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.

Patti really IN Poland

Wayne and Lorin finally arrived and Wayne caught me moving across the Rynek to start a class assignment, on a blisteringly hot day. It was a mock scavenger hunt to find locations in the Old City. Thanks to Barbara, I was able to find almost everything quickly. We retreated to the Art Bunker for more class and conversation. Tomorrow, off the grid to Bochnia.

dom, slodki dom

I took my first quiz this morning, so I have a moment between classes and trips to the Centrum to show you around the place where I store my laptop. Dom Studenckie Piast was built by the Communist government in the 1970's to house the maximum student population with the minimum level of frill. My room is about 8x10' and would normally house two students. The bath is shared with another identical room. As you can see, it is a standard that most Americans would not enjoy. When Wayne arrives he will have another guest room and hopefully, I can at least take showers there.
The food is Polish dorm food; veggies, ham, eggs and cheese for breakfast along with tea,warm milk, bad coffee and omnipresent bread rolls. Lunch (obiad) is the main meal of the day, served family style, and it always includes soup, bread, potatoes, some form of cabbage, small amounts of a vegetable and either a very starchy vegetable or fried meat option. Dinner, (kolacje) is the evening meal. Lighter, it has a starchy salad, and either warm ham or warm egg, another meat or starchy dish, and fruit.
I am meeting Barbara at 7:30 pm to have a light lovely supper in the town square, and discuss our weekend trip to the home village of Lakta Dolna with her dad and uncle, and a visit with Eugene. She is bringing me tomatoes from her home. Home-grown Polish tomatoes will be a treat without peer!

lotem ptaka po polsce

It's the title of an old book of Polish songs and stories from my first encounter with the Polish language almost 50 years ago. Today, I had a "birds eye view of Poland" with a cousin, Barbara Burek. I walked for 12 hours, beginning with a walking tour of the Old City, then to the Jewish Quarter where i piloted myself to our meeting place, then, wonders: magnificent cathedrals, crazy public spaces, wonderful food and a final chamber music concert in an 11th century church. Rare, fun, utterly fulfilling.

family, at last

One of the objectives of this trip was to find what remains of my Polish family. This is my second cousin Barbara. She was my guide to a fantastic day of sightseeing the old city of Krakow. We had great food, wonderful conversation and a delightful time.
A rare day, indeed.

citizen Erickson

After class today, I wandered back to the old City, found an academic bookstore, and registered for a pass to get around town. Few own cars; they are mostly small. Polish driving is wild and woolly. I feel safe on the tram and can get anywhere quickly.
I was able to get a photographer to take this picture, which is the best passport photo EVER, in Polish. Progress!

the modern school

This is where I take my classes, 5 hours a day, in Polish. I've been thrown into the deep end of the pool, with 6 other students from Croatia, Germany, Great Britain and America. We all have different strengths and weaknesses. I self-selected into a slightly less strenuous class than the one at the UW to get more practice speaking and listening to familiar material. Not quite as exciting, but it will provide a solid foundation for future progress.Those are bars, not shoji; the doors are metal and it's immaculate, but very functional. This part of the Jagiellonian is not as gorgeous as the medieval bit but it was built as a land-grant college and has some great Communist art, like the Lenin in Fremont but more basic, miners, woodsmen, amazingly kitschy stuff.
The rain has finally stopped and it's cooler and quite pleasant, good thing because the homework is strenuous, too.

the big show

One of the most beautiful medieval rooms I've ever seen, the paintings are of former Polish royalty extending charters to the University. Other folks adorn the walls; Jan Pawel II is there as well. A big speech, then off to the Centrum .
I've discovered that I cannot speak Polish. Folks are very nice about it; the tipoff is when litle old ladies say something like " I'm so sorry, I didn't realize that you were not Polish." meaning: you are unintelligible to them but they don't want to hurt your tender American feelings. Hopefully this will change; there are a lot of really expert speakers in the crowd, but the instruction is by ability, so there's hope.

home sweet...dom

Arrived after 23 hours in transit to a massive heat/humidity wave and a no-frill, no airconditioned college youth Hostel called Dom Studentkie Piast of the Jagiellonian University. there are about 500 people here from all over, mostly college students but some older people, too. we had Polish dorm cooking for dinner; quite good as the UJ has a Hotel Management school like WSU and the food was well done. The lack of coolness is jarring.
The college students are acting like students; drinking beer and yelling and slamming doors at odd hours. Youth is wasted on the young, now if I could only get a little sleep...first glimpse of Krakow and a test tomorrow.

sound and fury...

July 5, Frankfurt Airport:
This is more about the sound and scope of a really big international airport. I was lost many times trying to find where to recheck my big bag, or how to get to the gate for LOT Polish airlines.
Turns out there is no gate per se, just a place to board a bus and be driven to the far corner of the tarmac for our plane. There is no mention of Michael Jackson or Sarah Palin, and no real interest in things American except occasionally as objects of derision. The multitude of language and the squeeks and rumbles of modern commerce make me feel very small, and somehow comforted. There ARE corners of the planet that have NOT been spoil by Paris Hilton. I like travelling by myself.