History /
An American studying medicine in the PRL 1978-1985: my story [142]
Rybnik maybe you should write a book?
Thanks for the kind compliment.
....but I don't have the discipline for such a project............
Leaving the dormMy dorm, "Dom Studencki Piast" was a relatively new, seven-storied construction fashioned in the plain-grey communist style. It reminded me of the Lego buildings I used to build as a boy: rectangular, squat and wide. Yeah, it was ordinary but it was home. It was My first Polish home. Here, in those cramped, sliver-for-a-space rooms, l would learn many, many invaluable lessons on what it means to be Polish. Those first months in DS "Piast" were to prove priceless in awakening a pride and igniting a curiosity in my "Polish-ness" that I never felt before back in the States.
AniaAnia was a tall, green-eyed Krakowianka with bee-stung lips. When I met her I thought I'd never look for another woman again! I was smitten. What I should've done, it turns out, was to say "nie dziękuje" and keep walking. But no! I took the bait, got hooked and went for a ride to frustration-town.
She was a law student at UJ (Jagiellonian University) and I have no idea how I met her. Maybe it was at one of those drunken dorm parties or by way of a friend of a friend. I don't recall. Anyway, there I was, dating this "10" and I thought I was king of the world. "Look at me. Not even 6 months in-country and look at the babe I've got on my arm!" I'd think to myself. Too bad for me the honeymoon period only lasted a few dates.
The early warning signs I failed to recognize: the fixing of the collar; the running commentary on the length of my hair; the sharpness of my pants crease. I, the American frajer, thought it was
cute. "She cares about me that's all" I'd tell myself. These Polish girls really care about their guy! Little did I know. This Polka was on a mission- a mission to change me!
The cute comments like "Your hair is a little long don't you think?" changed quickly to "You know, here in Poland the man walks on the woman's curb-side protecting her" and "Never chew gum when you're with a lady" and "Don't whistle when you're with a lady. That's rude!" Huh?? "Ok", I said to myself, "When in Rome" and all that.
Successive dates were laden with more "lessons", more commentary and more alterations. This was wrong, that was incorrect, this is how a Polish gentleman acts. I began to resent her but I couldn't leave. I wasn't pissed-off enough.
That's why. But I would be.
The final straw came in Radom. Anka invited me to a wedding na wsi(in the country) Her cousin was getting hitched. NA WSI!! Are you kidding me! This was great. Polish country weddings were legendary. Especially back then in the PRL-days of "nie ma". There would be plenty of good food, drink and music. They were renowned affairs lasting 3,4 days sometimes even longer. All that was expected of a guest was to have a good time: eat, drink, sleep and repeat. I COULDN'T WAIT.
Unfortunately, by the time it was over I would only remember the bad moments.
The train ride to Radom belied what awaited me at the end of the line. She was all kinds of sweet, attentive and complimentary on the train. So far so good.....Short-lived I'm afraid. The disclaimers [please forgive him he's from America; his Polish is not that great; yes, he is kind of rough around the edges-but I'll take care of that] started flying. Nothing I did was free of apologizing for. How I dressed( lol I went to Katowice specially to buy some corduroy. I got a real nice 3-piece suit);how I spoke( my Polish was weighted with a heavy accent). She even yelled at me for not knowing how to dance the Polonaise! I couldn't wait to return to Kraków.
Needless to say, I broke it off shortly after returning. She cried. I didn't care.
NB....one beautiful(weeks before the wedding) May afternoon Ania and I were walking on the Planty just outside the Barbakon. She was dressed all in white. She was immaculate. As if on cue, at the precise moment she began laughing at her own joke, a pigeon dropped a big, sloppy one one her right shoulder! I couldn't help myself - I started howling in laughter. Naturally, she was horrified at my reaction, blah, blah, blah. I guess it's telling that that particular moment is the sole happy memory I have of that brief (mercifully so) relationship. From which it
took me a while to recover....I wonder what Ania's doing now?
