Wroclaw 3

I start my day at the Rynek — the central market square. A wide pedestrian boulevard encloses an island of historic buildings. Cool architecture and rainbow colors.

There are restaurants and bars from many different cultures — Greek, German, Spanish... the American offerings being Mickey D’s, Burger King, Pizza Hut and Hard Rock (where i quickly added a groovin new guitar to my collection).

It’s not really hoppin here in the morning, so I’ll come back tonight for the real experience.

Apologies for my sucky photography.

The oldest inn in Wroclaw

Everybody was stroking and pulling on this guy’s tongue... I assume it’s for good luck. I gave it a tug myself— maybe it can help to break the curse. 

Dubbing TV in Poland

I took a spin through the dial on the TV. So many channels on digital TV. Here's what I observed about dubbing TV shows in Poland.

Some shows -- perhaps the most popular, or newest, I don't know the selection criteria -- get your typical dubbing.... One voice for character A, a different voice for character B, a full team of Polish voice actors replacing the English voices.

Other shows -- we'll call them the Short Bus shows -- get ONE SINGLE voice to do ALL the dubbing. AND.... AND... the underlying soundtrack and English dialog is not silenced, only reduced. So the show ends up feeling like a PBS documentary where the you can still hear the Egyptian archaeologist talking while our English host gives us the basic rundown. Lots of US channels are done this way... TNT, HGTV.

And so it's very disconcerting to flip to a channel and see Penelope Garcia, and hear her actual voice talking to Derek Morgan, and then hear a deep male voice speaking her lines, talking over her, in Polish. I had to quick flip before Hot Chocolate answered and the dubber destroyed my universe.

Wroclaw 2

OMG, I’ve died and gone to heaven!

I step off the train into a bright, modern station that feels to me like Oz (OZ like Dorothy and Toto, not Oz like Mel Gibson). I follow the signs directing to City Center and make my way towards my AirBNB. The vibe continues out on the streets.

I get a little lost and stop a nice hipster-looking couple to ask for directions. Their English is perfect and they set me straight.

My AirBNB is in a seemingly new mid-rise, with digital security at the street. Once in the apartment proper I see that a large unit has been divided into four smaller units within. (Nice investment!)

Mine is D, at the top of a steep narrow stairwell. Luckily my small rollie is underweight this time and I experience only a twinge of Steep Stair PTSD, which disappears immediately when I unlock my apartment door.

OMG! OMG!!!! I've died and gone to heaven in Poland!

A fabulous comfy bed with high thread count!! A bright white bathroom with glass shower enclosure! A TV!!! A TV!!!!!!!!! Where there are people speaking ENGLISH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And a roof top patio.

I find that I have an appetite, for the first time in days, so I go downstairs in my building to the only place I've seen open (remember, it's All Saints) -- Dominoes Pizza. And, all the hunky blue-eyed boys working there speak English!

Pinch me!

Observations from the train

There is so much less graffiti in Poland -- on buildings, on train cars, along the train tracks -- than there is in Italy. Maybe 10% of the coverage you'll see in Italy.

Poland is covered in these straight narrow birch trees which have bright white bark with black or charcoal markings. And in the fall the leaves become so yellow as to look like flowers.

There are so many good sized recently built houses of obvious quality throughout the countryside. Concrete blocks are used for exterior construction and even interior walls. Usually stuccoed. The Roofs are sharply pitched and the overhang (???) are much deeper than in the US, maybe 30-32 inches, but not deep enough to provide shelter for, say, a doorway or a porch. And all the houses have wrought iron balconies and tall fences around the entire property.

Apples, apples everywhere.

Poland is also covered in beautiful blue spruce trees.

Forest Fruits

One strange fruit that we find in the forest is Jagody (the Polish word for Blueberries) which are prostitutes who are dumped on the side of the road in the middle of the forest every day to service truck drivers.

Sometimes called Mushroom Pickers (zbieracze grzybów), they stand on the shoulder near a forest service road entrance, often in short shorts and 6 inch heels (even in cold and rain), waiting for BJ and The Bear to come rolling through.

Video highlights coming to screen near you!

The Forest 2

The forest is used for logging, but it's also a public recreational area. There are lots of scout troops (uniforms like SWAT teams!) who go camping and orienteering. There are hiking and mountain bike trails. I don't think hunting is allowed, but I understand that citizens can "harvest" things that grow naturally inside the forest.

What this translates to here is many families heading out at the crack of dawn on Saturday or Sunday to go mushroom picking. Seriously. Crack of dawn. You gotta get there early, before everyone else.

There are many different types of mushrooms, and children are trained by their parents early to identify and locate the family's favorites. Apparently mushrooms are creatures of habit... they like to grow near certain types of trees or fallen logs, and sometimes they hide under leaves. It takes real skill. Ask any person and they will tell you "I can find three different types"... "I can only find two different types"... I've seen photos of their Saturday bumper crops.

Sometimes the mushroom are taken home and eaten that night. But often they are preserved to eat during the winter.

I asked the Polish teachers if any of the mushroom are psychedelic or hallucinogenic, and when I get that quizzical look I explain about Psilocybin and how they grow on cow poop ... but no one will cop to knowing anything about any psychedelic mushrooms in Poland.

The Forest 1

While all the "native speaking" teachers for my school are being housed in the city of Radom, the school has branches in several of the smaller towns nearby. There is a town with the largest coal power plant in Europe, and a town with a glue factory, and they give us lots of business. So we go to them.

If you're teaching in one of these smaller towns tonight, a local teacher who is also teaching there will come by in her car to pick you up, and then will bring you home after school.

I teach 3 nights in Kozienice which is 40-ish km away, 1 night in Pionki which is 25-ish km away, and Friday night in my city of Radom (5 blocks from my house).

Pionki is on the way to Kozienice, and to get to either you go through parts of a National Forest, which the residents just call "the forest". (Sounds like a name M. Night Shyamalan might want to copyright. Oh wait, did he already do that one??)

Driving through the forest feels like parts of Western NC and Eastern TN, where they do a lot of logging, only it's totally flat. While you're in the forest, all mobile communication drops. There are moose in the forest, only rarely spotted... and wild boar which is more prevalent. Also deer.

Sometimes on the way home we drop a teacher off at her house in the forest -- her father's The Forest Ranger. The first night we dropped her we turned off the paved road onto a dirt road and just kept driving and driving. It got darker and darker and the trees closer and closer. I thought we were going to see Little Red Riding Hood on her way to Grannie's.

All Saints' Day

There's no need for me to get to Wroclaw too early, because everything is closed on this holiday except convenience stores. All families pile into the car and travel to every cemetery where they have loved ones buried, laying flowers and lighting candles. In Milano my students talked about this holiday and how it's all about to visiting the cemeteries, but none of my students actually 'fessed up to going to the cemetery.... they said it was only the old people who actually participated.

In Poland, everybody's in. As holidays go it's halfway between an Italian Sunday at mamma's and Christmas (plus dead relatives, minus the gifts).

Apparently in addition to the special masses at the church today, you can also experience a sundown mass in the cemetery (just what every American would want to do the night after Halloween)... with hundreds of candles alight... it's supposed to be beautiful.

Also people buy extra candles to festoon graves which seem to have been abandoned.

I have new friends here who have recently lost spouses. I can only imagine how difficult a day like this must be. My thoughts are with you today.

Wroclaw 1

Thursday and Friday we're out of school as it's All Saints' Day (which I remember from my experience last year in Milano) -- so I'm traveling to Wroclaw for sightseeing over my long weekend.

(I booked my train and AirBNB before my funds went into lockdown, so I'm not gonna be washing dishes for my meals while there. Whew!)

I'm really excited to go. Wroclaw (pronounced vrotswov) is proported to be a really hip, youthful town that feels kinda like Berlin. I'm also excited that the Indian Summer has returned and I'll have a beautiful day to see the countryside out the window of the train on the way.

It’s better in Poland

Here, my apartment has unlimited hot water.  

Thank you BAC

UPDATE Nov 2:  After reaching out to many folks, I found one who knew how to escalate my situation... I’m working with an Associate in Phoenix who is making sure I am able to make updates in OLB.

My life just got even shittier.

Two weeks ago I attempted to set up a new transfer recipient (myself) in Poland. I was not allowed to set up the new recipient because the practice of entering your card number (Debit or Credit)  as identify check has been removed. Now SafePass is FORCED on the customer.

So I tried to add my Polish phone number. As if.  No International Numbers are allowed. No Bank of America customer can use an International Phone Number.

I spent a lot of time SPEAKING with (un)helpful associates only to be told there is NO OPTION OTHER THAN A SAFEPASS SMS to a US PHONE NUMBER.. 

SO, after much crying, enraged tweeting, and gnashing of teeth, I used an EXISTING transfer recipient (MYSELF in Italy).  So basically I had to go Bank of America > $fee > Italy > $fee > Poland.  But it got the job done.

So today, I wanted extend the Travel Notification on my card. But nooo… SafePass is required for this as well.

SO, I said, ok fine, fuck you very much, I’ll just send  more money to myself via Italy.

But NOOOOOOOOOOO, now SafePass is required to send money to myself in Italy as well. My existing transfer recipient which I only used 2 weeks ago without SafePass.

So here I am in Eastern Europe, needing a real winter coat and snow boots,  with no way to send my own fucking money to myself WITHOUT A US PHONE NUMBER.  (And let’s do a reality check — If I were to ask a friend to send me money, that friend would be placed on an AML watch list. So, there’s that.)

I spent a lot of time on the phone with those (un)helpful associates, but I also spent a lot of time working at Bank of America. I am SURE that the practicing of FORCING SAFEPASS on older customers is not working out. Has there been anything in the new?

Is it EVEN LEGAL to allow a customer ONLY ONE WAY, ONLY A US PHONE NUMBER to validate identity?  Does anyone know an attorney I can contact to ask?

My new friend Ana

I’m starting to appreciate the allure of anorexia as a means of asserting control over one’s life...

If your life is controlled by another person or, heaven forbid, the Universe has decided to make you his Prison June Bug, the act of eating when, what, and how much you want (or if...) is a very powerful way to bring order to your mind.

Friday night predictability

Grazie, Muzzu

I went to a bus station in a small town, to catch a ride 40 km back to my (small) city. The buses traveling to the various other towns leave from assigned platforms/binarios which are simply three sided enclosures beside the street. I didn't know which platform was for my town/bus.... So I walked up to a but idling there to ask.

Me: Excuse me, do you speak English?

Bus Driver: zxyczxyzhl. (which I took to mean either "what?" or "no")

Me: Inglese?

BD: No, no. Italiano.

Me: (Very big eyes and big smile) OK!

BD: (big eyes, backtracking now) Oh! Oh! Un poco, un poco!

Me: Is ok. Is enough. (notice how I switch to Pidgin)

Me: Ho bisogno andare a Radom. Vado a Radom.

BD: Vai in Radom? Uno! Uno! (pointing)

Me: Grazie. Grazie mille!!

And I went to Platform 1 to wait for my bus.

Monday - Friday

7:30 -- Alarm starts ringing

8:30 - 9:30 -- Complete administrivia from last night’s classes

9:30 - 11:30+ -- Complete lessons plans for today's classes

11:30 - 1:30 -- Shower, eat

1:30-ish - 3:00-ish -- ride to school

8:20-ish 9:20-ish -- ride home from school

10:00 fall into bed exhausted

Wash, rinse, repeat

Life decision confirmed

I hate children.

My first perogis

Handmade by my new friend’s mother  

This is the way we dry our sheets...

Dry our sheets, dry our sheets... 🎹🎼 

Autumn in Radom

(not) train spotting

So after being given only barebones grunts of directions from police officers to the train info center, up two flights of escalators experiencing heavy suitcase PTSD every step, I found a nice lady there who spoke English, I had my ticket in hand with 20 minutes to spare.

I made my way back down the escalators to the platform to wait.

About 5 minutes before we were set to leave the board started indicating the train was late. And it indicated the train was late for about 20 minutes... Until my train disappeared off the board. Poof! Gone... And another arriving train appeared.

Apparently MY TRAIN had come. To another platform. Without stating such on the board.

So. Hmmm.

Me and my overweight suitcases went back up the escalators to the info center... crying and PTSD-ing the entire way... and the nice lady took pity on me again...

She said the train had come. And I tried to explain that if it had indeed come the board never told me to change platforms.

So, she found me another train... which was through a "commuter" trainline and left through some secondary platforms.... And she KNEW I'd be unable to find these platforms (through my sobs!) so she enlisted the info center guard to walk me over.

So me and my escort took the escalators back down again... and then we took elevators and walked through the bowels of the station up and down concrete stairs (remember, TWO OVERWEIGHT BAGS) and ended up on some platform where escorted prisoners catch the train for Nurmengard, where my handler proceeded to ask two teenage girls "Is this the train to Radom?"

He smiled and left me to fend for myself.