(From Warsaw): rhymes with crostini

Krakow is to tattoos as Warsaw is to… what? One of my traveling companions remarked that the day some of us got tattoos in Krakow ranks as the day of all travel days. Looking back, I recall how a tornado ripped through those hours, as we all came to be swept away in some sort of delirium, with churches, castles, angry nuns, globes, cakes and tattoo designs swirling and banging around us in an Eastern European version of Kansas.

But what of poor Warsaw? Have we given her a chance?

Madeline and I did. Yesterday we ventured to Hest, a place where you can wax your skin away to smooth and beautiful perfection. Under the experienced eyes of Aneta.

Let not the garish colors of the entry way fool you: Aneta is no fun and games kind of woman. She is thorough. She is methodical. She will leave no hair undisturbed. She will fight the battle against fuzz and growth in the way the Polish people fought against the invasion of the Tartars: with brute force and a good dose of paraffin.*

Me, I am a novice at the entire waxing game. It’s been only months since my brows were shaped by wax dripping onto my lids. As Aneta looked at me, she said: “you are about to experience a new kind of pain.”

In the end I assured her that she is a woman of great talent. Indeed, I could not imagine a more beautifully creative approach to the entire project. From now on, no trip to Poland will be complete without a knock on her door. Poles are artists at the core and it shows, believe me – it really shows.

*what kind of waxing job are we taking about here? One has to be discreet. Let me just say – it does rhyme with crostini.