Pondering in Polska: Silly Signage, Vatican Haters & Drunks

Today marks day 10 for me in Poland, the motherland of one of my best friends on earth. 

In that time, I have been anxious to explore eastern Poland, but nervous with my timeline because I want to pack in as many Baltic cities as I can before my departure for Stockholm next week.  

Before my arrival, I didn't know much about Poland (I know, I know - I'm starting to sound like a broken record with how little I know about the countries I have been visiting...), but I have learned a good amount over the past few days through observation, questioning, and simple confusion which leads to my ceaseless pondering after certain events occur.

I have a few blog posts worth of notes that I'd like to share on my time here, but the most glaring points of confusion will be housed in this one.  I'll utilize the photographs I've taken as much as possible to leave room for the readers to join me in the confusion. 

Part 1: Silly Signage

I usually don’t pay much attention to road signs in other countries.  This is based on the fact that I am absolutely never driving, and if I find myself on a bike I just use the bike lane or hope for the best.  Usually a combination of the two.

If a specific sign jumps out at me I might comment on it or laugh to myself, but over the past week and a half there have been more than a few run ins with signs that have left me wondering long after I’ve left the location.

For the first two, I was simply overly entertained (please note: Jennifer was absolutely not) at the translations.  Admit it, when you read the Polish word together with the English version it’s sounds like ebonics and proves to be a bit comical…

Yo, who's seen my 'grupy group'?

Where those damn 'toalety toilets' at?

Back to my semi serious note, the other signs have me utterly confused.  I actually returned to one in the middle of rush hour traffic to take a picture of it because I was so intrigued (it’s the 'girl holding a flying balloon/safety guard' one).  If anyone honestly has a guess at what these mean, I would love to hear it. 

First of all, would this have been speed limit 00?  From there - street art at its finest!

I checked, and didn't notice any stickers or other add ons to the original sign...(other than the left side graffiti)

No towns allowed to be established this way? There was in fact a town behind this sign, adding to my confusion...

Left one only: No family suicides?  Or no parents abandoning kids on rocking horses on the bridge?  Guys, I'm lost...

Part 2: Vatican Haters

Warning: I have to disappoint Marist/upset Catholics with this portion of my post.  

Coming from a Catholic education and family, I have to be honest when I say that I only know three popes well.  First there was Peter (that's almost the extent of my knowledge about his papacy), then there was someone else, then there were a few more someone elses, then there was JPII (Polish - I loved him), Benedict XVI (German - ehh), and now we have Francis (Argentine & whom I also love).

The rest of them - not much of a clue off the top of my mind as to who they were or what they changed.  At this, my partially pre-Vatican II mother and Mr. Pearson, my AP Euro professor, are undoubtedly cringing I'm sure along with the entire Marist community - oops, sorry guys!  If you had asked me the details of the many papacies upon my completion of AP European History at Marist, the answer would have been completely different and quite thorough, I mean, I got a 4...  Unfortunately, I haven't been reviewing those notes as of late. 

  Like most people with presidents, the ones I know best were those alive during my lifetime.

That being said, I thought having a pope from your country would mean automatic national support - I don't know why I thought this.  In my opinion Pope John Paul II was well received by the general Catholic and international political population.  Also, if you have a pope from your country that is just cool, right?  It doesn't happen often, so I had assumed that it was a point of national pride at some level.  As with most assumptions, I wasn't spot on.

With the local Catholic church bells ringing the hour in the background, followed by a chime of Ave Maria, Jennifer and I joined the Free Walking Tour of Krakow.  About halfway through our tour, we stopped to view this alarming piece of street art.  This was commissioned by the city of Krakow, where Pope John Paul II lived (although he was born in Wadowice, Poland).  The city paid an Italian (also interesting to note) street artist to paint this piece a few blocks off of the city center in Krakow.  I was startled to say the least.

The Catholic Church commanding the masses; if you look closely the Papal Keys are on the speaker

'The Masses' below the speaker up close and an ominous message: Never Follow

As you can see, the speaker appears just as those below him - no one has hair or eyes.  Although they are "the same" (both the followers and the leader), the speaker is commanding the masses through the megaphone, which has the Papal keys on it.  

Our tour guide said that this piece was intentionally put in Krakow to suggest to everyone that you should constantly question what you are being told, and that no man is greater than any other man - no one should be allowed to command without question.  All good notes and quite true, in my opinion. It is also interesting to me that this piece was put near the Jewish Quarter of the city where the ghetto was located during the Nazi occupation.

After briefly considering the strangeness of such a pointed message in proximity to the late pope's quarters, we continued our tour.  We later were in the town square market where we considered purchasing a crucifix, but were deterred by the absorbent prices; like most markets, these sellers know to mark them up because many people have come to see the Pope's apartment as a sort of pilgrimage.

Overpriced crucifixes: the one we considered was almost $300 USD

 After leaving Jennifer, I headed by train to Gdańsk in the northeast.  Luckily, I was visiting at the same time as their annual arts festival.  The Academy of Fine Arts in Gdańsk was also showing a new contemporary exhibit.  Per my pre-Lil J tradition, I was excited and decided to check it out.  

Most of the pieces were as you could imagine: a half-finished project in the "name of art"; a partially completed Pinterest quilt thrown over a mannequin; a chair that someone had been sitting on before they realized the exhibit opened today, thus prompting them to turn it in for credit; a montage of mainstream hatred shown through consumed, or simply wasted, Coca-Cola bottles.  (Sorry art lovers, I have to jab contemporary art after seeing some of the pieces...) Contrary to those (true) previous comments, the exhibit overall was quite nice, and the ability of the artists in most pieces was impressive and thought provoking.  

As I entered one of the last spaces, I was again shocked by the presence of such an anti-Catholic message in this country; the piece itself was quite moving.  I hesitate to say that the piece in its entirety can be appreciated without seeing it in person, but if you're Catholic, I think you can imagine what it is saying.  

If you're not, here are the SparkNotes: "Standing at the side of the altar, the priest washes his hands and quietly prays, 'Wash me, O Lord, from my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.” This prayer is a reference to King David’s psalm of repentance (Psalm 51) in which he repents from his sins of adultery and murder. It is a reminder to the priest of his own sinfulness and unworthiness to stand before the altar of the Lord and offer the sacrifice of the Mass.'

Part III: Drunks

Deep breath.  I'm finished with the heavy, religious part.

My third, and final, observation about Poland: the plethora of drunks. 

Morning, noon, or night.  You name the time, they're drinking - vodka, beer, whiskey - anything but water.

Coming from Ireland, you'd think that I wouldn't notice much of a difference in terms of the daily alcohol intake.  As a wonderful local educated Jennifer and I in Galway "We changed a bit; not so many of us have our 5 or 6 pints before work like we use'ta. More of us gotta drive, ya see."  

Well, I can attest that Polish public transportation is fantastic, and I guess that's a national blessing.  Trains, trams, buses - they are all great.

That being said, from 8 AM until noon there is a stale vodka smell on everyone's breath that takes me back to freshman year of college.  Walking to the Gdańsk bus station early this past Sunday morning had me reminiscing on all of the times that I walked through a fraternity house after a three day party.  Bottles and bodies everywhere.  Not many resembling living beings.

This brings me to the about 487th other question and thought I've had regarding Polish culture in the past 10 days, but as my computer is about to die I will have to save those for another blog and leave you with this picture.  It was taken at 7:15 AM at the bus station McDonald's (it was all that was open for coffee & breakfast, I'm not proud of being there).

Two bros who couldn't hang any longer PTFO

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A Terrifying Trip Back in Time

"Work Makes You Free" Entering the gate at the Auschwitz concentration and extermination camp 

Traveling is almost always seen wholly as enjoyable and relaxing.  The traveling that people generally associate with holidays or summer vacations is lighthearted, open minded, and frivolous.  The truth is that the history, both past and recent, of certain regions of the world can be much less comforting than this “holiday” ideal, and in some regions it is quite difficult to escape without facing these unfortunate and uncomfortable truths.  Learning about the history of the regions and countries I visit is one of my favorite parts of traveling, although on days like today it can be quite a heavy load to handle. 

Barracks with beyond inhumane conditions

Today Jennifer and I spent the day touring two of the three main Auschwitz concentration camps compounds (there are about 40 individual camps that are included under the Auschwitz name in the region), made famous by the horrendous and unthinkable acts that happened here during the time of Nazi occupation of Poland.  Auschwitz and Auschwitz-Birkenau were two of the largest and most notorious concentration and extermination camps during this time.

One of the execution walls between barracks

As we began our tour in the early afternoon, we were silenced by the seemingly endless expanse of barbed wire surrounding the compound and similarly unending row of “blocks” or barracks set up for the prisoners.  Many of the prisoners initially brought to the infamous Auschwitz camp were Poles from around the region, followed by Gypsies, Russian POWs, and then most famously hundreds of thousands of European Jews. 

Barbed wire surrounding Block 23

Although both Jennifer and I studied the history of the Holocaust in an incredible class during our time at Marist, the expositions we witnessed and the information we received were nothing less than harrowing.  The truth of situations such as the events of this genocide never lose their ability to shock and terrify individuals walking through the sites as a student of history.  The ceaseless question whispered by each of our group mates: who could ever be capable of such atrocities?

The tour of the barracks and sleeping arrangements, the solitary confinement and punishment wards, viewing the firing squad wall, touring the endless personal possessions stolen from the victims, and walking through the inhumane sanitary conditions were all individually upsetting, but the moment that shook me most was walking into the Auschwitz gas chamber and crematorium with my youngest sister next to me.

While we walked we were asked to keep silent, but I don’t think I could have spoken if it were necessary.

 

The idea of all of the innocent, dehumanized, tormented, and horrified pairs of sisters (or pairs of brothers, mothers and their children, and sometimes entire families) forced to walk through these same doors exactly as we were, and not entirely too long ago, and knowing that they would never live to see the light of day was a heavy burden to consider while simultaneously reflecting on the catastrophic loss of these victims, their families, and their nations.

Horrific amounts of barbed wired surrounding the compounds

What on earth could they have possibly said to comfort one another in these last moments as their impending doom lay in wait?  Separated by sex, and then age, there would have been a high chance that if we were brought here as prisoners that this would have been exactly how we would have met our own fate.  The endless rows of pictures of the sibling victims from the barracks were flooding my mind during the moments of walking through those horrifying walls.

Entering the gas chamber and crematorium

The happenstance of our freedom and rights as women is something we have constantly reflected upon during our travels, but during days when such grievous atrocities are not only brought to light, but put in front of your face, it is hard to move on without being put into a rather severe state of deep, arguably depressing contemplation. 

“We are alive. We are human, with good and bad in us. That's all we know for sure. We can't create a new species or a new world. That's been done. Now we have to live within those boundaries . What are our choices? We can despair and curse, and change nothing. We can choose evil like our enemies have done and create a world based on hate. Or we can try to make things better.” 

― Carol Matas, Daniels Story

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Bonjour, Belgium!

Bikes & Champagne Picnics in Bruges

After countless attempts to plan out the remainder of our European travels together, we finally sat down to purchase tickets from Dublin to continental Europe.  In Asia, doing this a few days in advance was completely normal, and although prices would fluctuate, the price would never inhibit us from journeying somewhere new - it was all affordable.

Surrounding Bruges

As we sat in Hailey's flat in Dublin, the realization that we were quite stuck and going to have to change our plan once again dawned on us.  Summertime Europe does not compare to any other place I've been in terms of terrifying costs for a backpacker, and these costs make places aggressively unattractive in terms of visiting:cost ratio.  The result of our debate, finger crossing, and endless Google searches (while clearing our browser cookies in order to avoid pricing schemes for repeat searches on the same flights) - we were headed to Bruges, Belgium.

Windmill in Bruges

As soon as we arrived in Bruges and spoke with a local couple, we were off to our hostel, Charlie Rocket's.  We arrived at the same time as our Swiss roommates, and chatted for a bit before heading to the nearest tavern to watch the FIFA World Cup Final while enjoying our first Belgium beers.  This is an important point to review: Jennifer does not drink beer.  AT ALL.

Exploring Bruges

I was in Belgium with my sister, who for the fact prompted the beer ordering, while watching Argentina play for the World Cup Finals - life was a dream!  Although Argentina didn't win the game, we had a great time enjoying the atmosphere and a few delicious beers before calling it a night.  

Bruges, Belgium

Our next day was spent biking, exploring and taste testing our way through the chocolate shops of the beautiful city, and picnic-ing next to the river that encompasses Bruges' city center.  We had (like our time in Ireland) fantastic weather, which allowed us to relax and cat nap in the sun before we had to return our bicycles late in the afternoon.

Biking around Bruges

After three days in the Neverland of Bruges, we decided to spend a day exploring Ghent before catching our flight leaving from Brussels and taking us to our next stop: Prague, Czech Republic.

Bruges, Belgium

Conveniently, Ghent was only a thirty minute train ride from Bruges.  We arrived in mid-morning, rented lockers in the train station to store our backpacks and proceeded to access wifi for great advice from Jennifer's Belgian friend, Gerald.  

Historic boat tour in Ghent

We visited the Gravensteen Castle, took an hour-long historic ferry tour of the city, and enjoyed the most ridiculous Belgian fries that I could have imagined.  I took at least a few years off of my life within minutes, but they were delicious!

The two of us had a great time walking around the city and learning as we explored; one of the coolest streets we stumbled upon was a graffiti lane.  There were two little punks spraying, or rather refining their skills, which was fun to watch for a bit.  

Graffiti wall in Ghent

Towards the end of the day, it was time for us to catch the train to Brussels where we had no reservations and no idea how far away the airport would be for our flight the following morning.  It was one of those moments when all of our devices were dead, we had no wifi or prospects of finding it, the sun was setting and we were exhausted and clueless.  We toyed around with the idea of renting lockers and finding a club to stay in until early in the morning, but decided against that immediately when we realized we were both quite tired.  

Castle View in Ghent

Instead, we asked for the city center and headed out of the train station.  After a moment of adjusting to the new city, I spotted a group of four guys who had backpacks and were heading down the street. After a quick look at Jennifer to gauge our level of desperation and complete indifference to sleeping on the street (which was quickly rising to "extreme") I started sprinting towards them, as fast as my backpack-laden body would allow.  In one of our greater strokes of luck, they happened to be four Mexican guys who had just arrived and were headed towards a hostel where they'd had the good sense to make a reservation.  

Beautiful flowers on the river in Ghent

They welcomed us to join their group, and after chatting in a very animated, interesting combination of Spanish and English, we learned that they lived outside Mexico City, DF where Jennifer spent last summer.  In true Mexican form, they were looking for a party, and our previous exhaustion dissipated immediately.  

We arrived with them at their prearranged hostel, and in another stroke of luck, got two of the last beds available in the place.  Jennifer was assigned to the room with our new amigos, as I was headed upstairs to drop my bags in my assigned dorm.  We agreed to meet downstairs in 20 minutes, during which time I recruited two Canadian guys and three Korean freshmen I met in my dorm.  Our posse's plan was changed when we heard about 1 euro beers until midnight at a nearby pub, and then it was decided we would head to the infamous Delirium Cafe, an absinthe bar located down the street from our hostel.   

Wall of Beer in Bruges, Belgium

We had one of the most fun nights of our trip that night.  To say that we were surprised that we made our flight would be an extreme understatement.  I think we got back to our room well past 3 AM, and had to be awake at 5 AM to catch a cab to the airport.  We were awakened and ushered out of the hostel by our extremely intoxicated Mexican friend who was quite the gentleman and insisted on carrying our bags downstairs for us.

Brussels, I literally know nothing about you, and probably won't be back, but thanks for a kick ass night!

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Czech-ing Prague Out: Round II

"Well, that was uneventful"
- On realizing that her champagne was a screw off top during our picnic in the park in Bruges, Belgium

 When you travel with someone you learn absolutely everything about that person.  Living with a roommate in college you may have some insight to the intricacies and intimacies of someone’s life, but I truly believe that you don’t know someone fully until you travel with them.

If that is true, which I wholeheartedly believe that it is (and would love to hear feedback of those believing otherwise), then traveling for extended periods of time with an individual allows for you to get to know that person better than you ever thought possible.

"I wonder if you could swim in that water if you jumped.  How deep do you think it is?"
- On gauging if you would survive a fall off the cliff in Aran Island, Ireland

Of all of the observations, discussions, situations, and moments of adversity that Jennifer and I have shared, one insight about my sister that I have learned is that she is extremely laidback when traveling and even if her life depended on it she would not care to plan anything. 

Shooting guns in Phnom Penh, Cambodia - this was NOT my idea 

Imagine arriving into a European city with no checklists, no preplanned list of “must sees” or “must dos”, no reservations, no maps, no restaurant guides or food stall recommendations.  Nothing.  If you’ve been following along you know I’m not an avid pre-planner, but no food recommendations?  She can’t be related to me.

Gedy driving us on his scooter in Bali, Indonesia - this may have been my idea...

Trip Advisor is a website that only recently joined her browser history at my aggressive insistence, and if you asked her who Fodor is, she would probably comment that he is a head of state in a country somewhere in Eastern Europe.

As irritating as I originally felt that this trait might be, it has turned into quite a well-needed new perspective for me.

"Your hair is blonder than mine, let me see what it would look like on me..."
- Brought to you by my curiosity and too much time on trains in Vietnam

I am crafting this blog update from a dark, questionably smelling hostel common room in the Czech Republic after a rather short, but thorough day of exploring Prague.  We arrived early yesterday morning (in one of the most fragile states we have ever found ourselves in - see my Belgium post for a more comprehensive explanation; coming soon).  After resting for most of the day yesterday, we began our exploration.

Jennifer with her newest accessory in the Mekong Delta, Vietnam 

I visited this beautiful city a few years ago, and it was my first trip completely alone.  I studied abroad in Argentina without knowing a soul, but with classes and a university social calendar to rely on, wonderful friendships and great memories came easily. 

"I don't know if I would like Irish coffee...I'll take one, please"
- On stepping out of her alcohol comfort zone and honoring her heritage 

Prague was the first city in which I had to force myself through awkward bunkmate introductions, hostel happy hour chats, and even weasel my way into groups of pre-existing travel buddies to explore the city and meet new friends.  Don’t get me wrong, much of my exploration was done alone on that trip and accomplished with little more than a hostel-provided brochure including a shoddy map and a few major checkpoints: The Charles Bridge, the Prague Castle, the Old Town Square. 

"I don't really know how to shotgun a beer" & then figuring it out in Ha Long Bay, Vietnam

I ended my time in Prague feeling exhilarated and independent, and in those short days realized a crucial fact about myself that I will never forget and that has shaped my life since then: not only can I travel alone, but I can have a great time doing it. 

If someone didn’t want to visit Paraguay, no problem!  But I do. 

Oh, Cambodia sounds like a shithole, you say?  Well, it probably is & I can’t wait to see it!

Ukraine is the armpit of the world?  I’ll let you know when I get back!

But first, let me take a selfie! 

All of the places that I thought would have to wait until I could find a travel buddy were now on my radar, and the feeling was incredible.  No waiting for vacation days to align or crossing my fingers for similar interests when we arrive at the destination – the world was my oyster, and I’m happy to report that it still is (except I don’t really like oysters, and I love the world…whatever.)

"I think it's ripping my earring out.  Nikki! These are my real pearls that I just got in Saigon!"
- On being a monkey whisperer in Ubud, Bali, Indonesia

As I mentioned in a previous post, revisiting a city or country is always a bittersweet personal experience for me.  A bit of the exhilarating “newness” is gone, but it is usually replaced with great memories and, depending on the time elapsed, some recommendations – usually food and drink related. 

I always enjoy reflecting on a few personal questions, as well: what phase of life was I in at that time?  What has changed for me since I last visited?  What was my favorite experience or memory?  What museum or part of the city did I enjoy?

Last time, I was in a job that I strongly disliked (my first job out of college), and I was thrilled to be able to take some time off and relax.  I visited a handful of museums during my time here, my favorite being the Mucha Museum.  I had a blast clubbing and going to beer gardens with hostel friends, and simply enjoying the August weather.  I could go on for a while about that trip.

Straight chillin in her spot in Padang Padang, Bali, Indonesia

Traveling with Jennifer has afforded me the interesting perspective of not worrying about museums, historical sites, built-up Trip Advisor experiences, or arguably unnecessary or unauthentic tourist traps. 

When I asked her recently if she wanted to see a Michelangelo sculpture (one of the only ones located outside of Rome), her immediate response was “I saw that picture on a postcard, let’s find something more entertaining.”  At the beginning of our travels, I was shocked by responses such as this, but I think that long term traveling with an attitude like this has been a stroke of luck for me.

Pushing her fashion limits in Vietnam

No 7 A.M. wake up calls, no mind numbing tours of sites or museums that we are “supposed” to be interested in, no disappointment when an itinerary goes unfinished, and more time to relax and soak up the parts of the city that we want to explore.  One of the best parts is a completely open itinerary to meet new people.  The two of us could easily sit in a café or restaurant for two hours before one of us suggests the bill, we have loved reading many new books on the road, and to imagine how many conversations we have had that turned into friendships would be outrageous.  Suffice to say, a lot.

"I always think Guinness is going to taste like a milkshake, and it never does..."
- On her constant disappointment with Guinness in Dublin, Ireland 

When I asked her today if she wanted to visit the MuchaMuseum, her honest and immediate answer was (a not surprising) “not really”.  When we watched the clock strike 3 o’clock in the Old Town Square, her reaction to the infamous Astrological Clock’s was a frown and a “that’s all?”

I would draw the line if there was an exhibit I was dying to see or a part of town I wanted to visit, but if that was the case she would wholeheartedly join me; she just is not inclined to explore that side of the city on her own. 

Branching out to Hong Kong alone and then coordinating the perfect catch up with a high school friend 

This blog post being written, we have had an incredible journey this summer because she is open to everything, but not set on anything, which is the entire point of traveling.  I can barely believe that our joint travels will be over in less than seven days.

This previously-vegan, non-beer drinking sister of mine freely consumed an entire plate of carpaccio last night at dinner while sipping my Pilsner Urquell pint.  If you know her, that is a BIG deal.  I could not be more proud of her for stepping out of her comfort zone and opening herself to new experiences, while simultaneously opening my eyes.  

Who is this creature, you ask?  Well, friends, she’s the best travel buddy a girl could ask for! 

In all of her splendor!  Taken in Hanoi, Vienam

We might not see every museum or landmark, but I don’t think that’s where the best memories are ever made.

So, in conclusion, we are in Prague and I'll let you know how Belgium was soon enough.  Spoiler alert: we had a blast!  Anyone surprised?  Until then, this is a shout out to my summer travel buddy, Jennifer, and if you haven't seen it already, take a quick look at one of our summer videos.  Enjoy...we sure have.

Yep. We did it all.

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