Torun, Poland

Greetings from beautiful red Torun, the home of Copernicus! I am here staying with my fried Kathe who I met while on the farm, and sadly I am in bed with an achy body and a brutal sore throat. I am watching my chest for signs of a rash, at which point I will venture into the Polish medical system for Strep throat drugs.  Thank you mom, for the consistently sound medical advice, and for making faces at me while on skype video chat.

Things I have learned about Torun so far is that is has 120,00 inhabitants, cathedrals with original frescos that are thousands of years old, and lots of statues, including one of frogs. Speaking of frogs, Kathe told me there was a story on the radio a few months ago about a large vat of vodka that broke during transport, seeped into a lake, where frogs drank it and then ATTACKED A COW! Amazing. Also a great premise for a children's book. So far I have a series in mind, about dancing goats and drunk frogs. Maybe I should call it, 'Animals on Drugs, and other Fables.'

Last saturday I bid a teary and fond farewell to Ewa, Peter, Granny, and Anna at Gryzbow farm. After 3 weeks there, I was surprised at how deeply I'd connected with my experience.  I think the best experiences many times sneak upon us like bed bugs in the night, and we are left with an experience that covers us completely, and has caught us unaware.  I hugged the kittens, tried in vain to milk the cows one more time, pet some goats and looked into their large, wide set eyes, ate my last dinner of soup, meat, and bread with cheese and beets mixed with horseradish, and I boarded the village bus for Warsaw. That evening I arrived by train in Krakow, to spend a few more days wandering around the spires and cobblestone squares and walk along the river. I found the Jewish Quarter, Kazimierz, as dark was falling.  I walked up to the old synagogue right as a car drove by blaring Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah," at which point I though I might fall over from the beauty of the damn moment.

I wandered into a bookstore and read a very interesting chapter of a book which was written following a conference on the Urban Regeneration of Jewish Quarters in Eastern European cities. It brought up some weighty questions about real versus imagined space that is created in what some believe to be a sort of 'Disneyland' themed experience which now invites tourists to experience what Jewish life was really like. Of course, in reality so much of it was destroyed, but preserving historic sites has become a priority in the last 15 years or so. Food for thought.

While in Krakow I had a perfect cup of tea at a quaint bar in the old town square, bought some schwag for my sisters, and met some lovely folks in the hostel in which I was staying.  There were 2 very friendly  Australian couples, some other young Aussies who LOVED their beer, and 3 very attractive Brazilians, one of whom I got along quite well with. Feel free to infer a little bit there, folks.

The day before I left I made the decision to visit the concentration camps Auschwitz and Birkenau. I had been reluctant to visit, and scared of what I might see, but now I am glad that I chose to go. Our guide was a gracious, very grounded woman who has been leading tours for many years, and grew up in a neighbouring town.  Her grandparents were part of the Polish resistance movement during the war, and she said one day her grandmother took her mother outside, where they could smell and see the smoke from the crematorium, and told her what it was, so that she would know.  I don't want to trivialize or try to explain too much about the experience- I think it is better left sorted through on one's own if you have the opportunity to visit. There were a few things that made me want to break into pieces, and times when the enormity of it was very difficult to truly take in.

I will be here for the next few days, hopefully on a quick mend back to health, and then headed to Warsaw for at least a day or two before making the long trek back to Frankfurt. From there I will be flying to Turkey for the last 4 weeks of my face melting, challenging, all around incredible journey.

I will leave you with this description of character of the week:  In the hostel, the Polish guy working night shift told me about a local musical legend, a piano player who is in his early eighties. He wears sunglasses and thinks he is Ray Charles, though he is not blind.  He did lose both of his legs though, but despite amputations continues to ride his self made, 5 wheeled bicycle to gigs. He lives with his 97 year old mother, and sings songs at a local bar every week. Generally his songs consist of the following topics: alcohol, women, and asses that have teeth in them and can attack you.  A great sadness of my life is that I was not in Krakow on a Friday to witness this myself. However, we all need a reason to go back to a place, and this is mine.

with love,
Lindsey