After class, a group of us headed across the square to a small crêperie, a semi-fast food place with just a few small tables, and prints from the children's book Winnie the Pooh on the walls. One thing I noticed about the staff: they were all women. I thought back to my experiences at other restaurants, cafes, and lunch counters. With the exception of the rare kebab vendor, almost everyone I'd seen working in the food service industry is female. Food for thought (no pun intended).
I took a break from studying that afternoon and practiced my orienteering skills to find an out-of-the-way English-language bookstore a friend had recommended I check out. Am I glad I did! I spent hours wandering the numerous rooms full of books: new, used, young and old. I noticed a poster on the wall for regular 10:00am meetings for coffee and the popular American public radio program Democracy Now! The notice didn't suprise me; although the shop wasn't very crowded in the middle of the afternoon, I could tell it had a significant ex-pat and international clientele. While browsing, I heard Polish, English, French, and German being spoken. A short, blonde man with a goatee working behind the counter conversed easily in French with a woman about the status of her bagel, while he carefully recorded the author and title of the book I'd purchased (A collection of poetry from Polish author Czeslaw Miloz, called "Road-Side Dog"). The gesture spoke to his care and passion for the store.
I spent the evening wandering around the side streets radiating off Krakow's main square, stopping for a delicious "bread ring," (I'm not sure of the Polish name, but it's like a cross between a soft pretzel and a bagel, usually covered in sesame seeds or salt, and slightly hardened) and to snap some shots of the city at sunset. I'm no pro photographer by any means, but I tried to capture images that really show the aspects of Krakow that I find so attractive. The city makes few attempts to hide the crumbling facades and graffiti that indicate its less-than-happy past. The churches are a testament to the city's endurance, its determination to hold on to cling to the most vital components of its identity in times of turmoil. Professor Kubiak touched on that last idea in his lecture. The Catholic church was a substitution for a non-existent state during the 125-year partition of Poland in the 18th century, and helped Poles preserve their identity under communism. As I admired these memorials of hope through my camera lens, I couldn't help but wonder if they'd maintain their importance in the decades to come. Will Catholicism in Poland fade away as the country becomes more economically and socially integrated with its European partners to the West? A professor of mine at Kenyon recalled a recent trip to Ireland, where the Irish mass at 10:00 am was nearly empty, but the Polish mass right afterward was standing-room only. Clearly, these traditions aren't going anywhere for a long time, but I wonder how long it will be until Poland is hit with the tide of Western European secularization.
