Warsaw: family, friends

My fierce inner resistance to the time change caved. I fell asleep just as the page turned and August 12th became August 13th. Such a welcome change!

And here's another change: I'm learning to think about Warsaw in a new way. I'll never be able to totally shed my childhood angst when I revisit this city, but recently I've been looking at everything from a different perspective: I've been thinking -- how would Snowdrop, Primrose, Sparrow, Sandpiper and Juniper look at it if they were here? How would they view this street, food, language, park, tram ride? I've traveled with all of them and I've noticed that especially in their younger years, they dont pay attention to the differences. They focus on what's familiar. You're looking at the Soviet architecture of the Palace of Culture and they're likely surveying the ledge above the green strip of grass and wondering if they can get away with climbing it. You're telling them to try the fantastic fruits of the forest ice cream in Italy and they're pondering if the chocolate flavor is as good as the one back home. But what would happen if you pointed out the marks of war on a building in Warsaw's Praga district? Or the braided hair of little girls (American girls tend to keep it in a style that we affectionately call a "rat's nest")? And can they be taught to like blintzes? With sour cream? Because in Poland, that combination of sweet and sour is ever present (only in Poland do I see sour cream sprinkled with sugar over it).

This focus on not even the next generation but the one after, helps me overcome my self absorption here. The question of "how does that affect me" is erased and the new one -- "how does this affect them" becomes the one that matters.

 

Refreshed, full of good thoughts about the two or three days I've had here thus far, and amused and excited about my new attitude, I go down to breakfast.

And now I plunge into a very complicated day. It turns out that the five days I gave to Poland is a day too little. I could use a bit more time for a peak into shops (am I really coming home with nothing from Poland for anyone ??), for a taste of paczki (those Polish doughnuts with rose jam), or jagodzianki (yeasty blueberry rolls). This day and the next are full of good things -- there's no room for more. So, I should have stayed a day longer. 

No matter, let's concentrate on today: and it's a whopper! The first half I will spend with my sister and nephew. And then in the late afternoon, I am going to go to my own idea of a party, one that I'm throwing for my full set of friends here. We're all in our 70s, so out of the 13 that should be there, one had to bow out at the last minute due to health, and one will be coming straight from the hospital, after a prolonged and serious stay there. It's a warning to all of us: there are no more guarantees (even if we believed, in our youth, that we would always be energetic, strong, smart, creative!). 

I got Karolina, my architect friend to help me find a place where I can host these old school friends of mine. She came up with a great restaurant that offered a private room. I paid, reserved, then found out the place went belly up. We scrambled. She came up with another -- the place where I ate dinner with her last year. By the old Fort in southern Warsaw (Mokotow). It's not easy to get to. But, we are all energetic, strong, smart, creative, right??

First though, my morning with family.

I meet my sister, we catch the metro, then walk the familiar path through the familiar neighborhood... 

 

 

 

... all the way to the Lazienki Park. With a quick detour to the Botanical Gardens.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lazienki Park is right next door. I cannot imagine a visit to Warsaw without a walk along the stately avenues of this beautiful green space. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My nephew meets us there. Eventually, we find a table at a cafe-restaurant that I have visited too many times to count. Right by the Summer Palace. There, I order a nalesnik (blintz with cheese). My grandmother made these. Every Polish child has had many a meal of them. I couldn't tell you which is the more popular:  nalesniki or pierogi (dumplings).

 Fortified, we walk. All along the Royal Way again, to my hotel. It's not too far. Maybe 3.5 kilometers. And it is a lovely walk (on a very warm day!).

 

 

 

We pause at a pastry store that my two walking companions like (they have the same one in their neighborhood).  They have them here! Jagodzianki, paczki...

I must come back, come hell or high water. Tomorrow.

By three, I am back to my hotel, getting ready for my "party." And by five, I am at Gardens by Fort.

(the table is set)

  

 

(they're all here now...)

 

And, too, Karolina, the person who helped me come up with a place to host a dinner party, comes over with her friend.

 

 

 

Polish friendships are different than the ones in the U.S. (I speak as one from the postwar generation. Things change, customs shift. Perhaps there is more similarity among younger age groups.) Not better, not stronger, not gentler, just different. Most people live in the same city all their lives. For better or worse, friends never quite leave their field of vision (unless they emigrate, like me). Or, is it that even after all these years I still can't wrap my mind around the fact that I am no longer part of this group, that our lives have split so widely and in such different directions that I hesitate to plunge into any discussion of what happens back home, at the farmette, with my kids, because what if they wont understand? 

(we eat; it's not a great photo, but then, I didn't take it!)

 

And I do take out my Hygge Game of conversational cards. For the fun of it. But I choose carefully the questions posed and discussed. I'm dealing with Polish sensibilities. I want them to love playing, to treat this gathering as a happy event on this hot August day.

 

I get back home late. Of course I do. At the risk of disrupting my sleep cycle once again, I jot down these thoughts, but I'll save the rest for later. I am tired, but deeply content.

with so much love...