LW Centrum Night
Month: September 2001
The Day
There are some days when I have to write. There are some days that are so significant that not to write would be almost a crime. And it is seldom that one has the horror to experience such a day.
“December 7, 1941 — a day that will live in infamy.”
“September 11, 2001 — a day that will live in infamy.”
Today I experienced what might very well be my generation’s Pearl Harbor. The World Trade Center no longer exists. Or as a commentator on TV said, “Po prosto, nie istnaje.” Hundreds, possibly thousands of people died. For what? I really have no idea.
I can’t explain what just happened. I was writing this, listening to Górecki’s Third Symphony and I just started sobbing. My whole body was shaking, and as I was crying I was thinking, “Am I crying or am I laughing hysterically?” I didn’t know if I was crying because of the tragic pain, or laughing because of the indescribable absurdity of the situation. I got up to close the door, and I just collapsed. I balled up in a fetal position at the door and I just wept. I really have not felt such pain or such confusion in my entire life. And I didn’t even know a single person affected by this. I don’t know anyone who died, nor do I know anyone who lost someone in this stupid day. But I just sat there, curled up, weeping, and I think I must have said ten times, “I don’t understand. I don’t get it, at all.”
I feel so heavy. I feel like every part of my body is made out of lead. I feel like someone knocked me down, and then just kept kicking me. I feel like there’s no fucking reason to live. I keep thinking, “Who wants to live in a world as ugly as this? Who wants to have anything to do with this disgusting, foul world? And what kind of a god could look down on this world and not do something — at the very least destroy it and put us all out of our misery.”
I cannot but conclude that the bulk of your natives to be the most pernicious race of little odious vermin that nature ever suffered to crawl upon the surface of the earth.
Jonathan Swift, Gulliver’s Travels
What kind of god would ever look at the shit we dole out to each other and let it all go unchecked?
Mamo, nie płacz, nie.
How can I not cry? How can we all not cry? How can those fucking Palestinians dance and laugh in the street? I swear, I saw them on the television and I really would have felt no regret (at that moment, anyway) to see someone walk out of some building with a gun and just cut them all down. Line them up and put a bullet in each of their heads, one by one. And make the parents watch as you do it to the children.
And so I am no better than those who planned and executed today’s attack.
I’ve never been so ashamed of being a human in my whole life. I’ve never been so ashamed. I’ve never felt so petty and insignificant.
And who knows if it’s over? Maybe in a few months or weeks, or even days, there’ll be some other attack.
We live on the edge, each and every one of us. We live not knowing what the very next second will bring. We live in such a fucking false sense of security. “Oh, it won’t happen to me,” said every single person in the World Trade Center just before the planes hit and destroyed their lives. We walk on a great frozen lake, and with each step we’ve no fucking clue whether or not we’ll splash through to our deaths or not. Not only that, but most of us don’t even think about it. It’s as likely to happen as an extra terrestrial walking up to us and introducing itself.
We live with blinders on. We live looking only at the single, short, insignificant, almost nonexistent moment in which we exist. Maybe Leibniz was dead on with his theory of monads. We all live in our own little universe, and we generally don’t feel anything except that which affects us personally.
Enough. I have to go to bed. I’m exhausted.
The Night Before
Lipnica Church
First Week Back in LW
I’ve now been in Lipnica for a week, and I’m surprised at the difference between this week and the week I spent here in May 2000. There was such a hectic feel to it because there was so much I wanted to do, so many people I wanted to see, so much food I wanted to eat. And so that meant very little sleep — at no point did I ever do what I’m doing now, and that’s simply to take it easy, to think, “I could go to Quattro and see a few people, or I could just rest this evening.” At this point, seemingly all the time in the world stretches before me. I know that suddenly it will be Christmas, then suddenly time for the matura, and by then, I’ll know what I’m doing: it’ll either be time to leave for good, or be time to go back to the States for a few weeks.
This evening I read some old journal entries — from June, July, and August 1999 (i.e., my departure from Lipnica) and May 2000 (i.e., my return). It makes me feel really good to think that I did something about all that. I wanted to come back, and I did just that. I have this ever-so-small fear lurking, though, that I’m just putting off the inevitable, that eventually I’ll have to face again the same thing I did in 1999. But for now, that’s so far from my mind, so far from my reality, that it feels like I’m just writing those words because I feel like I should.
One thing I forgot to write about: Tuesday I played volleyball with the teachers and had quite a good time. I played fairly well, and it was an overall rewarding experience. Hopefully, it will be a weekly deal like it was when I was here last. Strangely, though, I played as good or better than I ever had here, and that after two volleyball-less years.
Today I had a fairly good lesson with 4A — no, a great lesson with them. It was fairly boring, I thought: just a bunch of information on the blackboard that I explained and they wrote in their notes. Yet everyone was totally quiet through most of lesson, and they were even attentive. It was such a change from 4C. I’d love to hug them all and say, “Thank you! You make my decision to come back here worth everything I gave up to do so.”
New School Year
I didn’t get a chance yesterday to write in here because I spent the only free time I had here in the house watching the Tour de Pologne, specifically the leg from Kołobrzeg to Szczecin. I thought it would be good for my Polish, but instead it was a bit of a waste of time because I fell asleep. Such is life.
Yesterday’s lessons were okay, except for the lesson with 4C. I wanted to kill them. Honestly, I remembered how they were my last year here and I thought they would probably be the same. I shouldn’t be so general like this — it’s not everyone, just the boys. The girls have their problems too: mainly, they won’t attempt much of anything (though I was impressed with blond Agnieszka yesterday who did utter a few sentences, and I’m not being sarcastic here). Still, I didn’t let it get me down too much. I finished the lesson quickly, then told them that the first thing we were going to do next lesson was assign some seating. The boys will certainly not be sitting anywhere near each other if I can at all help it.
I had the second half of 3B yesterday as well, and they were quite a joy. Of course I had them in a small group, and that’s always helpful. I wish they could all be small groups, but at the same time, that would triple my teaching load, and I’d have to teach the same damn lesson so many times that I’d be so sick of it.
Last night I cooked dinner for today: chicken cacciatore. I didn’t have any zucchini, but such is life. It still looks and tastes good. As I was cooking, I was thinking about all the different things I could cook while I’m here, and I came to the unfortunate realization that I should have brought a lot of spices with me, such as cumin (real cumin, not the nonsense they sell here under the name kminek), coriander, and such. But especially cumin. I’d love to be able to make piccadillo here, but I wouldn’t even consider it without cumin. I’m sure you can get it somewhere, though. Maybe even in Nowy Targ. It would also be helpful in making salsa and Indian food. If I can’t find it here, maybe I can request that as a care package. Anyway, I was thinking a big hit would be that rolled flank steak I used to fix, but I don’t know where I could get flank steak.
As I was walking to make the phone calls, I encountered Tadek as he was walking the other way. We shook hands, and he asked me if I’d been to Quattro. I said no, but that I might go after I make some phone calls. I was honestly thinking that I’d only be going if Edyta agreed to meet me there, but as I walked back toward the Mastelas’, I thought, “What harm could it do for me to drop in? If I know no one, I can sit and talk to the bartender.” I walked in and the first people I saw were Wiola (from class 4A) and Adela. I talked to Adela for about a minute, but I felt quite uncomfortable doing so. I thought for a moment that I’d made a mistake. I saw, though, that there was smoke coming from the booth around the corner, where I’d sat with Monika and Anita Saturday night, and I walked over to investigate. And there sat Beata P. I waved at her, then walked around to see whom she was sitting with. And there sat Teresa W. Beata almost immediately invited me to sit down with them, so I said, “Let me get a beer,” and thus began a very nice evening.
We talked about a lot of things, including why they were there. Beata failed a test today because she couldn’t get her computer to work. She explained it to the professor, and his response was typically Polish: “Trudno.” As was his suggestion as to how she could make it up. If she were to bring a certain amount of vodka and other spirits, as well as a little cash, she could pass. Typical.
Settling
Today I went to Nowy Targ and bought two bottles of contact lens solution (for just under 100 złoty) and a new pair of shoes. I went in a couple of stores, but I ended up just buying a pair from Michał M.
I also stopped by the camera shop where I did my developing. I don’t remember the name of the bloke who works there, but the same guy was there. We chatted for a little, and I asked him about buying a tripod. Big mistake — he recommended me buying something like a Silk tripod, which costs almost 500 złoty. A little too much for a tripod I’ll probably use only a few times here. We’ll see, though.
The really big news, of course, is that today was the first day of school. I can’t say I got the warmest reception from some of the teachers.
The students’ reception more than made up for the teachers. Of course I was expecting the teachers’ apathy, but I was merely hoping for the students’ reaction. After a few words of introduction, Sojka pointed to the teachers and said, basically, “The teachers are the same as last year, with one change. Gary Scott has returned to teach here after two years in Boston,” (though he said a little more than that — I can’t remember exactly) and the whole fourth class just erupted. Cheers, whistling, and smiles. I felt good. No, I felt great.
Lipnica Arrival, Take 2
I was going to write these simple questions in the journal that Marlon and Leesha gave me, but my pen is not working. So I’ll write it in here, and perhaps later ink it in that journal. So here’s my lesson for today:
Will I ever learn to be happy with my life as it is at that very moment? Will I ever stop grasping desperately for the past? Will I ever learn that what’s done is done, what’s gone is gone, and happiness can only be achieved if you take what you have right now and make the absolute most of it?
Coming here, I think, was undoubtedly a mistake. I’m grasping for something that is long gone. Last night, in Quattro, I felt like a ghost. I felt like a spirit come back to his old house, only he’s forgotten that no one who was there when he was there will be there. He’s forgotten that life has moved on in this place and he’s looking for something that ceased to exist years ago.
And so it is with me. I was in Quattro last night and I recognized almost no one. I had such high expectations of last night. When Janusz told me that Benia was so happy to hear I was coming back, I was sure she would be there, along with Mary and even Żaneta. I thought — stupid naïve me — that everyone who saw me who knew me would be surprised and happy, and might even want to talk to me. The reality of last night, though, was much different. I talked to a few people (Marcin J., Anita T., and Monika K.) for quite a while. In fact, I sat with Monika and Anita for probably half an hour or more. But others, whom I thought might be more interested in me (Yes, yes — I’m taking this personally. I’m taking it as if I’m being rejected, when of course that’s not the case.) were rather blasé about it.
Krystyna J. (whom I guess will be in class IVa) talked to me about twenty seconds. She asked me if I was going to be their teacher again; I reluctantly admitted it; she said, “To dobrze,” and that was that.
Kasia K. (from IVb) was there, but she only said, “Hi.” I remember last time I was here, we sat and talked (po polsku) for about half an hour. It was really quite a pleasant chat. I don’t suppose I was expecting the same thing this time, but I was hoping for a little more than a casual “Hello.”
This morning/afternoon thus far has been rough. I’m alone. Mamo is not here; Karol drove off somewhere around noon; Robert, Kamil & co.’s cousin, is somewhere, but I’m not quite sure where. I’ve basically been left to fend for myself and that wouldn’t be a problem except for the fact that I don’t feel entirely comfortable snooping around here.
The biggest problem is food. My lunch and breakfast seems to be a bit of chocolate from the Zürich-Warszawa flight and a cup of coffee (black, with the sludge of grounds in the bottom — welcome back to Poland). Nourishing. If there were a shop open, and I felt I could bring myself to go outside (and of course, if it weren’t raining), I might go get something for myself. As it stands now, I sit here, feeling sorry for myself and quite hungry. Yesterday I had a bowl of cabbage soup and some bread at Janusz’s house, and then a couple of butter-slathered, open-faced ham sandwiches just before we left to catch the bus, followed by a crappy hot-dog around two in the morning, just before I left. It looks like yesterday was a feast in comparison.
LW Return
I’ve spent the whole day in Kamil’s old room. But there’s more. Before it sounds too ridiculously reclusive, I should also point out that I’ve spent the whole day in bed. I can’t understand why, and in some ways I can’t believe I actually did, but such is the case. I woke up around five this morning; finally, unable to sleep, I got out of bed at six, read old journal entries for a hour, then went back to bed. At some point, Karol woke me up to give me the key to the house, but I just fell right back asleep. When I finally woke up again and checked my watch, it was one in the afternoon. I felt a little stupid for having slept that long, and for a moment, I still considered trying to go to Nowy Targ this afternoon, but I realized that it just wasn’t going to happen. I got up and read for a little while (Gulliver’s Travels, which I bought in Warszawa yesterday just before I left), then, feeling cold, went back to bed. I finally dragged my ass out of bed sometime around four twenty. Insane. I’m not sure why I wasn’t able to get out of bed. I was just so freaking exhausted; the thought of stirring at all made me just want to curl up into a tighter ball and go back to sleep.
So, for my arrival: I thought I’d never make it from the train to the van with all my shit. It was so heavy, especially that stupid duffle bag. Still, I made it, only to find that Janusz had come with Bronek (from the gmina) and was in fact looking for me. So I struggled for nothing — I could have easily had a bit of help.
The trip back was uneventful, and a little strange. I felt like I’d never left as soon as we were driving along. Janusz and I chatted a little, but not much. It was a little difficult because I was sitting in the front and he was sitting in the back. I knew that once we got to Quattro that we’d chat up a storm, so I didn’t worry about it, though I did feel a little stupid: he came all that way and I really didn’t talk that much. I just wanted to absorb it all, I guess.