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the boy

Support

Monday 10 July 2017 | 0 Comments

They say there are no atheists in foxholes, but more obvious is the fact that there are no strangers in foxholes. I’ve read that in high-tension battle situations, soldiers are not fighting for any sort of grand patriotic notion but simply to protect the men beside them. Challenges bring people together, in short.

I saw that myself a week or so ago when L and I together went through the toughest course at the local line park. We bonded in a way we hadn’t ever really done before.

Today, though, instead of experiencing it, I witnessed it. We went back to the line park with S, L’s and K’s cousin, who was a little hesitant at first about the whole idea. S is not really like L, who will dive into some things without thinking. S is a bit more hesitant. So when I suggested this morning that we might go to a line park after lunch -- if it stopped raining -- her first reaction, other than, “What’s a line park,” was hesitant. When L and I explained what it was, her reached changed just a little -- up went the eyebrows.

“Maybe…” was all we got.

In the end, she agreed, and in the end, she loved it. And in the final count of things, she agreed that it would be fun to try it again.

The Boy, though, is not big enough to go on any of the courses except the "Junior Course."

But there were a couple of things that everyone was eligible to do.

Lazy Sunday

Sunday 09 July 2017 | 0 Comments

First, the Boy decided he wanted to help Babcia with the rosol. After making the broth of chicken, duck, and beef, she adds vegetables, and the Boy always loves helping in the kitchen.

"Babcia, do you have a cutting board?" he asked, and before she knew it, he was carefully cutting the bits of rejected cabbage and other veggies.

Afterwards came the walk -- but first, the Boy had to open Babcia's tricky back gate.

Out on the walk, I decided we needed to change things up. Instead of heading straight to the river, we turned left where we normally continue straight. I had a feeling we would end up on the other side of the river, but E was lost. Until we saw the river a little bit later. Then crossed a bridge over the river. Then saw the spot at the river we normally visit -- only from the other side.

The dog of course enjoyed all the puddles

Life at Babcia’s

Saturday 08 July 2017 | 0 Comments

A clothes drier is a standard item in the States. I don't know anyone who, having a washing machine, doesn't have a drier. That's simple enough to understand: electricity and gas are both cheap in the States, and driers are almost always packaged with washers. In Poland, though, it's a different story.

In much of rural Poland, gas lines simple don't exist: all gas products use propane tanks. And as far as electricity goes -- forget it. It's ridiculously expensive compared to what we pay in the States. Bottom line: Babcia doesn't has a drier, and that means one thing -- there's a lot more ironing going on in Babcia's house than in our house. Everything -- jeans, tee-shirts, underwear (and I'm not joking here; some people do iron their underwear), bed clothes, everything -- gets ironed.

With all the additional clothes, that would be a ridiculous amount if work, so we try to iron as much as we can. (I say "try" because Babcia is liable sometimes to pull everything off the lines and iron it all while we're out hiking or some similar silliness.)

Today, E learned to iron. L insisted that she knew how to already, and when she began ironing her own clothes, it seemed that she did indeed know how to. The Boy, though, needed lots of instruction. They both need a lot of work with folding, though.

The outcome: after a few minutes, they were fussing and arguing over who got to iron.

Oravsky Hrad — Redux

Friday 07 July 2017 | 0 Comments

A fourth (or is it fifth? or third?) visit to Oravsky Hrad. This time, a few changes. A simplified camera set up to accompany a simplified tour due to the ages of our tourist. And a few random thoughts that unwound along the way.

Thought One

In the crypt of the chapel at Orava Castle there are three coffins, two small ones and a large one. The tour being in Slovak and only partially comprehensible to me, I'm not sure if I understood it all, but I believe the two coffins are those of one owner's children, an eight month old and a four year old. I had one of those moments: I remember what family life used to be, even for the riches and most fortunate. Infant mortality was unbelievably high (compared to now), and even living past five or six was not assumed. Having children might mean burying them before they were a year old, and it might mean burying multiple children. They could have died for any number of diseases that have now been virtually eradicated through improved hygiene, a better understanding of disease and its transmission, and effective vaccines. Yet for them, each child's death was something of a mystery. Sure, they recognized and categorized diseases based on symptoms, but the actual cause was a mystery, as was any possible prevention.

And so I am grateful that I live in a time when protecting my children against measles, for example -- a potentially fatal disease that, according to the WHO, would have resulted in "an estimated 20.3 million deaths" between 2000-2015. I'm grateful that I live in a time when I can take my child to the doctor and get a diagnosis and medication to help the child. I'm grateful that I've never once wondered whether my children will die of measles or small pox before they turn five. As I looked at the smallest casket, I felt fairly sure that her parents would have given almost anything to have that kind of security.

Thought Two

Orava Castle was the set for Nosferatu, a 1922 film adaptation of Dracula. I remember hearing that the idea of a blood sucking tyrant came from Vlad the Impaler. Here was a man who could do just about anything to just about anyone and became famous for a particularly brutal way of killing. He seems to be the exact opposite of what we have in most countries in the Western world today, where the rule of law treats everyone -- theoretically -- the same. Anyone from a homeless person to the President of the United States can be subject to the same law.

Yet what is most surprising about Vlad is that he was a real law-and-order guy. While there were plenty of people who were killed for arbitrary things, a great number were killed due to transgressions of Vlad's severe moral code.

Further, Vlad was involved in fighting the Turks and preventing the spread of Islam in Europe. Despite his brutality, he was considered an orthodox Christian, and the Pope had little to nothing to say about his viciousness. He was, after all, fighting the Turks -- the rest is insignificant, right?

When the Turks' invasion began overwhelming Vlad's forces, he began a scorched-Earth policy, destroying villages on both sides of the Danube to slow the Turks' progress. This meant destroying his own people in vast numbers.

And so I began thinking about how we take this for granted today. We don't raise our children wondering whether or not our own leader is going to slaughter them trying to save his own power. We don't have to fear our rulers' whims because they are subject to the same laws we are.

Previous Visits

Tour Guide

Oravský Hrad

Ten Miles

Thursday 06 July 2017 | 0 Comments

I’ve often mentioned how we tend to repeat things during our visits to Poland. The island in Slovakia that we visited yesterday--countless times. The castle we might head to tomorrow if weather turns bad--many, many visits. The line park in Zubrzyca Gorna--who knows! In some cases, like the line park, it’s just because we like it. Or rather, our kids like it. Sometimes it’s because of taking various visitors to certain sites. And sometimes, it’s just because we think it might be good for our kids to experience it once again at an older age.

Today’s adventures included all the above.

We went back to Dolina Chochołowska, a valley that runs through the Polish Tatras just at the border of Slovakia. It’s a place where you can see some incredible views, soak your feet in some frigid mountain water, and get enough exercise to exhaust almost anyone.

In short, we did ten miles today. The “we” consisted of two grown men, two five-year-olds, an eight-year-old, and a ten-year-old. The two youngest trekkers made the vast majority of the trip on their own. E rode one my shoulders for perhaps half a mile, maybe a little less, perhaps a bit more. But the vast majority of it, his little five-year-old, short legs carried him. Willingly. Without fussing.

The Girl was a fussing mess the last time we hiked Dolina Chochołowska four years ago. Today, the only worries came when, during a break, she slipped off the rocks where she was playing and got her shoes wet. But even that was only a momentary set-back. She took her socks off and continued the rest of the way (probably four more miles) in wet sneakers with very little complaining.

As usual, click on the pictures for a larger version:

Zab 2017

Thursday 29 June 2017 | 0 Comments

It must be a late-June/early-July weather acclimation thing. Or maybe it's halny. Or maybe -- likely -- it's just coincidence. At any rate, it's late June, and we're in Poland, so that means we head to Babcia's ancestral village, Zab.

In 2008, it was July 9.

Tooth

In 2010, it was June 28.

Ząb

In 2013, it was July 1.

Visiting Ząb

In 2015, it was June 28.

Ząb 2015

And in 2017, it was June 29.

Out of our five visits, then, there's one outlier, and only by a week. Whatever the coincidence, it's always an enjoyable highlight of the visit to Poland. But the day didn't quite start out as auspiciously as it ended. It began like you might expect a day in the village to begin: with a lot of work.

When we arrived last night, we discovered that Babcia had taken delivery of enough kindling for, as she explained, three or four years. And at least a quarter of it was lying in the road because the tractor that delivered it couldn't maneuver any closer. So we got to work segregating and hauling various pieces of wood from a woodworking shop, wood of so many sizes and shapes that it was almost overwhelming. This morning, we got to work cleaning up the final bits.

(Click on images for larger view.)

We all pitched in. E was in heaven, for he loves doing anything work related. L has always been less excited about work, but she helped like the rest of us with no fussing, no concerns but one: "What will Babcia the next time she gets wood and we're not here?" Growing up in more ways than one, that girl.

(Click on images for larger view.)

The trip to Zab itself was as it always is. We stop by the most beautiful cemetery in the world to clean up Babcia's mother's and father's grave and pay our respect, head to her sister's house for incredible cooking and even more amazing conversation, walk across the street to her brother's house for a second helping of everything, and end at Furmanowa, where one can undoubtedly find the best views in Poland.

(Click on images for larger view.)

There's nothing more to say because I've already said it several times over, and therein lies the perfection.

Nowy Targ Day

Wednesday 28 June 2017 | 0 Comments

Changes are everywhere in Poland. It's like not seeing your friend's child for two years and then being surprised at how much bigger she is (which is a common occurence during each visit here, for both us and our local friends).

Nowy Targ, for example, was not a city that would immediately come to mind as an answer to the question, "Where is the nearest nice park?" I went there a lot while I lived here, as it was the nearest city and another American lived there with whom I became good friends. If I wanted to get contact solution, I had to go to Nowy Targ. If I wanted to speak English without worrying about what vocabulary I was using, I had to go to Nowy Targ. If I wanted to watch a movie or eat in a restaurant, I had to go to Nowy Targ. If I wanted to commiserate with someone about this or that apparent Polish absurdity (I complained a lot in my twenties. I still do, but not nearly as much...), I had to go to Nowy Targ. But it was not a place that would make sense to say, "Hey, let's take the kids to that great park in Nowy Targ." And now it is.

A lovely park with pedal-cart rentals for the kids, nice benches for tired adults, workout-stations for more energetic adults, giant chess boards for chess lovers, shade, sunshine, flowers, trees -- just about everything a little park in a little city might need.

Later, talking to a friend, I mentioned that I don't remember it being there at all.

"That's because it wasn't, at least nothing worth mentioning." But thanks to some European Union funding (I'm guessing here, but it's a likely source), there's a nice park by the river just beside the ice rink in Nowy Targ. Who would have thought?

But even twenty years ago, Nowy Targ had the best ice cream on the planet. And they had a market square, but without the fountains for kids to play with and all the open spaces. Just a big parking lot, more or less. EU funding again? Most likely.

The main purpose of the NT trip was to see C, with whom I played more pool and watched more movies and chatted more hours than just about anyone in Poland -- certainly during the 1996-1999 stint.

But more on that later...

Overcoming

Monday 26 June 2017 | 2 Comments

"I did give up."

The Girl was upset with ourself for not having completed the line course she had begged -- absolutely begged -- to complete. The longest. The most challenging.

K tried to talk her out of it, and the whole time the Girl was on the course, she was like this:

Of course there was no real risk: tourists are secured at all times on a security line with not one but two safety ropes. Still, both the Girl and her mother were somewhat frightened by the whole thing. And then there was the exhaustion: K tried this course some years ago and was unable to complete it. Her arms and hands gave out. She was hesitant to continue after the first obstacle, but went on anyway. L had exactly the same experience. Then came an especially challenging rope section, and K's arms just gave out. But L kept on going, with much encouragement.

The last two obstacles seemed hardly to be obstacles to me: two long zip lines. And it was there that the Girl just gave out.

Afterward, the conversation: I tried to express how proud I was of her, how proud she should be of herself, that she completed so much of the course.

"You wanted to stop, but you didn't. You kept going, when you were tired, when you were scared. You didn't give up."

"I did give up."

Can you give up and not give up at the same time? I think so.

Somehow the Girl exposed a truth about giving up and going on. It's a step-by-step basis. It's a step-by-step battle. And every step that overcomes fear or exhaustion is itself a victory.

The Boy had his own adventures.

Playing Wojna with Babcia

Saturday 24 June 2017 | 0 Comments

The Day After

Friday 23 June 2017 | 0 Comments

A typical day in the country can be positively relaxing after such a fast-paced trip. The morning might include a store or two, and everything always seems to orbit the kitchen.

There's a lot of snacking, of course, because there's always something to eat, something tempting like fresh cherries and strawberries or miodownik.

By lunchtime, I'd only made it to 1,300 steps, which was about the same number I took every morning to walk to our beloved bakery in Warsaw for breakfast pastries.

After lunch, the Boy went out to help Babcia around the yard with a bit of digging, a bit of sawing. He dug a big hole at the end of Babcia's flower bed and explained, "When it rains, all the water will go there, and that will help the flowers. I don't know how, but it will."

Babcia got to chopping wood to start the evening's fire for hot water, I lugged about 150 kg of coal toward the same goal (though my coal was for several days or even weeks of water), and the Boy continued digging.

And where was the Girl? She'd gone to reunite with a friend from two years ago. This upset the Boy, but he refused to go when Babcia had taken L for the the visit despite the fact that there would be a boy his age there. He's always been a little shy at first, and we might have to wait a week or two before he's willing to go play with strangers. Or maybe not: he's always doing something unexpected, socially speaking.

When it was time to retrieve the Girl, we all headed out for a walk. The Girl, it turned out, wasn't there. "They've gone out for a bike ride," the big sister told us.

We headed out without her, only to meet her returning.

"Where are you girls going?"

"To Babcia's, to make slime." We brought Elmer's glue just for that aim. Like fidget spinners, it's the rage among L's friends. "Here too," A told us when she visited us our first night in Warsaw. And there's a small change: things happen here and there at the same time. It used to be that it took some time for a fad to cross the ocean, but the internet has shrunk the world.