In Sopot
poland xii
More Thoughts from Sopot
I’m in the church again. I didn’t know it, but they’re having a mass now. There are about twenty people here, including a man in the confession booth behind me. There’s no altar boy, but an old man is wearing the little white outfit and ringing all the bells. The church is much more well-light; the light is bouncing off the white walls, but it’s still not very bright. I am the only one sitting right now, and I feel a bit conspicuous, but not too much. They sing in unison, but not everyone joins in. Some are standing right behind me — a weird feeling. The priest initiates a song then steps away from the mic, still singing. The priest holds the host, hand under to catch crumbs (?), says a prayer, then a thin, cheap sounding bell is rung. He goes to the gold box, gets out a cup, then passes out the host. About three people go for the host. He puts the cup back, the bell is rung. He wipes the crumbs into the goblet, mixes in some wine, drinks it, wipes the goblet out with a white cloth. He folds the cloth lengthwise, lays it over the goblet, places a lid-like thing over it and the altar man takes it away. Then he sings a prayer — a chant in two tones. Everyone stands to sing. I can’t see what happens. When they sit, the priest is gone. After a few moments, the lights are dimmed. A few remain, but most file out quietly. A man in jeans is now taking the sound system down. It’s like a concert in reverse: The lights go down at the end and the roadies waste no time breaking down everything.
The ritual and hierarchy [are] amazing. I can’t see why people subject themselves to it. Out of love? Fear? K wants her beliefs to be based on love, but I don’t know if it’s possible.
So now a little about the past couple of days. Wednesday night the Volunteers (And then There Were Three . . . ) played at a local bar. I missed most of it. I was looking for a bite to eat. When I got there I began talking to Julie L. She said the following: “I felt like you were completely overshadowed.”
Skipping Class
I’m in the main church here in Sopot, skipping the first language lesson of the day. I needed some time alone, I decided. Who knows what PC administration might say.
This church is really quite small and relative modern. The walls are white with bricks along the edges serving as a border. It makes the whole thing look a bit like Lego blocks. The church yesterday in Gda sk was enormous. With its thin pillars and high, arched ceiling, it was the epitome of Gothic architecture. The entire interior was white, a creamy, Liquid Paper kind of dirty white. There was an enormous organ which J. S. Bach supposedly loved, an altar made in the fifteenth century that was at least twenty feet tall, and a huge crucifix with Mary and Peter (?) Standing at the base of the cross, with a skull at the bottom (Golgotha, I guess). There was another crucifix with a strikingly lifelike face which had an intriguing legend attached: The unknown artist hung a man on a cross and watched as he died to obtain an accurate likeness.
Around the walls of this church in Sopot are representations of the stations of the cross. I don’t know what they are, but they are all very similar: Christ on the way to Golgotha carrying the cross through a dark and empty landscape encountering several people along the way. Christ is always painted with a tired and somewhat painfully confused visage, almost childlike in some pictures.
People filter into the church to pray. Some even carry bags with the fruits of their morning shopping. It’s as if they are just dropping in on their way home. It’s rather strange. Are they offering their own prayers, or the Bisquick prayers they’re taught as children? I cannot understand the prewritten, memorized prayer. How can that mean anything? I remember the woman in Wraclaw who glanced at her watched as she muttered her prayer. It’s just another part of the ritual and repetition meant to keep people from thinking on their own.
At the top of the phallic arch over the alter is the eagle/chicken national symbol of Poland. A nice combination of religion and nationalism.
As I look around, I notice the arches on the side of the church have a particularly noticeable penile shape, complete with a tapered tip. I wonder why that is. The WCG of old could explain it, but I’m not sure it’s attributable to Satan’s evil influence . . .
Language School
We had our first language classes today and it’s good for a couple of reasons. It was good to learn a little more Polish. But more importantly, it taught me a lot about what it’s like to be a student. As I struggled to think of something to say to Sue, I thought of how all my students must feel. It’s not an effective teaching method. Even simple things that I say so often came with great difficulty. I must find more effective teaching methods which are also more comfortable for students.
I’m finding that I’m falling into that strange apathy I felt in K. Dolny. I am alone at times, and I don’t want to be with anyone. Still, I don’t want to do anything that might assure me of being alone.
It seems that I am always taking the initiative to talk to people. Few people have sought me out of the group to talk. As we walked through Sopot today I didn’t really talk to much of anyone. And after the reception I wandered around, not really feeling like I’m part of the group. I don’t mind in a way.
Waiting in Krakow
Location: Krakow Glowny Train Station Waiting Room
I’ve about an hour until I leave for Sopot on a horrific six hour train ride. I’m in the waiting area, sitting beside the first woman I’ve ever heard say kurwa. She turned toward me as she laughed – many teeth were missing and the few that remained were any and all colors except white. Two police officers are winding through the crowd – no, three – asking questions I don’t understand. They’ve said nothing to me, and I am a little grateful. Two tired bums sit with blank expressions. They probably haven’t shaved or bathed in weeks. A drunk just bumped into me and he apologized with glazed eyes. An old man sits across from me, his hands folding in his lap and gazing quietly with almost childlike eyes. A group of gypsies sit together, looking at photographs. Some people read, some eat, and we all wait.
Waiting is not something I will miss when I return to America.
EKG Forest
I am now sitting at my desk which is now in front of the bedroom okno looking occasionally at the school. I borrowed a chair from Roy so that now I am reasonably comfortable as I write. It was snowing heavily until a few moments ago, but now it’s not falling at all.
I can see the hay fields to the left of the school, the fields from which I’ve taken so many pictures. The hay triangles/pyramids are slightly visible, and the forest is a hazy band of darkness on the hill-top horizon. The doubled glass in the window makes everything sway and bend as in an amusement park mirror. The half-built house beside the school shrinks and grows as I move my head just a slight amount. The tips of the trees form a jagged border resembling an EKG chart. What it’s graphing, I’ve no idea. The clouds are whizzing by, and I can hear the wind that carries them whistling around the corners of the apartment building. There is a small patch of clear; I can see the baby blue sky through it as if it’s a floating window. The clouds around it, illuminated, form a white border in the grey. And I hear an unseen jet above the grey ceiling.
I like being in this room. I spend so much time in the big room that it becomes a bit stifling, I think. I guess now I’ll be spending much more time in here. I think any change can be good, and this one is very much so.
Crucifix
There are crucifixes in each and every classroom at my school. Separation of church and state is not a goal of the Polish democracy. So every day I teach with a little statue of a man nailed to a tree hanging right above my head. “It gives some people comfort,” says Danuta, my counterpart English teacher. I suppose that’s possible.
Early in the first semester the director told me to come down to the new English classroom to tell him where I wanted the bulletin boards. (The boards were actually sheets of styrofoam attached to the wall. Economical.) He drilled the holes, put up the styrofoam, then drilled the hole for the crucifix. I wondered how he would respond if I said, “I don’t want that in my classroom.” No doubt he would be confused, and maybe (probably?) a bit upset with my irreverence. Of course I said nothing. “When in Poland . . . ”
It’s got me to thinking about the whole religious symbolism in Christianity. The cross is a sacred symbol because it represents Christ’s death to millions of Christians around the world. It is a simple character, almost reminiscent of minimalism in its barest form. Most people wear crosses because it is an outward expression of their inner convictions. Yet I wonder: If Jesus had slipped in the shower and bonked his head, would we be wearing Soap-On-A-Rope? Would giant bath-size Dial bars replace steeples at churches? Would we make bathing motions every time we enter a church? It would shed new light on what Pilate said: “Okay, I wash my hands of the whole issue!”
Anyone seen Monty Python’s Life of Brian? Remember the scene where they’re trying to decide what symbol they’ll use to indicate that they are followers of Brian? “The shoe! The shoe!” I suppose that scene prefigures my own speculations. Yet both point out how virtually arbitrary religious symbols are. If Christ were to be put to death today, I suppose twenty-first century Christians would use the electric chair or a hangman’s noose as the primary symbol.
The crucifixes are just one indication of how strong Catholicism is in Poland. For many, to be Polish is to be Catholic. They are virtually synonymous. In fact, next to every crucifix is a relief in plastic of the national symbol of Poland. Religion and nationalism, hand in hand, as they so often are.
Lipnica Wielka, Lipnica Mala
I didn’t look at the destination sign closely this afternoon so it took me three hours to get from Jabłonka to Lipnica Wielka because the bus I got on went to Lipnica Ma a. And of course as I was walking through the fields toward Lipnica the sun set. And the sky was cloudy, so I turned around and went back to the road. I was afraid I would get lost in the forest which had appeared before me so very suddenly.
I walked for a while and suddenly a babcia stopped me and asked, “Skad jestes?” I thought for a moment and pointed toward the end of the village and muttered, “Tam.” And she asked me again. I was angry and tired, and though I understood her words, I didn’t understand what she meant. I tried again: “Jestem z Ameryki.” She shook her head. “Skad jestes›?” she asked again. “Gdzie?” I asked. “Hej!” she confirmed, rephrasing it, “Gdzie byłes› ?” I told her everything: “Mieszkam w Lipnicy Wielkiej. Byłem tam,” pointing again. I apologized, “Musze isc,” and left.
I tried for an hour to get a ride via autostop, but no one did. They would all turn on their lights to see who I was, then drive on without slowing. I laughed as I wondered why they didn’t stop. “Myslysz, ze ja bede mowic, ‘Daj mi twój maly fiat?'” I yelled at them.
Finally one guy stopped. He asked me where I was going. He muttered something about “sto” something. “Bedzie dobry,” I sighed and started to get in. He yelled something and drove off, only to pull into a drive sto meters away. What I want to know is if he was only going 100 meters, why the hell did he pull over in the first place?
Another car pulled out of a drive behind me, drove about fifty meters and began slowing as it approached me. “Finally,” I thought., but the car passed me and pulled into another driveway, about seventy-five meters away from where it began. “Lazy jerk,” I thought.
Finally someone gave me a ride. I walked the final kilometer to the main road from Jabłonka where I quickly caught a ride all the way back to dom naucy–oh, to my apartment.
Stupid day . . .
Thoughts on Alcohol
This afternoon I saw the man who has a mustache and red beret entering the gmina. He is short with a fierce look of arrogance in his eyes. He often struts, and more often he staggers. I seldom see him sober and I never see him without a cigarette. At the store he strutted in and threw down some money and said gruffly, “Daj mi Popularnie,” the cheapest brand of cigarettes at about 1.20 z a pack or about $0.44.
It got me to thinking about drunkenness and alcoholism in general. It seems that for a long time we either turned a blind eye to the problem or we laughed at it (as illustrated by the character Otis on The Andy Griffith Show). In America it is often hidden away, shuffled to the slums or closed behind suburban doors. But here, it is out in the open. People click their tongues and shake their heads, but they’ve become desensitized, I think. And since many of the women who click their tongues go home to alcoholic husbands, it’s hard [to imagine that they] feel much more than disgust. They are codependent in the original sense of the word, and when they see a man staggering down the street, they see him in their own pain, and the only reaction that seems logical is revulsion.
Grandmother’s Day
I had a rather successful lesson with IB today. I wrote the lyrics for “Come On Come On” and cut the song into strips. I left blanks for a few words, so first they had to put the song in the proper order, then fill in the missing words. The whole thing took up the full class period, and everyone got involved and stayed busy.
The lessons with IA went well, too. The first lesson we worked on the animal crossword puzzle. I gave them the complete list, let them study it and ask questions, then took the lists back up and gave them the puzzles. The second lesson was simple: I had everyone write a letter to Maw-Maw. It was Grandmothers’ Day Tuesday and I thought it would make a nice surprise for Maw-Maw–and keep the kids busy during the last lesson of the semester.
An interesting romance has sprung up between Anna P. in IB (the one I always call on, hoping to boost her confidence) . . . and Zbeszek. I saw them walking hand in hand yesterday. I hope that his apathy doesn’t rub off onto her . . .
The weather has warmed considerably this week. Snow is melting and the ice on the road has turned to black slush. I walk about without a hat or gloves and nothing turns numb. There was a beautiful full moon last night, but the standard clouds have returned and it is as dark as a moonless night now. But the starts don’t provide any surrogate light. It seems unlikely that this warmth will last, and in a way I don’t even want it to. The black snow and the dirty slush serve as a prelude to the inevitably muddy spring that is on the way. Spring will bring many good things, but they will arrive in a muddy package.
I wonder what this is doing for the frozen creek? Obviously some of the ice is melting, but is it becoming unsafe? Kids have been skating and playing on it for weeks now, and until I saw how thick it is, I did feel a little anxious each time I saw them. I guess there’s nothing I can do unless I see something happen. I don’t worry about it.
I wonder if the ice will audibly pop when it thaws. I’ve always read about the gunshot noise rivers make; would a small stream do such a thing? If so I doubt it would be loud enough for me to hear unless I happened to be close to it. Perhaps I will be by some stroke of luck.
Halina (IA) did not come to school the entire three weeks between the two breaks. I wonder if she’ll come back at all. I should go up to the Haven and see what’s going on there. Perhaps she’ll be back after winter break.
She was always a bit confusing. In some ways she seemed very eager to learn. But often she was incredibly apathetic about everything. I think part of it was due to a lack of confidence. But her English seemed rather good. Or at least she’d become very good at faking understanding. I think she might actually ahve been bored in class. I know that she felt a bit out of place because of the age difference between her and the rest of the class.
Stagnation
I need to do some thinking about IIA, for I am really beginning to stagnate in there. They are bored silly most of the time. It’s fine occasionally, but it is not good if it happens all the time.
I think part of the problem is their level. It’s difficult to plan for that level because the simple things I do in IA/B wouldn’t work that well. And a bit of it is their age: a tough group at that age when they feel trapped between adulthood and childhood.
Some of it could be a lack of long term planning. I never seem to know where we’ll be going next, and I think the kids can tell this too. During the break I will to make at least a tentative syllabus for the rest of the year. I am not sure I’ll be able to make it very detailed–it problem will be a week-by-week thing. I will try to include a few long-term projects as well as a general idea of when we’ll have tests.
My water heater is gone. The drip turned into a pour last night and I actually was able to get someone to do something about it.
I just realized the extremes of my working conditions: On the one hand, I overuse the book in IIA; on the other, I don’t even use a book for classes V and VI. What i need to do is combine the two in IIA in order to find that Golden Mean. Maybe I can apply some of the tactics I use in V and VI successfully in IIA. I can use the book as a guide, but invent my own activities for practice and application. I’ll try it Wednesday for the lesson with adjectives.
I received a notice from PC Warsaw that I’ve been waiting for for months now: My diplomatic pouch is here. In other words, my computer is now in Poland, if you can believe it. And so I might have it in a couple of weeks. That is of course if someone will bring it up to Sopot, which honestly seems a little bit unrealistic.
Of course now I have to get it to work here . . .
Settling In Again
I am thinking of those now waiting to leave for Poland to be group XIII. At this point last year, nothing was really firm (I think), but I was already sure that I would be leaving in May or June. It is probably too soon for anyone (including staff) to know all that much. Still, someone must surely get as excited as I did when I suddenly found myself pacing the hall, trying to imagine what live in PC would be like.
Now that I am here and settled, I have difficulty remembering what the waiting and uncertainty were like. And I certainly have trouble trying to imagine what my return will be like.
Lately I’ve been particularly pleased with my life in Lipnica. I am comfortable here, for a number of reasons: I feel much more confident in my teaching. I also feel much better about my Polish, and I think these two factors contribute the most to my present contentment. I enjoy what I do, and I have reason to believe that I do it well; and I do not feel as challenged by my environment. Other factors are surely my friends. I am not lonely in the way that I was when I first got to Lipnica. Lastly, I am just generally settled in, with a routine and a degree of organized regularity: I know what’s going on.
Photo Development
This has been the nicest day I’ve had in a very long time. Out of the blue I had this splendid day. I knew my lessons would go well but so did everything else.
I’ll begin with the lessons. In IB I did an exercise with can/can’t. I wrote fifteen jobs/occupations on the board and asked, “What can a pilot do? A dancer?” Then everyone got a card with one of the jobs on it. They had to find out who had the other jobs by asking, “Can you dance? Can you fly a plane?” To end the lesson everyone had to tell one thing s/he learned: “I know Sylwia (actually there’s no Sylwia in IB, but oh well) is a pianist because she can play the piano.” It went rather well because almost everyone was busy for the whole time.
The lesson for IA, though, was even better. It is the best lesson I’ve come up with thus far. I prepared a word search with irregular verbs in the past tense. Once they found the verb (“gave” for instance) they took a small slip of paper I’d given them and wrote the base form on it (“give” in this case, of course). They wrote each base form on a separate sheet, and I gave them about twenty to twenty-five minutes to work on the puzzle. After that they took the verb slips and got in groups of three or four and played a game. Each player, one at a time, put a verb slip on the table and challenged anyone at the table. The challenged student had to say the irregular past tense of the verb and write it on the slip. If it was right, s/he got the slip; if wrong and the challenger corrected, s/he got the slip; if neither noticed and and a third player noticed it was wrong, s/he got the slip. Most slips=winner. It went perfectly. And they loved it.
After lunch, I went on my walk. And it was very relaxing and rewarding. I took about ten pictures, mostly (maybe exclusively, but I can’t remember) of children playing. I found a group of boys from sixth class (and Piotrek from eighth class) who were sledding and I took several shots of them. Then I went for one run. They were flying down a short but steep hill then gliding onto the frozen stream. I made it to the stream but for a moment feard I wouldn’t make it back–the ice cracked and moaned under me. One of the boys showed me the safest path and I was very thankful to make it back to solid ground.
I also finally got some shots of the sled-strollers that people use to haul kids on. It was Beata (IA) and her niece Claudia (Klaudia po polsku, chyba). Klaudia was wrapped like a mummy with only her face showing. She made some gurgling sounds at me as I took the pictures.
I felt more comfortable taking pictures today. The more I do it the less conspicuous I feel. Perhaps by summer (or even spring) I’ll have done it enough that everyone pretty much ignores me.
Taking pictures of kids is particularly enjoyable. At first they act and pose for me, but then they ignore me and I can get the shots I am really looking for. I’ve a feeling I”ll take pictures of kids more than anything else.
I was thinking about IIB today and I came up with a strategy to get to Zbeszek. I’m going to ask him to teach me to play ping pong. Or at least try. Perhaps that way, while spending non-academic time with him, I can get to know him on a more personal level, and this should help in class too.l
Gdzie byłeś?
I had a wonderful afternoon. To begin with, I repeated my performance in IIB. I walked out feeling that I had taught them a little, and I left (most importantly) with my sanity.
It was glorious and so very sunny this afternoon, so I took my camera and a roll of twenty-four and went for a walk, talking all twenty-four pictures in the process. I took a shot of chickens that I can’t wait to see, as well as one of a little boy struggling to sky.
I encountered Adam M. from VI as I was heading home. Gdzie byłeś? he asked, and I noticed that he had used the familiar voice. That I noticed was a little surprising. And once I realized it, I didn’t know what to do. “Pan” is more appropriate in the classroom, but I am pleased that he felt comfortable enough with me to use the familiar form. I knew he wasn’t testing me to see my reaction (like someone from II might); he probably did it without thinking.
The other day–yesterday, I guess–Danuta made an interesting request. “Make them take off their coats in IIB,” she asked.
I asked her why.
“Because it looks stupid!” she replied, as if that was the obvious answer.
I told her, “Look, I don’t care if they look stupid or not.”
“Well, you’re responsible for how the class and classroom look, and if the director comes in and sees it like that, he’ll talk to you about it.”
It is just that kind of arbitrary exercise of power (abuse, rather than exercise) that pisses kids off, and rightfully so. I don’t care what the kids look like; it’s not my concern as long as it’s not disrupting the class.
“They don’t think about the lesson when they have their coats on,” she contended, as if taking their coats off would be a magic switch that gets their minds on the lesson. if they’re thinking about going home with their coats on, they’ll be thinking about going home while not wearing their coats. It’s a trivial matter, and it is only disruptive if you let it be.
This is another illustration of the fact that Danuta wants only their undivided attention. She is never going to get it, and neither is any other teacher. The only thing she can do is accept that and work within that limitation. No teacher ever has the attention of the whole class; Danuta is just really sensitive concerning IIB
24
First Birthday in Poland
People have been giving me birthday presents all day. First, IA gave me a stuffed mouse, some cologne, and a rose. Then IB gave me a hug stuffed elephant and a generous bunch of flowers. Danuta gave me a wonderful box of candy and a hug. Kinga came over with a plant, some chocolate, and a bag of potato chips. When it was all said and done, I was left bewildered that so many took the time out of their day to be so generous.
I hope I can remember this when I get down on this whole thing. It shows that I am making a difference, or at least I choose to view it as such. They at least like me . . . and that goes a long way in making learning a more enjoyable process.
The phone adventures continue: I have to pay 400 zł by Wednesday if I want my phone turned on. This is ridiculous. No one ever said a single word about this. What is so ridiculous is that this money is payment in advance for telephone use. So I don’t even have a working phone and yet I have a 400 zł phone bill. I don’t have the money, and I won’t have it for a while. It’s glupi.
C told me the nature of Mark Ahlseen’s response: “You are confusing economics and ethics.” This is a ridiculous and in fact impossible categorization. One cannot say that ethics and science or ethics and economics are different categories. Ethics is present in all aspects of life, and to deny this is silly.
In defense of my position, I offer the following example: Hitler is a business man with a belief that Jews are ruining his business. He forms an organization–no, this is not what I want to say. I’ll try again.
Suppose that Hitler had incorporated the Nazi party. Now its only responsibility (according to Ahlseen’s line of thinking) is to make money. Determining that the Jews are a liability to this one responsibility, Nazi Inc. decides to take active measures to increase its shareholders’ profits by eliminating Jews. But we cannot make a moral judgment because this would be mixing business and ethics.
Now this is a ridiculous and far-fetched example, but no doubt you made a moral judgment concerning this. In this exceptional case, as it is so very far-fetched, you mixed ethics and economics. My point is simple: How do you know when an example/situation is too far fetched. How do you decide when it is a–oh, this isn’t working either.
The point I shall try to make is simple: One cannot compartmentalize life so simply. To try to remove all ethical consideration from something, to say, “This is economics, not ethics,” is to run a great risk. This renders abortion immune to moral consideration because it is a matter of medicine, not ethics. The linguist who wants to see where language comes from by isolating infants from human contact to see if they develop their own language is free from moral judgment because this is a matter of linguistics, not ethics. The biologist who wants to experiment on fertilized human eggs can do so with no thought [to] whether it is right or wrong because, after all, it’s a matter of reproductive biology, not ethics.
Ethics is not an isolated science which only Dr. Rohr has any knowledge about. While Dr. Moyer might have a highly elevated knowledge of biology when compared to the average King student, Dr. Rohr on a practical level is just the same as everyone concerning ethics. He knows a great deal about the theory of ethics, but not any more about the practice of ethics. Okay, this hit a wall too.
Ethics is not a science in the same way economics or biology is. While not everyone can understand or carry out complex microbiological experiments or analyze the insurance market in Austria to make predictions for the next year, everyone practices ethics. This is because ethics is simply the process of deciding what is right and wrong. Ethical theories, whether prescriptive or descriptive, are simply attempts to define clearly this process.
We make ethical decisions all the time. Some are minor (“Do I flip that guy off for cutting me off?”); some are major (“Should I have this abortion?”) but we are making them daily. In fact, I would argue that when we act we have already decided (except in moments of irrational haste) that our action is right, thereby engaging in an ethical consideration. When the businessman decides to build a factory in Guatamal, he as already decided it is morally acceptable. (He might not have given it much conscious thought, but it is a moral decision. when we act, we do so under the assumption that we are in the right. To do otherwise is literally unconsciously.
I am tired of this. When the time comes, I will respond . . .
While not everyone is a microbiologist, we are all ethical philosophers on a daily basis.
“Corporations’ only responsibility is to make money.” This premise operates under the faulty assumption that corporations are autonomous entities, which they are not. They are groups of people operating with a common goal, and therefore they can be held accountable for their decisions and actions. If not, it’s a good thing that Stalin, Hitler, and Karadzic were leaders of political parties instead of [corporate executive officers].
My response will run something like that. I anticipate his argument to consist of those two pointless: ethics and economics are two different things, and corporations only have to make money. So I must show that it is impossible to remove the thread of ethics rom live, and that corporations . . .
People have responsibilities (moral obligations), corporations don’t. If people and corporations are the same thing, then corporations do not have moral obligations. but this must mean corporations are not people . . .
Oh, give it a rest for now . . .
Thoughts on the Seasons
It is now the middle of winter, and though we have already passed the winter solstice and the days are growing, the bulk of winter lies before us. Spring is at least three months away.
One thing about winter that I have noticed here is the relative lack of natural sounds. The snow makes no sound as it piles up. (It is amusing to imagine what it would sound like if flakes made metallic sounds, like jingling keys, when they hit each other. Winter would be cacophony.) Of course there is the squeak and crunch of snow as one plods along, but even that is man-made. Nature seems to take a symphonic rest during winter. It is undoubtedly resting for the upcoming program: rain and birds in the spring and summer, and rustling leaves in the [autumn]. There is the trickle of melted snow forming streams and ponds, and the moan and creak of the ice layer the stream as it begins to flow again. Late summer will bring fabulous thunderstorms (Mam nadziela) that will keep me up at night. (And perhaps I’ll be able to capture it on film this time.)
In the meantime, all I can do is appreciate the quiet beauty of winter. And it is spectacular. In Bristol snow never stays on the ground for longer than ten days (which would be exceptionally long). There might be spots of snow in heavily shaded areas, but not the continual blanket of Lipnica. The temperature is consistently below zero, so old snow remains as a foundation for the occasional flurries. Yet despite the amount of snow on the ground, it really hasn’t snowed that frequently. The bulk of the snow now on the ground is from two heavy snow falls, and it hasn’t done much more than flurry since then.
Change in Plans
I had the most successful and least stressful lesson with IIB today. I introduced present continuous and basically took no nonsense from them. I lectured in an even, slow voice, writing things on the board and asking no questions. Instead of involving the students in the presentation (i.e. asking questions that lead them to “discover” the point I’m trying to make), I told them, “This is the present continuous tense. This is how we form it. This is when we use it. This is how it differs from present simple . . .” I gave them a worksheet, basically saying, “Screw student-to-student interactive practice.” They do not handle even the slightest freedom well, so I held the reins the whole forty-five minutes. And the damnedest thing happened: They asked questions; they put forth a little bit of effort. I was shocked. Never again will I treat IIB like I do the other classes. Authoritarian, discipline-based teaching is the only thing that works. I am almost looking forward to next week’s lesson to see if it words again . . .
Strange things with my camera: At first I couldn’t get the shutter to open. I finally figured out that I wasn’t advancing the film properly. Then the real mystery struck: My light meter is no longer working. I am hoping that it is just that the batteries are dead. If not, I”ll spend a lot of money learning how to set the f-stop and shutter speed in various conditions. I should be in Nowy [Targ] Friday, so I’ll hunt down a couple of new batteries.
Marion was in dom nauczyciela blessing people’s houses. He stopped by my place but didn’t come in; even after I asked “Co robisz?” he didn’t offer to sprinkle water around my place. He probably knows (from Danuta) that I am not a Catholic . . .
First SLR
I went to Nowy yesterday on the 9:18 bus and got home at almost 10:00 last night because I made a spur of the moment trip to Zakopane with Charles and James. It was a most rewarding day. I always enjoy time with James, and Charles is Charles.
The ride to Nowy Targ was a pain in the ass. The bus was really late getting to centrum and the driver was anxious to get back on schedule. As a result, he was a bit test. He shoved me from the door so that others could squeeze in. It pissed me off, for he was treating everyone with a complete lack of respect. I didn’t buy a ticket because I didn’t want to have to deal with him. When we got to N.T. I went ahead and paid even though I could have just walked on out. He commented on my honesty, I think.
At the Zakopane market I bought a Zenit–the more expensive model. I am really pleased with it so far. It has a light meter built in, unlike the other one I was looking at. I like the added security it provides. Since I paid 400 zl for it, though, I was unable to get the zoom lens. I’ll get it some other time.
So today is Roy’s big day. I’ve got a couple of PC X’s staying with me, and it will make for a busy weekend, to be sure. And of course I am a bit excited for myself because it will be my very first Polish wedding. It promises to be at the very least somewhat surreal.
The phone is dead again . . .
End of Break
I can’t deny that in some ways I have been dreading today. The return to a normal schedule after a long break is often difficult. After being able to wallow in bed for as long as I want and having no appointments to keep, it is now a bit trying to return to the “normal life” This is especially true when I realize that after a month we have another break. (This last half of the school year is going to zoom by . . .)
Yet I am excited, too. I have some new resources and I feel that I have a much more realistic approach to teaching now. I know what to expect out of myself and my students. But the most significant change is that I know my students. This in itself is the cause of some of my excitement. I look forward to seeing most of my students again. There are some that I don’t know well, and hence I am ambivalent. Yet many of my students–I am just anxious to see them again.
Wigilia 1996
