The end of the beginning

Do widzenia! Thanks for reading--see you in Seattle!

to summarize

My aunt Romana gave me this book. It's a 1985 version of an out-of print Polish classic. Written in Polish, it's an outline of all the classic dishes my grandmother taught me to make, and some new ones I want to try.
From the one word I remembered in Antarctica I have been blessed to find family, rediscover my heritage, tread the ground my grandfather left behind for his new life in America. I have been blessed to be able to learn enough of the ferociously difficult Polish language to make the use of this book feasible. Thanks to everyone who helped make this possible, especially Wayne and my children who provided the encouragement I needed to travel halfway around the world by myself to learn something new, and by doing so to learn something about myself.

Plac Burekow (the Burek place) part 2

The original home from which Mateusz left has been replaced, but the outbuildings were probably there when he emigrated to America. The ladies in the picture are also Burek relatives with different surnames. We're standing in the place where our grandfather stood as he left Poland. There is another Burek family member who emigrated to South Africa, here but not pictured. This was an emotional moment as you might imagine. Everywhere we went, we were treated with overwhelming hospitality and kindness, even in this quixotic venture. This is a true Polish home.

Baptism font, Zegocina

The parishes of Lakta Dolna, Lakta Gora and Zegocina were served by the same church at the time my grandfather left Poland. The church was destroyed by the Nazis and is under reconstruction, but a few things were salvaged and are placed in the new church. This font is from the old church and was used in my grandfather's baptism. For my sisters, the church looks and feels like the old St Ann's--benches in the front for the kids and eerily similar statues. The small graveyard outside is full of Austro-hungarian war veterans. We press on.

the Burekow (the Burke Place), part 1

This is a picture of Barbara's dad, and he is my dad's second cousin. He's a positively lovely man, chair of the Bochnia Society, quiet, and highly intelligent. He has my father's shy half-smile and there are times he has a distinct resemblance to my dad.
The Burek clan had done research on the family genealogy and had given the results to Eugene, but those results had not been passed on. We have, however a chance to see the family homestead in the village of Lakta Dolna, a few KM south of Bochnia. Other family members are waiting. Off we go!

Eugene

Eugene Ryncarz is a cousin by marriage, and my first Polish teacher. A somewhat mysterious figure from my childhood, I have discovered that he did escape from a Nazi slave labor camp, he fought through Italy with the British Eighth Army and was prevented from returning to Poland until the fall of Communism due to a Stalinist purge. He is 85 and has lost sight in one eye and most of his hearing. Unfortunately age has taken its toll and he does not remember me as a student, nor does he remember much of interest from his time in the United States. I hope that the rest of the visit is more pleasant. Tomorrow, the Burek family.

Homeward bound

It was a blistering hot Saturday when we loaded ourselves onto a minibus with no opening windows and no air conditioning to drive to Bochnia and a visit with the Burek family. There were 27 of us and 20 seats, and it was a hot, hour-long ride. Barbara refers to this as a "slice of Polish life." I will meet my Polish family disguised as a sweathog.