Sunday in the Village
polska 2022
Uneventful Saturday
Nowy Targ Walkabout
Chabowka 2022
We’ve gone to the outdoor train museum in Chabowka at least twice before: once with L and her cousin S in 2013, once just the Boy and I in either 2015 or 2017. Either way, he was a very little boy the last time we went, so I thought he might enjoy it more as a ten-year-old.
“You mean we get to go in any of those that are open?!” he asked incredulously as we entered.
It was, to say the least, a hit.
But it wasn’t as much of a hit as it could have been: the heat drained us both, and we were certainly less than overwhelmingly enthusiastic as we finished up the visit. If there had been more trains to explore, I think we would have called it quits nonetheless.
We’ve gone to the outdoor train museum in Chabowka at least twice before: once with L and her cousin S in 2013, once just the Boy and I in either 2015 or 2017. Either way, he was a very little boy the last time we went, so I thought he might enjoy it more as a ten-year-old.
“You mean we get to go in any of those that are open?!” he asked incredulously as we entered.
It was, to say the least, a hit.
But it wasn’t as much of a hit as it could have been: the heat drained us both, and we were certainly less than overwhelmingly enthusiastic as we finished up the visit. If there had been more trains to explore, I think we would have called it quits nonetheless.
It’s strange: the temperatures here aren’t anything ridiculous compared to what we experience at home. The high today didn’t even reach the 90s. But it still somehow managed to feel hotter than I would have expected 88 degrees to feel. Indeed, Poland lacks to intense humidity of South Carolina, so I would expect 88 degrees in Poland to feel cooler than it would in SC.
Final Wood, More Rides
First, breakfast — that old Polish favorite, salceson. It’s one of the things along with flaczki and tartare that I look forward to having while in Poland. (I’ve had tartare, and now I can check salceson off the list. Still looking for that bowl of flaczki.) Headcheese (I love that name) is available in the States, but I never buy it. It’s a Polish thing for me.
It is, I suppose, an acquired taste: the consistency is a little odd, alternatingly gelatinous and firm, but the flavor is quite pleasant.
After breakfast, we headed off to the jarmark. It’s Wednesday in Jablonka — there’s only one place to go!
The Boy still has money that’s burning a hole in his cliche, so we stopped at every single knife monger (is that even a term?) for him to look at the available wares. His concern was simple: he wanted something that he could use in scouts, but most of the knives were switchblade-esque: they didn’t look like the old switchblades you’d see in West Side Story, but they did have spring-loaded blades that flipped out at the press of a button.
“I’d better do some research before I buy one,” he wisely decided. (The verdict, as we predicted: such knives are not acceptable for scouting events.)
After we got home, the Boy and I decided to go for a bike ride. After a few kilometers, the Boy turned back. I continued.
It was the same ride as yesterday until the point at which I turned right instead of left. The route I’d mapped out earlier would drop me down toward Chyzne before turning back up toward Jablonka. However, I didn’t count on one thing:
Over a kilometer of deep, thick mud. Virtually impassible mud. I spent a good bit of the middle of the ride with one foot up on the only-slightly-muddy bank pushing myself along or, when the mud to got six or more inches deep, simply walking in the less muddy part and dragging the bike beside me.
After lunch (pierogi z borówkami), Z, a Georgian who rents from Babcia, and I finished up the wood. Even Babcia said we were done — there were no lurking piles that I had not noticed.
Listening to Babcia and Z communicate was a lesson in the value of hand gestures: he speaks a bit of Russian and almost no Polish; she speaks Russian fluently and no Georgian. Their conversations reminded me of Dziadek and Papa talking: I got the feeling neither was really responding fully to the other.
As for me, I used Google Translate to talk with him. I showed Babica and suggested she could use her tablet the same way, but her response was predictable.
Finally, the Boy and I took one more bike ride in the evening, this time through the fields between Jablonka and the two Lipnicas.
The sun was setting so we had to make our ride short. Of course, on the way home, we had to take a spin through his favorite riding location: the empty jarmark.
At the far end were long-abandoned stalls that had seen neither seller or buyer in years. It’s a testament to the changes in Poland: the jarmark is shrinking, probably because of the availability of items in Poland and, truth be told, the comparative lack of quality of many things sold in the jarmark, especially clothing items.
Wooden Bikes
Day two of the wood adventure. Today, we focused on cutting the pieces that were too long to fit in Babcia’s furnace. That meant using an enormous and old homemade table saw to cut the pieces. The blade must have been 14 inches in diameter, with just under half the blade above the table and no way to adjust it. It was, in a word, a nerve-wracking experience. But we got it all done. And there awaits yet another pile, Babcia explained
In the afternoon, we focused on finally getting our bikes ready for a first ride. I had to put the new tire on my back tire having finished the front wheel and tire yesterday. The Boy pumped up the tires of his borrowed bike and we were ready to head out.
It’s been a long time since we’ve ridden; it’s been five years since we’ve ridden here. So many changes in the meantime.
Once the Boy tired and I took him back, I headed out for one of my favorite rides in Jablonka: a 15-kilometer circle through fields and forest.
Wood
Today the Boy and I set out to tackle a basic but important project: sorting and storing all the wood Babcia had delivered in April. It’s largely to serve as kindling for coal-fed fires in the winter months, but during the short time that it’s not necessary to heat the whole house, the word heats the water.
Our job was to move and store the wood. And make a friend along the way:
We had an enormous pile with no before picture for comparison. All we have are pictures of all the various little corners we stored the wood.
And what with my little helper?
Orawskie Lato
Today was an annual festival here in Jablonka — the thirtieth year in a row. That means they began having the festival just a few years before I first arrived. When we’re in Poland, we usually get at least to drop in on this festival.
This year, I saw several former students from those early days. Except for one, I didn’t recognize any of them immediately. I had to ask their name. When a bearded man in his mid-thirties approaches you, you’ll be forgiven if you don’t recognize him as the former student you last saw at age eighteen.
Goralski Wedding
Bridge
Final Full Day
Today was the last full day K and L will be here. Tomorrow afternoon we head to K’s brother’s house for a grill and a short nap before taking the girls to the airport at the ungodly hour of 4:00 am.
Today, we went to Spytkowice to visit with a few people we hadn’t seen at all or had seen only shortly.
And of course, there was the lovely drive home.
But the highlight of the day came at the start of the day, so to speak — before taking Babcia out for a final lunch, we had a short photo session.
The Boy took a picture.
I took a picture of the three generations of ladies.
But the picture of the day, in some ways the picture of the whole trip thus far, was a quick, informal portrait session with Babcia.
Babia Gora
I lived at the base of Babia Gora for seven years and only once tried to reach the summit. Shortly after that, I injured my knee while hiking in the Tatra Mountains. Some time after that, when my knee had healed, I injured the other knee. And so I never made it to the top of Babia. Until today.
Here’s some video showing just how windy it was at the top.
Krakow 2022, Day 2
Krakow 2022, Day 1
Reunion
And of course, there was music.
Pyzowka
I keep repeating myself: X is always a highlight of our time in Polska. When you come here only every few years, I guess everything becomes a highlight. Still, going to Pyzowka to visit K’s dearest friend D and her family has to count as a highlight no matter how you define it.
D is the type of friend you have that, no matter how much time has passed since your last visit, the years disappear in an instant and except for the topics of conversation, your relationship feels little different than it did when you were in high school together. These days, you might talk about the cost of your child applying to college versus the cost of your child going to college if you lived in the states. You might talk about friends that only one of you has seen in the last twenty years and how they’ve changed or not changed. You might talk about the cost of heating your house this year as opposed to last year. These are discussions your parents would have had years ago, but now you have them.
Before you know it, your children will be having them as well. But for now, your children are happy jumping on the trampoline and playing with a puppy. The cost of heating is as distant to them as it was to you when you were their age. They hear your discussions, but they don’t pay much attention to them.
Then again, neither did you.
Castles and Old Friends
Today was a day of castles: Niedzica and Czorsztyn. The former was once guarding the Hungarian border; the latter was protecting the Polish side of the border. In the middle ran a river. A dam completed in 1997 turned that river into a Czorsztynskie Lake.
In the afternoon, we headed to Nowy Targ, just for a bit of ice cream at the best ice cream place on the planet and some baked goods before heading to the highlight of the day.
A visit with my oldest friend here.
Revisiting Hell
Market, Slovakia, and Lipnica
Market
For six days of the week, the stalls stand empty, a sort of minimalistic ghost town of spare wood framing and corrugated metal roofing. The corner of Market and Forest Streets normally looks like this.
But on Wednesdays, when the jarmark comes to town, everything looks different. The stalls fill with vendors and goods, and the streets are essentially closed to traffic as potential customers weave in and out, walking between the various vendors’ invitations to inspect their wares.
“Can we go see the chickens?” the Boy asks as we enter the market. It’s always been a favorite spot for him.
Of course, chickens aren’t the only attraction. Tables covered with knives, hoodies with the most incredible images.
And then there’s all the food.
Slovakia
A trip to Poland isn’t complete without a short trip across the border into Slovakia. Babcia always likes to do a little shopping there, and it’s always pleasant to see a slightly different view of central Europe. Things haven’t changed here as much as they have in Poland. The supermarket on the small rynek looks like it must have 30 or even 40 years ago.
Lipnica
My Polish home for seven years, Lipnica holds a place in my heart like no other.
It’s always a highlight of a trip to Poland, especially when you find out some parts of it are disappearing for good.
The first apartment I had Lipnica was the lower-left apartment of the six-apartment dom nauczyciel. I found out during today’s visit that the entire building is to be demolished in the near future. It suddenly occurred to me that trying to get into the apartment one last time, now that I know that it’s empty, is a bit of a priority for the rest of the time I have here.
But the real surprise of the visit, though, had to do with people.
Two old friends of K and mine whom we haven’t seen over twenty years were there. One is not surprising: she still lives in Lipnica; the other, also named K, lives in New York, home visiting her parents. It was these three women, then girls, who approached me during one of my first visits to a disco in Lipnica and said, “You’re the new English teacher. We want to practice our English.”
Bowling and Cards
Traveling always risks bad weather; coming to Poland, for us it seems, just about guarantees it. After several lovely days (how many? four? five?), it’s supposed to rain. Every day. For the rest of K’s and L’s stay in Poland.
Still, we make the most of what we’ve got, like using leftover meat from rosol to make pierogi for lunch, or using the rainy weather to chop a little wood for Babcia.
After lunch we met with K’s brother’s family for some more bowling. This time, we took two lanes, and the adults played as well. That was a mistake: my long-injured finger began aching again, and I made it through two frames before I decided that it might be less painful to have my finger in a vice than roll even the lightest bowling ball available.
Afterward, we all headed back to Babcia’s for games and conversation. Hearing the cousins laugh and argue and joke together is a lovely bit of chaos.
And finally, I talked the girls into the first of several photo recreations. The original image is from 2008, when L was a year and a half old and S was a year older. They barely fit into the tub together now.
