A Brave New World

As Weather.com predicted, Warsaw greeted me cold and rainy. Our family friends, Jurek and Basia, live in the outskirts of town, so I am staying with them for my first few days, along with my mom and my stepfather, who have already been in town for weeks for their son Jacub's wedding. Day one consisted of a long nap, leisurely meals of freshly-made pierogi and ham (what else), playing cards and watching polish Shrek 2.

On day two it was decided that I was going to explore Warsaw on my own. The plan was that Jurek would drive me to Jacub and his new wife's apartment in Warsaw and then I would take public transportation into Stare Miasto, the Old Town.

Preparing for my journey was like planning for the Battle of Iwo Jima. Maps were unfolded. Reading glasses taken out. Strategies debated. Pens were drawn.

Basia decided that the best way for me to go was the tram. In rapid-fire Polish, she told me everything there was to know about the Polish tram system. I was to take the tram near Jacub's apartment, stamp my ticket and then ride for 30 minutes until the tram went under the tunnel. This was told to me again in English by my mom and everything was repeated several times in both languages. I was given a list of every tram and bus that would take me back to Jacub's apartment. "Don't worry about me," I said, "I live in New York City. I get trains."

I was handed a cell phone with no less than four numbers of people to contact in case of an emergency. I had to practice using the phone in front of everyone to show them I could find the numbers of the four people. My mother stuffed 250 zloty in my hand (close to $100 cash).

"I don't know what you are going to do if you need more money," she fretted. What was she thinking I was going to do for four hours? Or for the rest of this trip, for that matter?

Jurek and I drove to the apartment and met Jacub, who then took out his own map.

"I think you should take the bus." He took out markers and started to color-code my route: the bus ride in blue, attractions in green. Everything was explained again. Routes were debated. I was given a second list of tram and bus numbers.

I went to the bathroom and I am not sure what happened, but there must have been some serious deliberation between father and son.

"You're taking the tram," Jacub told me, defeated. I took his colorful map just in case.

As Jurek and I walked to the tram station, he asked, "where is your money? your passport?"

"My book bag." Not a good answer. I tried to explain again that I lived in New York City and that I knew about pickpockets and crazy people and I would be careful. Jurek looked unconvinced.

"Maybe you should wear it so the bag is in the front." I nodded absentmindedly.

When the tram neared the station, I was eager to run along on my way, and so I reached out to hug Jurek good-bye.

"Wait," he said, and knocked on the door of the tram driver. Then he said something to the driver in Polish to the effect of "this girl…something, something…no idea what she's doing…something, something…stop after the tunnel." Suddenly the big hotshot city girl in me felt like nothing more than a mortified TOURIST. Everyone stared at me while I stepped on the tram and slinked into my seat.

"Sit in the front seat," Jurek yelled, "so the driver can see you." The door closed. I didn't move my seat.

I made it to Stare Miasto. It was impossible not to. The scenery for the entire ride was filled drab, communist-style grey and beige buildings and all of a sudden the Technicolor Old Town showed up like I was in The Wizard of Oz. There was also that sign on the road with the big arrow that said Stare Miasto.

And when I was finished walking around, I called Jacub.

"Take the bus back," he said.

And so I did, following the blue line the whole way. I made it okay, of course, my big city confidence returning back to me. I spent 33 zloty for the day and pocketed the rest.


Me and the tram.



Stare Miasto alleyway.



Monument to the Warsaw Uprising



Can't get better than this. My first dinner in Poland.