Poland's Poland

2011-01-27T23:21:00.001-08:00

Estonia: A Move to the Euro, and Europe?

By Beatrice Walton — January 28, 2011 at 1:46 am

When I visited Estonia four weeks ago, I witnessed the bittersweet, albeit largely temperate, passing of the kroon, Estonia’s national currency since 1992. As I, and indeed most of the country, rushed to dump my krooni before Jan. 1^st and the euro arrived, I nevertheless held on to a two-krooni note—a relic, no doubt, of a time that once was.

After fifty years of Soviet rule, Estonia was the first former Soviet republic to ditch the ruble and adopt its own national currency. Now, eighteen and a half years later, Estonia is once again a forerunner in Eastern Europe—this time, as the first former Soviet republic to drop its own currency to join the euro zone.

Still, while this latest currency switch might deem Estonia more vigorous than its Eastern European counterparts, the subtle reality of the switch remains less encouraging. Indeed history, it seems, is repeating itself this January.

While Estonia quickly dropped the ruble in 1992 to assist the emergence of a national identity that it quite obviously lacked, today Estonia may be joining the euro zone for many similar social (in addition to the obvious economic) reasons— to once and for all solidify its identity and break from its century-old problems with the east.

To get at the center of what’s socially at stake in Estonia’s currency switch, one must first recall the history of this small Baltic country of 1.3 million people. And therein lies the problem: Estonia has only existed, in the formal sense of a state, between both World Wars and since 1991. Moreover, for centuries upon centuries, the area now called Estonia was ruled by Russia, Denmark, Sweden, Germany, or Poland—but always in a constant flux.

Really, Estonia has not always been Estonia.

And yet, even since 1991 Estonia has continually struggled to retain a constant citizenship. With ethnic Russians comprising one quarter of its population and with 30% of the population speaking Russian as a first language, the country has had problems requiring even its own government employees to speak the national language. As a result, Estonia has vamped up its National Language Inspectorate and has been testing government clerks, teachers, and even bus drivers in their Estonian language abilities. The testing has caused hardship particularly in places like Tallinn, the capital, where roughly 50% of schools teach in Russian and, consequently, a new government law now requires 60% of class time to be taught in Estonian.

Nevertheless, the switch to the Euro will no doubt bring about greater economic prospects for Estonia. The past few weeks have been marked by an absence of chaos (with McDonalds as the exceptional high profile price hike investigation)—a transition far better than was seen in Slovakia in 2009 or than most exports had expected.

Undeniably, the loudest of Estonia’s internal social controversies over issues like removing Soviet statues and other conflicts with ethnic Russians have also quieted lately. Yet still, I can’t help but wonder about the conclusion of a NY Times piece late last month covering the Estonia currency change that concluded with a quote from an Estonian citizen that read, “Now we are back in Europe.”

Indeed, whether or not that’s the reality of the Estonia that currently exists, or even the sentiment of the majority of the Estonians who live there, it’s what the powers to be in Estonia had hoped to convey to the world, and more pointedly, themselves:

Estonia is now Estonia.

Photo Credit: Wikimedia Commons

http://hpronline.org/uncategorized/estonia-a-move-to-the-euro-and-europe/#more-7527

Midterms

2010-11-06T16:17:00.000-07:00

http://hpronline.org/hprgument/no-we-can’t-searching-for-obama’s-audacity-in-the-post-midterm-world/

No We Can't? Searching for Obama's Audacity in the Post-midterm World

By Beatrice Walton

Immediately following the midterm elections, newspaper headlines from around the world told the tale of an American president embarrassingly “defeated” and “apologetic” of his presidency thus far.

From titles such as “No We Can’t” in the Kuwait Times to “Obama Admits He Needs ‘to Do a Better Job’ After Election Beating” in the London Guardian, to pouting faces of Obama on front pages from Brazil to China, the international media has cast Obama as a chastised president of remorseful policies.

Sadly, Obama sealed his own fate, particularly in the midterms, by allowing the media, Republicans, and even some Democrats, to spin his hard-fought achievements against him.

It’s a mystery to me how easily the country has rendered Obama, the most effective progressive since FDR who managed the largest economic disaster since the 1930s while passing healthcare reform, financial reform, winding down the war in Iraq, engaging with the Muslim World, significantly expanding Pell grants for low-income college students, appointing more openly gay officials than any other president, creating more private sector jobs than during entire Bush years, signing a new START Treaty with Russia, increasing fuel economy standards, and repealing restrictions on embryonic stem cell research, as a delinquent, incompetent president out of touch with America’s problems.

And yet, much of this portrayal I fault with Obama’s recent demeanor. Instead of touting his impressive record, Obama took a defeatist line after the midterms and promised that in the future he would simply try to “do a better job.”

Now that’s an Obama we haven’t seen before.
And yet unfortunately, it’s an Obama of whom we will probably see more and more. In his Op-Ed in the NY Times yesterday, Obama wrote about his upcoming trip to Asia that surprised me in one line. He wrote: “If we can, we’ll be able to complete an agreement that supports jobs and prosperity in America.”

If we can?

What happened to yes we can?

Obama needs to pull together in the wake of his party’s bloody midterm results to regain the confidence in his policies and penchant to radiate hope that propelled him to office in the first place.

Otherwise, Republicans and Democrats alike will simply be battling it out in Congress, conducting phony investigations, and bickering about power, while attempting to fix American problems, “if they can.”

Photo Credits: Newseum.org

Losing Poland, One Year later

2010-10-25T01:19:00.000-07:00

http://hpronline.org/hprgument/poland-disillusion-trumps-obamas-popularity/

Poland: Disillusion Trumps Obama’s Popularity

By Beatrice Walton

On my first night living in Poland last summer, I asked my host mother, a 44-year-old Polish elementary schoolteacher and mother of two, her opinions of President Barack Obaa as we sat in her rural farmhouse eating slabs of unidentifiable meat on rye bread. She gave me two responses, meaning, she pointed to the two words in my Larousse Polsko-Angielski dictionary that first came to mind:

Historia
Hipokryta

As I wrote at the time, I was certainly caught off guard.

Though first surprised that any European country might possibly have the gall to like Bush more than Obama, from then on, I took note of what I have since come to acknowledge as Poland’s widespread anti-Obama sentiment.

This September, the German Marshall Fund’s Transatlantic Trends report finally confirmed what I had come to believe over the past year: Poles, and indeed many other Eastern Europeans, are increasingly disillusioned with America.

In section six of the report entitled “Poland—An Outlier in the European Union,” the survey found that although Poland carried the highest popularity rating for Bush of any European country, in contrast, only 53% of Poles surveyed in 2010 approved of Obama’s handling of their country, the lowest of any European country surveyed. Similarly, 31% of Slovakians had an unfavorable view of the U.S., the highest in Europe.

While at first it is tempting to jump to say, “Well, clearly Poles are just missing the boat,” and cite Bush’s overwrought, hard-ball style stance on their issues as reason for their current sour feelings, it would be premature to do so. Instead, anti-Obama sentiments stem from a series of minor, yet significant, Polish grievances with the President.

In an open letter to the President in the summer of 2009, 22 intellects and former leaders from Eastern Europe presented their anxieties about being hung-out to dry by the U.S. at the hands of a revisionist Russia. Yet true to Eastern European fears, Obama scratched the Bush-designed missile shield slated for Poland in a bid to curry favor with the Kremlin, perhaps to gain Russia as an ally against the Iranian nuclear threat. Though a much smaller, modified military base has since been placed in northern Poland, Poles still envision America with its back turned on Eastern Europe. Against the will of the E.U., former Polish President Lech Kaczynski had gone out on a limb in favor of U.S. policies, such as the missile shield, and Obama had cut him down.

Similarly, many Poles express deep grievances over America’s visa requirements for them to travel to the U.S., with Poland as the only country in the Schengen Zone required to do so. Though over 2,500 Polish soldiers currently serve in Afghanistan, they and their families are not openly welcomed into the U.S.

In the wake of the tragic plane crash killing President Kaczynski and 10% of the Polish government, minor missteps have again hurt U.S. credibility in Poland. Canceling his agreement to attend the state funeral of the Polish President in Krakow due to Iceland’s volcanic eruption, President Obama proceeded to golf for the day instead—a story which has since become legendary throughout Poland. Again, hype ran rampant over Brazil’s announcement of three days of mourning for Poland’s tragedy, while the U.S., which contains 10 million Poles and whose president’s home city, Chicago, contains more Polish people than any city other than Warsaw, observed not one.

While it is fair to question whether the U.S. should bother to care about a small, largely homogenous, Eastern European country of 39 million people, truly the answer requires a broader knowledge of the region. Positioned in a complex area where countries sway to countervailing force—not the least of which is Moscow—Poland is that little country that wants so badly to be friends with the U.S., yet keeps getting shunned. By easily amending minor grievances, the U.S. can assure a valuable ally in a tense region, or through indifference, turn away an old friend (and its acquaintances) to the other side.

11 Months Later

2010-10-02T22:14:00.000-07:00

http://hpronline.org/hprgument/ukraines-soul-search/

Ukraine’s Soul Search

By Beatrice Walton

Exactly eleven months ago yesterday I sat on a bus rattling its way through countryside on my way to L’viv, an artistic, cobblestone city in the western half of the Ukraine. As I gazed out the window, I watched as petite houses dotted the rural landscape where old babcias tended their gardens and teenagers waited for the bus under graffitied cement overhangs.

At the border my lone American passport held up the bus for an additional three hours, bringing our total wait to six hours. We spent the night at the checkpoint, a place which I recall as dark, modestly sketchy, and where drug-sniffing dogs barked constantly. Later, we stopped again, first for wandering cows and a team of horse-drawn wagons in the road and, second, for police, who according to my fellow passengers, are usually just looking for bribes.

Welcome to Ukraine, a place not quite like Europe and yet not really like Russia either. A place which, one might say, is currently on a soul search.

As we drove along I conversed with a Polish banker who had worked in Ukraine. He told me how he felt that support for democracy there was waning. To the poor, rural Ukrainians who had experienced communism and were now struggling under capitalism and the recession, the old days of relative economic security under strong leadership seem tempting. For them, things weren’t ever good in the old days, but then again, things weren’t ever so bad.

Flash-forward to this week’s news of the Ukrainian Constitutional Court’s reversal of an amendment passed in 2004 which markedly decreased the power of the executive. Passed following the Orange Revolution, the 2004 amendment was a check on the original 1996 constitution, which gave the president power to appoint the prime minister and cabinet officials and to fire ministers without parliamentary approval. Under the reversal, parliamentary terms will be decreased from five to four years, and pro-Russia President Viktor Yanukovych will now be able to cancel any government resolution.

According to the former Prime Minister and opposition leader Yulia Tymoshenko, in a September 30th Kyiv Post article, “October 1st [will] go down in Ukrainian history as the day democracy was murdered and a dictatorship installed.”

Since elected in a cloud of fraud in February, President Yanukovych has continually courted the Kremlin. With his increased powers, Yanukoyvch can be expected to further strengthen his ties with Russia as he continues on his agenda of ending Ukraine’s bid to join NATO, increasing Russia’s control over an important southeastern gas line, and possibly even installing Russian as the official language.

Perhaps the man on the bus was right, democracy for sure is waning in Ukraine. However, I for one tend to disagree—because, this is Ukraine’s great chance. If Ukrainians take a stance and rise up in protest behind Tymoshenko, they will decide their allegiance and their commitment to democracy, once and for all, on their own terms. In doing so they will build a stronger Ukraine, independent in its views and collaborative in its means, to thrive in the twenty-first century.

Otherwise if they don’t, there are few reasons to believe why Ukrainians, half of whom already speak Russian, won’t simply sway to Russian influence under a President who already has.

Photo Credit: Ria Novosti

Memories

2010-07-13T07:53:00.000-07:00

Time Slipping Away

2010-07-13T07:20:00.000-07:00

Last Wishes in Krakow

On my last day in Poland I frantically scrambled through the cobblestone, congested streets of the city center in Krakow in search of last minute souvenirs. A Polish shot glass and a couple of t-shirts later my work in Krakow was finished. Or was it?

It wasn’t so easy saying goodbye to a city I’d come to call home for so many months. And knowing that I would be leaving later that evening to begin my long journey back to the U.S. only made life more difficult.

I didn’t want to leave. Standing, watching the crowds of people pass by, the street vendors, and the performers, I took note of the immense beauty of the place I had been fortunate enough to live in over the past 10.5 months. I had always known I had been living in a gorgeous city, only now, when I had only a few more moments to appreciate it, every detail took on a whole new light.

Since when had the scaffolding been taken down from around the Sukiennice? Since when had I missed that fountain next to Kosciol Mariacki? All of the sudden my mind was flooded with hundreds of ideas of things I had forgotten to do, to see, or to experience. There was still so much I had hoped to accomplish. And then all of the sudden it hit me: I was finally out of time.

With all 60 kilograms of my packing still awaiting me at home I made some irrational, yet in my mind very reasonable decisions: I would see some last minute sights which I had somehow forgotten to visit in the 320 days prior.

In Poland, tradition holds that whenever one enters a church for the first time, he or she is entitled to one wish. Luckily, Krakow has so many hundreds of churches that it is next to impossible for even locals to find and visit them all. So with that in mind I decided to visit one last church.

For sure while living in Poland some of the uber-Catholicness of my Polish compatriots had rubbed off on me. I mean honestly, it doesn’t take many days in Catholic-school mandated recollection before one will begin to adopt a bit of piety. So I knelt down on the hardwood pew of a gothic-style church, uniquely designed with one huge center column situated in the main aisle, and thought.

I thought about all the good that had happened to me over the course of the past year. I thought of all amazing sights I had seen, the countries I’d visited, the people I’d met, and the changes that had occurred in me. I tried to remember when I first arrived in Poland and how strange and different everything seemed. I thought too about how my host mother had cried the day before as she told me I had been like a second daughter to her. I thought about how one year ago I didn’t want to go to Poland and about how now, one year later, I didn’t want to leave.

And of course I thought about how I had fallen in love and how difficult it would be to say goodbye.

And then, just before leaving, I made one very last wish.

The Fourth of July

2010-07-05T03:15:00.000-07:00

An Election Birthday

An actual ballot box, loose security, a paper ballot with two boxes to personally “X” and fold in half… certainly a new voting experience for me.

A bittersweet birthday with only two days left in Poland. Cheap Russian champagne, a cake with all the candles, and American-style strawberry shortcake helped to make the occasion. Ironically, a neighborhood festival happened to set off a full fireworks display directly across from my house. So it ended up being a full 4th of July style birthday after all.

:(

2010-06-26T16:28:00.000-07:00

Chasing the Daylight

And so it begins.

I never could have imagined that sitting here knowing I have 9 days left would be so difficult. Who can I talk to about it? My friends at home? They don’t understand. The other exchange students? Most of them are gone. It’s just me and my thoughts and my inability to comprehend leaving a place that I have grown to love like home.

How did 11 months go so fast? How can I say goodbye? Those are the longstanding questions. But even the immediate ones are now problems as well. What do I do tomorrow? I have a million ideas but lack the concentration to complete even one. Then tomorrow night I will stop and think, wow, one more day gone. One more day that I won’t get back again.

I don’t even have the concentration to finish this blog out correctly right now. Maybe tomorrow. I had wanted to write a few more pieces before going but I can’t find the mind to do it right now.

Because it’s all starting, just now, to be real.

Moving Day, Again

2010-06-16T03:28:00.000-07:00

The End of the Piekary Era

Will I go back?

I’m going to miss my routine runs on the Wisla river path, taking walks to make pictures on the rock overlooking the river valley (see above), the view of both Tyniec monastery and Klasztor, living close to Kryspinow for swimming, bike rides on the natural floodwall into small towns while passing by babcias planting gardens and families making baskets…

Yet I know, it’s time for me to go.

Węgrzce Wielkie here I come.

Kryspinów

2010-06-13T02:08:00.000-07:00

Enjoying the Homeland

Looking Back

2010-06-12T09:36:00.000-07:00

Notes from a Year Ago

Below are notes from a friend who at times knows me better than I know myself—the one who sat with me as I cried about going to Poland one year ago, who understood the complex emotions of leaving for exchange, who realized my need to take a year abroad and away from school before I even recognized it myself, and who, ultimately, convinced me to take it. I owe you so much, Lori: for acting as my constant editor-on-the-fly, for the lunchtime chats that spilled over into Latin class or afterschool into running practice, for always being patient with me as I rehashed and rehashed the pros and cons of going abroad, and for knowing what was best for me from the start. Your words (while luckily for me were highly foreshadowing in nature) were wise beyond belief and have led me down an incredible path. I never forgot them.

Here’s to looking back—

July 18, 2009 (Given at my graduation/going away party):

Beatrice,

People cross many borders in their lives... from one country to another; one era to another, etc. Somehow it already seems that you will cross more than your share in your life. This is your first big crossing. All of your classmates are on new journeys too; you’ve chosen to leap farther… to take a path less traveled. You are about to sky dive… and to land in a new place where you don’t know the landscape or the language. I know you are up for the challenge.

I thought the five words you used to describe yourself in the Post Standard were stunningly accurate: “I think of tomorrow today.” I thought of you earlier this month when I had the opportunity to meet a 98-year-old woman named Eva. She was giving advice to her great niece, Shannon, who is 18. Still agile, energetic and smart, Eva was the first woman dean of one of the colleges at Purdue. Her advice, said in various ways, boiled down to these two sentences: “Always anticipate changes.” “The secret is to always be thinking about what will be transpiring in the future.” I thought of you and of how you already know this… and have known it since at least ninth grade.

That said, I have one wish for you for this year… I think it is what you already have hinted you will do anyway:

For this one year of your life, think of today, today. Live every moment. Take time to breathe. Be patient. Bask in the sounds, the smells, the sights, the feelings. Find the good in individuals from your new hometown, and in the students from all over the world. In the stillness, find time for you.

I’m going to miss you at school… but I also look forward to enjoying and observing your progress for the rest of your life. Thank you for all of the learning you did at Skaneateles schools, and thanks, too, for the teaching.

August 21, 2010 (Given at the airport):

…Beginning today, you will see how short one year (or ten or 11 months) really is. While you counted down the days before departure this summer, now you must count the other way: each day from here on brings you one day closer to coming home. People say that that departure is the hardest of all.

I feel a bit responsible for what you are about to face... because I had some influence in your decision to apply and to go. I want you to love it… I worry that you won’t. And then I kick myself for worrying because I know you will do what you’ve always done: squeeze the most out of your experiences and opportunities.

I already miss you… but I would have missed you in Skaneateles whether you went to Poland or to Cambridge. The thing about what you are walking into now is that it is a blank slate… a total unknown. You are taking a leap that very few people in the world ever take. I know you are up for it… and that the people who meet you will be lucky. When you give the people there the best of you, and appreciate the best in them, they will be sure to love you in return.

With love and admiration,

Lori Ruhlman

Ten Months

2010-06-09T04:36:00.000-07:00

What’s Changed

During my time in Poland:

A terrible Wisla flood breeched parts of the floodwall and nearly reached my doorstep.
The paltry rural road to my house was paved in Wola Batorska and sidewalks were put in along my bus route.
WiFi was brought into my country farmhouse!
The Polish president and top government leaders were killed in a freak accident.
Obama nearly came to Wawel Castle for the state funeral, until...
A sudden volcano eruption just so happened to ground most state leaders from flying to Poland and…
My mother who was planning to visit me but was also unable once her flights were cancelled.
A random virus or bought of food poisoning suddenly struck me in the middle of my marathon leading to three days in the hospital.
Joe Biden came to Poland, Roman Polanski was indicted, the U.S. sponsored Eastern European anti-missile shield plan was dropped, a dog bit me, and…
A Starbucks will soon be opening in Galeria Krakowska ??!

In 10 months, Poland’s changed.

So have I.

As college placement exams, course selections, advising papers, and housing forms call my name, it has dawned on me that my time here in Poland has almost come full circle. The weather is now hot and muggy like the weather when I first arrived. The looming pressures of school once again occupy my mind. The travel agency writes constantly asking me to confirm my flights. My friends back home have returned from their first year of college.

In so many ways I am exactly in the place I was one year ago. Yet in so many ways I am not. In the interim year, I have seen and experienced more than I could have imagined due largely to random, unplanned, and fateful events which popped up around every corner. There was never a dull moment.

I thought that by going away I would iron out the fine wrinkles in my heavily steamed and tailored life plan. But instead I’ve done just the opposite and have come to appreciate life by not trying to control its every detail.

So here’s a toast to openness and freethinking: “the plan” I once had has been scratched and reevaluated. Thanks Poland.

The road ahead lays open.

Polish Flood 2010

2010-06-09T03:23:00.000-07:00

Photos From My Neighborhood

Photos

2010-05-12T11:27:00.000-07:00

Recapping a Month

Flowers drape over a makeshift memorial for deceased President Lech Kaczynski. Krakow (April 12, 2010).

The March of the Living. Auschwitz (April 12, 2010).

Wiosna! Spring! (April 24, 2010).

IX Maraton Cracovia (April 25, 2010).

Race reminder. But it wasn't supposed to mean, "You want to be in a hospital after-wards." (April 28, 2010).

Hiking in South- Eastern Poland (April 30, 2010).

Aftermath

2010-04-17T07:11:00.000-07:00

Why the Country in Mourning is Politically Tearing at the Seems

Tomorrow thousands of Poles and foreigners are expected to crowd Krakow’s large rynek and side streets to catch a glimpse of the enormous state funeral being staged for Poland’s deceased president, Lech Kaczynski, who was killed in a plane crash last week. The ceremony, which will be marked by colossal pomp and circumstance to honor the late president, has caused a great rift amongst Poles owing to disagreements as to where Kaczynski and his wife Maria should be laid to rest.

Hundreds of heads of states, prime ministers, royalty, members of parliament, top religious officials, and countless other influential persons from around the world are set to attend the funeral which will be begin at Kościół Mariacki (St. Mary’s Basilica) in Krakow’s city center. Among those in attendance will be American President Barack Obama and his wife Michelle, Russian President Dmitry Medvedev, England’s Prince Charles, German Chancellor Angela Merkel, and Spain’s King Juan Carlos.

The funeral will then process along the historical Royal Route to Wawel Castle where Kaczynski and wife Maria will be buried in the cathedral crypt alongside Poland’s most dignified leaders in history including dozens of Polish kings, queens, saints, and national icons—a point that has fundamentally and bitterly divided Poles as of late.

To say that not all Poles liked President Lech Kaczynski’s far right veering and America-courting policies while he was in office would be a vast understatement. To put it in perspective, just before the fatal plane crash Kaczynski’s approval rating had sunk to less than 30%. Yet paradoxically, in the week since the tragedy, as grief has struck this already historically pained nation clinging tightly to religious ideals, De mortuis nil nisi bonum has too easily become the rule of the land.

To some Poles, Kaczynski was a martyr for the cause of Polish history—a president who tragically died en route to honor one of Poland’s saddest and most under-acknowledged catastrophes which is often held symbolically as the pinnacle of Poland’s centuries of unheard struggle and strife. Yet to others, he is simply the worst president Poland has endured since independent democratic elections began in 1990.

History will judge whether the right decision was made to bury Kaczynski in Wawel. But as one Polish friend compared it, tomorrow’s events are as if Americans took President George W. Bush, at his lowest moment of approval, and decided to frame him as a “George Washington” or an “Abraham Lincoln” in the textbooks. Likewise, Kaczynski, for better or for worse, will receive tomorrow the honor of a ceremony and burial literally fit for a king.

Poland in Mourning

2010-04-15T06:13:00.000-07:00

Kraków Rynek

March 10, 2010

2010-04-10T09:01:00.000-07:00

Thoughts on the Country I Love

I awoke this morning to the sound of TVP, one of Poland’s main television news sources loudly streaming in incredibly fast Polish from the kitchen of the small Krakow apartment where I had spent the night with one of my good Polish friends. It was odd—a Saturday morning at 9:40 AM and the whole apartment of late-night-outing teenagers was buzzing. Something was clearly wrong.

I stepped outside the bedroom to see my friend’s parents and siblings huddled around the small counter TV.

“The President’s dead,” my friend solemnly reported to me as I peered at the screen. “He’s dead. The whole government is dead.”

“What?” I asked as I attempted to shake my just-having-woken daze, “I don’t understand. How can that be?”
Even though the reporting of the terrible accident was still in its first stages and information was sparse and conflicting, it was obvious to all of us that a tragedy of enormous proportions had just occurred. Poland would not be the same.

To really understand the significance of the completely fatal plane crash carrying 10% of Poland’s top government officials on route to the 70^th commemoration ceremony of the Katyn Woods Massacre in Smolensk, Russia, one must first recall the long and tragic history of this small, and at times very unlucky, country of 38 million people.

It is terrible to note that this is the second great tragedy for Poles in the Smolensk region. The first, known as the Katyn Woods Massacre occurred in the early stages of WWII when thousands of top Polish intellects and military officials were secretly shot to death under Stalin's order. To make matters worse, over the years Russia has at times both denied and refused to take responsibility for the atrocity. Today, even 70 years later, harsh feelings remain between Poles and Russians over the issue, a fact that tensely complicates today’s enormous disaster. The top leadership and intellectual talent of Poland have once again been struck.

It seems that today’s catastrophic plane crash is just one more link in an enormous chain of hardship, oppression, and ill fate that have framed Poland’s past. Yet it comes at a time when Poland was emerging as a source of economic strength and vitality in Europe. One of the only European countries to tout economic growth during the Great Recession, Poland must now, in the days ahead, overcome depressed feelings as it searches for new sources of strength and leadership.

Today Poland lost the president, his wife, the former president-in-exile, the deputy speaker of Poland’s parliament, the heads of all the Polish armed forces, dozens of members of parliament, and the heads of the chancellery, national security, foreign affairs, Polish army, national bank, and civil rights protections. Without a doubt, the road to recovery will be long, winding and uphill both ways.

As I walked through Krakow and rode several trams and buses to my house this morning I consciously took note of the eerie silence and the somber faces that surrounded me. The citywide youth pillow fight in the city square was rightfully not even considered. Major parties that evening were cancelled. Traffic in the city was minor. Everyone, it seemed, was at home fixated on the breaking news reports. And then in late morning the rain fell strongly as if in sync with the mood of the country.

My own house was flooded with silent sadness throughout the day. The only noise made was the occasional weeping of my host mother and the hymns of the televised prayer services. A Polish flag was flown on our porch draped in black cloth and no one spoke at dinner.

It’s hard for me to express my understanding to the Poles around me because as much as I want to say that I do, I will never fully comprehend what kind of grief they are going through. Surely America has known its fair share of tragedy amongst top governmental officials in the past, however never, it seems, has any country been so terribly and widely hit at its core as Poland has been today. Today Poland weeps as a nation for those who died in service to their country, for each other, and for the uncertainty that abounds.

My heart goes out to the country I love and all those painfully grieving and unsure of what will be in the days ahead.

Breaking News

2010-04-10T01:41:00.000-07:00

Polish President and Top Government Officials Killed in Catastrophic Plane Crash in Smolensk, Russia

The Polish President, his wife, dozens of members of parliament, and tons of top military and cabinet officials are all dead as of early this morning. Over 100 people total were killed in a disastrous plane crash in Smolensk that was carrying the heads of the Polish government to Russia to partake in the 70^th commemoration of the Katyn Woods Massacre.

It is terrible to note that this is the second great tragedy for Poles in the Smolensk region. The first, known as the Katyn Woods Massacre occurred in the early stages of WWII when thousands of top Polish intellects and military officials were shot to death under Stalin's order. To make matters worse, over the years Russia has at times both denied and refused to take responsibility for the atrocity. Today, even 70 years later, harsh feelings remain between Poles and Russians over the issue, a fact that completely complicates today’s enormous disaster.

This happened only less than 2 hours ago and so at this point it is uncertain what will be the full impact of this horrible event. The photos of the crash rubble confirm the report that there will be no survivors. The official number of dead as reported by the news changes by the minute. Suspicions about Russian schemes have of course surfaced. The tensions will only increase over the coming hours. When in history have so many of the most important government officials of a country all been killed in one incident?

As I type this from my friend's apartment in the center of Krakow, I look out the window and watch the people walking down the street. Maybe they know already, or more probably, they have yet to hear. They're yet to know that Poland is not the same Poland it was three hours ago. But for them, or for any of us, to really understand that Poland is not the same Poland it was three hours ago will take much, much more time.

An event like this puts in check all the unimportant and trivial problems in our lives. THIS is something real. This is something that, as I told my Polish friend, she will remember all her life. I know I will.

In the Neighborhood

2010-03-30T12:28:00.000-07:00

Scenes From Piekary

26.2 Miles

2010-03-25T12:45:00.000-07:00

One Month From Today

For those of you at home whom I have not told, I have some news:

Exactly 30 days from today I will lace up my trainers and hit the 9:30 AM starting line of the XI Cracovia Maraton 2010.

My only goal is to finish.

Perhaps my naivety deludes the task of running 26.2 miles. Or perhaps I am just crazy. Either way, I am officially committed now, via online registration and my own incessant pride, to undertake the task. God help me.

This past weekend I undertook my greatest running feat to date—I ran 21 miles at a steady, yet slow, marathon-paced clip. I didn't plan to run that far, I just started out and kept going and going and going.

Running on the Wisla river path, I passed by Wawel Castle, monasteries, pedestrians, rowers, tour groups, sunbathers, and bikers. Nearly everyone, it seemed, was out to enjoy the immaculate 60-degree weather. It was a glorious first day of spring and an even better run.

I have been running since the day I arrived in Poland, with the exception of the few weeks I spent touring Europe in November. It's been great and it's been tough. But best of all, it has gotten me out the door 6 days a week to appreciate my surroundings and visit new places—even on the darkest and gloomiest winter days. Because of this, as my previous host mother put it, I have the map of all the roads, trails, and dirt paths in Wola Batorska in my head.

But let me not underestimate the differences between running in Poland and training in the U.S. Without a team, a training partner, a coach, a proper gym, a track, a chiropractor, a consistent plan, workouts, or (for a while) a watch, my training has been completely my own, and at times shaky, endeavor. For better or for worse, I am in this completely on behalf of myself.

Of course some weeks I stuck to my own goals better than others. And of course, there have been all sorts of ups and downs, dog bites and illnesses, plantar fasciitis, strained muscles, and -8 degree Fahrenheit weather along the way. Despite this, I have loved every minute of running through Poland.

When I ran in high school, I often struggled to leave behind at the starting line the plethora of mental baggage which I often lugged around with me on race day—self-induced pressure to want to race well not only for me, but for my coaches and, above all else, for my team. Now I am simply out to have a good time—and by that I am in no way referring to minutes or seconds.

On April 25, 2010, I will not be running for anything or anyone or any specific (or intelligent) reason. I will simply be running for me.

CERN

2010-03-06T01:39:00.001-08:00

Catholic School Revisited

I was seven years old the last time I wore a uniform to school.

I think I’m regressing.

Since moving to Piekary, blue and white sweaters, vests, and t-shirts graced with a Christian half-drawn fish and the Centrum Edukacyjne Radosna Nowina 2000 (CERN) crest have once again replaced my wardrobe. For me, it’s second grade in St. Patrick’s School in Oneida, NY all over again. Or sort of.

My favorite school uniform option here is the polo shirt. With its white paneled sides and drooping collar, I sometimes feel as though I’m more a part of a giant ‘80s-style bowling league than a Catholic school.

It’s a strict dress code no doubt: no nail polish, no dangling jewelry, no extra sweaters, no ostentatious hair accessories, no scarves, and skirts?—only if of modest length. Wear something outside those parameters and a stern Pani Dyrektor, an all-holier-than-thou-sixty-something-year-old woman whose true calling, I believe, is actually in the Polish armed forces, will follow you into the bathroom and scold you to change.

Welcome to CERN.

I first realized what sort of educational institution I had become a part of when I logged onto the Internet in the school library one morning. Much to my astonishment, I discovered that the school’s censoring system blocked The New York Times homepage. In this case, the site was prohibited because the word “gay” appeared in an article about the U.S. Army’s “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy.

Wow.

For sure CERN is a different school than any I have attended either in the U.S., or in Poland. And yet, there’s something quite nice about the place; I feel like I’m “doing good” just being there. The customs are unlike any I have known before.

When entering a classroom, the boys always wait until all the girls are in the classroom before filing in themselves. When the teacher walks in, all the students rise to acknowledge his or her entrance (and the same on departure). We wait for the teacher to recognize us with “dzien dobry” before daring to sit down. Not surprisingly, we always pray together before lessons. And don’t even dare to chew gum during class (I learned that the hard way).

Meals are eaten together daily: second breakfast, soup, and dinner. Those who board at the school eat breakfast and supper together as well. Often as I peer around the swarming blue and white clad populous, I catch kids making the sign of the cross before devouring their soup.

At Studniowka ball, the head priest and a cartoon diagram instructed dancing couples to allow room for the Holy Spirit to flow freely between them. And of course, there was no alcohol. Did I mention I wasn’t allowed to bring a date from outside the school? All this is a stark contrast to the Studniowka hosted by my former public school in Niepolomice.

The disparities between the students of CERN and those from Niepolomice shock me. Where are all the girls with fake black hair? Where are the boys with rat-tails halfway down their necks? Where’d all the high heels go? And what about the makeup? The students of CERN are truly of a different breed.

And yet, if there is one thing I have gotten out of this experience at CERN it's my own I’m-going-straight-to-hell reflection on my “lazy Catholic” practices. When was the last time I went to Confession? Why, when I was eight. I eat meat on Fridays, fail at any lofty aims to not eat sweets during Lent, and attend church as often as it’s convenient.

My Polish contemporaries put me to shame.

And yet, while I find the whole operation of a Catholic boarding school rather amusing, I can’t help but to be critical of several (or more) aspects of it.

On Friday, I felt especially bad for the boy who is more or less the “president” of the student body as he was publicly berated in front of the entire school, teachers and all, for being out of his dormitory past the 10PM curfew—even without any sinister intentions. One would have thought he was about to be led to the guillotine the way he stood, arms crossed behind his back, solemnly looking down as he bore the wrath of Pani Dyrektor. I find it excessive that his status as the chief of the school is now in limbo.

Or take for instance a talk our school received a week ago about premarital sex. While listening, I tried to picture the same speech-taking place in an American public school. I couldn’t.

“Sex is great, sex is amazing, sex is super!” shouted a mid-twenty-something friar at the onset, “But AFTER marriage!”

Am I less morally astute for having attended a secular public school? Did we miss the boat somehow by not being read the Catholic Church’s stance before being taught about contraception in health class? Should we have been given elaborate and confusing “rhythm method” charts in class and been told that that is the best form of birth control (apart from abstinence) like at CERN?

Of course not. It’s just a different world here.

Last night as I was riding the stationary bike in the school gym at 10PM, this thought really solidified in my mind—what an odd new world it is that I live in. I happened to be biking side-by-side one of the school’s priests, who it turns out, had invited students to work out with him at night.

Friday night sex, drugs, and alcohol prevention at its best.

Changing Face

2010-03-04T14:44:00.000-08:00

The Evolution of Poland's Poland

----------------------------------------------------

Poland's Poland

----------------------------------------------------

The first heading for the blog, chosen in early September. Very vanilla.

In October I decided on this bleak picture to use as the heading. It's a picture I took on the dirt road in front of my house in Wola Batorska. Subtle cynicism at its finest.

In December I realized that the blog no longer reflected my attitude towards Poland. At this point I finally got over myself and began to appreciate the fact that I am surrounded by so much culture, history, and beauty every day.

The most recent photo, taken by my classmate Michał Szewczyk, shows the further morph of my feelings toward Poland over time. Krakow is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been. Thanks, Mike, for the photo. See more of his work at http://fotoszewczyk.com/

Cross-Culture

2010-02-26T10:34:00.001-08:00

Red, White, and Big

When I changed host families two weeks ago, I was forced to settle into a new town, school, and altogether very different lifestyle from the one I had previously known in Wola Batorska over the past five months. Breaking my routine, leaving my family, and moving to the outskirts of the opposite end of the city did not take place smoothly. Though this wrenching experience, which when combined with the drugs for my dog bite literally rendered me sick for over a week, was imposing, unwanted, and perhaps even unwarranted, I have nonetheless had the opportunity to reflect on my mistakes in the process, which it turns out, were merely “Americanisms.”

Simply put, I made a horrible first impression on my new host family.

Where do I even begin?

8 Steps for Making a Great, American, First Impression

1. 1. Pack everything. Bring a carload full of stuff when moving to a new house. Don’t mind if the amount of clothes you bring is more than that of your two host brothers combined. Twelve pairs of heels, running shoes, and boots (not including a large box full of summer sandals, flats, flip flops, etc.) are all completely necessary. Your host parents might just have to readjust the closet design for you. Luckily, they’re interior designers anyway.

2. 2. Don’t bother to condense your packing. Why put in 4 large suitcases what you can easily put in 10 or 12? Not folding, I’ve found, is a great way to visually increase the amount of junk you have.

3. 3. Lock yourself in the bathroom on your very first visit. Though the word “zepsuty” is probably located on page 20 of “Learn Polish in Four Weeks,” disregard it when it is used to label the broken lock on the bathroom door. After all, obliviousness is next to godliness.

4. 4. Discuss politics in your native language. This, when done within the first 48 hours of arrival, is sure to crank tensions. However, talking politics in Polish, or any other language you don’t know perfectly, is different—that way, there’s always room to claim “nie rozumiem” and chalk up differences to problems hurdling the language barrier.

5. 5. Bring a lot of American political books with you. If the books have flags, Hillary Clinton, Michelle Obama, or the White House on the cover, all the better. That way, they just scream “America.”

6. 6. Bring your own food. There are sure to be disagreements. Which leads to number 7:

7. 7. Ask for skim milk and drink vanilla-brown-sugar tea. Fat free yoghurt, gouda light cheese, pomelos, rice cakes, cereal, and Wasa crackers—“offensive” staples, which will, no doubt, invoke “friendly” conversations about the state of obesity in the U.S. (“We drink 3.2% milk and we’re not fat!”).

8. 8. Understand that more is better. Definitively unique to America, “bigger” and “more” are principle tenets of “Americanisms.” Share them.

Moving Day

2010-02-07T10:29:00.005-08:00

No Place That I’d Rather Be

As I type this I have approximately an hour and a half left to spend in my house here in Wola Batorska. It’s terribly sad. My thoughts are in shambles.

This morning I got up, ate breakfast, went back to sleep (as is my usual custom), packed my unconscionably huge mass of clothes, shoes, books, and other random junk, went for my last run in the neighborhood, and of course, got bitten by a medium-sized, brownish dog, which now warrants me a trip to the doctor to receive a series of shots and pills.

As I hobbled back to the house and opened the gate to my yard, leg bleeding, I was nonetheless bombarded again by the 6, or 8, or 10 (my host family really doesn’t know for sure how many they have) little dogs which love to bark, snap, and drive me insane on a regular basis. One even proceeded to put a small rip in my spandex pants.

What is it with the dogs today?

And what was it with buses yesterday?

For the first time since arriving in Wola Batorska a full 169 days ago, I missed my bus stop when riding the bus home and ended up in Zabierzow Bochenski. Also, for the first time, I missed a bus I had deliberately planned to take to Krakow. Still more, I waited 45 minutes in Niepolomice for a bus to Krakow, which is unusual because buses from there are usually quite frequent.

My little world in Wola Batorska is off kilter. Something is up. No one is his or her cheerful self in the house here today. Even Babcia is acting strange.

I guess we all know: I’m leaving.

Ball

2010-01-27T10:31:00.000-08:00

Studniówka

Ski Trip

2010-01-23T06:08:00.001-08:00

Zakopane

Collision

2010-01-10T13:38:00.001-08:00

A Sylwester to Remember

As the Balice-Krakow express train slowly pulled away from the stop, heading down the winding track back to Krakow, I chose a backward facing seat with a nice window view—a perfect spot to think.

As the wintery scene of farmland and forests whirled passed my window, my eyes focused on the oversized airplane hanger slowly receding in the distance. It would’ve made much more sense to sit facing the direction the train was moving, Krakow, but I consciously chose not to.

My friend was gone.

She was going home—really—home. To her house and her family and friends in that little village by the lake with a funny-sounding “S” name where everyone knows everyone and no one likes the Dickens Christmas. To that place with a high school bearing so many memories, where we contemplated and planned for the lives we now lead. To a place which, until recently, had never seemed farther away.

“Life in Poland meets life in Skaneateles meets college world meets Polish friends”—an odd title for an even more bizarre collision of worlds that took place this past week.

Am I different? Have they changed? Does college really exist? You have new friends? What is so-and-so like now? When did that happen? By the way, I quit biting my nails.

Some things never change; others do.

My raging swine flu crossed with my extreme sleep deprivation from too many late nights left me dizzy and feeling weightless as I watched house after house pass by my window in reverse. Krakow was drawing me back, even as my eyes stayed fixed on the airport, where I had left my closest connection to home. In receding tide-like fashion, I was rapidly returning to my home.

It was an amazing experience to have such a close friend visit me in Poland, to see my life, to recall ours at home, and to embrace the differences therein. Our travels and outings were enormous fun and truly moments I will cherish in the months and years ahead.

We did it all: received medals and roses for a New Year’s Eve (Sylwester) costume 5k in the rynek which we never even registered for, got dressed as Alice in Wonderland and an 80s workout champ for a crazy New Year’s Eve party, hiked on the mountain path in Zakopane, got my ears pierced by some old lady in a tattoo shop in Krakow, shopped and bought a Studniowka (ball) dress, took a 155 zloty taxi ride home, had the best Italian dinner since August, stayed in a hostel, caught the flu, ate too many pierogies, waited much too long for public transportation, saw the salt mine, the Oscar Schindler Factory, Kazimierz, Wawel castle and cathedral, the sites of Pope John Paul II, the Wisla, Nowa Huta, Auschwitz-Birkenau, my school, Niepolomice castle, nearly every church in Krakow, the lights at night, the underground clubs, the shopping malls, and a horrible movie at Bonarka.

I’ll never forget it. But for now, it was time for each of us to go back home.

Holidays

2009-12-27T14:06:00.000-08:00

Open Christmas Letter Home

Wesołych Świąt Bożego Narodzenia! (Merry Christmas!)

I hope this note finds everyone in good health and spirits, having just enjoyed a peaceful, good food-filled Christmas. Though I miss everyone dearly, I am happy to report that I am just that--happy. Christmas here was a dream.

A funny thing happened to me this holiday season. I actually had a chance to fully appreciate and celebrate Christmas. I guess being forced into contemplative meditation during 5 Catholic Christmas masses over the course of 4 days with my host family did me a relative amount of good, even if I couldn’t understand the priest.

Perhaps what I’ve noticed most these past few weeks is that Christmas in Poland is, well, all so very—genuine. It’s not nearly as commercial or superficial as I’m accustomed to. So much so that I was caught off guard when my gifts for my host parents surpassed the normal level of gift giving, leading to my own discomfiture.

In Poland, holiday energy is focused around Wigilia, December 24^th, and the immense preparation for it. Leading up to Christmas Eve, everyone makes his or her “preparations” for Wigilia--preparations in the form of pine trees, carp, cabbage (while out running on the 23^rd, I noticed the streets near my house reeked with the subtle stench of cabbage), beets, desserts, home, and, of course, mind.

After a full day of cleaning, cooking, and Catholic-dictated fasting, my host family and I sat down to a delicious, meatless 12-course meal on the evening of the 24th. Minus the carp, I enjoyed everything. Included in the lineup were two different types of borscht soup, cabbage naleśniki (sort of like crepes), gołumpki (better known in the Walton family as grandma’s “pigs in blankets”), cabbage, kasia (rice-like dish, ours included plums), homemade compote drink, piernik (gingerbread), spicy fruitcake, layer cake, and several other dishes I can’t remember right now. Nearly everything we ate, I kid you not, was product of my family's summer garden.

We set the table with a full setting for my host sister, Zuzanna, who is currently on exchange in Alaska (“could I borrow Zuzanna’s spoon, please?”). Cutting through the holiday cheer, an underlying solemn understanding of distance silently prevailed.

Prior to feasting, my host mother read the nativity passage from the Bible before we all took part in an important Polish tradition, breaking opłatek (thin white wafers depicting religious icons or scenes) together while offering Christmas wishes. At this, I broke down.

As my host mother embraced me to wish me Merry Christmas, she told me (in Polish of course) that she hopes when I return home I will become an ambassador and come back to Europe. As she went on saying the nicest things, uncontrolled tears streamed down my face. I looked up only to find my host father with tears in his eyes as well.

Yet what was different about this bout of sadness was that it was in opposition to what I expected to feel this holiday season. I expected to be upset about not being home. But in actuality, I was only crying over the realization that this Christmas might very well be the only one I will ever spend with my Polish family and the fact that my weeks living with them in Wola Batorska are most likely numbered now to just a few.

There are so many memories of my Christmas in Poland that I’ll cherish for years: Pasterka (midnight mass on Christmas Eve with my host family), streaming an unconscionable number of lights around the fake choinka (Christmas tree) with my host brother, watching the szopka contest in the rynek, the holiday lights of Krakow at night, and of course, spending time with my friends and family here.

Five months more, it seems, is not nearly enough time to be in Poland.

Wigilia

2009-12-24T11:48:00.000-08:00

Wigilia

2009-12-23T08:30:00.000-08:00

A carp, swimming in my bathtub. Christmas Eve dinner.

Cosmetics, and such

2009-12-18T12:37:00.000-08:00

The Fryzjer

“Jak Halloween.”

“Jak Amerykanski Afro.”

“Jak piramida.”

Yes, you guessed it; all are references to my hair amidst the chopping.

The Fryzjer. I had been avoiding the subject for months. But today I finally woman-ed up and did it: I got a hair cut in Poland.

I stayed home from school today, that’s how big of an event it was. Monika (god bless her) told me, “It’s much too cold to go to school today. Sleep. Sleep.”

Really though, being the pragmatist that she is, Monika knew that if she allowed me to stay home from school I would go for my run during the daylight hours and not in the pitch black after returning home from the hairdresser later in the afternoon--therefore, I would have no excuse to escape the fryzjer. Smart lady.

So I slept in, ran, and ate obiad before Monika, Piotr, and I crowded in the tiny fire engine-red hooded golf cart to barrel our way through the unplowed streets to the fryzjer.

Being the silly person that I am, I mistakenly believed we would be hitting up the salon in Niepołomice, the nearby town. But no, oh no--our trek led us through an enormous forest into, well basically, nowhere, to a little house with an added pole-barn style box of a room adjacent.

Mistake number two, I only brought my debit card.

I’m often perplexed by the state of Polish hairstyles. Daily, I contemplate how purplish-red hair, a shade found absolutely nowhere in nature, can be so immensely popular. Or rat tales for that matter, or mullets, or inverted cone-shaped buzz cuts, or Mohawks erected from full heads of hair, or….

Sitting in the swivel chair before the only mirror in the place, abridged Polish-English dictionary in hand, I scoured the pages looking for any words relative to my haircut needs. Alas, I found none. With Monika preoccupied with dying her eyelashes (really) and her purple hair dye cap, I was left to my own translating devices. Fate, or more directly a stanch middle-aged woman (the sole proprietor and hairdresser) with little patience and probably even less for people with locks such as mine, now dictated my hair.

First problem: you cannot brush curly hair. I don’t care what anyone says, you can’t do it. Second problem: if you have already brushed said curly hair, you must then wash it in order to have any semblance of an idea of what you are cutting. Third problem: if the first two problems have ensued, spare the victim the embarrassment of seeing the mirror.

I should’ve known better. But for a grand total of 7 złoty (about $2.35), I guess I can’t complain.

Auschwitz

2009-12-18T10:36:00.000-08:00

"Poland declares state of emergency after 'Arbeit Macht Frei' stolen from Auschwitz"

Read the story here

Holidays

2009-12-18T05:15:00.000-08:00

Wrocław at Christmas

The markets and long line for Christmas Trees.

(Sorry for the bad quality).

Culture

2009-12-14T11:14:00.001-08:00

Dzik (Wild Boar) Hunting

Politics

2009-12-07T10:13:00.000-08:00

Wishing Things Weren't So

As I travel around Poland, fielding questions from teenagers in various Polish schools about life in the U.S. and as exchange student, there is seldom a question I cannot answer.

"What do Americans think of when they think of Poland?"

"Do you have to learn a language as well as we have to learn English?"

Or, of course, the proverbial: "What do you think of Polish boys?"

In many respects, I feel like I'm often a traveling one-man road show, showing up to classrooms wherever I'm booked to talk with eager-to-listen Polish students about anything and everything American--from music to food, school and politics, fashion, sports, college, religion, and current events.

I make jokes to lighten the atmosphere, some about the U.S., or my bad Polish, or about what it's like to live in a rural Polish village. Through laughter I've forged bonds with dozens of Polish kids and my Nasza-Klasa account (Polish Facebook) has grown considerably.

Yet occasionally a question arises that temporarily derails my singsong, happy monologue about American life. Today was such an occasion.

"How do you feel about Obama winning the Nobel Peace Prize before he has ended either the War in Iraq or Afghanistan?"

It was a great question and, as I told the deliberate 16-year-old boy seated in the front row of an English class at Zespołu Szkół im. gen. Józefa Kustronia in Lubaczów, I'm glad he asked.

Fortunately, over the past few days I'd thought much about this subject. With last week's presidential address, I find this topic more relevant than ever.

The boy continued, "It's too early, you know? How can he be celebrated for things he hasn't done yet?"

As much as it pains me to do so, I agree with him in part, and therefore also with the rest of Poland which largely shares this sentiment.

Over the past two months since the Nobel committee made its announcement of the prize, several events have not (unfortunately) engraved in stone the Obama legacy for peace. When the President travels Thursday to Oslo to accept the award in person, it is likely that even more tough questions will be asked.

The failure of the Obama Administration to effectively close the Guantanamo Bay detention facility within the pledged one year timeframe, a main tenant of Obama's campaign for "change" on the international peace front, marked deep disappointment in U.S. diplomacy and credibility for many foreignors.

The still ongoing violence in Iraq, especially today's deadly case of a middle school bombing in Baghdad, has also offered a chilling reminder that the U.S. is still, whether it wants to or not, fighting two wars, even as focus shifts to one.

So with those instances in mind, what's one to make of the fact that the current Nobel Peace Prize winner has just ordered the addition of 30,000 more troops into what will most certainly be a bloody, most-likely endless struggle to shoot down the enemy (defining who that exactly entails is another matter) to help prop up a corrupt regime laden with leaders looking out, more often than not, for their own electoral and monetary interests instead of those of their country?

Well, for one, the greatest realization is simple: the U.S. is in a mess. A big huge mess. And I wish could have told that Polish boy it wasn't so.

Obama has the right idea, despite the harsh reality of his decision. The U.S. cannot afford, through blood or treasure, to nation build in Afghanistan. But more importantly, Afghanistan, a country which only 8 months ago democratically voted to legalize what is essentially marital rape, doesn't exactly share our mindset or values either. That's why dealing with its leaders to broker plans for stabilization, much less for domestic issues to offset the appeal to many Afghans of joining with the Taliban, is such a crapshoot.

More troops are needed; this is true. But isn't it ironic that the "foremost leader in peace promotion" is currently urging reluctant world leaders to fight what has become, internationally and nationally, an unpopular, often strategically flawed campaign which will ultimately lead to more bloodshed?

Yet, perhaps our awardee knows best. I for one hope so. Maybe this truly is the master plan for peace and success (however that might be defined) for Afghanistan, the U.S., and the world.

But if ultimately the best roadmap to peace lies through more casualties, greater spending, and attention diverted away from the plethora of U.S. economic problems at home, I'll repeat my statement from above.

I wish it weren't so.

Holidays

2009-12-01T12:59:00.000-08:00

Krakow Christmas Markets

Mulled Wine, Grilled Kiełbasa, Pierogi, Gołąbki, Bigos, Roasted Nuts, Grilled Tatra Cheese, Naleśniki, Krakow Cookies, and Pierniczki....

Holidays

2009-11-30T10:56:00.000-08:00

Thanks for Giving

As I sit here in my room, alone, feasting on rice cakes and jam at 10:39 P.M. Thanksgiving night, an overwhelming sense of gratitude and contentment fills me, despite what otherwise could seem a very dreary way to spend a holiday.

Sure parts of the day today were tough. Some, namely a middle-school style school dance this evening, were harder to face than others. My run in the afternoon wasn’t so easy either after my swim earlier in the day and waiting in the dark and cold for the bus, which of course was late, didn’t exactly rouse my holiday spirits either.

I awoke this morning to the Michael Buble song, “Home” stuck on repeat in my head, even though I haven’t heard it for months (note: if you are away from home, absolutely, under no circumstances listen to it—it is unbelievably depressing). For the rest of the day I fought, and sometimes temporarily lost, a trying battle to maintain a positive mindset.

Oh, Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving is an important time for looking back and for celebrating the good (and bad) that has shaped the past year. When I think of myself one year ago, stressfully cranking out schoolwork and debating whether or not to go abroad, I feel like I am imagining a different person. Since then, so much has changed.

The past year has been extremely good to me, and in particular, the past 100 days. Since my teary-eyed departure in August I have learned and lived a new way of life, travelled to many extraordinary places, and have enjoyed a sense of calmness and peace that previously I had only dreamed of.

During the 185 days I have left in Poland I hope to accomplish much. It’s a lot of time, but not nearly as much as I had thought. I can only hope that the coming months are as good as those just behind me.

In this holiday mindset, I decided to have my fortune read at the school dance earlier this evening where my friend Paulina was predicting fate at a candlelit card table just off from the dance floor (in honor of St. Andrew's Day). I accidently chose the cup with Rosary beads, apparently foretelling that I will become a nun. Yeah, right. But somehow I’m also supposed to marry someone named Hubert. Go figure.

However, as the last prediction stunt I chose a fortune card from a small black bag. It read: “You will be happy next year.”

I couldn’t ask for more.

Ukraine

2009-11-03T04:45:00.000-08:00

Border Crossing

I’m incredibly fortunate that I took my weekend excursion to L’viv, Ukraine two weekends ago and didn’t wait longer. Ukraine has since been hit with swine flu and in only a week more than 255,000 cases have sprung up, with a great majority centered in L’viv.

While catching the flu itself would’ve been a problem, almost an even bigger crisis for me would’ve been re-crossing the border. I can’t even begin to imagine that nightmare. Even without swine flu or any major political squabbles, my own border crossing was a disaster.

According to the C.I.A. website, Americans don’t need visas for short visits to Ukraine. The site makes it seem like anyone with a U.S. passport can breeze right across the border. Not so.

Painfully, I admit that on the way to L’viv I caused our entire bus to be held up for an extra three hours at the Ukrainian customs checkpoint because of my U.S. passport. Everyone else whom I was travelling with had a Polish passport and probably wanted to kill me. Apparently an 18-year-old American girl poses a huge threat to the security of Ukraine’s numerous large metropolitan centers (ha…ha).

More likely, as I have since learned from various Polish sources, the antics Ukrainian guards play at the borders really have more to do with politics than security. Tough Ukraine will find a need to hold up anyone who thinks they’ll just sail right through—simply because they can.

On the return trip, it took six hours for our bus to pass through—this though, was not entirely my fault (I accounted for about 20 minutes of the delay).

Let me explain what it’s like to spend six hours waiting at a customs checkpoint. It’s dark, somewhat sketchy, and drug-sniffing dogs bark constantly, inhibiting any prospect of sleep. But as the price for visiting a foreign country that has striking resemblances to Russia, it’s a bargain.

Upon finally crossing into Ukraine around 8:00 AM, our bus was again stopped twice. The first time was for cows wandering across the rudimentary road behind a team of horse-drawn wagons. The second was for police, who according to frequent Polish travelers to Ukraine, are usually just searching for bribes.

Now though, border guards are searching for cases of swine flu, in addition to gas, alcohol, tobacco, and other commonly smuggled items. And if my host mother’s attitude about the flu even remotely parallels that of the border guards, I would hate to be an American trying to cross this week.

According to Monika, swine flu is the fault of Americans because of our poor eating habits and overall poor health. If we ate more "vitamins," she said, and not so many "chips," this flu wouldn’t be a problem. Now, she says, the flu will get all of us—even in Poland.

Perhaps she’s right.

Economy

2009-11-03T03:22:00.000-08:00

Shopping at a Polish “Wal-Mart”

Maybe there really are Wal-Marts in Poland (I’ve heard rumors of such). But around here, they are nowhere to be found.

Or so I thought.

A few weeks ago, as I wandered through Niepołomice I stumbled into a team of tents, trucks, booths, and card tables—all spontaneously assembled in a huge back parking lot about a block and a half from my school. To an outsider, it truly appeared as though the circus had arrived.

What’s for dinner you ask? Well, let’s see, take your pick of a variety of apples, pears, plums, peaches, walnuts, cherries, pumpkins, sunflowers, cauliflower, zucchini, squash, tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, and of course, the Polish staples: heavy sacks of potatoes, carrots, beets, turnips, and cabbage. And meat? Well, there’s at least 15 different kielbasas to choose from sold out of the back of some nice old man’s truck. And in the tent right next door there’s every type of ham, turkey, beef, duck, pork, and chicken to satisfy even the most judicious meat-lover’s palate. Cheese you say? They’ve got every type. Seafood? I wouldn’t touch it but they have it.

Picture an enormous, capitalist, free-for-all, farmers market meets Ace Hardware meets T.J. Maxx bazaar, and you’ll get a pretty good sense of what I’m talking about.

The quantity and selection of goods is unmatched in the traditional supermarkets or local stores I’ve been to in the area—and the prices can't be beat. Where else can you one-stop-shop for eggs or a hen, coffee or a coffee pot, canned meat, fresh meat, or live meat?

And clothing! New pairs of pants for about $5, dress shoes, men’s suits, women’s dresses, boots, Polish-style slippers and hats, scarves, underwear, Puma sneakers, purses, jackets, high heels, jewelry, socks—whole outfits for any occasion.

(And yes, I did notice my host brother’s jeans flapping in the wind at one of these booths.)

Next to "Menswear," "Hardware" sells windows, fencing, wheels, paint, saws, screwdrivers, bolts, hammers, and screws. "Sporting Goods" just across the way promotes sales on rifles, knives, and bows and arrows. In "Gardening" there are fresh picked flowers, potted plants, perennials, annuals, and shrubs. Whole trees sell for roughly $8.

If new furniture is your desire look no further. Couches, carpets, armchairs, tables, and stools, antique lamps and modern lamps, all for a modest price sold straight off the back of a flatbed truck. I’m almost positive this is where my bed came from.

I’ve since learned that this circus train arrives every Tuesday and Friday. I haven’t missed it yet.

November

2009-11-03T00:56:00.001-08:00

Crossroads

2009-11-02T22:40:00.000-08:00

My Home in Poland

At present, Poland is situated at a large crossroad: the dirt, rut-laden tractor paths of the past literally intersect with the newly constructed highways of the future on any number of the routes connecting the small towns in Lesser Poland, the region in which I live. It’s here where tractor-trailers commonly pass horse-drawn wagons and where headscarf-ed babcias make their way to morning mass, struggling to stay on the road amidst a sea of new Opels and Skodas. It’s a place where bread is still delivered by bakery trucks every morning and where (yes, I am aware of the cliché) the streets actually don’t have names.

At the core of these somewhat incongruent forks lies Wola Batorska, Poland—not yet completely modern, but certainly not antiquated either. This is the place that I now (fondly) call home.

I am incredibly fortunate to live in Poland in its current state before its traditional rural customs dissolve away, only to be realized in future generations through textbooks and stories. As new homes and developments continue to spring up, edging closer and closer to Wola Batorska, I wonder just how rapidly Poland is changing.

And especially, for how much longer will the farming families in my neighborhood carry on their traditional practices?

For the answer, I look to food.

In the small stores in and around our village, almost every conceivable processed, packaged, or fresh item is offered (granted with much less variety than in the U.S.). However, my family (and certainly many others too) remain largely uninterested in purchasing the bulk of the food they consume. We do in fact buy the same few items often: yoghurt, cereal (for me), milk, meat, water, tea, and juice. But more or less, we always stick to the same grocery list. The rest, we either produce at home or obtain from relatives or friends.

Because if the Poles in Wola Batorska have one characteristic that will enable their way of life to continue on in successive years, it’s their instinctive and clever resourcefulness, especially when it comes to food. I’ve never met a craftier people.

Take for instance my family’s pilgrimage to the gravesites of my babcia’s parents and grandparents in Tarnow this past Friday in honor of All Saints’ and All Souls’ Days. On the return trip home as we passed by some beet roots that we had seen earlier, we stopped the car, turned off all the lights, and then proceeded to jump the ditch and hijack some from the field—for use as “sugar” my mother said.

And yet, this is a very common practice in Poland. Food is food no matter where it’s found. Walnuts or mushrooms on the ground in a public park or forest? Fair game for whoever gets to them first with large enough buckets. Have a plum tree that’s hanging over into the road? Better keep an eye on it.

Though I’ve mentioned this before to nearly everyone I’ve talked to from home, I’ll repeat it, because that’s how much it amazes me: My parents here are not famers by trade and yet we grow all our own tomatoes, potatoes, cabbage, beans, peppers, chili peppers, cucumbers, turnips, corn, beets, carrots, spices, sunflowers, apples, pears, raspberries, cherries, grapes and many other items which I can’t think of off the top of my head. My parents collect mushrooms when they see them, pick up nuts when the trees drop them in our yard, bike to the neighbor’s house to pick bucketfuls of plums, and obtain fresh bread and eggs from a relative down the road. My host mother makes her own moonshine spirits from the various fruits in our garden as well as her own pickles, jams, and canned vegetables.

(My host father’s sister also raises pigs. Although that might be a little too much local eating for me.)

Today I finished reading my eighth book while in Poland, Jimmy Carter’s memoir, An Hour Before Daylight. While I can never say that I know what it was like to live in Plains, Gerogia during the 1930s, I can say that I know what it’s like to live in rural Poland in 2009. The concepts are the same: every animal, field, plant, tree, or piece of machinery serves a purpose and is drawn upon to, as Carter says, “pay it’s own way.”

I don’t see this mindset changing any time soon.

Many of my exchange student friends live in more modern, comfortable, or wealthier homes in Poland than I do. But seldom do they get to sit around on stools in the kitchen (in our case our only communal room and the warmest spot in the house) eating, laughing, joking, and enjoying the company of their host family every day like I do. They don’t walk to the bus every morning via a dirt shortcut through the fields, passing by an abandoned house either. And they certainly weren’t pushed to drink a moonshined amber concoction with random particles and herbs floating in it as treatment for their cold or their foot problems.

I truly live at the best crossroad in Poland. A small village, a rural homestead, an “average” Polish school, and a bus system which (when running on time) connects me to the nicest city in Poland in only a short nap’s time.

I will be incredibly sad when I have to move away from Wola Batorska to a new town and a new family in January.

I guess it’s a good thing that I feel this way.

Russia

2009-10-26T15:02:00.000-07:00

This Happens in Poland Too:

New York Times

Hypnotizing Hunt For Mushrooms

by Ellen Barry

Time

2009-10-21T13:28:00.000-07:00

Living

Today marks the two-month anniversary of my departure from Syracuse Hancock International Airport.

The best part is, I didn’t even remember.

My first few weeks in Poland flew by. But by mid-September, they seemed to drag. Every Friday (I left on a Friday) I would tally up the number of weeks since I left.

Two weeks…………

Three weeks………

Four weeks………..

When would it ever be October? I don’t think I’d ever wanted it to be October so badly in my entire life. I’m not even sure why I fixated on October. I guess the idea that I was still in my first full month—with nine or ten or however many more to go—was too much to grasp, even if I was enjoying myself.

Then in early October, the best thing happened: my watch broke. Having worn the same watch day in and day out for years now (with a permanent tan line to prove it), I took this incident hard. At first I couldn’t stand not knowing the time and date at any moment throughout the day.

Now, I prefer it.

Before I embarked on my year abroad, a friend gave me simple advice that has stuck with me. A single goal for the year: to live each day in the present.

Simple, right?

Well, for someone who chose senior year to sum herself up with the phrase, “I think of tomorrow, today,” this was not so effortless a task.

How would I adjust from the rigors of hard academics, demanding sports, time-consuming clubs, several jobs, and countless applications? Would I truly forgo the past and commit myself to living like a Pole?

Now when I sum up my days after large segments of time to friends or family members, I struggle to put my world into words. Because it’s not about the weeks, it’s about the days—or maybe even the hours.

Sure I’ve been to the big touristy sites in Krakow, Weiliczka, Częstochowa, Wadowice, Torun, and after this weekend, Lviv, Ukraine—and that’s what everyone wants to hear about. But that’s not what I like best. And that’s not what living in Poland is about.

Waiting at the bus stop every morning happens to provide more insight than most of the museums I’ve visited here. Maybe I’m strange, but I absolutely love to people-watch—and eavesdrop, if my Polish skills permit it.

Watching an elderly Polish man peddle down the narrow road, in and out of potholes and traffic, balancing heavy bags of groceries on both handlebars….or the perennial morning fog as it lifts off the now barren potato fields….or my host mother as she effortlessly leads the sheep to and from the grazing area….

This is Poland; beautiful simplicity visible only to those willing to live one moment at a time.

Luckily, I'm not missing it.

2009-10-17T14:09:00.000-07:00

Students from Jaun Pablo II Primary School in Chile Visit Jana Pawła II Liceum in Niepołomice

Out and About

2009-10-14T10:27:00.000-07:00

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas...

I knew it was coming, but I thought I’d have a little more time. After all, it is only October.

Śnieg.

Race Report

2009-10-13T14:08:00.000-07:00

It's Nice to Know Some Things Don't Change

A week ago this past Sunday I ran my first race here in Poland, the annual “Bieg Trzech Kopców” in the hills of Krakow, more descriptively known as the “Gang of Three Mounds” 13km international championship.

Along the way several surprises fell my way; namely, I discovered at about the 6^th kilometer that the race was actually a cross-country style race and the remaining 7 kilometers would be run in the woods on mountainous muddy trails and rocky embankments.

Which would have been great fun if I had even remotely prepared for such an event, however, where I currently live in Poland if I wanted to run on any sort of positive gradient, my best option would be to climb out of the ditch on the side of the road. As I’ve previously noted, Poland (specifically the area where I live) is entirely flat.

But Krakow. Oh, Krakow. Krakow is far from flat.

Despite the few differing realities of racing in a foreign country (i.e. I had to remember my Polish numbers for the gun-less start and check in under the surname “Valton” lest the race organizers search for my name in the “Ł”s), I was pleasantly surprised to note the shocking similarities between this race and those I’ve competed in at home.

Take for instance my fellow competitors. There were all the usuals: those who decided to wear the free t-shirt handed out at check-in on the day of the race itself (an elementary racing faux paux), those who saw the necessity in wearing patriotic flag shorts or pants, those who enjoyed doing countless hill repeats an hour before the event, and those who did no warm up at all.

At the starting line I recognized all my friends from home: the prerace jumpers, shakers, muscle pounders, but-kickers, hoppers, dancers, prancers, and sprinters. There were those who were visibly very nervous, those who were just out for fun, and those whose careers depended on their racing performance.

And of course, there was the proverbial snot-rocketer. Now, it was truly a race.

Racing in Poland has no doubt reaffirmed my belief that runners—whether Polish, German, Czech or American—are all equally insane. They each posses the same quirks and idiosyncrasies no matter where they are from, the product no doubt of too many miles spent out on the roads with minds crazy enough to be undertaking such masochistic tasks as running 13km mountain races.

But as is true at any event, the complementary t-shirt, medal, and “diplom” (as they call it here) more than make up for the strife along the way. Nevertheless, after waddling my way out of the finishing chute with my god-awful plantar fasciitis in my left foot, I readily lunged for the nearest patch of grass to take off my shoe.

Immediately I heard someone say something which I roughly translated as “we must go.” I looked up and a fellow racer, having just finished himself, was urging me to stand up and keep moving.

This act compares with the self-less, instinctive acts of my teammates at home following high school races. No matter how much pain they might have been experiencing themselves post-race, my teammates always found the strength to gather up the shorts and shoes of a more struggling runner. Most of the time there wouldn’t even be talking—a hand would stretch out another would fill it with a bottle of Gatorade. Everyone was tuned to the same channel.

Apparently this radio channel broadcasts on the Serious satellite network because the Europeans get it too. The Poles especially.

Hobbling to the car with my host parents and brother following the post-race festivities I began to think, for the first time since arriving, that maybe—just maybe—Poland isn’t that different from home.

Globalization

2009-09-29T13:38:00.000-07:00

Poland is Flat

Did you learn anything? Cause in the world today, you can’t live in a castle far away…

-Five For Fighting

Jana Pawła II high school is currently experiencing a severe shortage of soap. And hot water sometimes too. Locks on bathroom doors, or even handles that work properly? A luxury confined to certain hallways.

Of the following items, we have none: lunch, clubs, art classes, music classes, sports (ok, so there is a basketball team but it only meets once a week)—you get the idea.

So when my English teacher asked me during my third week what I thought of my new Polish school, I lied.

Sure I could have told her how I can’t stand that we sit in the hallway for 15 minutes between each class waiting for the teacher. Or that in just half of one of our technology classrooms in Skaneateles we have more computers than in her whole school. Or how I believe that smoking by school employees within the building is absolutely ridiculous. My feelings about the place had been bottled up for weeks and now, finally, someone asked.

“It’s a very nice school,” I managed. After all, who makes me the judge?

My Polish high school has nevertheless led me to think a great deal about my former American high school. (In both meanings of that sentence).

But I guess the biggest question I have been left contemplating these last few weeks is whether or not the extras of my former American school are just that—extras. Do we really need our new track and turf field, our million dollar Commons with an awesome Comet sailboat hanging in it, our high ceilinged, wood paneled library fit for any small college?

Well, yes. But that’s my opinion.

However, while I’ve been assessing the differences in aesthetics and ergonomics between American and Polish schools, I really should have been contrasting the education itself. Which country (and which school) is better preparing its students? And which is enabling its youth a competitive edge in the workforce—fancy architecture, or not?

The first book I happened to read while in Poland was NY Times columnist Thomas Friedman’s 2005 book, The World is Flat, in which Friedman makes the case that today, due to technological and political events, the world is essentially level, enabling anyone with access to technology to compete for jobs on the international stage.

Unlike Friedman, I do not consider myself a free trader. Nevertheless, I believe that it is entirely necessary to think like one in the global, connected, “flat” age. In today’s ever-connected world markets, one simply cannot rest on the laurels of his or her own country’s reputation, history, or isolationist policies to be confident that local knowledge jobs will continue to be ripe for the picking—a fundamental change that demands introspection into the way the U.S. prepares its youth for the workplace.

Because today, as Friedman explains, it’s not about the country, or even the company; it’s about the individual. So if a job can be done better and cheaper in India, China, Taiwan, or Poland, it will be—regardless of policies that try to restrict this phenomenon.

In essence, my Polish classmates at Jana Pawła are directly competing with me and my counterparts in Skaneateles for jobs from the same companies (i.e. Microsoft, Infosys, Wipro, Dell, Honeywell, Volvo, etc., etc.)—and only the economic forces of the flat world will determine who wins.

So what is any forward-looking, conscientious country to do?

The answer is simple: support education.

Jacob Kirkegaad of the Peterson Institute for International Economics noted in a USA Today article (Nov. ’08) the substantial ground the U.S. has lost in world educational rankings:

“The United States has rested on its laurels way too long. Other countries have increasingly caught up and surpassed the United States.”

President Obama clearly understands this silent crisis of education in the U.S. In The Audacity of Hope, he wrote that he wished the country “had fewer lawyers and more engineers” and on the campaign trail he continually touted the need for improvements in education to provide the country with more doctors, nurses, scientists, and entrepreneurs.

Perhaps the biggest flattener of Polish society, making it a hot spot for investment, is Poland’s generous gift of free tuition to the university or trade school of each student’s choice—granted he or she receives high enough scores on the Matura test. In essence, a grand, flattening policy that enables all Poles to play the labor market.

Nevertheless, there are serious drawbacks to the educational system in Poland. Without the “extras” of music, art, laboratory experiments, or advanced classes, most schools lack the ability to spark creativity and ingenuity in the minds of their students. This in effect limits the potential for Poland to turn a major economic corner—the switch from its current manufacturing economy to a design and creative economy where individuals propose the next big products and services, as opposed to just assembling them.

But with the continued improvement of Polish schools, it won’t be long before Poland reaches that point.

The days of the U.S. leading the manufacturing sector may be gone, but so too will be the information and technology sectors if lawmakers don't act now to support education, science, and technology. The U.S. will lose what truly has been the hallmark of the American workforce—the creative, smart, and innovative talents of U.S. engineers, scientists, and entrepreneurs who piloted the world into the global age. The U.S. school system, which fosters innovation and independent student projects and activities, will continue to play a crucial role in keeping America at the forefront of new discoveries and advancements.

Obama made no mistake in telling students in Virginia the hard, cold truth about the importance of education in today's globalized world: “We need every single one of you to develop your talents, skills and intellect so you can help solve our most difficult problems. If you don’t do that – if you quit on school – you’re not just quitting on yourself, you’re quitting on your country."

UPI White House The World is Flat

Re: Missile Defense

2009-09-18T12:51:00.000-07:00

Well, there you have it.

The shield has been scrapped. And boy are my Polish parents mad--especially because the news came out on the 70th anniversary of the invasion of Poland by the Soviets.

Ironic, huh?

NY Times Editorial

Dziennik Polski

Phys. Ed.

2009-09-10T12:27:00.000-07:00

Gym Class Heroes

At Jana Pawła II High School I am known for being good at three things:

1. Running

2. Badminton

3. Falling asleep during class

That last item I really can’t take credit for. I owe it to the longitudinal fault-line chinked with t-shirts down the center of my couch turned nocturnal-bed.

Put this in contrast to things I am known for being bad at here:

1. Volleyball

2. Polish

(Embarrassing as it is, in my first game of volleyball I succeeded in serving the ball directly into the back of Wojtek’s head. Sadly, he was on my team.)

So, I’ll admit it. When given the chance to resurrect my gym class reputation, I raced the gym class mile.

Well, actually in this case just 800 meters. Still, I am not proud.

We warmed up doing some odd jazzercise-era drills that it seems every modern fitness class (or any normal person) abandoned back in 1984. Somehow I can’t believe that clapping your hands together while kicking up your legs, squatting and then sticking your butt out and locking your hamstrings in an attempt to stand up, and twirling your arms in large circles while skipping can be doing anyone (and in particular his or her hamstrings) very much good.

As we lined up to begin the race, a.k.a. the fitness test, the old tension of competition circulated my veins. It would be a claustrophobically tight nine-lap test around the school’s rubber excuse for a gym floor. There would be no gun, just a “go.”

If my gymmates’ clothing indicated anything about their athletic prowess, then Polish athletics is in a sorry state. Converse knock-offs, arch-less street shoes, and slip on mock trainers—all embraced as proper footwear. So how about my Mizuno Wave Inspires? Failed the scuff test. Luckily the gym teacher let them slide for one day.

Nevertheless, I regret to say I didn’t break the world record in the 800m, or even my own record for that matter (20 seconds off given the conditions). But at any rate, I’ll take my title as the fastest girl or boy in 4th/ 5th class gym any day.

I realized today how much I miss racing. Nearly every day that I’ve been in Poland I’ve gone out for a substantial run amongst the corn and potatoes on the beaten, pothole-laden, grass-patched streets of rural Wola Batorska. I’ve witnessed beautiful sunsets, gotten “what the heck are you doing” glances from old people on bikes, found the best plumb trees, and I’ve been chased by more little yappy dogs than I can count. Things I would have never experienced were it not for my prodigal running.

But competition—ahh competition. There just isn’t anything like it.

Losing Poland

2009-09-05T15:58:00.000-07:00

Why Obama is alienating the U.S.’s most loyal Eastern European ally

“Heee-pe-krit-a.”

When I asked my host mother, a 44-year-old Polish elementary schoolteacher and mother of two, her opinions about President Barack Obama as we sat on three legged stools eating slabs of unidentifiable meat on rye bread one evening, she gave me two responses. By responses, I mean she pointed to the two words in my Larousse Polsko-Angielski dictionary that first came to mind.

1. Historia

2. Hipokryta

I was certainly caught off guard.

With the Dziennik Polska gazeta on the dilapidated table before us, I painstakingly labored to translate the title-page article “Ameryka stawia na Rosję,” an interview with a Polish expert on America. In particular, the article focused on the U.S.’s recent hesitations to proceed with a previously agreed upon anti-missile defense shield slated to be built on Polish ground. Scanning the article I caught sight of the name George W. Bush and immediately my finger lingered over it.

“Nie lubię. Nie lubię,” I repeated, eager to express my dislike for the former president and his eight years of troubled foreign policy decisions. My host father didn’t necessarily agree with me, but nonetheless uttered two words, “Iraq,” and “Afghanistan.”

When my host father returned the question and asked whether I liked President Obama, I replied enthusiastically, “tak, tak, tak.” I don’t believe my enthusiasm was matched around the table.

Hypocrite? Obama’s a hypocrite? I wanted to know more.

After pointing to a few more words, my host mother made her opinion crystal clear: Obama favors Russia.

Perhaps this opinion, one I have since learned is shared by a large portion of Poles throughout the country, has resulted from what many in Poland see as a major snub by Obama: his absence from the 70^th anniversary of the start of WWII ceremony in Gdansk on September 1st, an event attended by German Chancellor Angela Merkel, Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin, as well as the heads of Sweden, France, Italy, and Ukraine.

But in actuality, a sizeable string of events, beginning last fall while President Obama was still Candidate Obama, has lead to the decline of U.S.-Poland relations. Much of the tension takes root in Obama’s increased efforts to open the door for discussions with Russia, particularly over nuclear disarmament and Iran. And most importantly, his reluctance to continue with the Bush Administration’s plan to build a missile defense shield in Poland, sighting ships and Turkey as a more viable alternatives.

The shield, designed to ward off missiles from rogue states such as Iran has drawn intense anger from Moscow since it was first proposed. If Obama wants Russia to talk, he almost certainly has to let the shield go. But if he does, he will also be letting go of Poland, one of his closest allies in the region.

So why are the Poles so fixated on the need for this shield? Well, for one Poland is still neighbors with Russia at a time when Polish-Russian relations are complicatedly tense. Poles took much offense when Russia’s defense minister accused Poland last spring of being responsible for the start of WWII by not complying with what he stated were Hitler’s “rather moderate” claims because Poland was too concerned with becoming a “regional super power” at the time. Russia is also yet to apologize and release documents concerning the Katyn Massacre in Poland when 20,000 Polish officers were killed upon Stalin’s orders in early 1940. But above all, Poland has seen Russia’s aggressive, expansionist actions in South Ossetia and Abkhazia and undoubtedly sees the timeliness and appropriateness of an anti-missile shield.

Indeed, Bush’s hardball style diplomacy concerning Russia (including the plans for the defense shield) raised eyebrows around the world when first proposed. But in Poland, his actions were seen as appropriately tough.

Nonetheless, much of Poland’s desire for the shield is wrapped in world politics. Poland went out on a limb apart from the EU when it signed deals with the Bush Administration for the shield (which would also be accompanied by improved cooperation between the Polish and U.S. military, including a U.S. pact to defend Poland in case of invasion), which led many in the EU to feel that Poland was too closely courting Washington. If Obama drops the deal, Poland will not only feel alienated from the U.S. concerning foreign security issues, but also the EU.

From Obama’s perspective, the decision to move the shield is most likely the best option, especially considering Russia’s claim that it will position missiles to counter any shield built in Eastern Europe. And most notably, it is the right move if Obama is trying to curry the favor of Moscow in regards to handling Iran.

However, the decision will certainly come at a cost. Poland will be less likely to contribute more forces in the future to Afghanistan, where nearly 2,000 Poles are currently serving (2,000 more also served in Iraq). The decision will also anger the more than 20 ambassadors and heads of state from eastern and central Europe who wrote President Obama an open letter this past summer stating their concerns about Russia’s policies in the region (a letter which Obama has largely downplayed).

But perhaps most notably, in terms of economics, Poland is not a country to be leaving behind. With consistent growth in recent years, Poland has attracted major tech and engineering companies—from Infosys to Volvo—in much the same fashion as India and South America (a topic for another day….). In time, U.S. jobs could very well be headed to Poland and Eastern Europe; the question therefore, is whether our support will be also.

Dziennik Polski Straight.com Washington Times

Welcome to Poland

2009-09-04T10:23:00.001-07:00

This blog will be my primary means of communicating with friends, family, and followers from home (and abroad) as I live as an exchange student this year. I intend to write about my experiences here as well as about Polish life, customs, politics, and education. A uniquely historic and rapidly developing country, Poland certainly offers much for discussion. I hope you'll join me in gazing into Europe's most intriguing window to the east.