Dziękuję Ci

Poland part I and trying to say thank you without sounding like Borat

Post sponsored by Google translate without which I would not have eaten for 10 days. Should have used it today when I accidentally walked into a men’s bathroom.

7/23/2021: Train from Gdańsk to Krakow

Poland was kind of a last minute destination to partially fill the month and a half before my Camino in Spain. Between Victoria, my current travel buddy, and I, Poland was the only place where Covid restrictions and budgets lined up. 

I can’t say I’ve ever wanted to travel to Poland or have even thought about it much. But when we compared notes on feasible locations, the (for lack of a better word) exotic destination was chosen out of convenience and, at least on my end, fascination.

Anyway, my July 19th departure snuck up on me in a lot of ways. I was leaving the comfort of Madrid, which is familiar to me thanks to local family and previous visits. I almost reluctantly got into my Uber to the airport, knowing that this Poland trip marked the beginning of (mostly) solo traveling, something I’m pretty scared to do.

Quick Victoria introduction: she’s one of my best friends from Harvard who graduated in the year above mine. She also inspired me to pursue a travelling fellowship with a religious theme. She too visited some convents throughout her year abroad and has been one of my only Catholic friends at Harvard. 

Aside from wanting to travel with Victoria because we’re friends, I was also excited to observe the way she books hostels, chooses trains, restaurants, any of that kind of stuff (wooooow fascinating?). But really, after a year abroad, she’s a pro at living on the fellowship budget and getting from point A to point B. I’m grateful that she’s concluding her fellowship with me as I begin mine… ah, how poetic. I guess I’ll have to carry on the torch. That is, if I can figure out how to book my next train (in Polish). 

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7/25/2021: Krakow Main Square

So Poland. I can’t say I had any super high expectations, mostly because I didn’t have any expectations.

Now that I’m here, I am pleasantly surprised. 

The landscape isn’t anything to marvel at — after taking a train from Gdańsk on the northern Baltic coast to Krakow in the south, I’ve learned that it all looks the same (farms).

But the cities are absolutely magical. 

Gdańsk looks like those streets in Disney…but better. It’s a splendid mismatch of four or five-story houses with different colorful facades. All the buildings narrow and adorned with intricate carvings, moldings, and gold-leaf.  

Most of the streets are cobblestone and often lined with tiny cafes and live musicians. There’s also a river walk full of restaurants and nightlife. 

Warsaw was less charming but more grand. I learned that after being totally destroyed in the war (and I mean totally — the pictures in the Warsaw Uprising museum were devastating), it was rebuilt as close to original as possible. It was a little spooky looking at these classical-looking buildings knowing that they were truly built in this century. Nevertheless, I was pleasantly surprised by the beautiful architecture, giant parks, and quaint plazas in Old Town. 

The best thing about Poland is the prices. On my first night in Warsaw, I ate duck, potato pancakes loaded with beef and gravy, and baked Camembert with jam. My bill came out to shy of $15. The next day, Prosecco and pierogis cost me five bucks. Groceries, souvenirs, and clothes are comparably cheap. I don’t feel like much of a backpacker in this country…let’s hope I don’t get used to the decadence. 

Buuuuuut, I do have to say that the food is also getting a little old. Poles have figured out how to eat dough in truly ever form: baked, boiled, steamed, fried, grilled, the list goes on. The next most common ingredients are potatoes and fermented cabbage.

I am actively craving fresh lettuce…yes, lettuce.

One more culinary observation: Polish people LOVE ice cream. And I mean love - they eat it for breakfast. I’ve seen families walking around with cones as early as 9 am. The other common 9 am treat? Beer.

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On this fellowship, I want to achieve a better understanding of servant leadership. How do I use my faith to live a secular life that benefits others? I didn’t expect it, but Poland has been an interesting lesson on how national security and government (my secular interest) interact directly with faith.

We visited the Warsaw Uprising museum which walks visitors through the events leading up to the Uprising and how it played out. Citizens of all kinds (men, women, children, Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, priests, nuns, etc.) worked together to fortify the city against the occupying Nazis. Another museums, the Solidarity Museum in Gdańsk, spoke to Lech Walesa’s peaceful movements to overthrow Soviet rule (if you haven’t learned about the Solidarność movement, you should check it out; it’s incredibly inspiring how a nation of oppressed workers could overthrow a government installed by a world power). A key aspect Solidarity was the encouragement of Pope John Paul II, the “Polish Pope,” who dared to make three pilgrimages to his homeland during Soviet rule.

Each museum, whether referring to the Cold War or World War II, mentioned the devotion and faith of the Polish people as they endured back to back German and Soviet occupations. Sometimes the museums didn’t even need to spell it out. In the Uprising museum for example, there was a Catholic chapel where Polish visitors sat to pray in front of icons salvaged from the destruction of Warsaw.

Today, this is a faith that endures among all Poles, young and old. They are fiercely proud of their country and their nation’s ability to withstand horror after horror. Instead of weakening their faith, churches are full basically everyday (and it’s not just old people).

There’s a striking sense of shared national morality and pride.

So I’m not really sure (yet) what this means in the context of my own servant leadership, but it is rather fortuitous that a last-minute travel destination has turned out feeling like a pilgrimage AND a lesson on national security/government history.

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P.S.

Upon curiously approaching something called the “Cool Club” in Gdańsk, a man informed me in a heavy Polish accent, “not for you gurls.” Confirming a suspicion I’ve had all of college, I finally learned that I am not cool. 

Turns out this is not the cool club for me. “Strip club…ze strip club!”

An hour later, I heard the first American voices in over a week and pounced. They ended up coming from two enlisted soldiers on an overseas assignment. They informed me that a common warning for tourists is to avoid strip clubs (Oh no! My plans are ruined!). 

“They charge you thousands even if you only bought a drink and beat you up otherwise.” One added, “hell I don’t want to wake up without my kidney.”

You know the drill, keep your kidneys. 

So thank you, man in the skin-tight Armani polo and pinstripe pants, for saving my money and my kidneys while only slightly hurting my pride.