilly. It is so very lovely. It’s a great place to call home. There is clean air here, beautiful scenery, and total darkness at night. I have never been in an place that didn’t have any street lights.

Lipnica Arrival

Friday 23 August 1996

It has taken so much time to reach this point. I am a Peace Corps Volunteer, sitting in my apartment at my site, Lipnica Wielka. In a way I want to cry – not from happiness or sadness. It’s just from relief. I finally made it.

So now I must write about the past two days: Yesterday had an interesting start. Nick, Ingrid, and I were taking [bus] 15 to the school and they told me that if we took it to the end of the line that we would be right behind the school – no need to transfer to seven. So we got off at the end of the line and began the hunt. I knew we were in trouble when Nick, who was our bold leader, cried out from the front, “Hey, there’s a stream here!” An old man working in his garden gave us directions as we stood pondering our situation. He didn’t know where we were going; we did not tell him [anything] – he gave us directions . . . and we followed them. It all worked out somehow, for we were only lost for another forty-five minutes! We all thought it was somewhat amusing.

I skipped most of the sessions that morning because my counterpart wasn’t there. I wasn’t keen on being bored silly. After lunch Kristine and I went downtown for a little bit, and then I headed home to pack, eat a little bigos, and get ready for the swearing in ceremony.

The event itself was honestly just a bit boring. Still, we sat through it and did the oath thing – it was full of pomp and a bit of hot hair. Afterward there was a huge buffet – everyone stuffed themselves.

Lipnica Wielka

Monday 19 August 1996

Lipnica Wielka. It is a small town on the Slovakian border, in the mountains of Poland. It has a population of approximately 3,000 spread along a single road (some 18 km long, I hear). On the map it shows (bad construction) only one road into the whole village. What do they do there? I can only imagine. I will soon know.

So I will soon be in my home. There is already an environmental volunteer there – he will be done in March. It will be nice to have someone to show me around.

When I think of Lipnica Wielka, it feels just like all the times I tried to imagine what Poland itself would be like. This time I have something to base it on, but it is still a big mystery. I’ve been told my apartment is really nice – a good thing. Still I’ve no idea what is in store for me. It sounds just great. A small, remote town – isolation. It will be a great opportunity to get to know myself more.

So now the mystery is over – Lipnica Wielka. I know where I am going. My new address is simply: Liceum Techniczne, 34-483 Lipnica Wielka. One street in the whole town! I can remember thinking about what PC would be like in Africa – isolation and such. It seems that I will be getting more of that than I initially thought when I arrived in Poland. One winter evening I might actually be writing by candlelight. A dark evening with a pipeful could be nice . . .

This is soon to become a very intense experience. I am going to be a full-fledged PCV. Bizarre. It has taken a long time. It will feel like it took me longer to get into PC than to complete my service. It is difficult to believe I have been in Poland already for eleven weeks.

I am fairly close to some other PCV XII’s. Kevin and Niki are in Kraków; Melissa and Chad seem very close; a couple of others are nearby, I think. I’m glad I’ll be near people I like. The worst news is that Kerry is as far north as I am south. That’s not good. We’ve become fairly close friends. Poland suddenly seems so much bigger.

It is so very difficult to describe how I feel now. I am so excited, so frightened, so . . . well, so everything. I cannot believe what I’m about to do. It’s the only thing I can imagine doing now. The future is in another haze; I am once again imagining the letters I will write; I am imagining people visiting. Another new start.

My host mother told me that small-town kids are more eager to learn. I do hope that is true. Still, even if the kids are stubborn and belligerent about learning it will not phase. I hope. Yet it would be great to teach a group of kids who really want to learn.

Polish Pride

Thursday 15 August 1996

Today is a huge holiday in Poland. In 1920 Polish forces turned back a larger Russian army, thus saving Europe from the Bolshiviks. Obviously this is a matter of great national pride. In addition to the national secular importance of the day it’s also the day of assumption.

In Warszawa at the arched memorial with the eternal flame in front of the fountain (Kristine and I visited this place. In front of it is a great square.), there is a great military ceremony. Representatives of all armed forces are there as well as high ranking statesmen including President KwaÅ›nieski. It is a moving sight – much national pride. I hope I can be in Warszawa this time next year so I can see it for myself.

Wraclaw

Sunday 11 August 1996

This morning I went for a quick walk before we left and I went into a couple of churches. One was an enormously tall and thin building that was blackened with age on the outside and completely white on the inside. As I entered I noticed a small elderly woman muttering a prayer, rosary in hand, back hunched over as she knelt. She looked at me and yet continued to mumble her prayer. As I left a few minutes later she was still there. She took a moment to look at her watch but never stopped praying. I wonder how much of her motivation came simply from a sense of duty, how much of it came from sheer habit.

At another church a woman sat in rags with a small child in her arms and another in ragged, filthy clothes nearby. I gave her a zloty and some change. I really didn’t care whether it was a scam (as so many people think of such situations) – I doubt it. And it made me wonder what forces led her to that destitution. Where is she now? Where will she stay tonight? I wanted to take her picture, but I felt it would be inappropriate. She wasn’t a tourist attraction. Yet I wanted to remember her face.

I bought an antique postcard from 1911. There is a note on the back in meticulous Polish handwriting – something about a sick grandmother, Magda told me. It is so strange to hold something so personal. That person obviously never intended someone to be reading it eighty-five years later. Part of me wants to track the person down, find out all I can about this individual. it’s virtually impossible – and only a mild passing fancy. It’s a bizarre link to the past which is at best minimal. I don’t even know the individual’s name . . .

In two weeks I will be at my site. As I looked out the windows of the bus I found myself imagining that each small town was my site. It’s as unreal to me now as Poland was to me twelve weeks ago . . .

Practicum

Monday 5 August 1996

This is the last week of practicum – I am in a way glad. It’s so difficult, especially with all this class splitting and teaching of other classes. Just when we got used to our own classes we were teaching them half as often. It worries me though: I’ll be teaching more each week (eighteen hours versus six). Yet I will not have tech and language sessions every day. I’ll have more domestic work to do, as well. I know I’ll survive – somehow. I’m just a little worried about coming up with lessons every day. I have such a hard time with that for some reason.