"It's so much nicer here in the summer..."

Tomek, in cap, in Sopot.

The insanity continues...

Yoki slept me with again. He was escorted out of my bed several times by his owners but always managed to come back. He doesn't love me. He loves my bed.

This morning, Hania created an elaborate Polish breakfast just for me: an entire plateful of Polish Ham, three fresh croissants, a plate of rolls, a plate of deviled eggs, each with a spoonful of mayonaise on top, some kind of mayonaise salad, tomatos with onions, pickles, yogurt...it goes on and on.

I eat and I realize she is just watching me.

"You're not eating?" I asked her. She showed me an empty carton of yogurt.

"I ate already," she said. And I am expected to eat all this? I was already full from last night. I did the best I could and felt my stomach grow some more.

Hania's breakfast.

My breakfast.

I was waiting for Tomek and Ala to pick me up for our trip to Gdansk today.

"Do you want me to make for you a sandwich for the road?" Hania asked.

"Sure," I said. All Polish people make ham sandwiches for the road. (Even my mom does at home). I have noticed that sometimes they make two, in case you are facing death by starvation or something like that. But I was really unprepared for the snack Hania gave me. It was about six sandwiches, a bunch of apples, a big bottle of water and four cartons of yogurt (I made the mistake of mentioning that I like the yogurt here, so they have been force-feeding it to me. Only I don't have the heart to tell them that I like yogurt with museli--not just out of the carton--because that would require another unneccessary trip to the store to get cereal when they definitely do not need more food!). The snack could barely fit in a shopping bag.

"That is all for me?" I squeaked.

"And for Tomek and Ala," she said. But of course they made their own ham sandwiches for the road. The amount of ham sandwiches we had in our car trunk for three people was just plain insanity.

Tomek and Ala drove me three hours to Gdansk. Everytime I sit in their car, I fall asleep like a baby. I slept the whole way. They must think I am a very tired person. I fell asleep when we drove to Torun a few days ago, too. It is very strange since I cannot communicate well with them so I wonder what their perception of me must be. Do they think I am boring? Because I feel boring. I say the same things over and over because those are the words I know how to say. And sometimes if I cannot find the right word, I have to improvise and offer a half-truth, which is not as interesting as the full-truth.

This evening, for example, we are staying with Ala's sister-in-law, and she asked me why I did not go to Italy on this trip. I tried to explain that I did not want to do Western Europe on this trip and want to explore Italy at a different time, but when that proved too difficult to explain, I just told her I have been there before, which is completely true, but not what I wanted to communicate at all.

Other times I tell a joke and it just falls flat on its face. They do not understand or they think I am talking about something else and answer a completely different way. The conversation shifts in a way I did not intend it to. Usually I just go with it.

No matter where I have gone since the last week of October (Austria, Germany, Netherlands, etc), people have been telling me "It's so much nicer here in the summer. You should come in the summer." I cannot tell you how sick I am to hear this phrase. Because I am here now, and I don't care about how it is in the summer. And most of the time, I can say, yeah, this place is probably nice in the summer, but I still like it now. If the city is interesting enough, it withstands the weather.

My Polish family tells me this phrase "It's so much nicer here in the summer" about five times a day, and I try not to show my annoyance (because I can't really explain to them in Polish why this phrase annoys me) and so through clenched teeth, I politely say, "Yes, I know." I noticed that when I go sight-seeing with my family, whether it is Wojtek in Torun or Tomek and Ala in Gdansk, we just walk around and they do not have much to say about the place. Sometimes they point out a sight, and tell me the name, but they don't really try to explain so much in Polish. Instead, once in a while they ask, "Do you like it here?" And I say, "Yes, I like it." And then they shrug their shoulders and say, "It's so much nicer here in the summer," going on to talk about the nice weather and all the people and the cafes on the street and everything that is not there now.

I have to admit that here they are right. Gdansk, Sopot and Gdynia, the places we visited today, probably are much nicer in the summer. But these are towns by the sea, and so you lose something when it becomes cold. Walking along the beach, looking at boats, seeing the water, doesn't feel so special when you are freezing your ass off. However, despite this fact, I did like the towns very much and if I were to come to Poland again (in the summer, of course) I would like to go to these destinations and see for myself.

At breakfast this morning, Hania asked me, "When are you coming back?"

I haven't even left yet. People! I know it's cold! Let me enjoy it while I am here!

Ala and me.


Houses in Gdansk.

There was someone in my bed last night.

Yoki.

Considering the fact that Yoki the dog barked at me every time I moved an inch yesterday, it was strange to find that he slept in my bed the entire evening. I was sleeping in my hosts' Wojtek and Hania's bed, and that is Yoki's bed, too. I guess the dog cares more about the bed than who is sleeping in it. With my nerves, he was actually a great comfort. Even though he woke me up at 6 am from the slurping sounds of him licking his paws over and over.

I did not really realize that I was sleeping in their bed until they told me. I have finally found an apartment in Europe that is smaller than mine. Hania and Wojtek usually sleep in the fold-out bed in the living room. Their teenage son sleeps in the bedroom. They played musical beds last night to accommodate me. I think Hania slept in the kitchen, the poor woman. Polish hospitality has no end.

Today Wojtek took me on a tour of Torun, which basically consisted of walking around the city rather briskly for a few hours. We spoke little to each other, and I began to feel incredibly home sick. There was Polish Christmas music coming from one of the buildings and it just made me think about Christmas at home. I thought about Dan, my friends and family. I fretted about our apartment and my job.

It's strange. I am missing home, but home won't be the same when I get back.

Wojtek and me.

Torun's Town Hall.

The land of constant eating.

With the whole Ala situation, I was cool as a cucumber yesterday. But as soon as the lights went out and I was alone in my bed, I found myself confronted with anxiety. This happens to me sometimes, especially if something especially stressful happens to me. I feel very nervous as if I am about to give a presentation or something and I am hyper aware of the rhythm of my heartbeat. Irrational thoughts flood my brain. I know that it is just nervous energy manifesting in my body, and I calmed myself down with deep breaths until I fell asleep.

I woke up this morning to find that I was not the only one who was nervous. Tomek did not sleep all night. Even though I did not feel scared at the moment, the anxiety made me realize how the whole incident shook me up.

But as we were dealing with the aftershock, Ala said she felt like nothing happened and she said she was feeling just fine. Her daughter Luzia and her son Marciek came to visit. Six-year-old Marciek just wanted to watch cartoons, but he took a liking to me, and I enjoyed when he tried speaking to me and called me ciocia in such a serious voice.


Luzia, Marciek and me.

To give you an idea of how small a town Kikol is, where Tomek and Ala live, when Tomek, Luzia and I walked to the bus station (that is right, walked), they said hello to everyone who passed us by not because they were being nice, but because they knew everyone. I thought that was neat.

From there, I took the two hour trip to Bydgoszcz to visit Tomek's sister, Hania, her husband Wojtek and son Michal. Hania and Wojtek are the nicest people, and they are obsessed with their dog. This dog is king of the apartment and he knows it. He will not stop barking at me, but his owners ohh and ahh over every movement he makes.

I was not the least bit hungry when I arrived (Ala had packed me lunch for the bus), but I sat down for the obligatory big Polish lunch. There were only three people there, but there was enough food for ten, including chicken, pork, a multitude of salads and cake. I was requested to try everything at the table, sometimes twice. By the end of the meal, I had in front of me a water, a glass of wine, and a beer.

Every time Wojtek or Hania would address me, they would say my name. Wojtek, especially, started every sentence with, "Ivona, please tell me this one thing..." and he would ask a question like, "In New York City, what is the difference between uptown and downtown?" I would do my best to answer the questions in Polish. While most people praised my Polish, and these two did as well, sometimes Wojtek could not help but burst into laughter by my response. He spoke a little English himself and I told him that I would start laughing at him when he made a mistake. I didn't.

We looked through piles and piles of old family photographs, most of them Hania would flick aside and say, "I don't know who these people are..." I did collect a nice one of me, my grandma, my brother, my Uncle Kaz and Aunt Yvonne in front of my house in New Jersey. Then they gave me a book of Polish scenic pictures (these relatives keep giving me presents and I have no idea how I will carry them all home!)

Wojtek then took me on a tour of Bydgoszcz. There was not much to see, but it was okay. He lamented, as everyone else I have met has lamented in the last two months, "Why did you come now? Come in the summer! There is more to see." But with my nervous energy, the walk in the evening felt very nice, and then we stopped for drinks where he invited me to eat some more, but I just had a drink. I knew his wife was at home cooking up something and I was completely full already.

I asked him to explain Polish hospitality and why there is so much food.

"In Poland," he said, "the guest is everything. It's tradition. And I really like it." And when we went home to have supper, he purposely made me try every single thing at the table once again. Everything is special, he explained, from the special ham to the special egg salad to the special pickles. I think he was being funny. He has a good sense of humor.

They asked me how often I see my mom, and I said I visited her a lot, like once a month. They were shocked. Something I noticed about this family is that they talk to each other constantly. Hania and Tomek are on the phone every minute, and if they are not talking to each other, they are on Skype, speaking with Tomek's daughter in Canada or someone else. We even had our own little Skype session with Uncle Kaz and Chris in California. It made me wonder if I should be in better touch with my family.

With that thought, I go to sleep now, content but a little nervous still, and with a belly full of Polish food--and I am sure, more where that came from tomorrow.


Hania with her true love.


Wojtek and his son Michal.


Me with a statue in a Santa Hat, in Bydgoszcz.