6/7/14 - "A Bad Night in Krakow"
Blogger's Note: As in America, Polish weddings also include the "last night out" rites that bachelors and bachelorettes regularly practice before the "Big Day". Many (actually most) of these festivities must remain classified.
As Ewa and her friends (including my wife) went out to celebrate one last HURRAH!, the boys (myself, Jimbo, and Arek) decided to enjoy ourselves. What follows is an account of the first night, and then the men's night that followed.
And don't forget to "like" Parenting with Lightsabers here if you'd like to follow our Polish adventures.
Listening to:
For the first time since we had arrived in Poland, we were about to leave Roman and Amelia with Ba Ba and Dza Dza. Joanna was going out with the girls for a bit of bachelorette entertainment. I was going to hang with Arek (her brother) and Tomasz (who I will henceforth call Jimbo as that is what everyone calls him). I would be spending the night at Arek's, so I had my bags packed for two nights. The next night would be the bachelor celebration, so I was prepared for that as well.
Once everything was sitting on the patio ready to be loaded into the car, Roman approached me.
"Ok, buddy. We're leaving you with Ba Ba and Dza Dza tonight. You're going to have lots of fun. Dza Dza is putting up a swimming pool for you; there's a sand box for you to play in; and, later, they're going to take you to the playground down the road," I explained to him. "I'll see you again tomorrow. I love you."
His lips puckered. Suddenly, I realized that this wasn't going to be as easy as I had initially hoped. The only people that he stayed with regularly was myself, Joanna, or Fickles (my mother). He wasn't familiar with his Polish grandparents yet. Would they understand his English? He understood Polish, but he wasn't in the practice of speaking it. Who would feed him? Where would he sleep? What if he had an issue? Who would wipe his ass?
Roman is 4. He has almost crested the ass-wiping hill; he wants to do it himself. But Joanna and I always insist on inspection and usually a final swipe (yeah, I know, that's gross). Lately, he wants to do everything himself. "Roman try! Roman try!" he'll insist. We usually let him. He'll retrieve the milk jug from the refrigerator, remove the cap, and pour himself a cup (I can't recall a single accident he's had yet). He wants to remove his own shoes (which he does just fine). He wants to put his shoes on (he'll get them mostly, but usually he needs them to be fitted a little better afterwards). He doesn't like to ask for help from his parents or even Fickles... much less the Polish grandparents that he's still trying to get warmed to.
In a perfect flip of what I thought would happen, Amelia was as content as could be. She is usually the one that is nervous around new people. She was just chilling in her little Baby World.
Roman was the problem. He jumped in my lap with teary eyes. He didn't say anything, but I reassured him with words that I knew he understood: tomorrow, moment, see you soon. I think "tomorrow" was the word that really hurt him. Maybe he was hoping that we were just going up the road and back, but he knew that "tomorrow" meant after the night's sleep. But, I chose to be honest with him. Already, my mind was beginning to panic when I thought of how it might go when he learned we were going to be gone for a week on Mommy and Daddy's vacation (which, by the way, we still haven't decided upon a destination).
Dza Dza grabbed the kiddie pool that would need to be erected and began to distract our son with the process of putting it together. Roman's interest began to grow as he saw the splashing, happy kids on the box playing in a way that he hoped to be soon.
Joanna and I kissed him one final time and made a run for it. I was heart-broken. Hopefully, he would grow closer to his Polish family during our absence.
Joanna drove her father's Suzuki jeep from Kalwaria to Krakow where her brother lived. She went inside to say hello before she left me to join her friend Magda before the night out.
We didn't stay long. Arek informed me that he had plans to go to the shooting range with Jimbo, and I'd be going. We were just waiting for Jimbo's limo.
I was rather nervous. I'm not too keen on guns. I'm all about gun rights back home, but I have no interest in owning any myself. I had a 12 gauge shotgun as a child, and I usually tried to find excuses not to shoot it. I just didn't like it. I have a lot of friends that are really into guns, and I'm a little bothered by the fact that they'll be reading this. I absolutely support their right to own guns. They're just not for me.
In Poland, civilians are not allowed to have guns. Period. Policemen, military personnel, and specifically approved people are the chosen few. For the price of 100PLN (złoty), we would be shooting 10 rounds on 3 handguns (a Glock 17, a Sig Sauer P6, a CZ 75) an AK47, and a shotgun. Umm... yay.
We took turns, and the instructor began to criticize how I would start off very well and end very poorly. That's because, I should have told him, I actually tried on the first round. Every shot thereafter was just a way to empty the clip as quickly as possible. I wanted to be done with this "excursion".
When we left, we made our way to Kazimierz (the Jewish district of Krakow, once the Ghetto, that is now the trendy, restaurant/bar/art scene). We stopped for some Belgium fries (with habanero sauce) before finding a sidewalk table at a new restaurant they wanted to show me. The building didn't even exist the last time I was here. It had a restaurant on ground level and a bowling alley with a bar below us. Jimbo recommended we try the bread with lard here.
Smearing lard on bread is a popular snack in Poland. I'll admit that I don't much care for it. But, at this particular restaurant, the lard was flavored with apple and chilies and garnished with radish sprouts and a smashed black olive spread. I really enjoyed it.
We drank several beers before deciding to relocate to our favorite bar. Omerta's is a small pub in Krakow that has grown every time I return for a visit. They have every Polish beer (microbrewed or otherwise) in existence. Each beer has a specific type of glass that is supposed to be used; and, if that particular glass isn't available because it's being used by another patron, they won't sell you that beer until it is. The bar is themed after the Godfather movies (in fact, I believe that Omerta means revenge in Italian).
So, we sat there and drank the night away. Arek recommended a particular beer called Atak Chmielu which means 'Attack of the Hops'. I very much liked it; it reminded me very much of Schlafly's Dry Hopped APA. I looked at the description where it was described as an American IPA (isn't that funny?).
At last, we left where I headed to get a zapiekanka, arguably Poland's most popular snack. It's basically a French bread pizza, but it's soooo good. I had one that had beef, chicken, spinach, corn, mushrooms, fried onions, tomatoes, and mayo on it. It was one of the best I'd ever had, and I couldn't finish the whole thing. For 10PLN (basically three dollars) I had a meal I couldn't finish.
At last, we found a taxi and called it a night. At home, we finished the night watching the Empire Strikes Back. Truly, a great night.
The next night would be the bachelor's night. Arek had presented Joanna and I with tickets to see the monster trucks that would be performing in Krakow that night. I don't much care for monster trucks; I can hear them from my house in Paducah at Carson Park. But I didn't want to be rude. Joanna, Arek, Ewa, Jimbo, his expecting wife Karolina, and I met at the stadium.
The show was loud, and I passed the time by entertaining Joanna. "Here they come again, Jim. Bigfoot is going to go around the track and smash a car. Every one prepare yourselves. He is about to come around the track again... to smash a car. And here comes another truck. Look Jim, he smashed a car!"
We had four tickets together. Jimbo, Karolina, Joanna, and I sat together. Arek and Ewa were below. Twenty minutes into the show, Jimbo and Karolina excused themselves to go to the restroom. Joanna and I waited for them to return. They never did.
Just before intermission, we decided to try and find them. On the fairgrounds, we found Jimbo, Karolina, Arek, and Ewa sitting a picnic table. I felt a pang of anger and jealousy that they had escaped Monster-Truck-Madness without telling us.
We left shortly thereafter.
That night, Arek and I were ready to go out for the big night out. Jimbo had called a cab, and we made our way back to Kazimierz. When I exited the cab, ten Polish guys were gathered around a table staring at me. Arek and Jimbo had gone inside to get a couple of extra chairs.
We gathered around the table and drank the beers we had ordered.
At last, Jimbo revealed where we would be going. We followed him to a club where we were given cards by the bouncer outside. We walked up some steps where we handed these cards to another bouncer; at last, we were granted access.
Jimbo escorted us to a private room. He was the host, so he began to talk to the crew. No one spoke English, or, if they did, they didn't to me. I was in a room filled with rambunctious and eager Polish men. I claimed a corner of the couch and waited for something to happen.
A waitress came in and took our orders. I got a Heineken. Bottles of vodka with shot glasses and Pepsi chasers were distributed to our tables. And I sat there.
Arek, the star of the show, was being entertained (as he should have been) by all of the guests. Jimbo was playing the host. He was coming and going.
I sat there, with nobody talking to the American fool, thinking, 'why didn't Jimbo introduce me to anyone? my beer is empty; how do I get another? I don't like vodka, but should I drink it to be polite?'
Arek seemed to notice my discomfort and ordered me to come and sit by him. I did; but, not long after, he was encouraged to leave the room to somewhere else. I know not where. Jimbo, too, was gone. I sat there listening to Polish being spoken all around me, right through me. I was invisible.
I suppose I could have tried to converse; most Poles speak some level of English. But I no longer wanted to. So, I started stewing...
For fun, if you would have asked me to describe the worst possible vacation, I would probably say:
I'd go shoot guns.
Then, I'd go to a Monster Truck show.
Then, I'd got to a private room filled with a group of foreign, horny men eager to get drunk or get laid, and I wouldn't be able to understand a word they were saying.
With Jimbo and Arek out of the room, I had an option.
So...
I took it.
I stood... and I walked out.
Into the busy streets of Kazimierz, where the streets were filled with people. I walked and walked, considering where I might go. So, I called Joanna. Angrily, I tried to describe where I was and told her that she needed to come and get me.
I was angry mostly at myself. I should have stayed to celebrate my brother-in-law's bachelorhood. But, as I sat there unsociable, I realized that my invitation hadn't meant to be accepted. I didn't belong there. I wanted to go home.
Feeling like a fucking pussy, I made my way through streets that were only vaguely familiar. When Joanna finally answered the phone, I yelled at her. "Guns??? Monster Trucks??? People I don't know??? When does my fucking vacation begin??? When do I get to do something I want to do??? Come and get me right now and take me back to Kalwaria. The buck stops here!!!"
And, yes, I know I was being a stupid asshole. But, I was frustrated. And stressed. And scared. And alone. And these weren't feelings a person should have when they're on the only vacation they get once every two years.
I wanted the vacation that I had been dreaming of. Filled with quiet, quaint European restaurants and Italian wine and pigeon-filled marketplaces. Where had that dream gone? I didn't know, but I wanted to find it.
Joanna and Ewa came to pick me up. I described where I was as follows: do you remember that Jewish restaurant where we ate with Magda? Do you remember that place that had amazing zapiekankas? Do you remember that bar where John threw up?
And, finally, they found me.
Ewa, as polite as ever, seemed to be very understanding. She didn't say much, but she was very polite to me considering the circumstances. I felt a sudden pride that she would be my future sister-in-law. And I felt shame. I should have just stuck it out. This was my wife's brother after all. This was his bachelor party. This wasn't about me.
And I felt apprehension. All of the people I had seen that night, I would be seeing again at Arek and Ewa's wedding. How would I act around them?
Once again, Duane had probably fucked up.
But I knew something at that moment. Despite Jimbo, despite Arek, and Ewa, and Joanna, and her parents, or anybody that might read this. I knew that I was on vacation. The last few months at work had mentally and spiritually wore me down. I had been counting on this get-away as a way to refuel my soul. And I was going to... with or without anyone else's help.
As we quietly drove from Krakow to Kalwaria, I vowed to myself that, henceforth, I would be the master of my own fate. I would have the vacation that I had dreamed of. I would speak up.
I have still to face Arek and Jimbo. I'm not sure how they feel about me right now. I hope they're not too angry.
And, part of me thinks that I will care as much as they did. When they forgot to introduce me to anybody that we were with that night. When they left me alone with strangers that wouldn't speak to me.
I care dearly for my brother-in-law and his friend (Amelia's future godfather). And I don't really care how they feel about me right now. Or how anyone reading this might feel about me right now. I feel what I feel. And I have come to a revelation...
It's not too late to have the vacation that I had been imagining.
Blogger's Note: As in America, Polish weddings also include the "last night out" rites that bachelors and bachelorettes regularly practice before the "Big Day". Many (actually most) of these festivities must remain classified.
As Ewa and her friends (including my wife) went out to celebrate one last HURRAH!, the boys (myself, Jimbo, and Arek) decided to enjoy ourselves. What follows is an account of the first night, and then the men's night that followed.
And don't forget to "like" Parenting with Lightsabers here if you'd like to follow our Polish adventures.
Listening to:
For the first time since we had arrived in Poland, we were about to leave Roman and Amelia with Ba Ba and Dza Dza. Joanna was going out with the girls for a bit of bachelorette entertainment. I was going to hang with Arek (her brother) and Tomasz (who I will henceforth call Jimbo as that is what everyone calls him). I would be spending the night at Arek's, so I had my bags packed for two nights. The next night would be the bachelor celebration, so I was prepared for that as well.
Once everything was sitting on the patio ready to be loaded into the car, Roman approached me.
"Ok, buddy. We're leaving you with Ba Ba and Dza Dza tonight. You're going to have lots of fun. Dza Dza is putting up a swimming pool for you; there's a sand box for you to play in; and, later, they're going to take you to the playground down the road," I explained to him. "I'll see you again tomorrow. I love you."
His lips puckered. Suddenly, I realized that this wasn't going to be as easy as I had initially hoped. The only people that he stayed with regularly was myself, Joanna, or Fickles (my mother). He wasn't familiar with his Polish grandparents yet. Would they understand his English? He understood Polish, but he wasn't in the practice of speaking it. Who would feed him? Where would he sleep? What if he had an issue? Who would wipe his ass?
Roman is 4. He has almost crested the ass-wiping hill; he wants to do it himself. But Joanna and I always insist on inspection and usually a final swipe (yeah, I know, that's gross). Lately, he wants to do everything himself. "Roman try! Roman try!" he'll insist. We usually let him. He'll retrieve the milk jug from the refrigerator, remove the cap, and pour himself a cup (I can't recall a single accident he's had yet). He wants to remove his own shoes (which he does just fine). He wants to put his shoes on (he'll get them mostly, but usually he needs them to be fitted a little better afterwards). He doesn't like to ask for help from his parents or even Fickles... much less the Polish grandparents that he's still trying to get warmed to.
In a perfect flip of what I thought would happen, Amelia was as content as could be. She is usually the one that is nervous around new people. She was just chilling in her little Baby World.
Roman was the problem. He jumped in my lap with teary eyes. He didn't say anything, but I reassured him with words that I knew he understood: tomorrow, moment, see you soon. I think "tomorrow" was the word that really hurt him. Maybe he was hoping that we were just going up the road and back, but he knew that "tomorrow" meant after the night's sleep. But, I chose to be honest with him. Already, my mind was beginning to panic when I thought of how it might go when he learned we were going to be gone for a week on Mommy and Daddy's vacation (which, by the way, we still haven't decided upon a destination).
Dza Dza grabbed the kiddie pool that would need to be erected and began to distract our son with the process of putting it together. Roman's interest began to grow as he saw the splashing, happy kids on the box playing in a way that he hoped to be soon.
Joanna and I kissed him one final time and made a run for it. I was heart-broken. Hopefully, he would grow closer to his Polish family during our absence.
Joanna drove her father's Suzuki jeep from Kalwaria to Krakow where her brother lived. She went inside to say hello before she left me to join her friend Magda before the night out.
We didn't stay long. Arek informed me that he had plans to go to the shooting range with Jimbo, and I'd be going. We were just waiting for Jimbo's limo.
 |
| Jimbo's limo |
 |
| At the shooting range |
We took turns, and the instructor began to criticize how I would start off very well and end very poorly. That's because, I should have told him, I actually tried on the first round. Every shot thereafter was just a way to empty the clip as quickly as possible. I wanted to be done with this "excursion".
When we left, we made our way to Kazimierz (the Jewish district of Krakow, once the Ghetto, that is now the trendy, restaurant/bar/art scene). We stopped for some Belgium fries (with habanero sauce) before finding a sidewalk table at a new restaurant they wanted to show me. The building didn't even exist the last time I was here. It had a restaurant on ground level and a bowling alley with a bar below us. Jimbo recommended we try the bread with lard here.
Smearing lard on bread is a popular snack in Poland. I'll admit that I don't much care for it. But, at this particular restaurant, the lard was flavored with apple and chilies and garnished with radish sprouts and a smashed black olive spread. I really enjoyed it.We drank several beers before deciding to relocate to our favorite bar. Omerta's is a small pub in Krakow that has grown every time I return for a visit. They have every Polish beer (microbrewed or otherwise) in existence. Each beer has a specific type of glass that is supposed to be used; and, if that particular glass isn't available because it's being used by another patron, they won't sell you that beer until it is. The bar is themed after the Godfather movies (in fact, I believe that Omerta means revenge in Italian).
So, we sat there and drank the night away. Arek recommended a particular beer called Atak Chmielu which means 'Attack of the Hops'. I very much liked it; it reminded me very much of Schlafly's Dry Hopped APA. I looked at the description where it was described as an American IPA (isn't that funny?).
At last, we left where I headed to get a zapiekanka, arguably Poland's most popular snack. It's basically a French bread pizza, but it's soooo good. I had one that had beef, chicken, spinach, corn, mushrooms, fried onions, tomatoes, and mayo on it. It was one of the best I'd ever had, and I couldn't finish the whole thing. For 10PLN (basically three dollars) I had a meal I couldn't finish.At last, we found a taxi and called it a night. At home, we finished the night watching the Empire Strikes Back. Truly, a great night.
The next night would be the bachelor's night. Arek had presented Joanna and I with tickets to see the monster trucks that would be performing in Krakow that night. I don't much care for monster trucks; I can hear them from my house in Paducah at Carson Park. But I didn't want to be rude. Joanna, Arek, Ewa, Jimbo, his expecting wife Karolina, and I met at the stadium.
The show was loud, and I passed the time by entertaining Joanna. "Here they come again, Jim. Bigfoot is going to go around the track and smash a car. Every one prepare yourselves. He is about to come around the track again... to smash a car. And here comes another truck. Look Jim, he smashed a car!"
We had four tickets together. Jimbo, Karolina, Joanna, and I sat together. Arek and Ewa were below. Twenty minutes into the show, Jimbo and Karolina excused themselves to go to the restroom. Joanna and I waited for them to return. They never did.
Just before intermission, we decided to try and find them. On the fairgrounds, we found Jimbo, Karolina, Arek, and Ewa sitting a picnic table. I felt a pang of anger and jealousy that they had escaped Monster-Truck-Madness without telling us.
We left shortly thereafter.
That night, Arek and I were ready to go out for the big night out. Jimbo had called a cab, and we made our way back to Kazimierz. When I exited the cab, ten Polish guys were gathered around a table staring at me. Arek and Jimbo had gone inside to get a couple of extra chairs.
We gathered around the table and drank the beers we had ordered.
At last, Jimbo revealed where we would be going. We followed him to a club where we were given cards by the bouncer outside. We walked up some steps where we handed these cards to another bouncer; at last, we were granted access.
Jimbo escorted us to a private room. He was the host, so he began to talk to the crew. No one spoke English, or, if they did, they didn't to me. I was in a room filled with rambunctious and eager Polish men. I claimed a corner of the couch and waited for something to happen.
A waitress came in and took our orders. I got a Heineken. Bottles of vodka with shot glasses and Pepsi chasers were distributed to our tables. And I sat there.
Arek, the star of the show, was being entertained (as he should have been) by all of the guests. Jimbo was playing the host. He was coming and going.
I sat there, with nobody talking to the American fool, thinking, 'why didn't Jimbo introduce me to anyone? my beer is empty; how do I get another? I don't like vodka, but should I drink it to be polite?'
Arek seemed to notice my discomfort and ordered me to come and sit by him. I did; but, not long after, he was encouraged to leave the room to somewhere else. I know not where. Jimbo, too, was gone. I sat there listening to Polish being spoken all around me, right through me. I was invisible.
I suppose I could have tried to converse; most Poles speak some level of English. But I no longer wanted to. So, I started stewing...
For fun, if you would have asked me to describe the worst possible vacation, I would probably say:
I'd go shoot guns.
Then, I'd go to a Monster Truck show.
Then, I'd got to a private room filled with a group of foreign, horny men eager to get drunk or get laid, and I wouldn't be able to understand a word they were saying.
With Jimbo and Arek out of the room, I had an option.
So...
I took it.
I stood... and I walked out.
Into the busy streets of Kazimierz, where the streets were filled with people. I walked and walked, considering where I might go. So, I called Joanna. Angrily, I tried to describe where I was and told her that she needed to come and get me.
I was angry mostly at myself. I should have stayed to celebrate my brother-in-law's bachelorhood. But, as I sat there unsociable, I realized that my invitation hadn't meant to be accepted. I didn't belong there. I wanted to go home.
Feeling like a fucking pussy, I made my way through streets that were only vaguely familiar. When Joanna finally answered the phone, I yelled at her. "Guns??? Monster Trucks??? People I don't know??? When does my fucking vacation begin??? When do I get to do something I want to do??? Come and get me right now and take me back to Kalwaria. The buck stops here!!!"
And, yes, I know I was being a stupid asshole. But, I was frustrated. And stressed. And scared. And alone. And these weren't feelings a person should have when they're on the only vacation they get once every two years.
I wanted the vacation that I had been dreaming of. Filled with quiet, quaint European restaurants and Italian wine and pigeon-filled marketplaces. Where had that dream gone? I didn't know, but I wanted to find it.
Joanna and Ewa came to pick me up. I described where I was as follows: do you remember that Jewish restaurant where we ate with Magda? Do you remember that place that had amazing zapiekankas? Do you remember that bar where John threw up?
And, finally, they found me.
Ewa, as polite as ever, seemed to be very understanding. She didn't say much, but she was very polite to me considering the circumstances. I felt a sudden pride that she would be my future sister-in-law. And I felt shame. I should have just stuck it out. This was my wife's brother after all. This was his bachelor party. This wasn't about me.
And I felt apprehension. All of the people I had seen that night, I would be seeing again at Arek and Ewa's wedding. How would I act around them?
Once again, Duane had probably fucked up.
But I knew something at that moment. Despite Jimbo, despite Arek, and Ewa, and Joanna, and her parents, or anybody that might read this. I knew that I was on vacation. The last few months at work had mentally and spiritually wore me down. I had been counting on this get-away as a way to refuel my soul. And I was going to... with or without anyone else's help.
As we quietly drove from Krakow to Kalwaria, I vowed to myself that, henceforth, I would be the master of my own fate. I would have the vacation that I had dreamed of. I would speak up.
I have still to face Arek and Jimbo. I'm not sure how they feel about me right now. I hope they're not too angry.
And, part of me thinks that I will care as much as they did. When they forgot to introduce me to anybody that we were with that night. When they left me alone with strangers that wouldn't speak to me.
I care dearly for my brother-in-law and his friend (Amelia's future godfather). And I don't really care how they feel about me right now. Or how anyone reading this might feel about me right now. I feel what I feel. And I have come to a revelation...
It's not too late to have the vacation that I had been imagining.
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