Wow, I can't believe it's been a whole week since I have posted. I don't know where my time goes . . . It seems like I am always writing blogs in my head, but I never get around to actually putting them online.
As usual, I've got lots to report. In the past week I hosted my first Polish party - vodka, pickles and all, had my first encounter with the Polish medical system, finally rode my bike, and went on an 8 hour hike in the Tatra mountains.
I also found time to work, pick up my Polish PESL number (I am not actually sure what it is, but apparently it is important), buy a DVD player (which isn't compatible with any DVDs I currently own), and work some more.
I'll tell you more, particualarly about my trip to the Tatras, but it's late in Poland now, and I should really start getting ready to go to bed.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Sunday, June 17, 2007
A near perfect day
I just woke up from an early evening nap, after a fresh-air filled early summer day, and am feeling fuzzy but very content.
My Polish friends took me on an excursion out of the city again today (the third they have treated me to in the past two weeks), to the nearby towns of Wadowice and Kalwaria Zebrzydowska.
Wadowice is the birthplace of Pope John Paul II, and is a pretty enough place, but filled with pilgrims. We stopped in Wadowice only long enough to admire the square, see the baroque church the Pope was christened in, and eat the pope's favourite cream cake, kreemowka.
We then drove to Kalwaria Zebrzydowska, which I thought was just a monastery. It took me a while to understand that it is a series of 40 chapels scattered throughout the surrounding countryside and has something to do with the stations of the cross.
Regardless of its religious significance, it was the setting for a perfect walk in the country. After visiting the main Baroque monastery church (from 1702), we started walking up a fairly steep hill into the forest. I thought we were just going to the top of the hill to see another church, so was surprised to see a series of small chapels nestled in amongst the trees. The chapels varied in size and style, but were all built between 1600 and 1632. I am glad I didn't really know what we were going to see, as each time I saw another chapel it was like finding another Easter egg in the hunt.
As we continued walking, we left the forest and walked through fields. We stopped to buy freshly picked cherries from an 81 year old woman, who had just picked the cherries herself. A few minutes later we sat in the grass under a tree and ate them, seeing who could spit the pits the farthest, and laughing at 11 month old Julia enjoying her first taste of cherries.
We then wandered by three sheep, who made me laugh with each baa they uttered. Their bleating really did sound like BAAAAAAA, but they had such dramatically deep voices that I couldn't help but giggle.
As we continued on the route, we encountered several groups of pilgrims, who sang as they walked. Magda told me they were singing hymns, but all sad ones in accordance with the stations of the cross. However, to me, they sounded quite joyful and it was lovely to hear the music periodically throughout our journey.
At one point Magda suggested we gather some of the wildflowers that were growing along a wheat field we were passing through. So the two of us started picking chamomile (I thought they were daisies), some pretty blue flowers, and stocks of wheat that had strayed onto the path.
I never really thought about the Polish countryside before moving here. It's unexpectedly lush and green, and deeply forested in many places. The areas near Krakow are full of rolling hills, dotted with red roofed houses, and like Krakow itself is, to me anyway, incredibly picturesque. The views from the monastery on the hill, and through the wheat fields were so lovely, that I was continually exclaiming aloud.
I never think of myself as a country girl (and I highly doubt any of you do either), but today will stay with me as one of my favourite memories, along with other walks in the country in the Cotswalds, the Lake District, the Scottish highlands, Austria and Tuscany.
My Polish friends took me on an excursion out of the city again today (the third they have treated me to in the past two weeks), to the nearby towns of Wadowice and Kalwaria Zebrzydowska.
Wadowice is the birthplace of Pope John Paul II, and is a pretty enough place, but filled with pilgrims. We stopped in Wadowice only long enough to admire the square, see the baroque church the Pope was christened in, and eat the pope's favourite cream cake, kreemowka.We then drove to Kalwaria Zebrzydowska, which I thought was just a monastery. It took me a while to understand that it is a series of 40 chapels scattered throughout the surrounding countryside and has something to do with the stations of the cross.
Regardless of its religious significance, it was the setting for a perfect walk in the country. After visiting the main Baroque monastery church (from 1702), we started walking up a fairly steep hill into the forest. I thought we were just going to the top of the hill to see another church, so was surprised to see a series of small chapels nestled in amongst the trees. The chapels varied in size and style, but were all built between 1600 and 1632. I am glad I didn't really know what we were going to see, as each time I saw another chapel it was like finding another Easter egg in the hunt. 
As we continued walking, we left the forest and walked through fields. We stopped to buy freshly picked cherries from an 81 year old woman, who had just picked the cherries herself. A few minutes later we sat in the grass under a tree and ate them, seeing who could spit the pits the farthest, and laughing at 11 month old Julia enjoying her first taste of cherries.
We then wandered by three sheep, who made me laugh with each baa they uttered. Their bleating really did sound like BAAAAAAA, but they had such dramatically deep voices that I couldn't help but giggle.
As we continued on the route, we encountered several groups of pilgrims, who sang as they walked. Magda told me they were singing hymns, but all sad ones in accordance with the stations of the cross. However, to me, they sounded quite joyful and it was lovely to hear the music periodically throughout our journey. At one point Magda suggested we gather some of the wildflowers that were growing along a wheat field we were passing through. So the two of us started picking chamomile (I thought they were daisies), some pretty blue flowers, and stocks of wheat that had strayed onto the path.
I never really thought about the Polish countryside before moving here. It's unexpectedly lush and green, and deeply forested in many places. The areas near Krakow are full of rolling hills, dotted with red roofed houses, and like Krakow itself is, to me anyway, incredibly picturesque. The views from the monastery on the hill, and through the wheat fields were so lovely, that I was continually exclaiming aloud.
I never think of myself as a country girl (and I highly doubt any of you do either), but today will stay with me as one of my favourite memories, along with other walks in the country in the Cotswalds, the Lake District, the Scottish highlands, Austria and Tuscany.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Friday nights
I have rarely been lonely or homesick since I arrived in Krakow seven weeks ago. But when I am, it's usually on a Friday night.
Friday nights seem to have a special buzz everywhere, and Krakow is no exception. People leave work a bit earlier than normal, ready to start their weekends. Everywhere you go, people are in couples or in groups, and the air is festive and electric. When you are alone, it seems like other people are having a particularly good time.
I knew before I left that Friday nights would be the hardest for me. In Toronto I often met friends for dinner or a movie after work Fridays, celebrating the end of the work week. Fridays were never really planned (like a Saturday night event often was), but were just casual get togethers, low-key and spontaneous.
But even at home, Friday nights were the nights I would feel sorry for myself for being single. I once remember someone telling me that one of the best things about being married was always having someone to go to a movie with - perhaps he was thinking of Friday nights.
When I was worrying about my move to Krakow before I left Canada, I told myself it was only 104 Friday nights. And somehow that seemed like a manageable number.
And now it's Saturday morning (disregard the date on this post - I think it's on California time), all is well again.
Friday nights seem to have a special buzz everywhere, and Krakow is no exception. People leave work a bit earlier than normal, ready to start their weekends. Everywhere you go, people are in couples or in groups, and the air is festive and electric. When you are alone, it seems like other people are having a particularly good time.
I knew before I left that Friday nights would be the hardest for me. In Toronto I often met friends for dinner or a movie after work Fridays, celebrating the end of the work week. Fridays were never really planned (like a Saturday night event often was), but were just casual get togethers, low-key and spontaneous.
But even at home, Friday nights were the nights I would feel sorry for myself for being single. I once remember someone telling me that one of the best things about being married was always having someone to go to a movie with - perhaps he was thinking of Friday nights.
When I was worrying about my move to Krakow before I left Canada, I told myself it was only 104 Friday nights. And somehow that seemed like a manageable number.
And now it's Saturday morning (disregard the date on this post - I think it's on California time), all is well again.
Those crafty Swedes
I was at Ikea again Thursday night, buying more glasses and dishes for a small party I am having tonight, when I was excited to find pet supplies. There are several pet shops in Krakow, but the cat toys tend to be wind up mice and of the hard variety. My cats, particularly Small, love to carry their toys around with them, and then rest their chins on them.
Ikea (pronounced eee-kay-uh here) had several soft cat toys in stock, along with crazy things like cat tents, and cat loungers, which I did not purchase (although I was tempted). They even have litter boxes in a lovely shade of green!
I didn't realize until I got home that the toys actually had catnip in them. Flannery and Small spent the rest of the evening in a blissed out trance, rubbing the toys over their faces and then cuddled protectively around them.
Small is happy that she can cart toys around again. She just walked by meowing proudly to show me her toy.
Ikea (pronounced eee-kay-uh here) had several soft cat toys in stock, along with crazy things like cat tents, and cat loungers, which I did not purchase (although I was tempted). They even have litter boxes in a lovely shade of green!
I didn't realize until I got home that the toys actually had catnip in them. Flannery and Small spent the rest of the evening in a blissed out trance, rubbing the toys over their faces and then cuddled protectively around them.
Small is happy that she can cart toys around again. She just walked by meowing proudly to show me her toy.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Pizza delivery
Walking home from basketball Tuesday night, my colleague and I were stopped by a young guy on a bike carrying a huge bag on his back.
When I asked what it was, he answered pizza.
Since then I have seen 3 or 4 guys riding bikes and carrying pizza bags on their backs. I wonder if they deliver this way in the winter.
When I asked what it was, he answered pizza.
Since then I have seen 3 or 4 guys riding bikes and carrying pizza bags on their backs. I wonder if they deliver this way in the winter.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Stuff I like
I found this little courtyard off one of the main streets in the Old town. It's part of one of the university colleges.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, one of the things I love most about Krakow is the juxtaposition of old and new. The college is probably five or six hundred years old, while the sculpture is modern.
Although Krakow has strict building codes (nothing here is built more than 5 or 6 stories high, less in the center) and heritage regulations (the building I live in must adhere to them), the modern exists easily alongside the medieval.
Where have all the recycling bins gone?
Recycling is not hugely popular in Krakow. When I first moved in, I asked my agent about it, and she explained that there is no recycling pick up in Krakow.
Instead, you can bring your recyclables to large bins located strategically around the city. I noticed that there were several at the end of my street (for glass, plastic, carboard, almost everything I could recycle in Toronto, except for the compostable stuff).
So, I have been saving my recyclables in my laundry room and take them down the street on an infrequent/irregular basis.
The pile has been growing rather alarmingly, so I decided I needed to take it out. Fortunately, I didn't haul it all down the street (laziness has its rewards some days), because I realized on Friday night that the recycling bins have all been removed, at least from the end of my street.
I think it must have something to do with the new park and statue that appeared nearby a few weeks ago. The statue is a replica of one that was destroyed in the war, and was officially unveiled last week during the festival.
I guess recycling bins were found to be too unsightly for the official ceremony.
Now I am wondering if they will come back.
Instead, you can bring your recyclables to large bins located strategically around the city. I noticed that there were several at the end of my street (for glass, plastic, carboard, almost everything I could recycle in Toronto, except for the compostable stuff).
So, I have been saving my recyclables in my laundry room and take them down the street on an infrequent/irregular basis.
The pile has been growing rather alarmingly, so I decided I needed to take it out. Fortunately, I didn't haul it all down the street (laziness has its rewards some days), because I realized on Friday night that the recycling bins have all been removed, at least from the end of my street.
I think it must have something to do with the new park and statue that appeared nearby a few weeks ago. The statue is a replica of one that was destroyed in the war, and was officially unveiled last week during the festival. I guess recycling bins were found to be too unsightly for the official ceremony.
Now I am wondering if they will come back.
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