I love this random city.

Yesterday proved that.
My financial aid FINALLY came in full, huzzah! So we celebrated (we being Martina and I) by going to going to Nowa Huta and the steel works!!!
Nowa Huta literally means "New Mill," and some interesting background information of the town is that it is pretty unique, at least in Poland. It was built specifically for being a Communist city, seperate from Krakow, with no churches or anything like that. It was built for the workers of the steel plant. It didn't work out entirely that way, because Poland is very Catholic, and they made their own church outside of town (which is now in town) and it eventually connected to Krakow because of expansion, but it's still a cool place. At first thought, you think, "Built by Communists--hm. A town of block flats and squares? Nice." But in reality, this city is really quite nice. There are parks everywhere, with things growing all over the place and children playing. The main street, Aleja Roz, is the street of roses, and there are roses growing everywhere. It's spacious and airy, and even the blocks (cos they are there) look rather homey. Nowa Huta has quite a bad reputation in Krakow as being unsafe, but one of our guides lives there, and she said it was grossly exaggerated. It was a nice place. Clean.
The steel works were REALLY cool. First of all, they gave us these cool blue jackets, yellow hard hats, and glasses to wear and then told us no cameras were allowed inside at all. They also took our passport numbers to make sure we weren't spies! Anyway. It was really cool. It's like a whole steel city behind their gates. There are about 200 kilometres of roads back there, and there are pipes running every which way around. It's really something to see. We also got to see how they pour the molten steel into molds to make these huge bars. They were still glowing orange when they would come out, and they would be rolled and stacked and then carried onto a train car by a massive hand clamp. The next building we actually got to see molten steel flowing into a little river at the furnace. It was crazy. It was flaming orange and you could feel the heat from metres away. There was this little window we were looking through, and he turned on a bit of the fan or something to show us what happened. Honestly, it was rather strange to see something so absolutely beautiful in an industrial place like that, where we could smell burning metal and inhaled bits of dust the whole time, but this really was. The orange steel flowed over from the left and down into a pool below it that was pulsing and moving around. Everything around it was brown and stained with black, but these little bits of burning metal were zooming around inside looking like little shooting stars. When the worker turned the fan on, they went crazy, the the whole thing was glowing orange and shining and sparkling. The worker seemed just as enthralled as we were. He was speaking passionately as he explained to us what was happening. I couldn't hear a word he said, because it was so loud, but his voice spoke volumes. He was truly proud and excited about his work. So many people look on factory workers as lower, blue-collar people who are poor and probably hate their jobs. That wasn't true with this guy. He was so excited about it. He loved showing us what it was doing. Anyway.
The workers there actually earn pretty well for Poland, which is still nothing for most of the West, so don't keel over. The average Pole makes about 750 Polish zlotys a month. These guys make about 1200, so that's quite good. Still not as good as it should be, but what can you do? At least it is slowly improving.
So, it was cool.
Following that, we visited a church that was incredibly interesting. The architecture was rather post-modernist, which is rather strange for a Catholic church in Poland. As you can see from the above picture, it's not particularly orthodox. :) Very cool though.
After that, we went to Ikea, where I bought a duvet cover and a towel and a few other minor things. It was pretty exciting. Amazing the difference money makes.

Some thoughts on some personal stuff

After that suitably vague introduction, you might be curious as to what I mean by that. Well, today I have been giving some thought to the ideas of dependence and trust. To drag its relevance out of life, I am currently in a situation where I am learning a lot about those two things.
First of all, I should state that I am an incredibly independent person. Ask anyone. Ask my mom. I am the girl who jets off to Scotland or Poland or Rome or Spain without once looking back. I trot all over the world, and I enjoy doing it. In fact, I thrive off of my independence. I'm what you might call a free-spirit. And right now, I am finding myself in a situation in which I am forced to be completely dependent upon a rather indifferent third party. I am about 7,000 miles away from home in a country where I cannot legally work, and I am broke. When I left the States this time, it was with the assurances that after a week, I would have all my money for the semester, which, is enough to pay for necessities and leave a good cushion for leeway in case of an emergency or whatnot. However, it's been nearly a week since that deadline came and went, and I am still money-less. If it wasn't for my parents and a rather fortuitous chunk of money that they just happen to have, I would be homeless as well, and foodless. So, I am dependent on the charity of others (which, I have to say, I have received a good deal of generous offers from dear friends and family).
I hate it.
I'm realizing through this that I am completely dependent...upon my independence. I resent having to depend on others. I feel much more vulnerable when I am dependent upon someone else than when I am dependent solely upon myself.
It's an interesting revelation, really. With it comes the philosophical musings that I am fully capable of holding someone next to my heart and not trusting them, really. I'm not entirely sure if I like that about myself, but at the same time, it is a big part of who I am, this independence. As an example of something I have taken to saying lately, "I like people in theory."
Meaning that I have a great deal of respect for people--warts and all. It's just that I like liking them from a distance. In practice, I'm much more of an introvert nearly to an extreme.
This isn't to say that I'm incapable of being close to people--in fact, quite to the contrary. In the past year, my bonds with my family have been strengthened a very great deal, and I feel very close to them. In addition to that, I am fortunate enough to have a number of people, mostly women, with whom I can be completely open, without fear of reproach or judgement.
The problems arise when I am forced to be dependent upon someone (or a group of someones) who are rather indifferent to me. People I don't choose to trust. In this case, the people at financial aid. In fact, they've already broken my trust. They told me that I would be taken care of, and I'm not. Other people are filling in for the gaps they've left. And I'm kind of in a place where I have to trust them. Even though they quite frankly don't deserve it. I'm pretty fed up with them. It's not my parents' and friends' jobs to make sure that I can pay for this semester when I've been awarded a certain amount of money by the US government, no less. Given for the specific purpose of supporting me this year.
Because that is the case, I feel rotten when I accept loans from my parents. And I feel bad when my friends (also poor college students) offer me money. It's kind of awful being in this amazing city and kind of stuck inside because I can't afford to pay for this exhibit I want to go to at a museum about Krakow in Medieval Christian Europe. It's not my loved ones' post to give me money.
There is nothing I hate more than feeling helpless. I realized how much when I burst into tears this afternoon because the money is still not in my account. I've been checking every day, every few hours, just hoping it will just show up. I'm not much of a crier. I might cry for random things, like the thought of 100 Poles being in concentration camps in southern Italy right now (true story) or the fact that a Palestinian/American man is about to be deported after 13 years of three-month tourist visas just to be with his family in Gaza (also true story). But I don't often cry for myself. I surprised myself when I just burst into tears earlier. I feel helpless and vulnerable, and I really don't like it.
In spite of that, however, I am choosing to trust that the money will show up before it's too late. That somehow it will work out, and it won't screw up my entire year. So, let's all hope that even though they don't deserve me trusting them, they'll pull through this week, eh?

Przyjeta!

So today I received my official acceptance letter to Uniwersytet Jagiellonski. Hurrah! Now I can go get my new visa and pay them $4000. Woo hoo.
Anyway.
Not much is new today. I feel lazy. Probably due to the fact that I really have nothing to do. actually, allow me to rephrase that: I have a lot to do, but 90% of it involves money for the doing, so I can't do any of it. For instance, paying for school, buying household necessities, visiting some historical places and museums. Those are things that I would like to have done, you know, before classes start, because I won't have time after class starts, seeing as how I will be taking about 7 classes this semester. Five with the program, two without. (French and German) I am quite excited about my classes though. Including the three language classes. :) For all of you who have cooed over my "skills," here's a year where they will be put through the ringer. Let's see, shall we? I figure, even if I don't get credit for the French and German classes, it will be A: a very good experience (they will be taught in Polish at first!), B: cheaper than in the States ($400 a semester for both languages together), C: a brilliant way to meet like-minded Polish people. Plus, I have both a German and a French flatmate, so hey, instant practice. It'll be like living with tandem partners.
Plus Polish class. Which this year, I will definitely try to get into one that is more on my level. And by the way, I have no clue what that means. :) My Polish has gotten better. It has, it has. However, I am still barely (I repeat for emphasis) barely at a conversational level. I just mainly need more practice. Martina was telling me the same thing. She at least can speak fluidly, but she says that she still feels scared because she uses childish words that (literally) only three and four-year-olds use a lot of the time because that's when she left Poland, and her parents (thanks, Mom and Dad) didn't correct her as she grew. So both of us need practice speaking, speaking, and speaking. While I can order at a restaurant with a good deal of aplomb, trying to have an intelligent conversation about more than the weather or the basics of my stay in Krakow immediately disintegrates into me ho-humming and trying to figure out words.
However, I'm confident that by the end of this year, I still won't be good enough. :) But I will damn well try. It's so funny how relative it is to others--looking in from the outside, I get these amazed English speakers who are tickled pink that I speak Polish. But from a Pole's perspective, I sound like a third grader. Actually, worse than that. I sound like a mentally challenged third grader trying to speak like an adult. I worry too much about grammar and declensions and whatnot, when I should just speak around the words I don't know. In my head and in the solitude of my bedroom, I can do this, but it's quite different on the spot. Nervousier. *grin*
Anyway, enough about my linguistical acrobatics.
I am really excited for this year. With all the loan pyrotechnics and stress of being far away and dependent on an indifferent group of personages in an office somewhere (SFS), I haven't really gotten much of a chance to really express how happy I truly am to be here. This city is in all honesty, a place of wonder. In sheer physical beauty, it is rather unparalleled, and I'm quite smugly proud to get to live here just for that. To walk two blocks and see the spectacular Wawel Castle situated on its hill above the Wisla (Vistula) River is really something else. In addition to that, one of the largest market squares in all of Europe is ten minutes in the other direction, with the soaring Ratusz tower and St. Mary's Church and the Sukiennice dominating the view. Everywhere you go, there is something to see and do. The people are friendly and helpful. They are also quite open to the hordes of foreign students (although they are a little bewildered as to what to do with the masses of tourists that have begun to come to town), and they are even more friendly when they find that a lot of us really do want to learn Polish. On top of all that, it is still a city with thousands of these little hidden surprises: night clubs, bars that regularly have live music, little cafes, random fireworks displays and skydivers, and on top of all of it, it is in Poland. The country itself is absolutely gorgeous. Just to the northwest of town, as I was flying in, I saw all these agricultural fields preparing for harvest, and they were unlike anything I've ever seen before. Many of them were this deep steel blue color that was quite visible from my airborne vantage point. The sun was shining as we landed, and the entire countryside was backlit with gold, rather proving Robert Frost correct when he said that "nature's first gold is green," even if that's not exactly what he meant by it. The Tatra Mountains to the south around Zakopane are stunning, jagged peaks. In winter they are covered with snow and completely annex the entire skyline, and in summer they are a bit more mild, with green valleys and trickling brooks. To the north, there are rolling hills and enough lakes to put Minnesota to shame.
So, yeah. I feel pretty special to be here. Dr. Dyck, if you read this, thanks very sincerely again for everything you've done to help me out. I will track down the perfect cross for you this year. I told my cousin in an email the other day that I think that (I know that) when I finally do finish my undergraduate, I will be able to say with an extreme amount of confidence that I learned. And that my education has been rounded, full, and interdisciplinary. :) The name of the program I am a part of here in Krakow is called the Międzywydziałowe Indywidualne Studia Humanistyczne, which quite literally means "Interdisciplinary Individual Studies in the Humanities." I think it's quite fitting, both if you take it literally/acedemically and figuratively. :)
Thus, (and you heard it here first, folks) my $40,000 or so of loans after this year? Worth it. And if anyone feels the urge to donate to the Emily Owes Her Life to Sallie Mae Fund, let me know at the end of the year. *grin*

Fajerwerki, Squid, Miss World, and a Five-Star Hotel

You know, it's funny how sometimes the most random things turn out to be the coolest. I'm sure you want a 'for instance,' so here it is. When you're walking across the Rynek, and you realize that everyone is looking at the sky for no apparent reason, and you look up and there is a plane flying by, and all of the sudden, these little specks fall out of the sky, and they're skydivers.
Or, in the 'for instance' of last night, you are sitting at your computer, when you hear several very large bangs, and you go out onto your balcony to see an explosion of green and yellow sparks in the air. And on closer inspection (after hurriedly running down four storeys of stairs and down the block), you find that the castle and river are incredibly close to your flat and that there is a spectacular fireworks display going on.
Martina and I stood by the river and watched these amazing fireworks for about fifteen minutes. there were Glorious dahlia-shaped showers of red-gold sparkles, emerald and crimson shooting stars, and finally a series of soaring green and red and yellow galaxies that culminated in shining white fairylights that spread across our entire vision and created the feeling that we were flying into the very stars. It was very likely the most fantastical show of firework craftsmanship I think I've ever seen. And in addition to this, they were exploding in the foreground of a stunning backlit medieval castle over a river that was covered in the strangest floating giant balloons pulled by small motorboats. There was a humongous pink squid with doe eyes hovering near an unidentified neighbour that looked to be a cross between a crawfish, a spider, and a porcupine. Lying closer to the water was a brown and green tyrannosaurus rex and something like a stegosaurus.
Following the end of the fireworks, we inquired as to the occasion, and were told that it was a celebration about Miss World. Which, given the fireworks, and you know, the squid, made some obscure sort of sense, I'm sure.
On the way home, we walked past the Sheraton, which is a five-star hotel in town, and decided to just go in for a peek. We walked around a bit (happily not being asked to leave), and decided that some time we will go for their weekly Sunday brunch that costs an extravagant 99 zloty, but is all you can eat and quite an interesting experience, one supposes.
All in all, that is one of the coolest things I think I have ever stumbled upon in this city.
Every day is always a surprise.
Oh, and PS: I have another blog on blogspot reserved for my political rantings when I get the inclination. You don't have to read it. It's just there if you want to. And there's nothing that cool in it yet. But this is the link: http://www.mysliemilii.blogspot.com

Okay...

Okay, this is the most disgusting thing I have seen in a very, very long time. It makes me sick--absolutely sick. And I think people should read it, so I'm posting the link for you. Anyone who knows me and has had a chat with me about Polish history will understand why this is so awful. The concept of this happening to Poles in Italy now....I don't have words to describe my horror. I'm not being melodramatic, either.
The faces and information about these people are also posted on the wall of a church one block away from my home.

Emilia so happy

Today was quite full of surprises. The first surprise was that TA DA! My loans did NOT come!!!

Doo-dee-doo....dee....uh....d'oh.

Yeah. So much for that promise. We'll see if they show up tomorrow. Because I am in DESPARATE need of a towel. And, you know. Food.

So, you're probably wondering why I titled this "Emilia so happy." First of all, I heard this Polish guy singing, "I so happy" on the way home tonight, so that was a flash of inspiration, but secondly, it's true. Due to the other surprises of today!

Just a bit of back story, yesterday I was walking around and saw this guy who was very trendily sporty, and since I was walking behind him a bit, I tried to puzzle out his nationality, with no avail. Usually I'm really good at that, just based on clothes. One of these days, I will explain. :) Okay.

Anyway, I was sitting in my room this afternoon when my mobile rang. My first thought was, "Who on earth is calling me?" I looked at my phone, and it was MARCO. Marco was one of my closest buddies last semester. We were in the same Polish class and hung out almost every day with our friend Alvaro. And he is in KRAKOW. As opposed to Milan. So we planned to go dancing tonight, and I met him at an old favorite bar, Piekny Pies. I got there, and he was sitting at a table with A: Charles, a Belgian guy also from our Polish class, and B: Random trendy sporty guy from yesterday, whose name is Gabriel and is also Italian and knows Marco and Charles (he and Charles teach Italian and French respectively at the university). Random, random, random.

We went to a favorite club after a while and danced to Polish music, which was so much fun, because it was just like last semester. I really missed Marco this summer, and I was so incredibly thrilled that he called me today. After that, we went to The Hangout from last year, Lubu Dubu. It was fun, but also late, and I was tired. While everybody else danced, I sat near the dancefloor and pondered memories of Lubu Dubu. I started thinking about this guy Dominik, who was a pretty good friend I didn't get to say goodbye to, because he went back to Germany to have knee surgery unexpectedly at the end of the semester. I was bummed, because I knew I would never see him again. Lubu Dubu has so many fun memories attached. It is close to where I lived last year, so we were there a lot, and it was always a riot, because they play this awful 80s music all the time, and everybody dances like complete idiots, but no one cares at all. Anyway, I got tired, so I grabbed my jacket and said goodbye to the friends for the night. I turned the corner to head out the door, and BAM.

Probably the biggest surprise of the day: Dominik. Who looked as shocked to see me as I did to see him. He's back in town to take a few exams, and staying with another friend, Robert. So I walked with them a bit, and we're going to hang out on Monday.

What a day. So, yeah, I so happy. Seeing Marco and Dominik especially made my life, I think. lol. I was so excited.

So that was my day. Hoping that the morning will come with a nice monetary surprise so I can buy food and a towel. Especially since they explicitly said, "the first deposit will be in your account by Thursday." They have four hours and 44 minutes to fulfill it. I'll give them leeway because of the time difference. But I have to pay my tuition, um...Monday. So this is cutting it too close for my comfort. Too close, I say.

But that's enough of that. Overall, very happy day. Get to see Marco tomorrow too, hurrah, and Dominik Monday. Yay for that.

What do YOU do after heart surgery?

I wasn't really planning on writing today, but I'm here at the internet cafe, so I thought, hey, why not?
Just so you know, I now have a home. Yesterday I met with the nice people at Rentsellers Group (I will never understand why people pick English names for stuff here) and went to go see my probable new flat. I walked in and was rather blindsided. It is beeeeeeeeeeeeeautiful. Hardwood floors, white walls. My room is the biggest (and most expensive), and I nearly keeled over when I saw it. It's big and square, with a large wardrobe and two small tables that are a nice light wood color. It has an entire wall of windows in addition to a balcony. Yep, balcony. Amazing. The bathroom is gorgeous also. The walls are covered with rose-patterned tile, and there is a very deep bathtub that made me incredibly happy to see. Everything's good. I even have a rolly chair for my desk/table. Anyway, I shelled out a ridiculous sum of money for the flat (920 pln deposit, 920 pln rent, and 460 pln agency fee), which, without my parents sending me more than I asked for, wouldn't have happened. I wasn't counting on the agency fee. The good thing is, I get the deposit back when I move out, and I'm paid through the 12th of October.
Anyway, I'm quite happy with that. I'm very much looking forward to sleeping in a home tonight--in my very own bed, no less.
Moving to the flat this morning was an ordeal. I had to take two trips because I'm ridiculous and have too much stuff. TOO MUCH. Egad, Brain. Seriously. True to Emily form, half of my belongings are books (see picture to right). BOOKS. Can we say...heavy? Once more, with feeling. The taxi drivers were amused. Especially the second one, who laughed at me and assumed I didn't speak Polish, but then we had a nice conversation about one-way streets, because he got lost. That was amusing...a taxi driver...lost. Yeah. Anyway, when we got to my flat, there was this little old guy coming out of the gate to my building, and he saw me with my elephant suitcase and promptly offered to help. I thought he was just offering to carry it to the door, but he didn't. Oh, no. This tiny, rather withered little old man started trucking right up the stairs with my 60-pound suitcase. I told him apologetically and a bit caution...arily...that I live on the fourth floor. Which in Poland means the fifth floor, because they don't count the ground floor like the Americans do. Also, there is one flight of stairs before you even get to floor "P," which is the ground floor. So I told him I could do it, because I was slightly frightened that he would hurt himself. The bag was pretty much bigger than he was. He insisted, though, and kept on going. About five flights of stairs up, he started struggling a bit, and I offered to carry half of it, which he refused again and kept going. I was starting to feel rather abashed, because I only was carrying my little purse, and this guy looked like he might die on the spot. A couple more flights up (remember: two flights per floor), he confessed, "Jestem po operacji serca." I just kind of stared at him, because THAT means he had heart surgery recently. HEART SURGERY! And here he was, lugging my gigantic suitcase up 11 flights of stairs. I thanked him about fifty times on the way up and kept offering to take half of it, but he wouldn't hear it, even though by the last three flights, he was heavily panting and having to do the step with both feet on the stairs thing that little kids do. I felt so incredibly awkward. I myself carried my other book-laden bag up the stairs earlier, and it just about killed me. And I think I'm a bit more robust than this guy. Anyway. He got it all the way to my door, and I thanked him with all the gushy adverbs I could muster, and he just said I was welcome, smiled, and went back downstairs. Amazing. My back was very grateful, but I was shocked that he didn't kill himself, seriously. When I say old, I mean the guy was at least 75. So...yikes. And he was smaller than me. Granted, I'm quite tall, but still....sheesh.
So, the moral of this story is...um...I guess "keep on, keep on, keep on, keep on dancin'..." Or something.
This concludes my second entry. I am going to go buy some coffee, I think. And then go buy some groceries. Because hey, food. And some food for you--here are some more pictures of my flat.

Post pierwszy

Well, hello. And welcome to my little world that exists mainly in my mind, but also in Poland, so if you really want to find me, you can. :)
I'm stealing this idea from my good Oxfordian buddy Mr. Trevor, mainly because I'm rather lazy.
To start at the beginning--a very good place to start--I arrived here in beautiful Krakow on Friday of last week. It's been an interesting thing so far. I'm staying in this student dorm that rents out rooms in the summer. It's nice. Quiet. Remote. Actually, it's in the Miasteczko Studenckie (Student Village), which by definition should be loud and full of beer, but since classes have yet to start, it's still pretty mellow. The first few days have been kind of tough. I came over here with a very empty pocketbook, which has stressed me out quite a bit. To the point where I couldn't afford to buy food, and therefore spent the last four days eating nothing but bread and water and possibly a yogurt. I've been living in this city since February, and it's nice to be somewhere familiar...however, most of the things that made it familiar are gone--scattered back to their home countries across the world.
Yesterday as I walked around, I was passing all these places I knew so well: the busy Teatr Bagatela, the tourist-infested Rynek (the main square), Empik bookstore, the Ratusz tower, the Planty that encircles the Old Town. It felt so different. Last year I could literally press a button and talk to Jess or Paul or Maria or any of the other people I knew so well, but now they're all gone, and I'm here. It's amazing how the people make a place. I was probably a rather pitiful sight yesterday. Hungry. Kind of lost and frightened. No money and no house really.
At some point, though, something changed. I was sitting in this very internet cafe, typing a depressing email to my mommy, and I heard some people behind me talking about the Erasmus program in German (Randomly, I do on occasion inexplicably understand German. Don't ask why.), so I asked them if they were Erasmus students. They weren't, but one of their friends was, so we all started talking. There were a couple people from Germany, a Scottish girl from the lovely city of St. Andrews, and an Austrian guy, who was the Erasmus friend of theirs. It was nice. I remembered that everyone was just showing up. Not just me. Austrian guy--his name is Severin--will be here until next summer, just like me. So it's really not a factor that I don't know anyone yet. I will. Later yesterday, I met up with my friend Justyna, who helps me with Polish. It was quite nice to see a familiar face. We're also going to bump up our language studies this year in terms of conversation and writing skills, so I will actually have weekly Polish homework. Yay? :)
Anyway. My parents decided to bail me out monetarily with a loan to get me into a flat, so there went that burden. I actually had a real meal today. This morning I woke up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 7 and came to town. Picked up my money from Western Union, and happily spoke Polish with the guy, who instead of automatically switching to English when I got stuck on a word, translated it and then kept on with the Polish.
I had a meeting with the housing people at 10, so I ended up walking down Starowislna street toward Berka Joselewicza, which is where I lived last spring. Everything about that was familiar. Every curve in the street and shop on the corners. In fact, when I passed the friendly neighborhood Kefirek (a little store), I even saw a familiar face in their security guard. After the meeting, I went to a little cafe, bagelmama, where they sell bagels and tex-mex. To the amused surprise of the workers, I had a burrito for breakfast and had a nice long chat with the people who work there.
So in a nutshell, I've learned a lot today. Here it is.

~The world keeps on turning, even when you're not paying attention.
~When someone says, "Ex-squeeze me," it doesn't necessarily mean they are American--in the case of the bagelmama guy, he just lived Stateside for ten years and learned how to speak Wayne.
~Polish people inevitably get this look on their faces when they find out that A: I'm American and speak Polish and B: Do not have any Polish roots--a look that rather resembles what I think they would look like if they walked in on someone picking their nose. They never quite know what to do with me. Someday, I WILL catch that look on camera.
~It is possible to find good Tex-Mex in Poland. I just proved it. Bagelmama is brilliant, and I think I will make a habit out of eating there.
~The Fransiscan Cathedral is still stunning and one of the most peaceful places in this city.
~There is a very lovely tree on the Planty that I really like the look of.
~If my feet had an odometer, they would be clocking up miles today.
~While I don't speak apartment-seeking Polish, I apparently speak Polish well enough when I concentrate to fool the average Polish person at least for a minute.
~There are still pigeons everywhere in this city.
~By tomorrow, I might have a home. That calls for a resounding huzzah.

So, gentle readers, here is my first post in my Poland journal. Until next time, trzymaj sie, i wszystko dobrego.