Reminiscences from Poland

It began with so much angst, and then developed into the most heartwarming experience.  Come with me to Poland?

My 12th floor hotel room in Warsaw was wonderfully luxurious but I slept fitfully, with one eye on the clock, as you do when needing to rise early and excited for the journey.  Tiny beads of red tail lights trailed into the distance until a hazy dawn crept through my window.  Patches of mist nudged the buildings as I gazed down on the city in all its immensity.  I made coffee and the mournful tones of Leonard Cohen filled the room as I showered and gathered together my belongings.  Downstairs in reception a smiling face awaited.  Meg, promptly at 7, to deliver me safely to my coach station, Zachodnie.

Down into the subway we went, that subterranean city maze that bewilders me so, but with Meg by my side it didn’t seem so bad.  The ticket lady understood me, and sunlight beamed down on the tracks at Sródmiescie.  Two stops later we sat side by side on a bench, speculating on which coach it might be.  Trying to cram a world of emotions into dying minutes.  Those hugs may have to last us a long time…..

On the bus my neighbour is an elderly Polish lady, who tells me in minute detail about her health and her family.  No matter that I can only translate one word in ten.  I nod and shake my head vigorously, and attempt a brief family history, and moments later she is fishing in her capacious handbag to pull out a blue and white plastic bracelet with a St. Christopher attached.  She presses it upon me.  Apparently it will bring me good fortune, but I must look very needy, because immediately she’s back in the bag pulling out a red and white necklace and crucifix too.  I am mildly alarmed, wondering if I should offer money or will I give offence and destroy our budding friendship?  I risk all and she merely shakes her head.  We ride in companionable silence but I am shamefully relieved when she gets off at the first stop….

Two hours later the bus stops on the outskirts of  Bełchatów, and lots of passengers climb aboard.  An imperious looking lady demands to know where I am getting off and I mumble ‘na centrum’.  With a toss of her head she declines to sit next to me and moves on down the bus.  She thinks I’m stupid because the bus isn’t going to the centre.  I only realise this when a voice from the back of the bus penetrates my consciousness… ‘Johanna!  Johanna!’  It is Andrzej, my cousin Jadwiga’s husband, waving his arms frantically.  Sent to collect me from the stop, he has had to board the bus to attract my attention.  I have arrived….

The animal pens at the nearby park
Jadzia loves the horses
And her garden
Andrzej prefers his bike
Nadia, with ‘no pedal’ bike
Mum assists
And Nadia looks beautiful anywhere
At home with the ducklings

Things I can do without language…. almost.  Sit on the floor and piece together a Snow White jigsaw with a 2 year old.  Blow bubbles.  Not so successful with the king-sized version- much twirling and blowing, to no avail, but producing gales of laughter from 2 small girls, so a result in entertainment terms.  Bounce on a trampoline.  Peel potatoes.  Eat strawberries and icecream with Marysia and Pawel.  Take a walk around the neighbourhood.  But the biggest success?  Play dominoes with my Uncle Jakub, rolling back the years to when he and Dad played for many an hour.  He won, of course!  And kiss and cuddle my beloved Aunt Lusia….

Memories….  Andrzej, retired now, with time to ride on his motorbike, feed the rapidly growing ducklings with his granddaughters, and attempt to learn English on his Ipad with Duolingo.  Much scratching of head.  Silly English language!

His wife, lovely Jadzia, drives the bus for the local school for handicapped children.  On an event day in a nearby park, the children flock round her, eager to introduce themselves and curious about her company.  They dance with no inhibitions, inside a tent, and drive buggies, under casual supervision.  Blond and beautiful, Nadia attracts much attention.  Her mind is firmly on candyfloss.  ‘Zielony, prosze’ she insists.  Green….

Cousin Ewa, quietly but proudly showing me the shell of her home, with its rudimentary furnishings.  Her husband Henryk was building it for them when he died 3 years ago, and there is no money to finish it off.  The hardware business she was running has failed and she has moved in to the house to save rent.  ‘At least I am close to family.’ We sit by the open fire in the garden, bottles of beer in hand, turning the kielbasa on the homemade barbecue as evening fades.  Squeals as cousin Marysia plays hide and seek with the children.  And then peace….

The neighbourhood….

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Cathy is throwing out challenges left and right over at Wander.essence.  I thought I would enter this for Prose.  Part 2 will follow next week.

 

115 comments

  1. I am chuckling picturing you sitting on the bus with your cousin’s husband frantically waving to alert you to the fact that you have arrived! My travelling companions & I have found ourselves in a couple of comical situations when we mistakenly did not get off where we were supposed to.

    Sounds like you had a wonderful visit with family. I have found that in spite of language differences, with a lot of hand signals, a warm smile & the odd hug thrown into the mix, we can surprisingly get by on very little language exchange.

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  3. That sounds like quite an adventure. I once took the wrong bus, in the wrong direction, many years ago in Hawaii. I did not have the language barrier as an excuse. Turned into a scenic tour. Eventually made it to the destination.

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  4. I sense you’re the sort of person who makes friends wherever you go, so no doubt your bus companion was expressing friendship by making these very personal gifts. A lovely piece of prose writing, Jo.

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    1. Thanks, Mari. 🙂 I don’t know that that’s always the case. I can put backs up and put my foot in it with the best, but I am a friendly soul in the main. Life’s too short for anything else, isn’t it? 🙂

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    1. She meant so well, Tina. Why is it that we feel suspicious? I felt very mean afterwards but it made a great story. Thanks so much for your kind words xx

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  11. Oh, Jo, you have really captured so much in this beautiful piece. I love all the details you’ve written about your encounters, the people and the settings; you’ve word-painted a picture of the confusion in urban Poland and the simple pleasures in rural Poland. I love the story about the elderly Polish lady on the bus who talks your ear off and you can only understand about 1 in 10 words! You’re lucky you could understand that much. I recognize that situation from so many of my stints abroad! I love the list of all the things you can do without words (I might have to steal that idea sometime!). And the story of your cousin Ewa is heartwarming and tinged with sadness mingled with contentment. A wonderful piece! Thanks for sharing this. 🙂

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    1. I’m so glad you like it Cathy. It’s one thing showering the world with photos but I’m always nervous of the verdict when it comes to writing. It matters more, I guess. The world is full of characters, isn’t it? Thanks again xx

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      1. I agree, Jo. When you write, you’re putting more of yourself out there, so of course you’d be nervous. It’s hard to be brave about it, but you have talent, so you should never be shy. You have a wonderful way with words and are so observant of the perfect details. Go forth confidently, I say!

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  13. Oh Jo, I love this. You are so good at giving us the feeling and the mood of your visit – and the beauty of it all. Such lovely memories and beautiful landscape. How lovely relatives and – I find a tear or two in my eyes. Thank you for transmitting the love of it all! ♥

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    1. It is quite amazing to me to be part of a family like this, hon. My own aren’t close nor my husband’s. I just hope I don’t upset anybody in the telling. Thanks darlin xx

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  14. Very enjoyable – both the writing and the photos. Cathy is making us travel bloggers think. I had to giggle at the lady on the bus giving you all that stuff! I used to get people telling me their life story (and illnesses or illnesses of relatives they had been visiting) on the bus in Sheffield which passed the hospital. For years I listened to personal woes. We must have ‘that sort of face’ that people open up to. I always like your Poland tales, it is when you ARE more personal with your writing and I don’t think that is a bad thing.

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  17. This is pure delight Jo you have captured the feeling and emotions of your journey and introducing us to your lovely rellies. Were you on your own? The photos show a rustic and beautiful place I would love to visit, but thank you for taking us on this journey with you. I’m looking forward to part 2

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    1. Yes, I traveled alone, Pauline, apart from the brief time I spent with Meg and Gilly. It was a bit nerve-wracking but thankfully the family collected me and all went beautifully from there. Thanks so much, hon. 🙂 🙂

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      2. My steadying influence? 🙂 🙂 Yes, and no. I didn’t have to worry whether he was enjoying himself or bored, which is sometimes the case there. He likes to have something to do. I was lucky- the travel went better than I had expected.

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  18. Pingback: Reminiscences from Poland — restlessjo | O LADO ESCURO DA LUA

  19. Sounds delightfully relaxing Jo. Loved the personal glimpses and you wove your journey beautifully. Thanks for taking me along for the ride. xo

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