More Wedding Pictures Part 1

The Wedding Story

Bethanie and I talked about marriage well before I ever proposed. I’ve known that we should be married. But it wasn’t the being married or even the getting married part that made me nervous. It was the planning to get married that had me concerned: where, when, who to invite, announcements, invitations, and the 100 other things that seem to pop up during the process. We kept checking things off of our to-do list, but it never got shorter. We had lists in each of our planners, on odd bits of paper. Napkins over lunch would be scrawled with more responsibilities and questions to answer. The lists not only got longer, but also seemed to multiply into other lists. One list included catering. Now we had a new list for what to have catered. Same with drinks, decorations and so on. I’m not complaining, but it was more than my mind could handle. On top of all this, we were planning it from Poland.

With Bethanie taking the reins and incredible support from our families back in the states we somehow managed. We designed our own invitations, got them printed, and mailed them two months before the wedding. Unfortunately, the US and Polish mail systems don’t seem to work well together. Some of the invitations took up to ten weeks to arrive. I got more than one email after the wedding that said an invitation had just been placed in their post box. That was probably one of the biggest problems in our planning process. However, we did manage to sort out our attire, and we were constantly trying to manage around the seven-hour time difference between Austin/Tulsa and Katowice to discuss details over the phone.

That’s where the real action was happening: in Tulsa. People were running around crazy. I don’t know when anyone found time to sleep. Bouquets, cakes, candles, centerpieces, colors, dates, décor, flowers, guests, how many people?, invitations still haven’t arrived?, lists, location, Monday won’t work, pink but not too pink – that’s the way she wants it.

We flew into Austin for a too-brief-four-day visit. Saw the fam and a few friends. Not enough time. Josh (my bro) and I did manage a few jam sessions. I’ve been working on my harmonica and he’s been playing guitar for years. Also squeezed in some good Mexican food – I forgot how good it is – some micro-brewed beer and a trip to the Green Belt. As I left Austin, I think one of my last conversations was with my brother a.k.a. my best man. Me: “Get your suit soon.” Him: “I will tomorrow.” One week to go and still no suit. But I wasn’t worried. He took care of it and looked great.

And then up to Tulsa. We spent most of that week at Kathi’s house, running errands and trying not to come completely unhinged – really, just looking forward to the day after the wedding – all the time with a thought tugging at the back of my mind telling me that I should really be enjoying this.

A couple days before the wedding Grandpa, Grandma and Badri made it in from California. That was cool. Got to hang with them and drink a lot of good coffee and chai. And just sit and talk. I really enjoyed that time.

On June 29, the day before the day, the wedding party headed out to Skelly Lodge for our rehearsal. It was our first time to the lodge. We had heard great reviews from Kathi and David, who had each visited the site and decided it was the best place for us. Despite the overwhelming number of animal heads, stuffed fish, and paintings of nude Indian women on the walls, it was a great place to get married. The scene was beautiful – the two-story, eight-bedroom B&B overlooked the Verdigris River valley. We could hear the rush of the river and see the fog rising from the forest. We walked the grounds and then walked through the procession. We rehearsed it twice outside and then headed indoors for one more run through – had to be ready for rain. It had rained something like 28 days straight, as everyone was reminding us.

After the rehearsal, we all headed to Kathi’s for the rehearsal brunch, which my mom had excitedly agreed to plan and host. Originally we were going to have our rehearsal brunch at McNellie’s Pub. We thought it would be easier and save a few bucks if we just had a little bagel brunch instead.

The conversation with my mom, when I told her the change of plans, went something like this: Mom, we’d like to have a rehearsal brunch at Kathi’s instead of a pub dinner. | Well, okay. To be honest, I was never a big fan of the pub anyways. I just went with it because that’s what you wanted. | Cool. But it’s not that I don’t like the pub idea, I just think this will be easier and save us some money. But I want to ask you to still be in charge of it. | Okay. What does that mean? | You know – organize it. Basically, get the food together. I was thinking something like bagels and cream cheese. Just something simple. | No, no, no, no. We can do better than that. Your grandmas and I will take care of it. Don’t worry. | Great. That sounds great. But really I just want it simple – a little bagels and cream cheese, juice. You know … simple. | (Yelling over her shoulder) Mom, Bhadri wants us to organize a rehearsal brunch for him and he says we just wants bagels. I told him we can do better than that. | (Granny’s response) He wants bagels? It’s his wedding and he wants bagels? No way! You tell him to leave it to us. | (Mom back to me) Don’t worry, honey, we will make it great. | Mom, just keep it simple. | Don’t you trust us? | Yes. | Then trust us and we will take care of it. | Just keep it simple. | I gotta go, honey. It will be great. We are going to blow your mind. Love ya.

Simple. I just wanted simple. Well, simple wasn’t what I got. After getting lost on the way to Tulsa, turning an eight-hour drive into twelve, Granny Norma, Grandma Betty, Nicole and mom stayed up into the early hours of the morning cooking at the apartment they rented for the weekend. They must have been dead tired, but they were cooking for the brunch. And when I walked into Kathi’s dining area after the rehearsal I was amazed. The dining table had a beautiful floral centerpiece and bagels and cream cheese … and sliced meats, sliced cheeses, croissants, fruit salad, peach halves stuffed with cottage cheese and olives, a tiered dessert tray with cheese cake bites and more that I’m sure I’m forgetting. The tables in the back yard were colorful, each with their own bouquet centerpieces. And Beth’s and my glasses were wearing a veil and a tux, respectively. I didn’t get simple. But what I did get was amazing. My family came through in a big way and I am so grateful. Everyone had a great time. That night the Verduzco’s did all get to the pub for a pint after all. It was a great day.

Finally, June 30, 2007 arrived. I woke up at David’s (Beth’s dad’s) apartment. I wasn’t going to see Bethanie until just before the wedding for photos. I picked up Josh in the early afternoon and we went to the driving range. Hit some balls. Just trying to calm my nerves. Had a good talk. Ate some greasy French fries. Headed to Skelly Lodge. Stay calm. Stay calm. Did some stretching and just tried to act as calm as I could. Mom gave me a small glass of orange juice spiked with vodka unbeknownst to me. I took one sip and nearly threw up. After Poland, I can’t do vodka any more. Josh and I did some stretching before he got his haircut and I went to get ready. It was 5 pm on the day of my wedding. The ceremony was at 7 and Nicole was cutting Josh’s hair on the upstairs porch. The idea of it still makes me laugh. But that’s how we roll.

Mom helped me put on my Guinness cuff links. Bethanie was getting ready with her sister. Guests started to arrive. The photographer, Evan (who would later confess to being called Ian, Ethan and Ivan, among other names throughout the night), arrived and was snapping away.

It did rain. People scrambled to get chairs inside. And we stared a little after 7. The band, Hot Club of Cowtown, generously arranged by David Erwin, was ready to go. I asked them to play something weddingish. And they took care of everything. That gives you an idea of how we looked at a lot of the details of the wedding. We just trusted people and knew everything would be okay. And it was.

Debra, our officiator, who was recommended by David, and was great, led the procession. She descended the stairs, took a u-turn up the short aisle and waited for me in front of the fireplace. Once she was out of sight I remember thinking when should I go. I didn’t know if she was trying to calm the crowd or beginning the ceremony. Then I, escorting Kathi and my mom, descended the stairs, and were greeted by a full room of friends, family and smiles. I loved the idea of escorting my mom and Bethanie’s mom. It was unusual, but to me wasn’t even a choice. That’s how it was supposed to be. Josh and Molly walked the aisle next, looking great. Josh joined me. He was smiling big with that patented Josh smile. Olivia, our flower girl, proceeded down the aisle next. And along the way she dropped 5, literally, 5 rose petals. We later joked that she was saving them for the next few weddings that she’ll be in.

And then the music changed. The three-piece band started in on Somewhere Over the Rainbow, a song that David suggested and Bethanie thought would be perfect for her procession. The crowd rose to its feet. And Bethanie was gorgeous. Her dad and her slowly made their way down the aisle, trying to stretch it out as long as they could. At the end of the aisle, he raised her veil, they hugged and he gave her to me with a shake of the hand.

The ceremony went quickly, as we had hoped it would. It began and ended within 15 minutes. At the beginning of the ceremony Josh presented our rings and then they were passed around the audience. We liked the idea of the community being involved in the ceremony in this way. At one point the rings fell to the floor. Badri, wanting to make sure the rings made their way to Kathi on Bethanie’s side of the aisle, stood up to pass them over. They fell from his hands and one landed just behind us – from what I heard later it went under Bethanie’s train. I heard the rings fall, but at the time I had no idea that Badri was crawling around behind us searching for them on the floor. Eventually we did exchange rings and vows. We worked together to write vows that were special and unique for us. And I remember a specific moment during the ceremony when Beth said, “ … and I promise to play with you as much as I can …” that everyone, even Bethanie, broke into laughter. It was great. I managed to get through my vows, after an initial false start to fight back the tears. I just kept looking at Molly and Josh for support. They were great.

After the ceremony, we took portraits and Bethanie and I snuck a few moments alone upstairs. Then we descended the stairs and went to the porch for our first dance to “Paradise With You.” Unrehearsed, we did a nice little two-step, complete with a dip and a lift and spin and the end.

Then we moved on to dinner: a beautiful spread including a fruit and cheese sculpture, stuffed mushroom caps, salmon moose tartlets, bruscetta, and spinach pastries. The food was excellent. We had a little and made our rounds to say hello to everyone. Everyone was so supportive. And it was great to see everyone together. This is one of the few times in your life, Jeb pointed out, that everyone gets together to support you. It’s rare and wonderful.

After dinner we moved into speeches. I feel like the night was a rite of passage for Bethanie and me, but also for Josh and Molly. Josh began – he started with a joke, “Tonight Bhadri has finally realized something that I have known for a long time,” he said, as the room fell silent, “that I am the best man.” He continued with poise and confidence and finished his speech with words of advice, “Love each other with everything you have. It’s as simple and as difficult as that.” Molly’s smile filled the room. It was all a blur. But she spoke of how proud of Bethanie she was and how happy she is to be her sister. She later told us that she wanted to say, “The first time I meant Bhadri he hit me in the head with a Frisbee…” But her better judgment decided against it. I think it would have been funny.

“We’re going to do this next,” I said, gesturing to the cake. Beth and I had just been given instructions in the kitchen on how to cut the cake and we were ready. Grandma Grace Ann yelled, “Be respectful!” not wanting me to smear cake down Bethanie’s face. And we were. We fed each other the best cake ever, a cream cake with raspberry sauce and toasted with champagne.

From there the night was full of dancing and drinking. It began with a father/daughter and mother/son dance and finished with Whitney (my cousin) doing her best impression of a honky tonk knee-slapping hoe down at midnight. In between everyone got into the action as the band went on for 3+ hours. Grandma Grace, after hurting her knee only a few weeks earlier, wasn’t sure if she’d be able to dance. But her and Grandpa Frank cut a rug just as well as ever. They are the ones who taught me how to swing and Beth and I did plenty of it that night. When they played “Take Me Back to Tulsa (I’m too Young to Marry” the night was complete.

Back in the USA

Sue, Bhad's mom, picked us up at the Austin airport and shuffled us over to his brother Josh and his girlfriend Nicole's house to land. On the drive over, we stopped at a store to grab some local beer. Fireman's Four and Real Ale. When we arrived at Josh and Nicole's, we were greeted with big hugs and a delicious veggie meal. The beers were popped open and the party was on.

Bhad's been practicing his harmonica so he can jam with Josh when he got to Austin. He's gotten really good at it and I'm very impressed. He can improvise and make any song sound good. They're playing right now, in fact. With the guitar and the harmonica we have a band right here in the living room!

Josh and Nicole have two big dogs. Green and Violet. Do I sense a theme? They're adorable and after a few hours of "getting-to-know," Booster joined the big dog gang. He was terrified at first: goggled eyes, ears back, tail between legs, hunched back. But now he's sniffing and wiggling and provoking play time. It's good for the little man. And now he's got a posse. Violet is such a character--she'll let Josh do anything to her. Hence the sheep-carrying pose. She's the most loving dog I've ever met, always noozling you or putting her paw on your lap to say hello. Green is a total human. He's sitting on the couch people style, right now. He's so mature and he'll look at you with this, 'hey, what's up' face. They're all characters and Booster's absolutely loving the dog-company!

The Journey on the Aeroplane

I wrote this on the plane yesterday morning:

"In the air from Chicago to Austin. Thirty-something thousand feet. They put us on standyby for the direct 9:05am flight. The alternative was to catch the 9:55am to St. Louis and then on to Austin by 4:30pm.

We should've been in Texas last night if everything had gone as expected. As Tom, the operational supervisor at American Airlines, said: 'it's an act of God so it's not our problem.' He pleaded with us to blame God for the weather delay, not him, and to feel free to take up any concerns with the big man or AA.com.

We had to make a 12:00 flight from Krakow yesterday morning so we were up and out the door by 7:00am. The Hallo Taxi man was waiting cheerfully outside our door. This guy's one of my favorite drivers. I know most of them from my tri-weekly ventures to satellite schools and businesses.

Our train to Krakow was almost an hour late. Once in the Krakow airport, we waited and waited, three hours, in 'utter chaos' (as the flustered American couple put it). It really was utter chaos, although I prefer not to pass judgement on another culture for not being the same as my own. It's an easy outlet for disgruntlement, but it's unkind and unnecessary. I'll try to describe it as objectively as I can. Hundreds of people funnelling into a tiny space--the width of two, maybe three, people--to enter another area where you again had to squeeze into another section to wait. It felt like a sweaty and tense mirror maze. There was no tidy queue, no courtesies, just a mass of irritated travellers shoving for the best position and throwing angry glares at their new neighbors. It was all so primitive. It was survival.

As it turns out, it wasn't bad that our flight from Krakow was delayed as we learned once we passed through the hours of security. We wouldn't've made it to the plane on time anyway. But we were already tired and we hadn't even begun.

The flight was a-okay. There was no room in the first-class closet for my wedding dress or Bhad's suit, so we had to not-delicately-at-all cram them in the overhead compartment. The LOT stewardesses (I know it's politically incorrect, but I like the throw-back) were curt as usual, but we noticed major and recognizeable improvements in our Polish. The last trip we made on LOT airlines, we were struggling to keep the words for 'thank you' and 'good day' straight. Now we could communicate that we wanted tea with milk and no, no lemon thank you. We didn't get any cocked-head, confused looks, all was smooth as butter. Smooth as maslo. And Booster was a star. Didn't even make a whimper.

Our landing was delayed 30 minutes and it was terribly rocky. Tumultuous is the word. I was very nervous, I admit; the plane would drop and then seemingly catch itself every few seconds. 'What's the worst that could happen?' I kept asking myself. Oh, yes, we could all die. But we'll die anyway someday, right? So nothing we should worry about. I think I could do for better acceptance of death. It puts things into perspective and it's so real. It might sound obvious to say that death is real, but we do our best to ignore it everyday. But the reality is also that I like living, and conveniently we didn't die. The pilot got us on the ground and the passengers errupted in applause.

As we rushed off the plane that'd carried us across the Atlantic, the relief of the safe landing didn't last long. We immediately started to feel the urgency once again. We had to make our connection to Austin in just 40 minutes! The health and safety inspector needed to take a look at the pup's papers, but they took about 15 minutes trying to page an officer authorized to do it. We shot off towards the AA check-in area in terminal five the moment he cleared us to go.

When we arrived at the check-in, the man directing the people traffic said 'this line please, oh, I think that flight is cancelled,' as if someone had just asked him if he wanted sugar in his coffee and he'd responded 'sure.' I had the fantasy of him saying all of these traumatic or drastically exciting things in the same ambivilent tone. But the novelty of it dissapated into annoyance quickly. We were to meet this man, our buddy Tom, at the counter 30 minutes later.

As warned, our flight was cancelled. Due to weather, apparently. Every potential flight out of Chicago aimed at Texas--even one to D.C (?!)--were cancelled for the night. Tom offered with his broad, toothy smile 'if we wanted, we'd be more than welcome to stay in the public terminal overnight. The seats out there are quite comfy and there's a food court just upstairs [insert automatic smile here].' He also gave us the option, as he put it, of taking an indirect flight from Chicago to St. Louis to Austin, arriving at 4:30 in the afternoon the following day. We made the argument that our original flight was direct and we were not exactly happy with the exchange. Insert smile, shake head, sing-songy Chicago accent, and his power phrase: well, that's your opinion. He apologized for the inconvenience and said 'well, if there's nothing more I can do for you...' The word 'more' rallied every emotion in my body for battle and set me off. More you can do? More? But you would've had to do something in order to offer us more! 'That's all I can offer you, ma'am. I'm very sorry.' Smile, bigger smile.

I had to muster all the sense I had left to not start making wild judgements about Americans again. The saccarine sweet attitude Tom gave us, never giving us a direct answer but twisting it to make it look like it was the best situation possible for us, disgusted me. Why not just be honest and treat your customers, although they're customers, like humans? The toothy grins and chipper nods he perpetuated when he gave us the bad news was totally unbelievable. Unbelievable. What world are we in? What's wrong with him?

I was upset and exhausted and totally unable to make a clear decision. Bhads took charge and bought a hotel room at the Radisson with a discount voucher from the airline. It was still $80 (240pln!!!) and on principal I disagreed, but we really needed the rest.

The hotel was as comfy as a cloud. There was a nice clean bathtub with hot water in the pipes just asking to be released, internet access, TV showcasing a baseball game in all it's American glory. Booster let loose after being in his bag all day, I jumped into the bath, and Bhads ordered us a deep dish Chicago pizza from the famous Giordano's. I don't know if they're really famous, but they claimed to be so on the box. One third crust and sauce, two thirds cheeeeeese. There was so much cheese, I was almost grossed out. I love cheese. It's my favorite food. Practically any type of cheese. I'll eat it alone, with other foods, hot or cold. I could eat cheese for every meal. But this was almost too much. The call was simple, no language challenges. And we sipped on water from the tap--what a luxury!

Ah hah, descending into Austin now. Oh, hello cabin pressure and nausea...

We ate some of the left over pizza for breakfast and hopped the shuttle back to the airport to try to get a standby seat on the direct 9:05 flight. We got seriously lucky. Out of 39 people waiting on standby for an open seat, we were numbers one and two! We got seats next to each other without a problem. And they even had a closet to hang our wedding wares.

Oh, bumpy clouds. Maybe clouds aren't so comfy. We'll be in Austin in minutes. 95 degrees, clear skies and humid? Oh, the journey continues and it's time for a nap."

We Are Teachers

With the end of the year comes stress, sentimentality, and best of all, presents. Most of this past year I felt more like I was working at learning how to teach rather than really feeling like,
"hey, I'm a teacher." But the formula is easy: students give me presents, I feel like a teacher. I just remember the days when I'd get so excited to give my own teacher a little something to say thanks before jetting out of the class as fast as I could to a bright blue and newfound summer day. I was shocked to have my students presenting me with gifts this time. Me?! Could I be the teacher that they get excited to give a gift to before jetting outside? Even if the answer's no, I still felt like it and that's what counts. Presents are serious fun.

My adult class gave me an atlas for Poland. It's this huge book with super detailed maps of literally every inch of the country. It'll come in handy on our travels--very thoughtful, too. I blogged about them earlier so I won't go on again.

My teenagers at our satellite school Jankego, Martyna and Michal, gave me a bouquet of flowers. The rumor is that teenagers are miserable to teach, but this class totally disproves it. They are so lovely, they laugh at my stupid jokes, they say the cleverist things, and I really feel like I know them. Those IH scrabble champions made my year fun!


The kiddos at Jankego were so sweet. They gave me all kinds of goodies: flowers, a candle, a box of fancy chocolates. It was so cute the way they presented them to me. Rushing up to the teacher at the last minute like they'd been waiting all class, sticking their hands out with the gifts, and saying "here," then running off again. They're nothing short of adorable. I really know what my mom means now when she calls her students her children. They're pictured left to right with the play they wrote: (top) Aga, Gosia, Mieszko, Wiktor, (bottom) Dominika, Marta, and me.


Some of Bhad's teens from the satellite school in Siemianowice: Kuba and Anna. They're really cool kids and are well versed in the Bhadrisms. They joined at us the pub last week for their last class. We're trying to convince Kuba to check out St. Ed's for college next year. He's already suited up in his Texas gear, so the rest is easy.

Bhads also got a present from his one-to-one student. It really takes the cake. It's a purple, glass "diamond" the size of a fist. It looks just like a diamond, but it's massive. The woman bought it at a really nice store here in town, Rosenthal, and we can't really tell if it's functional (paperweight?) or if it's art. It's so cool in its randomness and I dig it.

So that's it for the year. We're heading back to Texas this Monday and there's loads to do. We are going to take a day to do absolutely nothing and enjoy it before it's back to work for the wedding. Ooh, it's all happening folks. Life is good!

Schooooool's Out for the Summer

Schoooool's out for the summer! Yesterday was our last day at IH Katowice. I ran around the teacher's room hunting down each person for a memorable and goofy photo. They're all such great people. It was really sad to say goodbye. But of course, we're all roamers and I'm sure we'll meet again. Happy Trails, everyone!

This is our lovely teacher's room, where Stephanie and Joanna use the miracle of light reflection to communicate.




Jo is not only a teacher, but she also a model in her spare time. Or maybe a body builder...? Look at those cheeks, baby. She's got all the moves!







Sabina is one of the sweetest and most genuine people I've ever met. She's our office manager, and she's amazing. I'm going to miss our wedding chat, but I can't wait to hang out in Wroclaw with her. We'll be newlywed couple friends -- ah, so 1950's!


Ooh, there's the Director of Studies at the stand-by board up to no good. Please, Bronwen, no summer stand-by slots!









Oh, I'll miss you smokers. Oh, I'll miss you smoker's balcony (note the sign). Piers and Jo, creating lasting friendships while creating lasting damage to their lungs. Ahh...

Croissants, Tieing the Knot, & Last Classes

I have 45 minutes before my next class. It's 4:30 pm and I've been here at school since 10:00 am. I have two classes tonight, which puts it at 10.5 hours for the day. Boogers, I'm tired.

For a bit of a pep-up, I walked down to Zabka--a tiny convenient store with, surprisingly, everything you could ever need. I thought I wanted a chocolate bar, but then I saw the beloved 7 Days Chocolate Croissant making eyes at me. These little devils are seriously delicious. We used to eat practically one a day during CELTA, so yes fond memories. They are buttery and soft with a dollup (never enough) of chocolate cream inside. They are packaged and oozing with preservatives and it makes them all the better! I bought one for Bhads, he loves them equally as much as I do, so when he gets out of his class he can have a tasty snack. But it's a real test: it's sitting there, about 3 feet away, waiting for Bhadri but giving me the same eyes it gave me in the shop, can I resist?

This reminds me of another predicament. When we were travelling back from Lviv, back during Easter break, we had a layover in a Polish-Ukrainian border town called Przemsyl. Lovely town. But as we strolled through town, we noticed the glow from inside Zabka (yet again). We went in and snatched up what but two 7 Days Chocolate Croissants. We ate them hastily...it left us unsatisfied. So we popped into a gas station a few blocks down the road and, yes, bought another pair of the delights. So here is the conclusion: one is good, but two is nasty. We felt so ill after eating the second one (and really, after half of the second one I knew I should quit, but...). We both were regretful and had that feeling that you know you just chose to do something oh-so wrong. So with this in mind, I think I'll pass on Bhad's croissant and allow him the pleasure.

We now have less than a week until we leave for America. It's pretty mind-blowing. We aren't mentally or physically or psychologically or anthingally prepared for it. Today, I'm finding it difficult to balance teaching with wedding planning. But we sure are plugging away and getting lots done for the wedding. A few biggies are still left up in the air, but we have a couple of weeks to sort things out. We had a look at possible vow and ceremony options yesterday, and it hit both of us hard. We were quite the couple, sitting in the coffee shop with our pages of options, me with red and teary eyes and Bhads gasping for breath. It's pretty powerful stuff, this marriage business. We've been so overwhelmed with school and all the details of the wedding that we haven't started to focus on what we'll say to each other or how the ceremony will go. As Gabi, one of our teachers, nicely put it: "Maybe the other stuff is here to distract us so we won't focus on the important stuff until it's the right time." I think she must be right.

I'm really going to miss some of my classes. Last night my class of post-advanced adults and I went to the pub for class. And they gave me a gift. Seriously, I felt like such a teacher! It's crazy how one little thing can make you feel like you've done a good job and it can justify all the stress. We stayed at the pub for a few hours, chatting about shelled animals (do crabs really have shells or just "armor" and do octopuses have a shell if it's inside their skin?), weddings, Silesia, and accents. It was lovely.

I brought my wedding dress home last Saturday. It was such a relief to have it at home. I was going through that unfinal anxiety and it's nice to feel like I have some control over it now. Yes, I need to feel control over my dress. Oh crap, what's happening to me?! I need another pub lesson.

A Misadventure to the Lake

I haven't blogged in a while, and I'm not even sure what I want to write as I sit here in the teachers' room of the school. The semester finishes this week. So pub lessons are on tap for the agenda. This means that for the last 90 minute lesson we head to the pub and have a beer with our students and just talk. I didn't get to have any pub lessons last semester because we joined the team so late in the term, and I'm really looking forward to the idea.

Yesterday we went to a nearby man-made lake called Pogoria or something close to that. After a 40 min. bus ride with our host for the day and friend Boz, we continued on foot for another 20 minutes to our destination. As we got closer hoards of people were walking in the opposite direction from us and the rain began to fall hard with lightning and thunder and the whole bit. But we figured we could walk back and get wet or continue to the lake and get wet so we pressed on. The lake was great. I didn't have any expectations, but it was really nice. Sandy beach and all. Apparently they used to mine sand there and when they were finished they filled the big whole with water instead of leaving it -- good idea. The lake is probably a mile wide. We sat beneath a large patio umbrella at the pub waiting for the sun to fully bloom and the rain to dissapear. After a couple of hours and a few pints the sun finally retuned. We finished the day with some volleyball and a quick wade into the the icy water. Booster passed the time digging in the sand, running around in a frenzy for a few seconds before digging again, sticking his nose in the hole and repeating the entire process again and again. Boz was brave enough to go for a swim while Beth, Booster and I only went in up to our ankles. My only regret is that I didn't have a speedo (that's all the men where here). I'll have to get one for the next time.

Our Schedules, Our Woes, Books, and Eurovision

We only have 12 more days until the end of term. And one of those days is reserved for parent meetings, of which, so far, neither Bhadri nor I have any scheduled. Oh, and I just remembered we have a monday in June that's a state holiday--Corpus Christi. Not just a city in Texas, apparently.

So I think I've been grinding my teeth at night. I wake up each morning with sore jaws and a headache, so process of deduction. Unless I'm waking up in the middle of the night and going out into the hallway to gnaw on the exposed pipes by the telephone. I've been totally exhausted lately. The black circles, no appetite, whole-head headaches. It's not too fun. But on the flip side, we do only have a few more weeks before vacation. It's been such a stressful time with the wedding planning, summer school organization (and Booster accomodation during it), new school getting for next year, moving to Wroclaw and when?!??, and alternative extras that we want to do but have no idea when we'll have time. Our students and friends, the Chyrowicz family, have invited us to spend 2 weeks with them in the middle of a primeival forrest in north-eastern Poland (near Belarus). We'd be hanging out in a forrester's cottage, no where near civilization, and it sounds so beautiful to me. There's a Yiddish culture and language seminar going on near Warsaw for 3 weeks, as well (starts the day after we'd leave from the forrest). It's an intensive language course with native speakers and with day trips to old, important cities/towns/places. It sounds like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity--how amazing would it be to study Yiddish in Poland? It's affordable, I think, but the only thing is: how can I voluntarily spend 3 weeks away from my new husband and dog-son? Wow, it's crazy to write that. Not dog-son, but new husband. AH! Excitingness! Anyways, Bhads thinks I should do it because it could be such an incredible experience...but we'll just have to see. Also, we are gonna need a honeymoon at some point. We pushed it back so we could do 2 weeks at an English language summer school up on an island in the Baltic Sea (off the coast of Gdansk). The money and experience would be good to have.

So, after that we'd have to move very quickly (and eh hem, find an apartment) to Wroclaw because our lease runs out here in early August. Then we'd meet the Chryowiczs in the forrest. Then I'd go to the Yiddish camp. Then we'd go on honeymoon to Hungary. Then we'd have a week or so before we start work in Wroclaw. I'm not sure if it's all do-able, and something will have to give.

It's gotten pretty hot here in the last few weeks. It's been in the 90s for you Fahrenheit lovers, and quite humid. It's really gorgeous when you're in the shade and the breeze is blowing, but if the sun is beating down, oh the sweat will be a pourin'. Air conditioning is a luxury that Poland doesn't value. We don't have any AC here at the school, so if you're in a classroom on the sunny side, prepare yourself for sweaty shirts and foreheads. Plus teenage boys here tend to stank (yes, I said: stank) even without the heat, so please keep us in your thoughts and prayers. Hah!

What else about life. Bhads has a major knot in his back. He made me stand on him this morning. I hate doing that. But he's pretty stressed too.


Booster is grand. He's been super cuddly lately, crawling up into my arms in the middle of the night and plopping down on my reading material. He's loving the sunny days from his cozy spot in the window, but we're realizing that he can't take the long walks we're used to. He gave Bhads a real look of: this is NOT cool, the other day. Bhads said it was such a human look.

I think it's time for a Red Bull. Or Rrrrraid Bool as the locals say.

...I'm spacing out...

Oh, another book recommendation. Our friend Piers loaned us a book. I'm sure you've probably all seen the movie or at least heard of the title. Everything is Illuminated. Well, I have to say, our buddy Kara was reading it before we left Austin and she was raving about how great it was. I was like, yeeeah, but the movie was so awesome I don't know how it could get any better. But, let me tell you, it's an incredible read. It's so dynamic and the characters are hilarious and so genuinely human and I'm obsessed with it now. I can't read it enough. The details are so quirky and super-funny (I'm positive I've missed so many subtle and clever parts. I'll have to read it again and try to catch them), and the storyline is so beautifully told. I just can't say enough good about it. It's actually pretty different from the movie, of course, but I guess I didn't expect it. If you need a good summer book, I recommend it.*

This weekend we went over to Piers' apartment for a Eurovision Song Contest party. I'd never really heard about this phenomena until this year, when all the UK teachers were raving about it. For some reason I can't get the photo to copy, but please click this link (it's the winner crankin' it out for the Serbian hometeam): http://www.eurovision.tv/images/stories/galleries/First_rehearsal_of_Serbia/target2.html

Also, please (for humor's sake) click on this link for my own vote, Ukraine: http://www.eurovision.tv/images/stories/galleries/Germany_and_Ukraine/target3.html

*The author apologizes for the constant stream of book recommendations, but she wants to make it clear that she really likes these books and really likes her friends and family and really wants them to like these--and other--books as well.

Greeetings From Poland

I've been making time for a little graphic design lately. I even got a small freelance assignment on the side which was nice. Another teacher is starting up a translating business and asked me to make a poster. It was fun.

And that got me on a kick. So I've been doing much less reading lately. I stayed up a few nights ago until 3 in the morning playing with this cow. I've been tired since, but had a fun time with it. I really just wanted to dispell the old myth that cows in Poland are different from those elsewhere around the world. Wherever I go I keep hearing about this. And it's just plain wrong! This illustration is to scale and is both scientifically, factually and anatomically correct for its age. No bones necessary. Fact. The heat produced by the digestion keeps the cow inflated.

This is Booster

Rare Photos of the Bs

Because one of us is usually behind the camera, we don't have many pictures of the two of us together. Our friend, Grant, took some photos of us while we were out hiking in the mountains a couple of weeks ago. We liked seeing our faces face-to-face, and we hope you do too.

Wroclaw, Wroclaw Here We Come...

I'm happy to report that we've been offered jobs in Wroclaw, Poland, next year. Yippee! We visited the city a few months ago and found it lovely with lots of coffee, fresh poppy seed pastries, culture, little copper elves scattered and hidden across the city, and a gorgeously gorgeous old town. It'll be fun to be in a beautiful city again.

We've decided that it's not that terrible living in Katowice. It's very nice and green and lively with all of the outside cafes and flowers that've popped up all over town. But something about Katowice feels shallow. There's not the history here that's in other towns. Most of the restaurants and bars feel like they're trying to be Western/American, but that's not too charming.

It should be a new, Polish adventure. We're pretty excited!

Baron Rogacizna's Dinner

This is a play that my 9 year old students wrote yesterday. I'm really proud--they did it all by themselves! So I present: Baron Rogacizna's Dinner

Characters:
The monkey: Baron Rogacizna
The Bananas: Molly, Chiquita, & Zdzislaw
The Parrot: Johan
The man: Jaszu

[The story opens with three bananas, Molly, Chiquita, and Zdzislaw, hanging in a shop window. A man enters, looking to buy bananas...]
Jaszu: Three bananas, please.
Molly and Zdzislaw: Oh, no!
[The man buys the three bananas, Molly, Chiquita, and Zdzislaw.]
Chiquita: I hear a truck...
Zdzislaw: I don't like trucks.
[The man takes the bananas and puts them into his truck. The don't know where they are, but a minute later the truck door opens. They are at the zoo, and a big monkey named Baron Rogacizna is waiting for his bananas.]
Molly: Oh no, it's Baron Rogacizna and he wants to eat us!
Chiquita and Zdzislaw: Please, help us!
Baron Rogacizna: Raaaaarrrrr, I'm very hungry, and I want to eat a banana!
Molly, Chiquita, and Zdzislaw: Help! Help us!
[Baron Rogacizna, is about to eat the bananas. But the bananas see a parrot flying towards them.]
Zdzislaw: Oh, it's a super parrot. He wants to save us!
Chiquita: It's Super Johan!
Johan: I want to help you!
Baron Rogacizna: They're my bananas, Johan, they're MY bananas!
[Johan the Parrot flies down and takes the bananas. Molly and Zdzislaw sit on his back, and Chiquita sits on his head.]
Johan: Thank you, Baron Rogacizna.
Baron Rogacizna: Rarrrrrrrrr, they're MY bananas!
Molly, Chiquita, and Zdzislaw: Thank you, Johan.
Johan: You're welcome.
Johan, Molly, Chiquita, and Zdzislaw sing: We are the Champions, we are the champions...

Beskid Business

May 1st and 3rd are state holidays in Poland. This year they fell on Tuesday and Thursday, respectively, so most people got a whole week of vacation (or at least 3 days like we did). The first of May was the Communist Labor Day (a day off work to honor the proletariat), and although the city streets don't host the parades and festivals they used to during the Communist days, people still get the day off. May 3rd is the day the Polish constitution was inacted. The two holidays aren't really connected, as far as I can tell. Polish history has been so tumultous, and it's consolation prize is lots of days off work. Not too shabby.

During our vacation, we went hiking in the Beskidy--the mountain range south of Katowice, on the Slovakian border. Bhads, Booster, and our friend Grant, joined me on the longest and hardest hike of my life.

31 kilometers (about 20 miles) stretched over two days. I'm pretty proud we did it. I'd never tried or succeeded in doing anything that hardcore, so I was fairly skeptical that I could get over that next ridge in one piece. Some of the mountains were very steep, but I did my best to let all my anxieties go. Even after the hostel at Mlada Hora turned us away two hours before sunset (they were booked up, but generally turning people away at all is frowned upon), I still knew we had nothing to worry about. They'd made us tea to keep us going; it was good tea, too, so that was kind of them. But images of shelters in ditches, covered with evergreen braches for warmth, flickered through my thoughts (and funnily enough, through Bhad's thoughts at the same time!); I knew we'd survive the night whether we found beds in Soblowka, the village at the bottom of our mountain, or if we had to rig something up in the hills. I was all just a part of the adventure.

The hike was really wonderful. Day One we ended up in Soblowka, after taking the emergency detour down the mountain in search of warm beds and a cold beer. Of course, everything always, always works out. Always. We arrived in Soblowka, and were a bit stunned. On the map the community looked like a veritable town, but when the trail turned into cement and opened up our view, there was no doubt: Soblowka is a village. Maybe 25 houses scattered across the side of the hill, smoke billowing from chimneys, horses neighing, cats scurrying. We checked out the map at the trail's end and saw no hostels or guesthouses or hotels on it. We started to walk down the main drag, and found ourselves knocking on the door of a short, plump woman's house. A sign read: Noclegi, Zapraszamy! and a telephone number. Having no clue what "noclegi" meant, I knew "zapraszamy" was "we welcome you." So our chances of finding a place were getting better. I didn't catch her name (something like Babcia?) but her sparkling eyes and pink circles of cheeks left an impression. She asked where we were from, we answered, and she responded by clutching her chest and exclaiming with gusto, "America! Ah, America." We were in.

Unfortunately, she said, she didn't have any rooms available. Holiday week. But she would happily call her friends and they come and give us a lift to their place for the night. "Jedno noc, tak? Tylko jedno noc?" She wanted to make sure we needed to stay only for a night.

Accomodation was being arranged and priorities had shifted to, well, beer. What's a hike in the mountains if you can't have a local pint at the end of the day? So, knowing that the village shop was open for just another 10 minutes, Bhad jetted down the street in search of Tyskie.

A few minutes later, Grant and I, standing on the old wooden porch deciphering a guest's map, saw Bhadri sprinting down the road, beer in tow. He kept running and running, passing the driveway to the house. Grant yelled to him with a hey-you-idiot-we're-right-here tone, but Bhads screamed back--still running--"Shut up!" As he jogged up the houses' back entrance, Bhad swore something in between breaths about a crazy drunk man, shaking his head and saying "what the hell?" He told us that the store was being "guarded" by ten liquered-up, mountain men. One of them took it as duty to chase Bhads down, stumbling after him, clenching his fists and yelling after him in a gruff Polish tongue. Bhad successfull alluded him, the reason for running past the house, and avoided a mountain brawl.

We waited for our accomodation beholders to arrive, and the sweet woman with the pink cheeks served us a most delicious three course meal. Veggie soup with noodles, kompote, meat cutlets with mashed potatoes, gravy, and bigos, and a majestic apple dessert. Confession: I ate the meat. The whole meal had meat in it, bar soup and dessert, and I was starving. Yes, I'm making excuses because I feel slightly guilty, but to be honest I wouldn't have had it any other way. The meal was perfect and thank you, a hundred times blessed animal, for the nurishment!

The door of the basement eating area opened as we were rounding off the dessert course. Bhads face twisted confusedly as a short, balled lumberjack walked into the room, a clean-cut man with a character-filled moustache by his side.

"That's the man who chased me down the road!" Bhad whispered to me out of the side of his mouth. "What is going on?"

The moustached gentleman approached our table and extended his hand. He was the shop owner who, notified by our lovely pink cheeked host, came to apologize for the hostile encounter. Piotrek, the owner, shook our hands, said a sturdy, "Przpraszam," and let our small lumberjack take a turn. The little man shook Grant's hand, kissed mine (!), and then took Bhad's hand, placed it on his forehead and bowed, repeating "Przpraszam, przpraszam..." Standing up, bowing, standing up, bowing. He was like a scolded puppy, he seemed so sorry for his behavior, trying to make amends through his intense and sorrowful eyes. In his confusion as well as his good nature, Bhad echoed the guesture and said, "it's really not a problem..."

As it turns out, the village of Soblowka is really much smaller even than it looks. Piotrek ended up being the man who our pink cheeked host had called to put us up for the night. He waited patiently for us to finish our meal, then gave us a ride to his family's home.

A crew of smiling Poles, in varying sizes and ages, greeted us at their door. They were so cheerful and quite inquisitive. Hannia, the mom, Ola, the teenage daughter, Tomek, the boy, Marysia, the Grandma, and Bronek, the Gramps. We put our things down in our room (wow! 3 beds and a table in a real home in the mountains!), and went back downstairs to chat with the fam. As we plopped down at their kitchen table, the family gathered 'round to talk. Hannia made us hot cups of coffee and placed a tray of fresh local cheese on the table in front of us, saying, "prosze!", here you are. We pieced together a lively conversation in Polish, lots of charades and laughter to accompany. Marysia and Bronek had lived in the same village their whole lives, Tomek knew a few words of English, and Piotrek not only owned the shop in town, but was also the fire chief (or fire chef as he liked to say). Later in the night, he brought out his fireman's uniform for me to try on! The family was so incredibly kind to us, even invited us back, and we felt honored to spend a small part of our lives with them.

The next day we tried to catch the 8:50am bus to Ujstron, a bigger village down the road, but it was May 2nd--smack in the middle of the holidays--and the bus driver was probably sleeping in or eating a hearty egg and toast breakfast. Either way, after 30 minutes, it was clear that the bus wasn't coming.

We walked along the road towards Ujstron for a few kilometers, savoring the fresh pastries we'd just bought and exchanging "Good day"s with the men plowing their fields and the women hanging their clothes on the line. Grant was at the back of our single file line and had been sticking his thumb out to every car that passed. A car actually stopped for us, much to Bhad's surprise. He was at the front of the line and had never seen Grant's hitching thumb. So we hopped in the man's super clean car, and he gave us a smooth and pleasant 10 minute ride to Ujstron. From there, we started the ascent up, up, up into the mountains to the eventual oasis of Hala Boracia--a cozy and bright hostel perched on the side of a mountain. We laid out on the grass with our cold pints of Zywiec, ate oscypek cheese, read, snoozed, and giggled at Booster's man sun-soaking positions. It wasn't a tough walk from there to Wiegierska Gorka, the town where our evening train would leave from. The hike from the bottom of the trail at the edge of town to the train station a mile and a half away was a killer, though. My body sensed the end was near, so it started shutting down prematurely. It was a brilliant feeling, despite the pain: we'd just done a challenging two-day hike, Booster was still prancing, we didn't go hungry, and I couldn't've felt more alive.