matching tracksuits

fun in threes, sometimes fours

Pros and Cons

Sunday 25 June 2000

I’m still thinking about going back to Lipnica. I can’t help it. Every day I think about it, and while it seems completely unrealistic in some ways, there are moments when I’m completely sure I’ll go back for at least class II’s final year (this year’s class II, which I guess is now class III).

C and I talked about my seeming depression the other evening. She said that I seem to have lost interest in almost everything. I never read, so I never have anything to talk about; I don’t write, so my thoughts don’t get developed as they used to be. That’s only a partial explanation, though. I didn’t tell her all the things that I keep thinking about. I didn’t tell her, “I’m thinking about going back to LW for one more year,” and that’s the simplest answer to the question of, “What’s wrong?”

The long answer to that question is much more convoluted. I’m depressed because on the one hand, I can only think of Lipnica and how much I want to go back, and on the other, I realize that I never will. I’m fighting that “never will” notion every day because I don’t want to resign myself to something I know I truly want, even if it’s only a portion of me that really wants this. The other layer to this is that I know I need to go out and do something to give myself some kind of fulfillment, but doing that, I’m afraid, will make me give up completely on the dream of going back to Lipnica. I want to give it up — I want to be content with where I am in my life now. But giving it up is the absolute last thing I want, at the same time.

I’m confusing two things: going back to Lipnica for a while, and going back to Lipnica for good. I seem to be equating the former with the latter, assuming that once I get back there, I won’t want to return, that I’ll want to stay there for good. But I don’t really know that. I might get there and realize that I really don’t belong there. I might get there and after a while absolutely hate it. But if I did that, at least I would come back here with that knowledge and I could remind myself every time I thought about Lipnica, “I did try to go back for a while and I didn’t like it.” I can imagine C responding to that by reminding me how much I hated it when I was there last time — at the end, from time to time, anyway. But that is completely different. I thought then that I wanted to come back to the States and get a doctorate in philosophy of religion. I’ve now dropped out of grad school, and I realize that what I want to do now — at this moment — is go back to Lipnica.

I guess I should talk to C about this. I don’t really know how to bring it up, though. “I’m thinking about living away from you for yet another year.” That’ll go over really well. And besides, to know really things would have to be somewhat flexible, I think. Coded talk for, “I’d want freedom to fuck around.” So how do I go about doing something like that? Bringing up such a topic? I’ve no idea.

  • I’ve got all these thoughts about what I’d do there, though:
  • riding my bike here and there (getting a road bike for really long Sunday rides);
  • cross-country skiing in the winter (learning how to first, of course);
  • visiting Charles (maybe riding my bike there) and helping him out in his garden/hard;
  • traveling around the country a bit;
  • Friday and Saturday nights with friends (though this would be somewhat limited, since almost no one would be living there).

In some ways, my reasons for going seem to be fewer than I might have expected. The other day (14 June) I made the following list while sitting at the Sullivan Square bus stop:

ForAgainst
Lack of ultimate job fulfillmentC
Not sure about whether I want to go to IndiaBullshit from other teachers
Desire for a family eventuallyCost
Really genuinely want toAdam
Best friends thereDanuta not there
Sense of continual adventureNot sure if my friends are staying

Always an outsider

Lack of ability to communicate

From that, it seems just about even. The “Really genuinely want to” entry is something of a cop-out, I guess. And at the same time, it’s the strongest reason why I should go, if I still feel this way. I wrote at the bottom of the entry, “I have to go back for a year. It’s the only way I can be sure.”

The real question — I just realized — is this: Is all this an effort to help myself decide whether I want to go back, or an attempt to justify what I’ve already decided to do? I don’t know.

I do know that I’ve been almost relieved sometimes when C and I are arguing because it seems to be “ammo.” I don’t know. I’m screwed.

Pride Parade

Sunday 11 June 2000

Lipnica Thoughts

Saturday 10 June 2000

I woke up thinking about — guess — Lipnica. More specifically — for a moment I was absolutely sure of one thing. “I must go back,” I thought. “The decision is made: I’ll go back for one year at least. I’ll go back, help Halina, Kasia, Krystyna, et. al. though their final year at the liceum. And if I like it, I’ll stay. Maybe sign a four or five year contract in exchange for paying off some portion of my student loan. Something like that.” I smacked the pillow beside me and said aloud, “I think the decision is made. I think I’ll go back.” And for a brief moment, it was as clear and simple as that.

I’m listening to The Ghost of Tom Joad and feeling something like the characters in those songs — someone who’s lost something. Someone adrift. “It’s just dry lightning. And you on my mind.” I don’t have a person on my mind — and that’s part of the problem — but instead I’ve got a place. No, that’s not right. I do have people on my mind. Students, friends — most of my friends, in fact.

After transcribing some of my “journal” from my LW trip into last month’s WP version, I’m now listening to Beethoven’s Pastorale Symphony — on of my favorites, of course. The problem is that even this brings comparison of life in LW to life here. This incredible symphony is accompanied by the sound of passing cars, trucks, and busses. Not exactly conducive to fully enjoying it. In LW the only interruptions I might have would come from someone upstairs — and even that wasn’t constant. The damn cars going by our apartment — and, living on the front side, there’s no place in the apartment to escape it — is a constant annoyance.

I remember sitting on the bed in LW just before going to sleep, and realizing that as I sat there I didn’t hear a single sound. Nothing.

I still hate it here. I still want to go back. And I think I will for the rest of my life.

Thoughts Back at Home

Sunday 04 June 2000

I’m back in America. I have been for almost a week now. And I feel awful. Just as I suspected/expected I would. Even “just as I feared I would.” “Tell me that it’s nobody’s fault, nobody’s fault but my own,” sings Beck now, and I guess that’s somewhat appropriate. I don’t know if “fault” is the best word choice, but all the same . . .

I feel like I have a huge choice to make in about six months or so: stay or go. The implications are huge. I want to go back to Lipnica so badly it’s killing me — paralyzing me with depression sometimes. Yesterday I just lay on the couch, thinking, “I have to go back, and yet I can’t go back.”

Let’s way the pros and cons again, beginning with what I wrote some days ago — about a week ago, flying home:

As I write all that stuff, I think, “Now, most of these things aren’t really problems if I’m honest.” There’s plenty of people I have there, and the fact that the disco is now at Quattro (which is primarily a bar) seems to show how silly my worries were. My life there would be just what I want it to be. It’s simple: I work my ass off and become as nearly fluent in Polish as I can possibly be (barring grammatical perfection, that is), and who’s to say what my limits are?

My life here could be just what I want it to be if I’m honest. I can make anything of my life I want to here in Boston. The thing is, I don’t really want to.

So what are my options? One option seems most promising: go back for one year to see. I don’t know that I can ever stop thinking, “I might have made a terrible mistake in leaving,” unless I go back for a while and test the hypothesis. At any rate, that’s what I want to do. The implications of that are fairly substantial, though. I could say to Chhavi, “It’s just for a year — I just have to see for myself if I made a mistake,” but the obvious correlative of that is, “. . . and if I decide I did make a mistake, I’ll want to stay there.” When I left for Lipnica sometime next year, it would be worse than the first time I left (by then it will/would have been five years ago).

And here’s the shock: four years ago I’d just finished my first day of training in Radom. It’s around 4:30 in Poland now — I’d be just about to finish the first day. Four years ago. Four years. That’s 1,460 days ago. A long damn time. No, quite the opposite. Four years is almost nothing. Two years is nothing. I guess it’s true what they say about time going faster the older you get.

What I don’t want is to realize that I’ve been back from Poland for four years and think, “I’ve done nothing important with my life in that time.” I don’t want to think at the age of sixty, “I wasted my life, by and large.” And that’s exactly what I’m afraid will happen — unless I go back. I keep treating that as if it’s my only option, and it really isn’t. But it’s the only one I’m aware of; it’s the one I feel is sure to bring me happiness and fulfillment.

Two quotes — from the same song — seem particularly relevant now:

The nearer your destination,
the more you’re slip slidin’ away. . . .
A bad day’s when I lie in bed
and think of things that might have been.

What makes all this so difficult is that I could talk to someone in Lipnica about my dilemma — Teresa Wojciak, for example — and she would simply reply, “So come back.” How I wish it were that easy! I would have talked to Jasiu about coming back for this coming school year. Can you imagine the reaction of the students?!

Back to Boston

Monday 29 May 2000

12:40 p.m. Okęcie Airport

I feel almost as empty now as a year ago. The only difference is that I know what awaits me. Otherwise, it’s as if I’ve stepped into some kind of time machine: I’m traveling alone; my thoughts are filled with images and faces of Lipnica; I sit wondering whether I’m doing the right thing in leaving; and I feel generally shitty about what awaits me, as compared to what I’m leaving behind.

What I dread most is going into work tomorrow morning. For a week I’ve been having the same conversation: “I really would like to come back, in fact.” To which Mary, Anna P., Benia, Teresa, i.t.d. respond, “So, come back.” “It’s not so easy,” I say, and I wonder — maybe it is so easy — maybe it’s nearly impossible.

I just feel basically trapped.

On the plane now, wondering more intensely than ever, “Should I be here? Now?” And the opposing question: “What would I be accomplishing if I weren’t here?” Teaching some lesson, I guess. Feeling a little better than I am now.

Sunday —

  • Woke up at 9:30 after 6 hrs of sleep
  • Helped with lunch — barszcz z uszkami
  • Met with Edyta — 1 hour and said bye
  • Went to bistro for ice cream and last words to Agnieszka
  • Met with Danuta; no tears this time
  • Rode with Kinga (around 7:30) to Murowanice to see Mary; forgot about her oral FC
  • Rode on to the lake for a while
  • Visited Benia: “You have a guest” as I approached; short conversation, think her sister Kamila offered to stay in the room with us; Kinga came up, talked with Benia for a while, including, “I hate English”; “No good at foreign languages in general.”

Last night in Quattro

  • Short talk with Benia, Mary, and Teresa
  • Conversation with Janusz’s friend [Marion]: would like to speak English as well as you speak Polish
  • Conversation with Kinga — you think like a woman
  • Talk with Kinga about waking up in someone’s arms
  • One hour of sleep before I left

The farther I get from LW — both in distance and time — the less realistic my thoughts of returning. As much as I want it, it will never happen. Once again, the farther I get from LW, the less realistic it seems. I was there only a few hours ago, and it might as well have been years ago.

I have this unrealistic hope that I’ll be getting more letters from various folks: Anna P., Kasia M., Marcela J., Kasia (IIB), Agnieszka Kubacka. And while part of me is of course hopeful, I can’t help but think it’s the exact same hope that’s been making me sprint to the mailbox every day for the last year.

Why exactly is it unrealistic that I’ll ever go back for good? First — it’s a simple matter of one person — C. She has no intention of going back — no desire. And even if she were willing, I'm not sure it would be quite the same. What I’m thinking of is a total immersion in the culture, which, as things stand, is impossible for Chhavi. And that emersion in culture that I want is total. Being with Chhavi would create an us-them division that would be all but impossible to overcome.

Second, there’s the ever-nagging worry that the life I’m looking for has disappeared. Enough of all that.

Third, I owe $10,000 for my student loan. I could never pay that off making the little amount I would. This seems to be less of a problem if I could just work a bit extra and pay it off now while I still have such a good job.

Fourth: A. I refuse to deal with that dork. Of course, that too seems to be less of a problem. I could just tell Jasiu, “I won’t come back there if he’s teaching at the liceum.”

Fifth there seems to be some kind of barrier that I would never be able to cross. I would always be something of an outsider.

All in all, I think what I’d be looking for is some kind of idealized life there that is unattainable. This desire to return is based on an exceptional week which would be impossible to sustain for very long. The new-ness would wear off for all involved, I think. Everyone wants me to come back to teach because they have Bucky as a comparison. That won’t always be the case, obviously enough.

Another factor: I’m growing ever older. I couldn’t continue living the life I had. A few years at most. A 40-year-old hanging out at the disco seems a little stupid. If I’m honest, I also have to admit that a ot of my social fulfillment came from friendships with students. There were few “adults” I was really good friends with. (And yet I think, weren’t there enough? Ramzes, Agata, Kamil, Kinga, Piotrek, itd.)

It’s all just a silly dream.

More Reviews

Sunday 28 May 2000

Review

  • Friday night:
  • Mary and her “boy”
  • Talked to Iwona’s sister Agnieszka
  • Stupidity with Edyta — about Mary and so on
  • Camera worries
  • Danny’s adventures
  • Sprite and wódka
  • Benia
  • Not always happy
  • Boys to bed
  • Talking like old friends
  • “You can go — I want to talk to Gary, please leave.”
  • [Sat with Halina for a while, speaking Polish at her request]

Saturday

  • More stuff with Edyta
  • Watering flowers, chatting with Mamo
  • Meeting Monika Styla — works at the Haven
  • Talked a little to Agnieszka Kubacka
  • Żurek — “children”
  • Anna P.
  • Trouble with “boyfriend”
  • [Walked home
  • “You are a good friend”]
  • Visit with Ramzes, Agata, and Adam

“Plan maximum” — every moment of every day should be put to use. For a week now I’ve been trying to do that. I want to go visit someone (anyone — but some in particular) then go on to the next person, and the next, and so on. Of course they’re almost all girls, my students of old. Almost all of them I’ve already seen once or twice. I feel that all this week friendships have only begun showing their true potential and now I see how they can be, so I want to develop them. Beina, for example, could be a great friend, and it’s sad to realize that and then leave once again. Sad and a little stupid.

I really feel I almost belong here. Yet being here as a visitor and as an inhabitant — two different things.

Monday Morning
2:45 a.m.Lipnica Wielka

I will be leaving — again — in about an hour. I don’t want to sleep, though I should.

I’m so sad. I feel empty. I want a life I can never have. It exists now, but it will fade as the sun rises. I want never to leave, and I want never to return. I want a life filled with moments like my first meeting with Danuta, or teaching IIB, or walking with Benia, or chatting with Kamil on the balcony. “I try to tell myself to hold on to these moments while they last.” But the attempt to suck the marrow from life often turns into desparation. And that’s how I feel now. I’m grasping for a life that doesn’t exist. It existed for three years, was resurrected for a week, and will die again in about two hours.

I feel so empty. And homeless.

Review of Busy Week

Friday 26 May 2000

Lots of review

Wednesday:

  • Kinga and I walking; Marcela’s grave; the whole story as to what happened
  • Sunny day — didn’t want to leave
  • To Nowy Targ at 7:30; pool, hambuger, beer, cigars; return home for beer, chili, cribbage, and annoyed words from Malgorzata

Thursday

  • Left for Kraków after checking email and hot shower (no hot water at Mastelas’ in the morning); slept on bus
  • Met with Edtya — sat on rynek talking
  • Met with Kinga — went to Jewish quarter and Singer bar
  • Back to LW on 6:20 private bus — slept
  • Quattro last night — talked to Kinga about why she likes LW; why I want to return and why I can’t; same conversations 3 times
  • Talked to Teresa Wojciak at Quattro for a while; found out Mary got a 6 for English matura

More Bullets, More Conversations

Tuesday 23 May 2000

  • No class but spoke to IIC for a while; will teach tomorrow
  • Matura
  • Sylwu = 2; all but one wrong
  • Teresa W. = 6; told me many times in Quattro that she wanted a 6
  • Lidka = 5
  • Bogusia = 3
  • Marek = 3
  • Before matura talked to Lidka, Bogusia, and Marek about present perfect
  • At Bistro I talked with Maria Kuliga, Beata G., and some from IIA about life, Bucky (“He doesn’t explain anything,” they said) and whether I’m coming back to teach (“No!?) Czemu?”); they — Polish, I — English
  • Last night playing “soccer” in Quattro
  • Conversation with Kamil — told him about Beata and ties and “Keep people out”; wanting Iwona (“Why didn’t you make a move?”)
  • Conversation with Magda today
  • Visiting Greg “Fly”

These crazy thoughts — work for a while, then come back here for another long stay. What stupidity. And what makes me think it’s even vaguely possible? Yet it seems completely desirable and reasonable. I come back, begin visiting Mary a lot, then out of the blue, while we are on a walk somewhere . . .

Comparative/Superlative in Review

  • Names
  • Show and talk about ads — what are they trying to do?
  • Discect one ad together
  • Uses comparative and superalative; review
  • Long word
  • Short word
  • 2 syllables clever quiet narrow
    • ing (Boring) / — ed (more and why)
  • In groups of 3/4 brainstorm some adj and at least one new one; some on the board; quick drill
  • Hand out assignments for adds; five minutes @ end to share with others
  • Herbata Zielona Peach flavor in NT health shop
  • Meet with Halina
  • Give Alina a note for Lucyna
  • Get in touch with Beata P.
  • See about visitng Mary
  • Get letters from classes

Back to My Students

Monday 22 May 2000

  • Taught IIB/A — lots of smiles and laughter; Kaśka “super lesson”; couldn’t remember names “But I at least knew them . . .”; “I’m sorry you have such a bad English teacher”
  • Talked briefly to Halina — smiled the whole lesson
  • IIIA what you can do about the problem with Bucky
  • Józia — glad you’re finally happy; husband once jealous of me; son Kubu
  • Bus driver there
  • Last night at Quattro
  • Piotr and Roma — dziadek
  • Sylwia, Marta, and Robert
  • Cloves
  • “this is how my life could/should have been.”
  • Today at Agnieszka’s bistro; thought “Greatest thing = live my old life again for a few moments — accomplishing that2
  • Taught Kamil Macros and VBA
  • Franek: In Q? Pijemy!

Bullet Points about Return

Sunday 21 May 2000

Last night/yesterday

  • Adela’s face when she saw me
  • Mary’s reaction; our conversation about Polish guys; old fashioned
  • Conversation with Kasia (IIB): 3 things I tried to do with/show students.
  • Iwona S: “I came to see you.”
  • Tom Pn. and Monika
  • Jola’s daughter
  • Lucyna in police station in Jablonka
  • Meeting Adam; “Want to talk when we’re sober . . .”
  • Meeting with Kinga
  • Abdul: imperialist ass; conversation about being 25 and in university
  • Saw Halina, Monika Karlak, Teresa Bialon, and her friend Monika W.
  • Couldn’t sleep for thinking about conversations; crazy thoughts about returning and Mary

Today

  • Meeting with Danuta
  • What she’s doing
  • Postcards and current silence
  • Ania M., and Jadzia
  • Learned how to be non-Polish teacher from me
  • What Pawel M. said about my lessons vs. Bucky’s (Buckyego)
  • On the bus and see Marcel and Marysia; their shock; then Krysztyna and her tears
  • Visit to Dominika
  • Trip to Beata Plotek’s
  • Edyta’s phone call

I feel like I’m in heaven; everyone is so thrilled to see me. Mamo at ognisko — embarrassing but touching. I have never felt so wanted and loved as I have these past days. This week will prove to be, I think, the single greatest of my life. In some ways, better than my time here.

“Don’t think; feel it.”

List Journal

Saturday 20 May 2000

I’m here. So strange. Now begins my experiment in journaling: the list —

  • Time with Charles
  • “What’s new in LW?” “You’re about to see . . .”
  • Service station: what shit!
  • Conversation — Tomek’s confirmation and confession
  • Today — first to speak = Dominika’s mom; I felt very distracted
  • Andrzej (priest) — slams into reverse to talk to me
  • ____’s mother (the crying janitor) and a short conversation

First Day Back

Friday 19 May 2000

I’m finally here — and I feel like I never left. Except for a Marks and Spencer in front of the Pałac Kultura i Nauki, nothing much has changed. On, and the cheesy PKP picture gallery has been replaced by still other shops. Otherwise, it’s all the same.

I feel I’m back after only a small break at most. As I was walking along the peron, I had a memory of stepping off a train here, in sektor 1, where it’s not so open or spacious. I remember stepping off into that constant florescent dimness that is Warszawa Centralna at all hours of the day — early morning, though — I think it’s a memory of arriving on the all-nighter from NT to deal with all that visa nonsense.

It seems somehow different to be here as a visitor — a tourist, even — as opposed to being an inhabitant. A temporary inhabitant, but a resident all the same. Now I’m not struggling to keep my sanity in a long journey home; I have no home here . . . I’m a visitor. First time in Poland as such.

First Return

Thursday 18 May 2000

7:30 p.m. EDT JFK NYC

The first leg of my return to Poland was painless enough. In fact, I left Logan about an hour earlier than expected. But here we sit, aboard a LOT 767 waiting for “meterological conditions” to ease so we can leave. I hope it won’t be a repeat of my first trip to Poland — five hours on the tarmack at Dulles.

It’s the strangest thing to hear Polish all around me again. It takes only a moment for old habits to return: I’m able to sink into that strange linguistic isolation to which I’d become so accustomed in Poland. Yet beside me sits a very pleasant woman — probably in her 50’s or 60’s — and I’m trying (or have been, from time to time) to have something of a conversation with her. Still, it’ll be a long time before i’m vaguely comfortable speaking Polish — it probably won’t happen during this trip.

Of course it’s different to believe the day of my departure is here — the exact moment seems somewhat vague, but nonetheless, Thursday 18 May has arrived. And I sit, stranded in a storm, dreaming of a small village in Poland.

I’ve come to realize I have a few habits when it comes to international trips: I pack to the accompaniment of Taproot; I buy a new journal; I end up writing in it while stranded somewhere. And, when Poland is involved in anyway whatsoever, I always find myself in the company of a drunkard — or several.

There are other things connected to Poland as well. Always a bit of chaos; always some kind of delay.

And so I’ve slipped into yet another habit: criticizing Poland. I must not do that — I must “hold on to these moments as they pass.” Yet some moments are more conducive to holding on to than others — for example, waiting to leave, waiting to initiate the last major portion of a long-awaited return to Polska. And of course I brought nothing to read . . . even for Danuta. What a dork.

8:40 p.m. EDT

Still waiting. We might be lucky enough to take off three hours late. I wouldn’t count on it, though.

I received a letter from Kaśka (Ia, last year) in which she shared her opinion of Adam. He is so boring, she said, beginning each lesson the same way: “Please open your books to page . . .” “I hope Adam won’t learn (sic) us yest year,” she wrote — saying a lot about this loser — whom I will meet shortly. I really don’t know how I feel about this — meeting someone for whom I already have no respect whatsoever. I’ll really have to bite my tongue, I think. Maybe he won’t show his face too much.

I’m wondering if Iwona will be there. She might have moved back to LW for a while, though I really doubt it. I don’t think it would upset me too much if she weren’t there at all — we haven’t exactly kept in touch with each other. I think I’ve received three letters from her, maybe only two. I’ve certainly not written more than that — we’re even, I guess. But if she is there — will cliche sparks fly? I doubt it.

I seem to have this notion — unspoken and even unacknowledged — that nothing has really changed since I left almost a year ago. As soon as I arrive in centrum, though, I’ll see the stupidity of such thoughts: a new school, a new bar, maybe even something else new. People of course will have changed as much as — no, more than — the physical surroundings. I hope I’m not setting myself up for something that is no longer really there. I’m not even sure what I’m expecting, except a warm welcome. But whether it is legitimate to think of this as a sort of homecoming or not — that is another issue altogether.

I just had a chance for a Zywiec — yet I passed it up. I’m waiting to be in the company of friends.

If we ever depart, that is. We’re already two and a half hours behind schedule. I’ve no idea how this will affect my arrival time in NT or LW.

Almost Returning

Monday 15 May 2000

An awful start to a month that will turn out to be one of the most eventful of my life. Though I had no idea at the beginning of the month — or even the last journal entry — I’ll be leaving for Poland in three days! It’s difficult to believe, but I’m leaving for Poland this Thursday.

This evening I read some of my journal entries from my last days in Lipnica. There are so many people that I want to see, to talk to — will I be able is another story. At any rate, the thought of going back and being among some of the people who were so very important to me during the most formative period of my life — it’s difficult to describe how I feel about it, but I feel equally at peace and anxious about it, often experiencing both at the same moment.

Because of that, I won’t be writing much more than ten pages this month, if I’m lucky. I’m not planning on keeping much more than a rough outline of my days there. Every night (or morning) I hope to jot down a few lines about what happened since the last time I wrote something and then flesh it out when I get back. I’ve bought a new, small notebook for that purpose. Zobaczymy.

“I try to tell myself to hold to these moments as they pass.” Those words have haunted me since I’ve returned, and I’m determined that for the time I’m in Poland I will make the most of every single moment. I don’t know how much I’ll sleep — I”m hoping not much; I don’t know how much time I’ll spend sitting around doing nothing — I’m noping, not much. I want every moment to be something to cherish; and I want to be aggressive enough in initiating visits that that’s the case. I want to hunt down Józia and talk to her; I want to go see Anna P. if she’s not at the disco; I want to drop in on people without worries. I’m going to do it if I can. I’m going to walk across the street to Agnieszka Kubacka’s house and find out where she is and whether I can get a phone number to contact her, and the same for Maggy. I’m not going to have a single moment of regret while I’m there; no wasted time whatsoever. It’s completely unacceptable.

Excitement at Return

Sunday 07 May 2000

I can’t believe I’m writing this, but in two weeks I will be in Lipnica. Two weeks. I’ll actually be arriving in much less than two weeks. Still — last night I was thinking, “Two weeks and I’ll be back at Zurek.” A very comforting thought.

“I try to tell myself to hold on to these moments while they last.” As Adam says about chess, I’ve got to be “balls-to-the-wall” with this. I’ve got to be aggressive in seeing people — not wait for someone to invite me over for a visit, in other words. I’ve got to savor each and every moment — even the time taking the train from Warszawa to Kraków. In fact, I’m sort of looking forward to that more than anything else — my initial adjustment period, so to speak. Every time I’m on the orange line going to work, I look out and think, “This could just as easily be a train somewhere in Poland.” And I get a little tug of nostalgia. So now in the coming days I’ll get something similar, but a sort of nostalgia-in-advance.

I hope that my trip to Poland will help me adjust to being back in America. I don’t know if I’m being blindly, naively optimistic about this or not, but I really think that going back to Poland for just a little while will give me the necessary perspective to appreciate being back here. What I miss most about my life in Lipnica are the friendships. It’s not the apartment (though of course it would be nice to have such a place here); it’s not really the teaching (it’s more the interaction with students, not the act of teaching them when to use “a,” “an,” and “the”); it’s not the cold winters; it’s not even the thrill (which quickly wore away) of living in another country. It was the friendship — knowing that I had something to do on Saturday nights and, more importantly, someone to do it with; sitting at talking around an ognisko; smoking and drinking with Janusz while listening to our mutually small blues collection;' having an unplanned lunch with Mastelas on a Sunday afternoon.

So now I’m listening to Trzycie (sp?) Simfonia Góreckiego. It’s music that demands to be listened to — commands one’s attention — and it’s probably not the best music to be listening to while trying to type in my journal. Still, I’m in the mood to listening to something Polish, and this is the best I’ve got (without a doubt).

At some point I’ve got to start really planning what I want to do while I’m there. I don’t want to go and just let things happen. I’m afraid if I do that then I won’t get to do certain things I really want to do. Among them — a day in Kraków, perhaps with Kinga J. or Edyta; a day in Zakopane, definitely with Charles; a day of riding a bike around Lipnica, hopefully with Kinga M. when she gets back. I want to have some sort of idea of what my time there will be like.

Other than this exciting bit of news — and the accompanying news that I’m flying for less than $700, thanks to Michelle — nothing much has happened this week.

Oh, part of the motivation for going so soon: Kamil was drafted into the army! He leaves 4 July for a six-month stint. That means if I were to go for Charles’ wedding in September, I wouldn’t get to see Danuta or Kamil. I found out about this Monday, hence the suddenness of the trip.

I had to talk Kali into letting me get time off. At first she wasn’t keen on the idea, but I had a strong argument: we have two course developers starting — one tomorrow, one the next Monday. The first thing they’ll have t do is read all the chapters and start making some changes. I’ll have enough time for them to read the chapters and discuss them with me before I leave for about a week. During that week, hopefully, they’ll have time to make some changes, re-write stuff and so on, so that when I get back, there’ll be a pile of work for me to do — which certainly hasn’t been the case of late.

Another interesting development in the workplace: I had my evaluation this week and Kali feels I’m not making the most of my skills. What exactly did she mean? Well, she’d like to see me more involved in the tech side of things as something of a liason between the tech staff and the editors. An editor who knows a lot about the ins and outs of the software we’re using and things like that. She also wants me to design and implement some workshops for editors to help them make the most of Word. Several of them — including Kali — would like to learn how to make macros (as if it’s terribly difficult), and so I’ll be teaching again. And I won’t have to worry about not being prepared and such — I’ll be able to prepare this stuff while I’m at work. Part of my job will be to prepare for these workshops! What a novel concept!