On to Krakow

We took a train from Warsaw to Krakow in order to experience how the local people travel (Father Symeon wanted to save the luxury of a rental car for later!) and found ourselves quite comfortable in a first class cabin for six.  We were somehow able to hoist all of our luggage into the racks above our seats and settle in for the three hour trip to the home of Symeon's cousins.  Time passed fairly quickly as we enjoyed the views of the countryside outside our window, which was being opened by us and closed by our cabin-mate as we tried to ward off heat and wind by turns.  My son Connor had purchased a magnetic chessboard for the occasion and he and Father Symeon were passing it back and forth across their laps with occasional exclamations of victory and defeat.  It was a fun diversion for them and for Courtney and me too, as we watched them spar.

Before long we were seated on a bench at the train station in Krakow, awaiting the arrival of  Symeon's cousin Adam, who would wisk us away to his home on a farm just east of the city.  After a little while of waiting, we were soon swept up by him as he greeted Symeon, grabbed one of our suitcases, and began walking full speed down the platform, down a ramp and into a tunnel, then out into a parking lot where his truck was parked. He loaded all of our bags into the back (with nary a complaint!), helped us into the back seat and then sat up in front with Symeon as he drove us away.  He talked and he gestured and he laughed and he smiled as he caught up with Symeon as we flew down the highway toward his home.  When we arrived, we received a warm Polish welcome from his mother, his wife, his daughter and two sons, and the many other family members and friends who came in and out during the time that we were there.

I think I have written to you a few weeks ago about our stay on their farm.  It was a real highlight of the trip for all of us, giving us a chance to meet and converse with many people and to be so generously provided for by his whole family in every way possible during our stay.   One of the things they gave us was the use of their car during our stay.  This allowed us to travel much more quickly and efficiently and comfortably too, to the outlying sights we were planning to see, and we readily accepted their generosity.

The only catch was that I was the only one who could drive a stick-shift car and so I would be doing the driving....!  The next morning Adam took me on an early morning errand to pick up something for his business and give me a chance to learn how to drive.  He didn't speak much English and I certainly didn't know Polish, but between the two of us we managed to get there and back despite the fact that I didn't understand their signs too well ...(a yellow diamond means that I have priority and should not yield and a yellow triangle with a red band around it means the other driver has right-of way).   When we arrived back at his house, he critiqued my driving with Symeon and asked him to explain to me the signs I did not understand.  He said I was a good driver....and I must admit that he is a far more relaxed and patient driving teacher than I have been in the past....hopefully I have learned not only how to drive in Poland, but also how to be a patient teacher for my teenaged kids  too.)

With that, we loaded the kids into the backseat of the car, and Symeon and I set out to find our way to  Oswiecim, Poland where former concentration camps Auschwitz I and Auschwitz II- Birkenau are located. 

http://en.auschwitz.org/z/

Warsaw

August 22, 2013

When we were planning our trip to Poland, we tried to include people and places that would interest each of us and enrich the experience for everyone.   Father Symeon was most interested in visiting his large extended family, I hoped to venture to religious pilgrimage sites, and the kids were interested in touring castles, World War II sites, and thriving university towns.

This was a wonderful way to see the country and we saw a rich cross section of Poland as a result.  We began by flying into Warsaw where we stayed two nights in the iconic Hotel Bristol adjacent to the picturesque Old Town which was completely rebuilt following the war.   We ate pierogis, which are goodie-filled dumplings both steamed and fried, drank "bread juice" tea and sampled the local beer on our first day in town.  And we feasted on sumptuous breakfasts of cold cuts, hard cheeses, crispy bacon, local breads, eggs prepared in various ways, fresh tomatoes and cucumbers, juices, and coffee.   It seems impossible to believe, but we didn't seem to gain any weight while we were there, and that is not a reflection of our liking of the food, but rather a tribute to the walking that we did all day and everyday our whole trip through!

We found the city to be sunny and hot by day and dreamy by night as the streets filled with people taking strolls in the cool evening air, enjoying a little outside time before going to bed.  We walked past huge old churches like St. Anne's which had been spared from damage during the war, past musical benches playing tunes by Chopin, along sidewalk containers of colorful flowers spilling over the sides, toward palaces and monuments and many restaurants with seating outside.  

And we were able to get around without too much difficulty as the city is well marked and clean and safe.  To our surprise, many people spoke English if asked, especially the twenty-somethings who learned it school.  Of course it didn't hurt to have a native Polish speaker with us, but I don't think it is necessary and anyone would find the people helpful and happy to have visitors from the U.S. in their midst.  In fact we often heard, "Tell all whom you know that Poland is a wonderful place to visit!"  (And granted, this could have been Father Symeon saying it over and over again...and indeed it was! But I think we heard it from his large family and from others too.)  And truly, we all agree!

For more information, visit their official website:  http://www.um.warszawa.pl/en

A Message from Home

August 22, 2013

Dear Friends,

I have been home for almost a week from our amazing trip through Poland and I am beginning to feel rested once again.  As I was wading through the email that had accumulated while we were gone, I found this (amusing) note from my sister:

-----Original Message-----
From: Gail Donovan 

Sent: Monday, August 05, 2013 5:29 PM
To: Ronda Watts
Cc: Courtney Watts; Connor Watts
Subject: Hi!!!

Hi Kids!

I hope you're having a great time! I, myself, am getting bored rereading
Ronda's ONE POST! C'mon! Throw us a bone ;)

Ronda, I'm home now and available to "chat" when you get the chance
(goodness knows, you aren't spending your time blogging). jk :)

Love you all,
Gail=
------------

There is no one like family to keep you in line!  And of course, she is right!     So I would like to make up for it now and write about a few of the things that we experienced on our trip.  Hope you will forgive me and stay tuned!

xoxo Ronda

Polish Hospitality

It's 6:30 AM on August 9th and I've just woken up to the sound of roof tiles being thrown to the pavement below as workers renovate the building next door to our hotel.  Our room is decorated with hand painted wooden furniture, three single beds with iron rails, two dressing tables, and several small chairs.  There are two large windows dressed with draperies and window shears that let in the breeze as the temperature cools off during the night from the unseasonably hot and humid weather during the day.

When I went down to the front desk at 11 PM two nights ago to inquire about a fan for our room, the young woman stationed there gave us her own little fan from her work area and only asked that we return it by morning.  Her generosity surprised and delighted me and the fan helped with the heat exchange in our room immensely.  The next day I was amazed once again when we returned to the hotel after our morning outing to Castle Ksiaz and there was a much larger fan on a stand waiting at the front desk for us.

 Another sign of Polish hospitality are the words "Prosze" (prosh-eh) and "Dziekuje" (Jen KOO yeh) for "Please/Here you are" and "Thank you" which we've heard throughout each and every day.  Since we are here during August we are visiting the attractions along with the Polish people who traditionally take their own vacations at this time of the year.  At the castles and gardens and churches and towns that we've ventured into, we've been able to see signs in English.  Items for purchase, like coffee table books for instance, are almost exclusively offered in Polish.  But menus in "Angielski" or "English" at restaurants are usually produced once we begin to speak and are identified as Amerykanin/Amerykanka citizens.

Our conversations with Symeon's extended family have helped us to know that the Polish people regard their relationship as allies with America throughout the years very highly.  As a result many are fascinated with our lives in America and welcome foreign travelers to their cities and towns and even their homes with legendary hospitality.

We have been overwhelmed with the wonderful meals full of traditional dishes prepared for us by Symeon's family, their constant encouragement to eat and to eat and to  
try everything, their hours of conversation with us as we sit around large and welcoming tables talking back and forth and laughing, their interest in us as people and their willingness to share their lives with us as well, their gracious acceptance of the small gifts that we brought with us from America, and their surprising offering of personal gifts to us and to my husband at home in thanks for our coming to visit.

Yes, we have been warmly welcomed not only by our host Father Symeon, his parents and sister and aunts and cousins, but also by the people of the country itself.  And now we too can speak with appreciation and amazement of the hospitality often offered with this expression of good will, "Na zdrowi!" (Naz-droh-vee-ay!)

Lapczyca

It's a hot and sunny Sunday morning in the little town of Lapczyca just East of Krakow and I'm sitting under a grape arbor on a wooden wagon wheel bench on the family farm of Father Symeon.  On Wednesday we were warmly greeted by his elderly aunt who owns the farm and still maintains her own house and the barn in which she keeps two large sows and eight piglets, along with a number of chickens raised for their tender organic meat, and the fruit orchards in several small gardens surrounding the home.  Her son Adam and his wife and three children have a house that shares the property and they help to plow the fields, plant crops of plant potatoes and wheat, and harvest the produce when growing season is through.

Adam's wife Malgosia and their daughter Ania are in the kitchen preparing a luncheon for the ever expanding and shrinking group of people who gather here throughout the day and evening.   Adam is the man of the house who runs a metal working business and works the farm "as just a hobby" since it no longer earns enough to support them all.  He has just come outside to sit on the bench across from me with his cup of coffee to watch me type on my wireless keyboard.  Although we don't share much language in common, it is not hard to understand when he holds out both hands to mime "touch typing", say "nie" and then proceed to point one finger and then the next at an imaginary keyboard to show me that he must hunt and peck at his computer instead.  Then I point to myself and say "secretary" and he laughs and gets up to return to the kitchen, still shaking his head.  This is just one sign of the friendliness and humor with which he and his family has welcomed us.

Yesterday the family joined Father Symeon, the kids, and I as we toured the Niedzica castle situated on a lovely mountain lake about 90 minutes from here.  The nine of us took two cars and we wound through the scenic hills dotted with chalets displaying cheerful flower boxes and tiny marian shrines.  Most families and indeed the whole country is consecrated to the Virgin thanks to her intercession in times of trouble throughout the ages in response to their prayers.  

The church bells are ringing in the distance now and I can hear the rustling of silverware as the table is set for lunch.  It is a day for Mass, a visit to the family cemetary plot, a brief rest, and then a trip into Krakow for the afternoon.  It is truly a blessing to be in the heart of  Europe in the Southern part of Poland, with a family who loves having company and a little distraction from the heavy demands of their work the rest of the year.  I teared up yesterday as I told Father Symeon that we could never repay them for their hospitality, but that I hoped that they knew what an honor it is to be with them in this most beautiful place. 

The Way

When I posted my first blog entry the other day, my friend Anthony commented, "What happened to Camino de Santiago?" and rightly so!  Ever since I first heard of the pilgrimage to the burial place of St. James in Spain (as a twelve year old in a book by Shirley MacLaine!), I was fascinated with the idea of making the 500 mile journey that has been traversed through the ages by all likes of people for all sorts of reasons.  For me, it would be a spiritual quest toward God in the company of many interesting others who are also on the way.

But then I grew up and got busy with the things of life until a few years ago when my friend Tracy handed me a book by her friend Father Dave, who had walked the Camino in "Thanksgiving to God" for his ten years of priesthood.  Once again, I was hooked!

And then the movie "The Way" by Emilio Estevez came out to area theaters and I went with a group of friends to see what the hike is all about.  And we were so inspired!  And we discussed the possibility of making the pilgrimage ourselves.  And many were game, but just "not yet!"

The next thing I knew, Father Dave Pivonka was coming as our speaker in Blowing Rock, NC in August to lead our youth minister retreat...and his talk was about...you guessed it..his walk on the Camino!  I listened with rapt attention as he spoke of the fellow priest he traveled with, the heavy backpacks they carried, the crowded albergues they slept in, the aching feet they nursed each night, the colorful array of people they met, the spiritual insights they gained, and the sense of accomplishment they shared when they completed their walk in the thirty or so days they allotted for it.

Father Dave also told how he prepared for the trip (not nearly well enough for the pounding that his feet would take!), how he found his way from place to place by following signs scattered throughout the towns, how he and all the pilgrims were issued passports that must be stamped along the way, and how they all carried a shell dangling from their backpack as a sign of their journey and as a way to scoop water that has been used through the ages of pilgrims who have walked this route through the ages.

A few months passed and then in December I found myself in Texas where I learned that my cousin's daughter Lydia was also intrigued by the idea of taking the pilgrimage, but would like to wait a year to do it when she graduates from high school.  So I decided that I would not be able to make my way to St. James this year as I had hoped....and would try to find something else to do instead.

And what came up was the opportunity to travel to Poland, the spiritual heartland of Pope John Paul II who will most likely be made a saint this fall.  I had read too, the incredible diary of the polish nun Sr. Faustina whom Pope John Paul II recognized as a saint in the year 2000.  She had faithfully recorded her conversations and prayers to Jesus appeared who appeared to her to ask that she spread devotion to His Divine Mercy through the painting of an image that has been seen throughout the world.

So with these things in mind, along with an invitation to see the country through the eyes of the people who live there, I enthusiastically embarked on planning this journey.  After a few months of research and bookings, I decided to squeeze in a retreat offered at Our Lady of Lourdes church in Raleigh by the "Women of Grace" ministry.  Although it was to be on the day before I was to depart, I decided to see if I could fit it in and so prepare myself spiritually for my journey.  It turned out to be a grace-filled morning beginning with Mass and followed by a lovely brunch, inspiring talks, and personal sharing with other attendees.  And do you know what they did at the end of it?  Invited each one of us to come forward, select a shell from the array of them that they set out before us, dip it in holy water blessed by Father Tony, and keep it as a token of our journey along the spiritual way toward God!!

I think my Camino (and yours!) has already begun!

On Our Way to Poland

Summer is here and it's time for another adventure. This weekend I'm leaving for an 18 day trip through Poland. The kids and I are going to be guests of a friend who grew up in the country when it was under communist rule, and claims that despite its storied past, it is "The Greatest Country in the World!"

Now mind you that this friend is a rather colorful character himself...We met when I visited  his monastery in New Mexico two years ago and then sent him a frequent flyer airline ticket so that he could come and see what "a real American family is like."  After the initial shock of hearing that our houseguest would be a monk and a Catholic priest, the kids warmed up to him as soon as he walked off the plane complaining that they had run out of beer in First Class.  Since then he has made several visits to our home sharing his love of chess "In five more moves, I will have you in Checkmate!!", his penchant for provocative political discussions at the dinner table of which our informed kids are only too happy to take the opposing side, and his abiding love of all things European.  

So we have decided to go and find out what the fuss is all about.  Together we'll see Poland's two great cities Warsaw and Krakow, stay on a family farm in the countryside, see the birth place of Pope John Paul II, visit a concentration camp, make a pilgrimage to some of the holiest sites in the country, meet the parents and see the boyhood home of our friend Fr. Symeon, tour an underground salt mine, visit castles, learn a little more history, eat and drink like the locals, walk along the Baltic coast, and finally return home with new friends and lots of stories about our amazing time in Central Europe.  

Won't you come along?!!