matching tracksuits

fun in threes, sometimes fours

Host Family

Thursday 13 June 1996

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.)

Spit

Monday 10 June 1996

I’ve been working with my host mother on the basic Polish sounds and I have hit a real break through in [the] pronunciation of sz and rz. It’s great! Earlier in the evening I was trying to pronounce one of the many “sh” sounds and after several failures I finally threw out a last attempt accompanied by a significant amount of spittle, and she cried “Tak!” with great delight.

I am really finding my place in my host family and I feel quite comfortable here. We joke with one another and seem to enjoy each other’s company.

Parties and Neighbors

Sunday 09 June 1996

I’ve spent a good bit of the day watching Polish television – it’s interesting, to say the least. They have a version of Jeopardy called VaBanque or something like that. I watched “Beverly Hills 90120” with Polish dubbing. But the most entertaining was the Polish Donald Duck and Chip and Dale. It was interesting, to say the least – again. (Why the repetition?)

Yesterday several of us went to a chamber concert (string quartet) which was wonderful, though the building was a little too warm. They warmth mixed most effectively with the relaxing quality of the music and that made it very difficult to stay awake.

I’m not sure what it is, but lately it has been difficult to stay awake. No matter how much sleep I get, I am still always right at the point of falling asleep. I thought it was the decongestant, but it must be something more because I’m tired even when I haven’t taken any medicine.

A few words about Poles and their relationships with neighbors: They seem extraordinarily tolerant of each other. Last night there was an extremely loud party in the neighborhood. Music blared until seven this morning. When Piotr mentioned it this morning, he just laughed it off. “It was a wedding party,” he explained. On Friday night Justina said that the neighbors would not complain about the volume of the music because they would not want a feud.

Polish Reality

Saturday 08 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.

Unknown Corpus Christi

Friday 07 June 1996

I am waiting for the bus, sitting in front of a church. I went in for a moment, but decided I should probably leave — I didn’t cross myself with holy water (It appears to be stagnant water with a greasy film.) and I was getting a few looks (though there were several others who did not cross themselves either). Suddenly the bells began ringing and eventually I caught sight of a procession coming around from behind the church. Choir boys were dinging small bells and behind them was a procession of relics. A little behind that was the priest, walking under a canopy supported by six men, preceded by a young priest waving an incense burner. The head priest was holding a staff with a gold sun in front of his face — he was led by the arms, for he certainly couldn’t see where he was going. Behind the priest was a group of loosely organized lay-persons, singing a capella. The woman beside me knelt as the group went by. A strange thing, this Christianity.

Lost in Radom

Wednesday 05 June 1996

I got lost today for the first time! It took me two hours to get from downtown Radom to the house. I kept wandering around, looking for a 24 stop, but none was to be found. It was frustrating, to say the least. I finally asked two police officers – they were little or no help. I finally determined that the #15 could, in theory, take me back. The driver was a great help when I asked him for help.

When I finally got home I was very relieved but really wanted to talk to someone close to me. Then I was talking to Piotr about tomorrow and he told me that bus 24 will not be running (It’s Corpus Christi) and I thought, “Great – more adventures on the bus!”

Other than getting lost I had a great time this afternoon. Five of us spent the day exploring Radom. It was great fun, and I feel I am making great friends.

I’m feeling better and better about my Polish everyday as I learn a couple of things here and there (tu and tam).

We’ve only been here two whole days now and already it feels like a week. I guess it’s because we’re so busy and there’s so much to take in.

Today was a beautifully bright and sunny day – such a contrast with yesterday when it was cold and windy. I took my North Face shell just in case but didn’t need it at all, so I just lugged it all over the place. Of course it is so very heavy . . .

I stay so very tired – of course walking all over Radom today did wonders for my alertness. Still, without all that walking I am sure I would still be so very tired. I am wondering if it’s still just jet-lag. I should be sued to the time by now, but perhaps I’m not.

I am going to sleep now . . .

First Day

Tuesday 04 June 1996

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.

Radom

Tuesday 04 June 1996

Radom

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.

Over the Atlantic

Monday 03 June 1996

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.

Arrival in D.C.

Sunday 02 June 1996

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.

Departure

Saturday 01 June 1996

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.

Going Away Party

Saturday 25 May 1996

Work Woes

Wednesday 22 May 1996

I was going to write in here last night but the computer locked up twice, so I decided it really wasn’t worth loosing the sleep over, especially today. I have to work a double. But that’s not the bad thing: I have to stay through the afternoon and close tonight. Of course there’s a chance that I would get sent home early, except for the fact that I’m already scheduled to close. That is absolutely ridiculous. I’m not exactly sure what that wonderful Linda was thinking when she made the schedule (and apparently she’s doing all the schedules now), but it certainly didn’t include anyone’s convenience. I think I might have to work a double tomorrow as well. Kim has to close four of the five nights she works. That’s ridiculous!

I’m not sure what they’re going to do about servers. They lose them faster than they hire them. They hired a whole batch of people a couple of weeks ago and I don’t think a single person stayed. If it keeps happening I would think that management would take a look at its own tactics and see if it’s doing something to drive people away. They’ve certainly driven me away — if I wasn’t already leaving I would be out looking for a new job.

I haven’t written that much about the two corporate people who have come to help us “sort things out.” Linda is a stunningly beautiful woman who seems to have the warmth of a dead fish. John is an interesting character who smacks as he eats. I’m not too fond of either of them, but I don’t dislike them at all. I have fairly neutral feelings about them both. Both of them seem somewhat inflexible, but I suppose they realize the same thing a new teacher would does: It’s easier to start out tight and loosen up than to start out loose and tighten up.

I talked to the Central Europe desk about a packing list yesterday — they’re mailing out the Welcome to Poland packets this afternoon and I should have mine by Friday. It includes an introduction to Polish and some information about the country. With less than four weeks to go I am really starting to get excited. [...]

I am so dreading work today. I walk into that place and I’m struck with boredom, depression, and anger. It is so frequently completely dead that one has plenty of time to mediate on all the time he’s spending there. In the next thirty-six hours I’ll probably be there twenty of them. I certainly won’t have any time today to do anything except work that that hell-hole. I’m wondering if she’s scheduled Daniel and Pam to work over as well? If so, I’m going to get my little butt out of having to stay over and close. I get angry just thinking about what I have to do today. That is about the worst think I can imagine: spending a day at Uno’s. What fun!

I overheard an interesting exchange between two older men at the YMCA yesterday. One of them was saying something about Adam and Eve, and I think he was trying to say that everything is created for the benefit of man. Whether that be the case, it prompted me to thinking. From the creation myth in Genesis it does seem that all things are created for the man, but on closer inspection, one could give an interesting feminist reading to the passage. God created all the universe out of nothing — ex nihilo…except man. He created Adam from the dust of the earth, something that had already created. Then he took a rib from Adam and created Eve. It’s interesting that Adam is made of and from dirt but Eve is made of flesh, though she will return to dirt because of the very nature of flesh. The point is simple: God made a man out of mud but made a woman out of something a little less primitive. Naturally, that is a twentieth-century reading, and when applied to such an ancient text it cannot yield any legitimate exegetical fruits (that sounds pompous). Still, it does make for an interesting observation.

Nearing Departure

Friday 10 May 1996

Things are set: On Saturday 1 June at 8:30 a.m. I’ll leave Tri-Cities for Charlotte where I’ll stay for about two hours before I leave for Washington, arriving in the capitol at 11:00 a.m. No one will be there to meet me at the airport, so I’ll have to get a taxi or something I guess. The registration begins at 2:00 and goes until around 3:30 — I believe we can register anytime in that hour and a half, so I might head out and explore for a while, though I’m not sure it would be the greatest idea. We have meetings until 6:30, at which time I suppose we’re free for the evening.

In three weeks I’m leaving. Am I the biggest fool on the face of the earth? What the hell am I doing? It’s going to be the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, and it will also be the most rewarding thing I’ve ever experienced. In the meantime I’ve got a lot of things to do: people to see, things to buy, issues to clear up. I’ll be busy, to say the least.

Also included in the packet was a guide to luggage restrictions. I might have to check in my pack instead of taking it as carry-on luggage. The carry-on baggage is very small in volume and it can only weight eleven pounds. That will restrict my packing ability a great deal. I’ll probably have to get my parents to send the guitar at a later date.

I’m feeling quite dead. I have nothing to say. I’ve dried up, as if I think nothing whatsoever. I can’t stand this. I have had so much to write about in the past, and now I am empty. Is it because of the Peace Corps? Am I simply so overwhelmed that I can’t find the words to express the feelings? The problem is that I don’t feel anything. I’m just biding my time, waiting for the tremendous reality of what I’m about to do to come thundering down around me. It’s overwhelming, to say the least, and yet I don’t feel overwhelmed that often. It’s a strange experience, a strange emotion (or lack thereof).

Doubts

Thursday 09 May 1996

In The Search for Significance by Robert McGee, I read the following passage: “We can do nothing to contribute to Christ’s free gift of salvation . . . We are the sinners, the depraved, the wretched, and the helpless.” Does that sound like a healthy attitude? That type of thinking about oneself is at the very core of codependency. Fighting codependency with Christianity is like throwing grease on a fire. McGee goes on to write, “So then, our worth lies in the fact that Christ’s blood has paid for our sins; therefore, we are reconciled to God. We are accepted on that basis alone” (77). This means that God does not accept humanity for its own sake, but rather accepts humans through Christ. In other words, God wants nothing to do with us unless it’s through Christ. I’m worth a little more than that, though.

I keep wanting to talk to my father about this. I want to tell him that I’m not a Christian and I want to explain why. But it’s the initiation of such a conversation that frightens me. I’m not afraid of his reaction — I don’t think he’s going to do something silly and drastic. Still, I know it will disappoint him to some degree. I’m sure he already realizes it to a point, but for me simply to tell him, I think it would be a bit of a shock. I can only imagine what Mom might do. Of course they’ve both changed with the changes in WCG — perhaps they wouldn’t take it as badly as I might expect.