I finally am able to share a bit about my experiences in Poland; sorry it has taken so long! I have had a wonderful time so far and since my last post have traveled to Wicklow, New Castle, Poland and this last weekend Bratislava, Vienna and Hungary to visit my Aunt Jill and Uncle Brad- more to come on that!
A few tidbits about my everyday life:
1. It has come to my attention that our apartment not only has mice but also birds. Birds have learned how to dive-bomb into our open windows and steal our food.
2. When locals ask, ‘Where is the crack’ they aren’t asking for a substance but rather saying ‘Where is the Craic’ translated to ‘Where is the party’. I wish I would have known this a tad bit earlier, maybe would have prevented some awkward conversations.
3. I can find almost all the food we have in America except peanut butter, Ireland doesn’t have Jif. My Aunt tried to send some home with me this last weekend but security at the airport confiscated it.
Krakow Poland:
After dumping our stuff in our Egyptian designed Hostel our first stop was a 24- hour pierogi place. Piergoies are a classic Polish dish that resemble a dumpling filled with anything from meat, potatoes or even apples (Yes, I did try them all). Our host, Monika recommended it to us calling it a pierogie heaven, I would agree. We were all ecstatic about the exchange rate, 1 Euro = 4 Zloty, allowing us to visit often. The majority of our weekend consisted of filling ourselves with kielbasa, potato pancakes, pierogies and meat. We visited Wawel castle and the barn market.
For dinner the first night Monika recommended an authentic polish dinner place that not many know about. We understood why it wasn’t frequently visited as we entered into a museum, down the hall, and through a few doors. Once we finally reached the joint the 10 dining and 3 people working went silent staring at us. Nobody spoke English. We awkwardly muttered a few words and received huge plates of food that looked like Grandma would have made, delicious! As we were leaving I thanked the grandfather of the family owned restaurant. He and I tried to communicate as I muttered the few Polish sentences I knew. He was beaming as I tried to articulate in Polish ‘Thank you, winter is here/It’s cold’. He wanted me to speak more so I tried to convey that I only knew a few things from my grandma. He laughed when I said in Polish ‘It’s no fun getting old', a phrase my 86 year old grandma says often. He pulled me into a hug and blessed me in Polish. Our group headed out for a cheap night on the town. I chatted with Thomas, a bar owner and his buddies and learned quite a bit about the culture and traditions. Two of his friends were 80-year-old men playing chess at a trendy and fairly loud bar. They had interesting insight on gender roles, tradition and religion, which forced me to practice the virtue of silence and the usefulness of diplomatic speaking. I had no interest in changing their views and I was fascinated by the power of culture. After hitting the pierogies place once more we went to bed to get ready for Auschwitz. Below is a picture from our adventures at Wawel castle!
I woke up a bit nervous and unsure of what to expect. As we pulled into the grounds everything was black and gray. The sky, walls, barbed wire, buildings, gates, everything felt eerie. The front gate was haunting knowing hundreds of thousands were murdered inside the dreadful sign reading ‘Arbeit Macht Frei’ meaning ‘Work Sets You Free’. My first thought was that everything felt too modern. The roads, the buildings, fences, and signs allowed me to understand the timing of this frightful event and put it into perspective. We walked through a building with victim’s possessions everything from shoes to womens’ hair. Hair was piled up to the ceiling. The Nazis shaved womens’ hair to sell. As I stood looking at blond, brown, and black clumps it was hard to catch my breath.
The next room I walked into had hundreds of suitcases and the first one I saw read ‘Franz Engel’. I know he wasn’t a relative but my face dropped and my heart sank reading my last name. Franz was a German man who lived in Vienna. He was a successful comedian and musician who died after several years of suffering in this hellish existence. I researched a few other victims and read the book “Night” by Elie Wiesel, this forced me to process things a bit further. I would highly recommend “Night”.
I have two Jewish friends that I went to Auchwitz with and the next part was the hardest for most of us, especially them. We entered the gas chamber and on the walls scrape marks from nails left a horrid image of hundreds of thousands attempting to escape their inhumane deaths. What made me feel most disoriented was how ‘efficient’ they made it to make thousands and thousands disappear. They had a crematory station steps away from the chamber where they cut women’s hair and forced prisoners to cremate bodies of friends and family. The Nazis took the ashes and used them to fertilize farming fields or put them in massive holes.
We left and headed a few minutes away to Auschwitz II AKA Birkenau. The sheer size of this area was overwhelming. I could see no end. The entrance had train tracks running through the front gate all the way to the back. Our first stop inside the gate was the exact point where shameful men chose the fate of every single person with a turn of their hand. The elder, women with kids and the weak were sent down the path the prisoners called the ‘Jew Walk’ the path leading to gas chambers. Next we walked into the housing quarters that happened to be a children’s living section. There were marks in the walls and worn down parts, like a wood ladder from the children living there.
I will never forget this experience and my heart hurts for victims of such hatred. After talking with one of my Jewish friends, he explained more history and hopes for the future. What took me back is how I not only felt pain and anguish but also hatred for humanity’s allowance of such a colossal and horrendous event. My friend felt no hatred, he only hopes for a better future and for remembrance.
After our experience at the concentration camps we were all quite somber but we visited the salt mines (picture below) and of course back to the pierogi place one last time. Poland was unforgettable in so many ways, including the welcoming people, inexpensive food and many opportunities to try out all the Polish phrases my grandma is always saying. Auf widersehen! (goodbye)
