6/19/14 - "Another Polish Wedding"
Blogger's Note: I failed. I tried. But I failed.
I had the best of intentions; I felt certain that I was going to be ok this time. I really did. But I failed.
Oh, hell, I'll get to that in a minute. First...
We've decided on a vacation destination. The process was quite a roller coaster ride. Our first decision was to join Arek and Ewa and friends on their post-wedding trip to Hungary. We'd visit the wine caves in the north country, go camping, and, then, we'd go to Budapest for an excursion. Then, we'd end up in Vienna, Austria on the way home for a little side trip. But, that trip got cancelled...
So we decided we'd go to a travel agency. And we found options for Rodos, Greece or Cyprus or, even, Turkey...
But, we'd been to Greece. If I'm on a mission to see the world, then wouldn't another trip to Greece defeat the purpose? But the price was right... and we did love Crete...
And Turkey is a Muslim country. How comfortable would I feel as an American on vacation in a Muslim country. As comfortable as I was in Egypt? Yeah, I think I'll pass...
So, then we found a reasonable deal to the Canary Islands. The Spanish-owned islands just off the northwest coast of Africa looked appealing, but they offered no side trips, no excursions. And I want to see things and do things, not just lay on the beach all day. Not to mention, apparently, there's something called the Canary Current that brings cold water from the depths of the ocean to the shores of the Canary Islands. Apparently, the water there is unusually cold. And who wants to swim in cold water? Certainly not me...
So, we talked to some friends. And everyone seems to like Croatia. The smooth pebble beaches in the north are just a hop, skip, and jump from Venice, Italy or the sandy beaches in the south offer some of the most beautiful beaches in the world. We had a decision to make. Should we drive 14 hours, nearly to Dubrovnik and stay at some of the most scenic beaches in the world and be within an hour's drive from some historic locations? Or should we drive 8 hours to the less-scenic, northern beaches, but add a side trip to Venice into the mix? We would get Arek and Ewa's opinions. They had been to both places.
They said either decision would be ok, but Arek knew of a website where we could find a truly stellar vacation. Show us! we insisted. And so he did...
And he found something stellar, indeed...
For half the price that he had been willing to pay just a few months ago, we could drive to Warsaw and fly two hours to Sardinia, Italy. Sardinia is a small island about the size of Crete; some of its beaches were voted the most beautiful in the world. When I saw the pictures, I got goose-bumps. This would be the place of my next vacation. And there are all kinds of archaeological ruins to explore. And new foods to eat. And beaches to relax on. And Italian wine. And topless wom... well, anyway, you get the idea...
So, we've bought the soft all-inclusive package. What does soft mean? Alcohol is not included (except one glass of wine with your meal), but that doesn't bother me. My experiences with resorts and alcohol is that there hardly is any alcohol in the all-inclusive resorts' drinks. We had learned a few tricks over the years. Aside from bringing some of our own, just tip good. The bartenders aren't used to getting American-style tips. So they will hook you the fuck up... Or you could just bypass getting alcohol at all and just buy your own somewhere else. That's what we would do this round...
Assuming, of course, that I want to get fucked up. I mean, after what happened the other night at the wedding, maybe I should show a bit of discretion. Let's get to that...
If you haven't noticed, I started writing this quite some time ago. In Italy, I didn't really have WIFI access. Once we got back to Poland, we only had a couple of days to wrap things up before we were heading home. And, then, once we got home, I just couldn't get out of the jet lag funk for some reason. As a matter of fact, I would say that only in the past couple of days have I felt back to 100%.
So now I've got a bit of writing to do. Fortunately, I did do something right. While we were on the plane, I outlined all of our experiences in Italy. Over the next few posts I plan to share our Sardinian adventure with you. I expect writing about what happened there to be easy since I've got the blueprint all ready to go. Please, stay with me...
Listening to: Jessie Ware "Wildest Moments"
I had a bit of a sore throat. I woke up that morning thinking, 'Dammit! I need to be 100% for a Polish wedding. This sucks!'
But my sore throat wouldn't be responsible for any of my wrongdoings. As it turned out, Polish vodka kills a sore throat after one shot. Unfortunately, I cannot blame my sore throat for my actions.
The wedding would be at 3pm in Krakow (which was a bit early for the typical Polish wedding). We started getting ready around noon; and, I must say, we were all looking pretty spiffy once the time to leave had arrived.
Sitting near the front door waiting for us was someone I thought I recognized from mine and Joanna's wedding. He had been our driver.
Łukasz (as I found out later was his name) looked like a character from Jersey Shore. He had tan skin, spiky hair, sunglasses, and a large, chest tattoo that he left exposed by keeping the top buttons of his shirt undone. My first impression of him wasn't great. I would soon find out how wrong I was...
After loading in the van and getting about ten miles down the road, Joanna realized that she had forgotten Arek's and Ewa's gifts. We had to turn around, and we were worried that we would be running late. Łukasz didn't complain; he sped us back to Kalwaria to retrieve the gifts.
The trip there led us winding through traffic and passing cars and pedestrians. If we were going to make it in time, we were going to need to skirt the speed limit laws. Łukasz did just that. Having our children in our car, I should have been concerned. But I wasn't. He was fast but safe. I was truly impressed.
Later that night, during the reception, Łukasz would be transporting guests safely to and from the ceremony. He ran to McDonald's to get Roman some chicken nuggets when the wedding food wasn't to our four-year-old's liking. He went to get Magda's son to give Roman a playmate when he got bored. He was, by every definition, a pro.
Łukasz was a professional wedding driver. No, seriously. That's his job How cool is that? As well as the Madej choice for getting home...
At the cathedral in Krakow, a hard rain had just drenched the city streets; but, the sun was beginning to peek out. Arek's and Ewa's families had begun to file inside, and the pews were beginning to fill. They handed us the rings on one of those decorative pillows; Roman was supposed to be the ring bearer. Joanna handed me the prop while she tried to ready our son for the task (he was acting rather nervous, and we feared that he wouldn't be able to do it).
Arek finally appeared, regally sporting his tux, and striding toward the altar with that strange mix of uncertainty and confidence that nearly-weds regularly employ. We stood as someone began to sing in either Polish or Latin (I wouldn't know) amid a cascading organ and haunting violin that floated through fluted columns and humbling archways. Cameramen and -women worked around the audience and the decorations with professional steps, staying clear of our view but catching the tender, fleeting moments like one might catch a firefly. We traded looks among ourselves and our families and the groom-to-be as the bridal march brought us to our feet and caused me again to the look at the rings that were about to be hollow for the last time in a lifetime. I remained responsible for the rings during the majority of the ceremony, and I felt relevant to the service (even though they just happened to end up in my hands).
As it became clear that Roman wasn't going to be able to do his responsibility (he was just too nervous), Ewa's brother politely offered to bring the rings to the couple-of-the-hour.
A Catholic chant led by the priest and echoed by (most) of the audience brought us together in observance. And the service began...
Although I didn't understand the Polish oration, the ceremony appeared to go flawlessly. Amelia began to grow restless, and I volunteered to take her into the side corridor that was hidden from view. After she convinced me that she wasn't content even there, we relocated to the entrance. From there, I could soothe her with talk or toys; and, I could watch everything unnoticed.
I enjoyed my new post from which I could see everything. From the proud and caring families to the amused and joyful friends, a momentous occasion was being etched into the memories of everyone I saw. I was excited and happy.
Once the service had finally reached its finale, Amelia and I stepped outside where the rain clouds had already drifted away, and sunshine splashed in the puddles with giddy pleasure. Ewa's brother raced outside to a ledge above the large entryway. He was carrying a box of rose petals; I smiled at the realization.
Like the opening scene to a heartwarming romance, Arek and Ewa walked into a drizzle of pastel confetti in a manner that suited their very authentic love for life. I held Amelia in one tired arm and was snapping pictures with my freed arm, determined to capture the beautiful moment.
The entire family congregated in front of the cathedral for a group picture before we loaded into the van to be transported a handful of blocks to the hotel where the reception would be held.
Everyone was waiting just outside the hotel for the bride and groom to arrive. I began scanning the crowd to see who I recognized. I knew a lot more people this time. Thanks to social media, I had come to know more of Joanna's family. Some of them felt like close friends even though I had only spoken to them in real life a couple of times. I was anxious to speak to them in person. As a matter of fact, I had a secret agenda that... well.. hang on. I'm getting ahead of myself...
After Arek and Ewa arrived, we filed up the stairs where we were handed flutes of champagne to toast and the celebration began.
The room was extravagant. One wall was a window that gave a spectacular view of the Vistula River that was flowing under the bridges of Kazimierz. I could see the one that was covered by padlocks where lovers declared their commitment to one another by putting a lock on the rail and tossing the key into the river.
We found our table and discovered that we would be eating with Magda, Magda, Magda, (a different) Arek, Marcin, Jimbo, and his expecting wife Karolina. One of the Magda's (Joanna's cousin) and her husband Marcin were comfortable table neighbors. They had lived in London for quite some time and spoke perfect English. I knew them pretty well from other Madej festivities, and I knew that they were my kind of people.
Another Magda I also knew as one of Joanna's closest friend. Her son Antek was about Roman's age, so Łukasz had gone to retrieve him to give our son a playmate. Kinga and Miłosz were watching Amelia. Kinga was pushing her in the stroller around the room and would occasionally take her to the room where we'd be staying to feed her or change her.
The table was set with red and white wine, water, Pepsi, and, oh, yeah, you guessed it... vodka. This time, the brand was Wyborowa. Maybe it would treat me better than Pan Tadeusz. Maybe...
As we waited for the food to be served, Roman found a girl about his age and became the first to hit the dance floor. We were watching him as the first round arrived. A starter of salmon (one of my favorite foods) was sat in front of us. The room quietened as we commenced eating.
I had planned on cataloging the food (for my blog) as it was presented. But something muddled my memory rather well that night. Suffice it to say that the food was simply amazing; and, of course, it never quit coming. We ate until we just couldn't eat anymore.
Everyone got quiet as the announcement for the first dance was made. Arek and Ewa took the floor as Jessie Ware's "Wildest Moments" began playing. Everyone gathered around to watch Arek twirl his new bride as her dress flourished into entrancing spirals. About a minute into the song, he raised his arms to which everyone cheered and hooted. In true Arek fashion, he encouraged everyone to join their dance to which we all happily obliged. Truly, one of the wildest moments.
I returned to the table where rounds of vodka were being consumed. I felt like I was doing ok. I was hardly buzzed, and the vodka-drinking was going better than I thought it would. Marcin began giving me some friendly advice on how to overcome the ever-vicious vodka hangover. He insisted I drink a large glass of water periodically. I tried to heed his advice; but, as it would turn out, I'd forget much of anything that was said that night.
As soon as the band started playing, everyone jumped onto the dance floor. The band was really good, and I found myself twirling to a couple of numbers even though I usually don't dance. But the wine and the vodka were beginning to urge my bladder into action. I decided to find a bathroom.
When I stepped out of the room, several people were gathered and were looking outside. From the dastardly rain that had nearly dampened the entire event to the cheerful sunshine that followed, a rainbow had been produced. It was as defined a rainbow as I might have ever seen. Truly, a blessed omen for the newlyweds had been painted for the world to see.
As I was returning to my seat, Maciej (Joanna's cousin that had recently been working in Nashville and had come to visit us) called me over to his table to share a shot of vodka. I was happy to oblige; because, as I previously stated, I had an ulterior motive.
Over the past couple of years, per social media as I've already stated, I had come to know some of Joanna's family rather well. Some of them were really interesting people. I really liked them, and I had a secret plan to tell them as much at this wedding. I wanted to tell Katarzyna that she was an amazing artist; I was going to tell Wojech and his wife Joanna that they were amazing parents; I was going to Dominika that I loved seeing all of her fantastic missions of charity and education around the world; I wanted to tell Jimbo and Anna how glad I was that they were going to be Amelia's godparents and, so on and so forth. But, vodka got involved. Vodka fucked up everything.
Katarzyna was sitting beside Maciej, so I encouraged him to translate for me. I wanted to tell her that I thought she was an amazing artist. However, something morphed my sincere compliment into something else. Instead of saying, "I really admire your work!", I ended up shouting, "Oh my God, YOU'RE AWESOME!!! No, no.. you don't understand... you're AWESOME!!! No, no, no... you don't understand what I'm trying to say. You're artwork is... no, seriously, I think it's AWESOME!!!" I continued to express the sentiment for the next ten minutes, because I was utterly certain that she didn't understand what I was trying to say. And, as we all know, when expression fails, persistence prevails.
And so, I'm told, that's how my conversations went for the remainder of the night. Apparently, my mission to tell everyone how much I admired them had transformed into lengthy and unbridled shouts of "Oh my God, you're AWESOME!!!" And, apparently, I spared no one.
In my defense, however, I found out something a few days later. Allegedly, four "cousins" had been tasked with getting the "American" fucked up. I have no idea which four it was as nearly everyone in the room had encouraged me to have a "shot" with them. But somehow, the inebriating effects of fine, Polish spirits had dulled my plans for moderation. Even Joanna's insistence that I "quit for a while" was rather intelligently and logically countered with the rather brilliant argument that "you jesh don wan me to have eny fun!!!" To which Joanna replied, "Ok, fine. Keep drinking." I won that one!
I made my way back to our table where I continued my onslaught of adulation. Arek and Ewa, making their rounds to welcome everyone, arrived. I made sure to tell them how great they were and that they were great people that made a perfect couple. They were AWESOME!!!
Making another trip to relieve myself, I noticed that the door that I had been using to exit the ballroom was blocked. I couldn't open it. I walked further around to another door and made my way out that one. Once out of the room, I looked back to see what had obstructed the door and found that a crew of emergency personnel were busy tending to someone that was passed out on the floor. I left them to their work and continued to the restroom. Inside, a gentleman was seated on the floor next to the urinal; his back was propped against the wall. He swayed and looked up as I entered. Then, he greeted me with a winsome smile and a friendly wave. I smiled and waved back and found a free stall to do my business.
Back inside, I found our table. I made sure to tell a couple of its occupants how AWESOME they were, no seriously, they were AWESOME!!! A gentleman, part of the video-production crew, was making his way around the room. With a microphone in hand, he was getting people's opinions and well-wishes and stories about the newlyweds. As he approached me, someone translated that he wanted me to say a few words. 20,000 leagues under a sea of vodka, I thought it would be absolutely hilarious to just speak some random gibberish while this guy that didn't seem to understand a lick of English and was smiling encouragement. I took the mic and initiated the plan. "So, there was this cat and dog and the dog broke its leg, so a man flew from the second story of a building to save the dog but he couldn't because the cat and the dog ran away and no one knows where they are..." I rambled on a bit while my table neighbors laughed delightfully (at least, I thought they were).
I got up from the table and decided to...
"Duane, come on. We have to check out in thirty minutes." Joanna was shaking me. Roman was running around the room while Amelia was cackling. Where was I?
I tried to raise my head to look around. I couldn't move. My head was pounding, and a nausea squirmed around in my gut.
"Duane, come on. We don't have time for this. Get up!"
"What happened?" I asked meekly. "Where am I? How did I get here?"
"You came here last night. You were bouncing from wall-to-wall in the elevator. I think you are going to break it," my wife poignantly explained.
"I can't," I whispered hoarsely. "Just rent the room for another night. I'll pay for it..."
"I mean it, Duane. We have to take Arek's gifts to his apartment; he'll be here any minute. Just get in the car, and you can rest at the house."
"What happened? I don't remember anything..." I fell out of the bed and crawled to the bathroom. I felt sweaty and horrible; I needed a shower. I could throw up if I wanted to, but I hate throwing up. I considered the possibility that I might just feel better if I did, but decided against it.
After barely winning a fight with the shower curtain, I managed to take a quick refresher. Joanna was calling from the other room, "Come on, Duane. We have to hurry!" I tried to remember what happened the night before. I remembered saying some random stuff to a videographer; I would need to break into his place sometime later today and remove the evidence of my idiocy before it found its way onto Arek and Ewa's wedding video. I had this looming, dreadful feeling that I had a thousand apologies that I needed to issue before the day was finished. I just knew that I had done something horribly paramount, but I couldn't remember a fucking thing.
When I came out of the bathroom, Arek and Joanna were hauling gifts from the room. "What happened?" I asked Arek. "Polish wedding," he replied with a matter-of-fact smile.
I wanted to help them, but I couldn't stand. "Just go wait in the car," Joanna instructed.
I somehow managed to get to the car. In the passenger seat, I tried not to throw up. A bed with my name on it was thirty minutes away: an eternity. We took Arek to his place where they unloaded the car. On the way out of Krakow, we hit every single red light. The stop-and-go motion was wearing down what little composure I had remaining. My thoughts kept going to this future video where Arek and Ewa would be watching these beautiful orations and congratulations from friends and family when this loud, stupid American suddenly appears saying, "...and this cat and this dog had broke its leg and a man was flying from a building and..."
Later, Joanna would tell me that of the four cousins that had been tasked with fucking up the "American", I had outlasted two of them. So, I suppose 2 out of 4 ain't bad. I just wish I could remember it... Something evil had clawed away at the recollection parts of my cerebrum. I once read that alcohol doesn't impede one's memories; it keeps the brain from ever recording in the first place. Whatever had happened the night before was now lost in that cavernous hole in my memory dug by a dastardly villain.
Superman has Lex Luthor; Batman has the Joker; Luke Skywalker has Darth Vader. And me?
Well, I have Polish vodka...
Don't forget to like Parenting with Lightsabers here.
Also, if you enjoyed this, try reading our How-We-Met story starting with "Chapter 1 - The Tea Monster".
Blogger's Note: I failed. I tried. But I failed.
I had the best of intentions; I felt certain that I was going to be ok this time. I really did. But I failed.
Oh, hell, I'll get to that in a minute. First...
We've decided on a vacation destination. The process was quite a roller coaster ride. Our first decision was to join Arek and Ewa and friends on their post-wedding trip to Hungary. We'd visit the wine caves in the north country, go camping, and, then, we'd go to Budapest for an excursion. Then, we'd end up in Vienna, Austria on the way home for a little side trip. But, that trip got cancelled...
So we decided we'd go to a travel agency. And we found options for Rodos, Greece or Cyprus or, even, Turkey...
But, we'd been to Greece. If I'm on a mission to see the world, then wouldn't another trip to Greece defeat the purpose? But the price was right... and we did love Crete...
And Turkey is a Muslim country. How comfortable would I feel as an American on vacation in a Muslim country. As comfortable as I was in Egypt? Yeah, I think I'll pass...
So, then we found a reasonable deal to the Canary Islands. The Spanish-owned islands just off the northwest coast of Africa looked appealing, but they offered no side trips, no excursions. And I want to see things and do things, not just lay on the beach all day. Not to mention, apparently, there's something called the Canary Current that brings cold water from the depths of the ocean to the shores of the Canary Islands. Apparently, the water there is unusually cold. And who wants to swim in cold water? Certainly not me...
So, we talked to some friends. And everyone seems to like Croatia. The smooth pebble beaches in the north are just a hop, skip, and jump from Venice, Italy or the sandy beaches in the south offer some of the most beautiful beaches in the world. We had a decision to make. Should we drive 14 hours, nearly to Dubrovnik and stay at some of the most scenic beaches in the world and be within an hour's drive from some historic locations? Or should we drive 8 hours to the less-scenic, northern beaches, but add a side trip to Venice into the mix? We would get Arek and Ewa's opinions. They had been to both places.
They said either decision would be ok, but Arek knew of a website where we could find a truly stellar vacation. Show us! we insisted. And so he did...
And he found something stellar, indeed...
For half the price that he had been willing to pay just a few months ago, we could drive to Warsaw and fly two hours to Sardinia, Italy. Sardinia is a small island about the size of Crete; some of its beaches were voted the most beautiful in the world. When I saw the pictures, I got goose-bumps. This would be the place of my next vacation. And there are all kinds of archaeological ruins to explore. And new foods to eat. And beaches to relax on. And Italian wine. And topless wom... well, anyway, you get the idea...
So, we've bought the soft all-inclusive package. What does soft mean? Alcohol is not included (except one glass of wine with your meal), but that doesn't bother me. My experiences with resorts and alcohol is that there hardly is any alcohol in the all-inclusive resorts' drinks. We had learned a few tricks over the years. Aside from bringing some of our own, just tip good. The bartenders aren't used to getting American-style tips. So they will hook you the fuck up... Or you could just bypass getting alcohol at all and just buy your own somewhere else. That's what we would do this round...
Assuming, of course, that I want to get fucked up. I mean, after what happened the other night at the wedding, maybe I should show a bit of discretion. Let's get to that...
If you haven't noticed, I started writing this quite some time ago. In Italy, I didn't really have WIFI access. Once we got back to Poland, we only had a couple of days to wrap things up before we were heading home. And, then, once we got home, I just couldn't get out of the jet lag funk for some reason. As a matter of fact, I would say that only in the past couple of days have I felt back to 100%.
So now I've got a bit of writing to do. Fortunately, I did do something right. While we were on the plane, I outlined all of our experiences in Italy. Over the next few posts I plan to share our Sardinian adventure with you. I expect writing about what happened there to be easy since I've got the blueprint all ready to go. Please, stay with me...
Listening to: Jessie Ware "Wildest Moments"
I had a bit of a sore throat. I woke up that morning thinking, 'Dammit! I need to be 100% for a Polish wedding. This sucks!'
But my sore throat wouldn't be responsible for any of my wrongdoings. As it turned out, Polish vodka kills a sore throat after one shot. Unfortunately, I cannot blame my sore throat for my actions.
The wedding would be at 3pm in Krakow (which was a bit early for the typical Polish wedding). We started getting ready around noon; and, I must say, we were all looking pretty spiffy once the time to leave had arrived.Sitting near the front door waiting for us was someone I thought I recognized from mine and Joanna's wedding. He had been our driver.
Łukasz (as I found out later was his name) looked like a character from Jersey Shore. He had tan skin, spiky hair, sunglasses, and a large, chest tattoo that he left exposed by keeping the top buttons of his shirt undone. My first impression of him wasn't great. I would soon find out how wrong I was...
After loading in the van and getting about ten miles down the road, Joanna realized that she had forgotten Arek's and Ewa's gifts. We had to turn around, and we were worried that we would be running late. Łukasz didn't complain; he sped us back to Kalwaria to retrieve the gifts.
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| Łukasz |
Later that night, during the reception, Łukasz would be transporting guests safely to and from the ceremony. He ran to McDonald's to get Roman some chicken nuggets when the wedding food wasn't to our four-year-old's liking. He went to get Magda's son to give Roman a playmate when he got bored. He was, by every definition, a pro.
Łukasz was a professional wedding driver. No, seriously. That's his job How cool is that? As well as the Madej choice for getting home...
At the cathedral in Krakow, a hard rain had just drenched the city streets; but, the sun was beginning to peek out. Arek's and Ewa's families had begun to file inside, and the pews were beginning to fill. They handed us the rings on one of those decorative pillows; Roman was supposed to be the ring bearer. Joanna handed me the prop while she tried to ready our son for the task (he was acting rather nervous, and we feared that he wouldn't be able to do it).
Arek finally appeared, regally sporting his tux, and striding toward the altar with that strange mix of uncertainty and confidence that nearly-weds regularly employ. We stood as someone began to sing in either Polish or Latin (I wouldn't know) amid a cascading organ and haunting violin that floated through fluted columns and humbling archways. Cameramen and -women worked around the audience and the decorations with professional steps, staying clear of our view but catching the tender, fleeting moments like one might catch a firefly. We traded looks among ourselves and our families and the groom-to-be as the bridal march brought us to our feet and caused me again to the look at the rings that were about to be hollow for the last time in a lifetime. I remained responsible for the rings during the majority of the ceremony, and I felt relevant to the service (even though they just happened to end up in my hands). As it became clear that Roman wasn't going to be able to do his responsibility (he was just too nervous), Ewa's brother politely offered to bring the rings to the couple-of-the-hour.
A Catholic chant led by the priest and echoed by (most) of the audience brought us together in observance. And the service began...
Although I didn't understand the Polish oration, the ceremony appeared to go flawlessly. Amelia began to grow restless, and I volunteered to take her into the side corridor that was hidden from view. After she convinced me that she wasn't content even there, we relocated to the entrance. From there, I could soothe her with talk or toys; and, I could watch everything unnoticed.
I enjoyed my new post from which I could see everything. From the proud and caring families to the amused and joyful friends, a momentous occasion was being etched into the memories of everyone I saw. I was excited and happy.
Like the opening scene to a heartwarming romance, Arek and Ewa walked into a drizzle of pastel confetti in a manner that suited their very authentic love for life. I held Amelia in one tired arm and was snapping pictures with my freed arm, determined to capture the beautiful moment.
The entire family congregated in front of the cathedral for a group picture before we loaded into the van to be transported a handful of blocks to the hotel where the reception would be held.
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| Magda and Marcin |
After Arek and Ewa arrived, we filed up the stairs where we were handed flutes of champagne to toast and the celebration began.
The room was extravagant. One wall was a window that gave a spectacular view of the Vistula River that was flowing under the bridges of Kazimierz. I could see the one that was covered by padlocks where lovers declared their commitment to one another by putting a lock on the rail and tossing the key into the river.
We found our table and discovered that we would be eating with Magda, Magda, Magda, (a different) Arek, Marcin, Jimbo, and his expecting wife Karolina. One of the Magda's (Joanna's cousin) and her husband Marcin were comfortable table neighbors. They had lived in London for quite some time and spoke perfect English. I knew them pretty well from other Madej festivities, and I knew that they were my kind of people.
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| Magda, Magda, and (the other) Arek |
The table was set with red and white wine, water, Pepsi, and, oh, yeah, you guessed it... vodka. This time, the brand was Wyborowa. Maybe it would treat me better than Pan Tadeusz. Maybe...
As we waited for the food to be served, Roman found a girl about his age and became the first to hit the dance floor. We were watching him as the first round arrived. A starter of salmon (one of my favorite foods) was sat in front of us. The room quietened as we commenced eating.
I had planned on cataloging the food (for my blog) as it was presented. But something muddled my memory rather well that night. Suffice it to say that the food was simply amazing; and, of course, it never quit coming. We ate until we just couldn't eat anymore.
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| Roman and his date |
I returned to the table where rounds of vodka were being consumed. I felt like I was doing ok. I was hardly buzzed, and the vodka-drinking was going better than I thought it would. Marcin began giving me some friendly advice on how to overcome the ever-vicious vodka hangover. He insisted I drink a large glass of water periodically. I tried to heed his advice; but, as it would turn out, I'd forget much of anything that was said that night.
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| The rainbow |
When I stepped out of the room, several people were gathered and were looking outside. From the dastardly rain that had nearly dampened the entire event to the cheerful sunshine that followed, a rainbow had been produced. It was as defined a rainbow as I might have ever seen. Truly, a blessed omen for the newlyweds had been painted for the world to see.
As I was returning to my seat, Maciej (Joanna's cousin that had recently been working in Nashville and had come to visit us) called me over to his table to share a shot of vodka. I was happy to oblige; because, as I previously stated, I had an ulterior motive.
Over the past couple of years, per social media as I've already stated, I had come to know some of Joanna's family rather well. Some of them were really interesting people. I really liked them, and I had a secret plan to tell them as much at this wedding. I wanted to tell Katarzyna that she was an amazing artist; I was going to tell Wojech and his wife Joanna that they were amazing parents; I was going to Dominika that I loved seeing all of her fantastic missions of charity and education around the world; I wanted to tell Jimbo and Anna how glad I was that they were going to be Amelia's godparents and, so on and so forth. But, vodka got involved. Vodka fucked up everything.
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| Magda and Marcin |
And so, I'm told, that's how my conversations went for the remainder of the night. Apparently, my mission to tell everyone how much I admired them had transformed into lengthy and unbridled shouts of "Oh my God, you're AWESOME!!!" And, apparently, I spared no one.
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| Arek and Ewa |
I made my way back to our table where I continued my onslaught of adulation. Arek and Ewa, making their rounds to welcome everyone, arrived. I made sure to tell them how great they were and that they were great people that made a perfect couple. They were AWESOME!!!
Making another trip to relieve myself, I noticed that the door that I had been using to exit the ballroom was blocked. I couldn't open it. I walked further around to another door and made my way out that one. Once out of the room, I looked back to see what had obstructed the door and found that a crew of emergency personnel were busy tending to someone that was passed out on the floor. I left them to their work and continued to the restroom. Inside, a gentleman was seated on the floor next to the urinal; his back was propped against the wall. He swayed and looked up as I entered. Then, he greeted me with a winsome smile and a friendly wave. I smiled and waved back and found a free stall to do my business.
Back inside, I found our table. I made sure to tell a couple of its occupants how AWESOME they were, no seriously, they were AWESOME!!! A gentleman, part of the video-production crew, was making his way around the room. With a microphone in hand, he was getting people's opinions and well-wishes and stories about the newlyweds. As he approached me, someone translated that he wanted me to say a few words. 20,000 leagues under a sea of vodka, I thought it would be absolutely hilarious to just speak some random gibberish while this guy that didn't seem to understand a lick of English and was smiling encouragement. I took the mic and initiated the plan. "So, there was this cat and dog and the dog broke its leg, so a man flew from the second story of a building to save the dog but he couldn't because the cat and the dog ran away and no one knows where they are..." I rambled on a bit while my table neighbors laughed delightfully (at least, I thought they were).I got up from the table and decided to...
"Duane, come on. We have to check out in thirty minutes." Joanna was shaking me. Roman was running around the room while Amelia was cackling. Where was I?
I tried to raise my head to look around. I couldn't move. My head was pounding, and a nausea squirmed around in my gut.
"Duane, come on. We don't have time for this. Get up!"
"What happened?" I asked meekly. "Where am I? How did I get here?"
"You came here last night. You were bouncing from wall-to-wall in the elevator. I think you are going to break it," my wife poignantly explained.
"I can't," I whispered hoarsely. "Just rent the room for another night. I'll pay for it..."
"I mean it, Duane. We have to take Arek's gifts to his apartment; he'll be here any minute. Just get in the car, and you can rest at the house."
"What happened? I don't remember anything..." I fell out of the bed and crawled to the bathroom. I felt sweaty and horrible; I needed a shower. I could throw up if I wanted to, but I hate throwing up. I considered the possibility that I might just feel better if I did, but decided against it.
After barely winning a fight with the shower curtain, I managed to take a quick refresher. Joanna was calling from the other room, "Come on, Duane. We have to hurry!" I tried to remember what happened the night before. I remembered saying some random stuff to a videographer; I would need to break into his place sometime later today and remove the evidence of my idiocy before it found its way onto Arek and Ewa's wedding video. I had this looming, dreadful feeling that I had a thousand apologies that I needed to issue before the day was finished. I just knew that I had done something horribly paramount, but I couldn't remember a fucking thing.
When I came out of the bathroom, Arek and Joanna were hauling gifts from the room. "What happened?" I asked Arek. "Polish wedding," he replied with a matter-of-fact smile.
I wanted to help them, but I couldn't stand. "Just go wait in the car," Joanna instructed.
I somehow managed to get to the car. In the passenger seat, I tried not to throw up. A bed with my name on it was thirty minutes away: an eternity. We took Arek to his place where they unloaded the car. On the way out of Krakow, we hit every single red light. The stop-and-go motion was wearing down what little composure I had remaining. My thoughts kept going to this future video where Arek and Ewa would be watching these beautiful orations and congratulations from friends and family when this loud, stupid American suddenly appears saying, "...and this cat and this dog had broke its leg and a man was flying from a building and..."
Later, Joanna would tell me that of the four cousins that had been tasked with fucking up the "American", I had outlasted two of them. So, I suppose 2 out of 4 ain't bad. I just wish I could remember it... Something evil had clawed away at the recollection parts of my cerebrum. I once read that alcohol doesn't impede one's memories; it keeps the brain from ever recording in the first place. Whatever had happened the night before was now lost in that cavernous hole in my memory dug by a dastardly villain.
Superman has Lex Luthor; Batman has the Joker; Luke Skywalker has Darth Vader. And me?
Well, I have Polish vodka...
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Also, if you enjoyed this, try reading our How-We-Met story starting with "Chapter 1 - The Tea Monster".
