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How common is it for husbands in Poland to open their wife's mail ? [30]
WroclawI selected about 30 pictures taken of me over the years.
Included is a picture of my original Polish passport to America (circa 1975) and the photo that was affixed to it. My mother would recognize the person in that picture, since it was taken within several weeks of our separation.
I took everything to Kinkos and laid the pictures out on 8 x 11 sheets of white paper (for a background). Then the pictures were were printed on 8 x 11 glossy card stock paper. The pictures look very good. The quality is good. The pictures sort of tell a story by themselves, about what I looked like growing up and the events of my life and things I had been involved in, through the years.
I have a couple friends in Poland. One person suggested she would be willing to drive to my mother's workplace and hand-deliver my envelope (package) to her. Initially I thought this might be a good idea, but I'm starting to think perhaps not, at least from the perspective of my mother.
I'd imagine that most people, if they had a visitor stop by their workplace to hand-deliver a package, they might be pretty interested in opening it pretty quickly, out of curiosity. Especially if the letter had a foreign return address on it.
If my mother opened the letter at work, or maybe worse yet, in front of her co-workers, the whole thing might be pretty unsettling. Especially with pictures and everything.
My goal is to travel to Poland within the next 7 to 12 months. I could visit the country and then meet-up with my family.
The last time I was in Poland, was 22 years ago, during the summer of 1987. I was only 13 years old. I was touring the country for 3 weeks with my American family. This was shortly after the nucular accident in Chernobyl, Russia. I remember people in the restaurants, advising me not to eat the strawberries that came with my cake (dessert).
The American dollar was so "strong" then. I remember standing in a line in Gdansk to buy ice-cream. I'd already had 2 ice-cream cones and wanted a 3rd. When I got to the window, I reached in my pocket and realized I was out of Polish currency. So I offered to give the lady 1 American dollar. The lady told me I would have to wait for a handful of people behind me, to buy their ice-cream, before she would have enough change for me. I told the lady not to worry about it, to just keep the change. I mean really, I paid $1 for ice-cream cones in my hometown in N.Y., all the time back then. As soon as I said that, some Polish guy that could speak English and over-heard my conversation, stepped out of line and started laughing. He said: "You crazy Amerikanski."
I remember things were so cheap in Poland, I could go in to a store and just point to the shirts on the wall, the guy behind the counter would gather the 7 or 8 shirts, and I never even thought about how much they would cost. And I only had my paper-route and lawnmower money.
Then I went to a department store and bought a couple suitcases. I bought all kinds of hand-tools in the same department store and loaded up my suitcases. Then when I got back home to America, I found out some of the sockets and wrenches I bought, didn't even work on my lawnmower or bicycle. I thought I had been ripped off. But nope, that was my introduction to the
"metric system." 