Integration, It's Everywhere

The other day I had to buy some school supplies, so I headed over to the Galleria Krakowia, a giant, glass-enclosed shopping mall just outside the main square. The first thing I noticed was the number of people with laptops in the food court! I've never seen anything like that at a mall in the U.S. After about 20 minutes of fruitless searching, I finally found the Carrefour, which is a kind of European version of Target. Normally the Poles aren't very keen on one-stop shops (the main street near our apartment contains tiny storefronts for a shoe store, a lamp store, a bookstore, an electronics store, etc.), but they apparently make an exception inside mega-malls. Carrefour had an entire row of notebooks, I was pleased to see, until upon closer inspection I discovered that they all had either colorful geometric patterns or cartoon characters on the front, and were, without exception, filled with graph paper. I found the most unsuspecting offender, paid, and headed back out into the mall. On my way out, an enormous mural hung above the mall's entrance: it was a smattering of irregularly placed dots next to Polish words that I later recognized to be all of the major European cities in geographical proximity to one another, without any continental or national borders. From London to Moscow, Stockholm to Kiev, black dots on a white background, with no political barriers. I couldn't help but think of Professor Kubiak's dreams of post-Wesphalian international cooperation, and the neofunctionalist thoery "spillover" integration. From the looks of it, these theories and abstractions are well on their way to becoming reality.

Proper Time In Proper Place

Yesterday morning, we had our first lecture with Professor Kubiak, a Sociologist at the Jagiellonian University here in Krakow. His perfectly professorial dress and demeanor (he brought a teacup with yellow flowers and a matching saucer) inspired both comfort and respect. He introduced himself to the class by way of a transparency showing the cover of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis' biography, and a story of himself as a young student at the Jagiellonian in 1954, when Senator Robert Kennedy and the then first lady made the first foreign state visit to Poland from a western nation since the onset of communism. Professor Kubiak shared a drink with Kennedy at one of the students' clubs, and afterwards attended a press conference held by the Senator. When Kennedy invited the young Kubiak to ask the first question, he asked, "Who do you think killed your brother?" To which Kennedy replied with his first public answer on the subject, though I unfortunately missed Professor Kubiak's explanation of what exactly that answer was. After the press conference, Kennedy asked Kubiak if he would like to come and study in America, and told him not to worry about the costs. Professor Kubiak described the experience as as "to be in proper time in proper place," a phrase I found both charming and lucid. The academic portion of the lecture was equally as engaging as the introduction. I'll comment more on it after our next class with him on Wednesday.

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.

My Bologna Has A First Name...

Today was a low-key kind of day. I went for a jog when I woke up this morning (well, afternoon), and was surprised to see that almost all of the shops were closed. Restaurants and cafes, too. Is that typical of most European cities, I wonder, or just those like Krakow, where Sunday mass is still figures into most people's routines?

I ran in my usual park, on the blacktop path which makes a short, 300-meter loop around what is either an empty swimming pool or a skate park, I'm not sure which. A corrugated metal fence plastered with posters advertising events in the city usually surrounds the ambiguous pit, but today it had been knocked down due to high winds the night before. It was about 3 in the afternoon, and the first thing that popped into my head was, "why hasn't someone fixed this yet?" For some reason, I thought, if this had happened in New York or Chicago, some city maintenance crew would have been on it like white on rice. Not that I'm any kind of authority on the matter, since I don't live in either city, but that's the thought I had, unjustified as it may be.

Some more random observations:

• One of my favorite things about that park is the elderly couples who shuffle around the loop together with arms linked, the women in long skirts and sometimes sporting a kerchief (headcarf? I'm not really sure how to describe it), and oftentimes escorting a small dog. Elderly people seem to be more out-and-about here than in the states. Or maybe there's just more of them. Professor Kubiak says Europe's average population is getting older, as couples no longer reproduce with enough gusto to replace themselves.
  

• I went to the grocery store this evening and decided to be adventures and order some form of deli meat that I was pretty sure was turkey. It took me five minutes of broken Polish and crude sign language, and when I returned home and had a taste, I could tell it was definitely not turkey, nor any other form of lunchmeat I'm familiar with. It was probably just some type of bologna, but earlier in the week someone mentioned horse meat, and my imagination whirred with all of the possible origins of my mystery meat. I lost my appetite, but was proud for stepping outside my comfort zone.

• Back at the grocery checkout, was surprised to find that I was expected to bag my own groceries! I stared at the cashier for a while, oblivious, until she pointed to a bunch of plastic bags hanging from a hook at the end of the checkout, then stared at me expectantly. Oops, one of those faux pas you simply can't avoid as a foreigner.
  

Rezerwat

Tonight Kate, Alex, Abi, Jessica and I took a break from the pub scene to check out a Polish film (with English subtitles, of course) called "Rezerwat," or "Preserve." I tried to keep an eye out for differences between Polish and English cinema, the first one I noticed is that there were no previews! (At least not at this theater.) American megaplexes could take a lesson.

Anyway, brief story synopsis: Marcin, a painfully attractive struggling photographer, gets dumped by his supermodel girlfriend for selling a compromising photo of her father to a newspaper. He moves to a gritty tenement in Warsaw, (I'd normally use the term "ghetto," but in this context it seems rather...inappropriate) where he befriends Hanka, a boarderline alcoholic whose frequent fistfights with her deadbeat boyfriend and supposed sexual escapades are constant fodder for neighborhood gossip. The story centers around Marcin's desire to finally catch his big break with a photography series about the tenement and its inhabitants. Along the way, he gains a deeper understanding of the people, and himself, and ultimately decides to forgo the life of an artiste to run a small photography shop, nurture the career of young Grzesiek, a trouble-making preteen with undeniable talent. And of course, live happily ever after with Hanka.

On a more serious note, the film certainly showcased a different side of Poland: poor, dirty, hopeless, riddled with social problems like rampant alcoholism and domestic violence. The part where they don't send the American students studying abroad. It occurred to me that no matter where you are in the world, the conditions for poverty and its ramifications are strikingly similar. After the film there was one line I couldn't get out of my head. Marcin finds Hanka with a bloody nose and a black eye following another fight with her boyfriend. When he threatens to call the police, she replies, "What kind of man are you if you can't smack your women around a bit?" She said it in a way that suggested she was trying to lighten the mood, but it struck me that the basic ideas about gender that we take for granted, whose particularities we debate from the comfort of a classroom, still have so far to penetrate before they can be called universal.

The Week in Review

It's hard to believe we've been in Krakow for almost a week now. I've spent the past seven days getting used to my new surroundings, learning more about the people with whom I'll be sharing this experience, and trying to find that middle ground between a comfortable routine and an appetite for adventure.

Before I jump into a few of my initial observations, I'd like to comment for a moment on this blog's title: Liz in Transition. I wanted to incorporate the program's academic focus: how Europe is "transitioning" in the wake of the social, economic, and political developments of recent decades, as well as what I hope will be opportunity for intellectual and personal growth as I embark on a few transitions of my own: the transition from comfortable native student to foreigner traveling abroad, the transition from passive observer to contemplative interpretor, and the transition from, as Professor Rowe puts it, "a consumer of knowledge to a producer of knowledge." That last one's a bit lofty, but it's something I like to keep in mind.

So, week 1 in Krakow. These first few days were a whirlwind of activity, with only a few short stretches of unaccounted for time in which I honestly sometimes felt anxious, overwhelmed, and a little homesick. I was glad when our program director, Kim, assigned this field journal, because I thought it would give me the opportunity to turn my attention outward a little bit more. Here's how it's going to work: every day I'll try to jot down some of my basic observations and experiences, things that I noticed out in the streets, or sitting in a cafe, or ordering from a kebab stand, or hanging out at a bar. When I can, I'll try to include some of my personal reflections on those observations or experiences, and also try to tie together how they relate to the ideas we're exploring in our readings and lectures. I'll also try to supplement with extra stuff when I can: photos, videos, links, etc. Sound good?

Ready, set, let's go.

"A beautiful bird, I will not shoot"
Our first full day in Krakow, we had a tour of the city, and I was struck by how much history is here in Krakow, and how much it seems to matter. In the states, nothing is older than 200 years old. Here, it wasn't unusual for the tour guide to note that a particular building was from the fourteenth or fifteenth century. At the start of the tour, he showed us a giant birds'-eye-view map of Krakow, and gave us a short synopsis of the city's history- starting from before the birth of Christ! He would frequently preface an explanation or a story with the phrase "You have to understand the history of _______" (Krakow, Poland, Central Europe, etc.) For instance, he said he always corrects people who pronounce the city's name "Kra-kow," rather than "Kra-kov" because the former is the German pronunciation, and no one wants to be reminded of the German occupation of WWII, or the city's repeated battles with the German Teutonic knights during the Middle Ages. He told us the legend of Poland's founding, when three brothers, Lech, Czech and Rus, were traveling around looking for a place to settle. To make a very long story short, Lech entered a forest looking for some game to shoot and eat, looked up and saw a bald eagle set against the background of a red sunset, was overcome by its beauty, and decided that he had found his new home. Ta-da, Poland! That's kind of a silly example of history, but that symbol is everywhere, and it's clear that it means something to people. Our tour guide was very proud of his country and its contributions to society, Marie Curie, Fredrick Chopin, Joseph Conrad, constitutionalism, religious freedom, the military adademy, etc. Even the main church we visited, St. Mary's Basilica, seemed to be bursting with history; stained glass windows didn't just tell biblical stories, they showcased Poland's flag or Krakow's coat of arms. Every surface of the church was a canvas for illustrating the stories and people that matter to Krakow and to Poland.