Culture Corner: Poland - Out the door...

From a landscape point of view, Poland has a lot in common with America’s New England.  Similar to the Appalachians, a single ridge of mountains transverses the southern border of Poland, Germany to the Ukraine.  Spread from this chain to the sea in the north lie loosely rolling hills, farmlands and forest, the latter occupying the majority.  Here and there are scattered lakes and ponds, and connecting them, the lazy, winding river.  The occasional city appears in a shallow valley, but most of the Polish population lives in towns and villages, the distance to the nearest house never far.  Sound like Maine?  

The flora and fauna one sees in Poland are easily recognizable to anyone who has spent time in America’s northeast.  Birch, pine, spruce, maple and the like populate the woods, along with deer, fox, squirrels, and mice.  There are of course some differences – no wild boar or badgers root the forests in Maine, but generally speaking, the similarities strike home watching the landscape roll by the car window.  It goes without saying then that I spend a lot of my free time here as I do at home in the US: in the out-of-doors.  Hiking, climbing, and just being under the sun are regular parts of my life.  As such, I’d like to share some photos with you so you can have an idea for yourself what the Polish landscape is like.

Here is an actual view looking out the car window.  (This photo fails to convey an important difference between the US and Poland, however: the sheer lunacy of Polish drivers.  Undoubtedly as this photo is being taken, one of these drivers/madmen is getting ready to pass us at autobahn speeds.)

  A very typical Polish village on a summer’s day.  

 And one of those nice meadows filled with wildflowers…

The Tatras are Poland and Slovakia’s only claim to real mountains, i.e. mountains which require more gear than the latest North Face fleece and a bottle of Dasani.  The highest is Gerlach at 2,655 m (8,710 ft for the metric impaired) with several of the surrounding peaks nearly as high.   They’re beautiful in every season (as you will see) and worthy of the numerous postcards for sale in the tourist towns of the foothills.

This is a National Park on the border with the Ukraine called Bieszczady.  It rolls with sublime hills, wide open vistas, and these colorful trees in autumn.

This is a path very near my house I often go running on.  Could’ve been New England, no?

Like the Yeti, here is a rare sighting of the author himself enjoying Bieszcady in November 2011.

Winter too settles in, temperatures drop, and water becomes walkable.  Above is a scene from a local park called, in fact, South Park.  If it could speak, I’m sure it would lay honor to the name decades before the cut-and-pastes from Colorado made the moniker famous.

This has happened to me only once in Poland, but I thought I would offer it as proof that at least it’s possible.  It goes without saying then, the blizzards that the grandmas in Maine drive through with the pedal to the floor are not as easily handled by the Polish.

Hiking in the Karkonoszy mountains last winter, this is a “cabin” we stayed in.  

In the Tatras once more, this time it’s winter.  On the right is a lake called “Eye of the Sea,” and since they’ve built a stone stairway to it, even ladies in high heels have access.   In the upper right is Poland’s highest peak, Rysy.

This time truly a Yeti, here I am climbing Rysy.  Crampons buckled as tight as I could get them, ice axe in a death grip, and teeth grinding with every step vertically, we made this (successful) assault in early winter 2010. 

But like Maine and New England, waiting through the winter long enough means that the sun will shine.  Which also means you can once again go with your friends to the local lake for a nice, refreshing swim…

 

For those who were paying attention, you probably noticed that not only does the landscape bear strong resemblance to the northeast of America, the flow and look of seasons is likewise very similar.  So, even though I’m six hours ahead of most of you, we still hold a cycle of life in common.  Think about it.

Culture Corner: Wroclaw

A couple of years ago I promised you a culture corner from Poland.  That ship never sailed, and probably so did your confidence in me.  Well, better late than never, I come limping into the harbor, hopefully with goods intact.  

The following is a photo introduction to the city I’ve lived in for more than two years now, Wroclaw.  Pronounced like ‘vrots-luv’, it’s located at the geographical center of Europe and home to nearly 750,000.  Though probably never to be known amongst the other giants of culture in Europe, Paris, Rome, London, and the like, Wroclaw nevertheless has its own charm and is certainly cosmopolitan.  There are regular theater and opera events, several museums and galleries, a historical city center to wander, and a host of cafes, bars, and restaurants to while away the hours.  German or Prussian for almost the entirety of the past millennium, the city and entire Lower Silesian region were part of Poland’s post WWII reparations.  As such, you’ll see a lot of German influence in the architecture and cityscape in the following photos.  Neither too big or too small, Wroclaw is a city I enjoy living in and hope the photos indicate as much.

  First the overview , literally.  This is Wroclaw’s city center.  In the foreground is the river Odra, along its banks are the city’s main university (on the right) and the city market (on the left), and in the background are numerous spires, red clay tile roofs, and towers representing the remaining influence of the Catholic church.  In fact, taking this photo I’m standing in the towers of the city’s cathedral.

Strangely enough, one of the things I like most about Wroclaw are its dwarves.  Each uniquely prepared by an artisan, these small cast iron fellows (no ladies, yet) appear in the oddest of places around the city.  Walking past a spot as you’ve done a hundred times, suddenly out pops a dwarf you’d simple never noticed.  Each performing some activity – usually associated with the building they are located near - they add character to a city that, in the wake of communism, needs a little color.  Each dwarf has its own name (these two are Grajek - like “Player” - and Spiewek -“Singer”) and if you want, you can buy a children’s map that will take you on a tour of the city’s famous places, dwarf by dwarf.

Part of the main city square, this is Plac Solny (Salt Plaza).  All of the building facades in this areas have one vibrant color or another, lime greens, sky blues, creamy yellows, and as you see, sometimes in cadmium pink.

This is the exact heart of Wroclaw, it’s old City Hall.  Gothic to the max, laws have been enacted, proclamations decreed, and people defenestrated from this building over the centuries of its existence.  Just slightly to the right of this photo is the old stone whipping post where criminals were once publicly punished.

In the hands of many over the years, the Jesuits to the Prussians, this is currently the University of Wroclaw, a place I attended for two years.  

 A street scene from the old city center, the Wroclaw Opera House on the right, the moon on the left.

There are things for the young to do as well, such as attending “black music” parties (despite that Poland is 97% Polish, the remaining three percent occupied by Gypsies and Ukrainians).  I guess that’s what allows them to be so vague in their advertising.  Oh, and in case you were unaware, the Europeans adore Michael Jackson.   …and Bon Jovi.

Sitting in the window of what was formerly the city jail, this is a sad dwarf, now watching as people enter the premises to enjoy the galleries, museum pieces, and café.  

Wroclaw has a botanical garden as well, this particular section being the backside of the Japanese Garden in early, early spring.

This is the interior of the market you saw in the first photo.  It has the freshest fruits and vegetables, flowers, candies, cold cuts, fish, and just about anything else you can think of can be found here, one of my favorite places in Wroclaw.

Not only on the ground or tucked in windows, dwarves are sometimes flying overhead attached to lampposts!

And lastly is Wroclaw’s cathedral, St. John’s.  Named after the city’s patron saint (his severed head part of the city’s sigil), the Gothic church is a relaxing sight in the evening when walking the quiet cobblestone streets of its island home.

That’s all I have from Poland for now.  Will post more in the near future.

Culture Corner: The sidewalk

Imagine walking down an empty city sidewalk when you spot someone walking in your direction.  As they head directly toward you, what do you do? Move slightly to the right as a polite gesture so the two of you may pass unhindered? If you answered ‘no’ to this question, you are either from a country where people drive on the left side of the road, or, you are amongst a minority of people and fit to take your first day’s walk in China. (There are of course other exceptions, maybe there was something horrid spattering the right side so you had to go to the left side…)

When someone is walking towards you in China, they rarely make an attempt to get out of your way, and combining this one person with the 1.3 billion walking the streets, driving mopeds on the sidewalk, and cruising around on bicycles, I often feel like a ballerina, tip-toeing, dancing, and curtseying my way through the throng, trying to preserve what little semblance of personal space I’ve preserved after spending the past eight months in Nanjing. They press close.  Approaching somebody from behind on the sidewalk is even funnier. 

A relaxed nation of amblers and meanderers, going anywhere for the Chinese at a hurried or steady pace is not often thought of.  Instead, the pleasantries of walking are savored, hands clasped behind the back and eyes to the sky in leisurely stroll.  Because of the wandering nature of these footsteps, I often wonder if they have eyes in the backs of their heads and are intentionally trying to get in the way as I approach from behind. (Of course they’re not.) It seems no amount of pre-meditation or planning can allow me past without them subconsciously knowing which side I intend to pass them on and suddenly swerving into my path. I’ve tried feinting like a ball player, but somehow they still know and take that “surprise” step in the opposite direction directly in front of me. I have to laugh at this. But, this is not the only game the Chinese enjoy playing in public places.

Just like the mother in the grocery store who occupies the entire width of the aisle as she ponders which brand of peanut butter has more riboflavin, another popular sidewalk technique employed in China is the “sudden stop for no good reason”.  And it is not only people who stop directly in front of you causing you to alter the location of your next footstep, but bicycles and mopeds as well - occasionally with the owner looking you directly in the eye and smiling as he stops his bicycle on your toes and goes in a store, leaving you to walk around the obstacle he’s given you.  The preferred location for this little trick is critical junctures, places where the flow of pedestrians and assorted wheeled vehicles must to come to a complete stop and wait as the trickster babbles to a friend, sends a text message, or stares at the sky. Such places, are, for example, the middle of stairwells and entrances to stores. My favorite is the man who gets on the bus, pays the driver, and stops, blocking the aisle and causing the driver to tell him: “Move to the back of the bus idiot so the other fifty people waiting can get on.” I ask myself: “How can this man not be aware of the crowd behind him waiting to get on the bus?” If it happened once or twice, it would be normal. But as situations like this happen so frequently, it makes me wonder if they are completely unaware of the other people moving around them in society, or just don’t care. Maybe the large numbers have calloused them?

One day while walking down a sidewalk, on my way to teach, a man stopped his bicycle in front me.  He then turned the bike sideways to block the entire sidewalk, put down the kickstand, and entered the store, all the while smiling at me, white teeth flashing happiness.  It was plain and simple as that, not a hint of malice.  One of the stranger occurrences of my life in China, it could have been me, an old lady, anyone, and he would have done the same thing.  Long after walking onto the street around his bicycle to continue on my way, I’m still pondering this bit of social insensitivity.

Re-reading what I just wrote makes me sound like an impatient person, and through the first few months I definitely was when dealing with Chinese mannerism in daily public situations. But, I’ve come to (or forced myself to come to) laugh at the sidewalk cha-cha I do every time I walk somewhere. I feel like Frogger. Up up down left left up right down right right up up left right down up up left left right up up… My personal space has dwindled to a point of near non-existence. I no longer feel uncomfortable having complete strangers caked onto me riding in an elevator, or think someone is trying to steal something from me when my bookbag is jostled continuously. So, if when I return to the US I feel the desire to give extra hugs or sit a little closer than usual, slap me, I’ll come out of it eventually.

Culture Corner: Summer Holiday 2005 - Part II

This is the river city of Chongqing, the only city in China I visited that wasn’t flat as a board, and the starting point of my Yangtze River “cruise”.  The Yangtze River I believe is the third largest river in the world and it’s a bit muddy from all of the sediment stirred up by the farmers along its length - oh, and also because it’s considered a giant flowing rubbish bin by a large number of Chinese people.  Up close there is not only a mocha color to it, but all manner of floating objects… shoes… empty noodle bowls… strange brown amoeba like things (that might take over China someday if they continue to be allowed to mutate)… plastic bags… more shoes… lots of shoes…

I love this photo.  Waiting for the passenger ferry I was to embark in the evening, the dockside came alive with little eateries and makeshift restaurants.  The aura of the dim lights on this steaming hot night was great, as was the food.

Throughout the night and in the fog of morning heat and humidity, the passenger ferry down stopped at little towns and villages to drop off people and pick them up - people whose only connection to the world was through the Yangtze as no outside roads lead to their communities.

And despite all of the negative things I heard about the giant Three Gorges Dam project, including its submerging of some of China’s more significant sights, I still found the gorges to be quite beautiful, though I don’t know what they looked like prior to having +/- 50 meters submerged.  You can use your imagination like I did.

After going down a portion of the Yangtze in a passenger ferry, I took an incredibly packed train complete with clucking chickens to a remote area called Zhangjiajie, which features many things, including weird rock formations like these above.  

After Zhangjiajie I took a space ship to Saturn and…  Ha!  (I know, I know, bad joke...) Above is a scene from Yellow Dragon Cave, purportedly the largest cave in Asia and another interesting part of Zhangjiajie.  This was only one of the few times I liked the Chinese penchant for gaudy neon lights. 

Despite my bad joke, it truly felt like I was in outer space the couple of hours I spent wandering through the immense caverns of this cave.  So large, there was even a boat ride on an underground river that took you back to the entrance after you'd hiked the many kilometers deep inside the cave... I think it was a boat ride...

As a whole, I spent a couple of days camping in Zhangjiajie, after which I went to…

 …the Yangtze port city of Wuhan.  Take a moment to take in the variety of enterprises the dock workers in this photo are engaged in.  There are quite a few.  My favorite is the man curled up, sleeping on the top of the bus to the left.  The man sprawled out on the wheelbarrow comes in a close second.

 Some houseboats on the Yangtze in Wuhan.  If you can’t tell, Wuhan was ridiculously hot and humid.  A form of torture for this northlander.

The last place I visited on my trip before returning to Nanjing for a few days and eventually the U.S. was Yellow Crane Tower, a place Chinese of old used to go to say goodbye to friends and family.  Aww, wasn’t that sweet of you…

THE END

(If you missed it, Part I was here.) 

Culture Corner: Summer Holiday 2005 - Part I

These two sets of photos upcoming are taken from the month I spent traveling around China after my teaching contract was finished in 2005.  I traveled a ridiculous amount of miles, spending something like four full days on a train or bus.  I think I’m still worn out from it.  Never again… maybe...

The first place I went was Mount Tai, which featured the path of eighteen bends (seen as a faint white line above my tired right dog).  It should have been named: “Path of Quadricep Torture” as it was a stone staircase that went straight up the mountain for about 6 km.  My feet are happy to have nothing beneath them but air for the moment...

After Mount Tai, I continued performing my tourist duty and visited Beijing.  Pictured above is one of two iron lions guarding the entrance to the Lama Temple, the best maintained temple I saw in China that summer, and I saw many…

These are two of the dragons in the Nine Dragon Screen located in Beihai Park of Beijing.  The surface of the screen is made of glazed tiles – just in case you were wondering.

The Gate of Heavenly Peace complete with a portrait of Mao Zedong.  This was the only place I visited where I had to undergo any sort of security screening.

Due to renovation work in preparation for the upcoming summer Olympics in Beijing, much of the Forbidden Palace was covered in ugly scaffolding.  But, here is a portion of one of the outer walls sans scaffolding.

This is the Tiananmen Square.  Unlike 1989, the only thing active now are the tourist dollars...

Along with the Forbidden Palace, Tiananmen Square, and the Temple of Heaven, I wouldn’t have been a good tourist if I didn’t visit the Great Wall, and here it is.

I spent an afternoon hiking about 10 km of the Wall – a crumbling, authentic portion of the original Wall as you can see.  If I tried I could imagine messengers scurrying along this raised road, or armies marching to defend a besieged point along its length.  I also had to imagine its end as no matter how far in either direction I could see in the distance, all it did was wind through the hills and mountains without stop. Certainly impressive.

After Beijing’s 13 million people, I traveled to Inner Mongolia’s essentially uninhabited grasslands and camped.  For a couple days this was my and my tent’s view.  The peace and quiet was a nice contrast.

After the grasslands, I traveled through Ningxia Province, staying for a couple days, before continuing through the dry plains of Gansu province to Mount Kongtong, pictured above.  Sitting inside this little side temple is a massive, multi-armed Buddhist deity maintained by a wrinkled and kind female monk (nun? monkette? monkess?).  Scattered around the remainder of the mountain were numerous other temples and monasteries.

 A friend I made – or I should say, found me – in the small city of Pingliang near Mount Kongtong.  He showed me great kindness before I continued on to the city of Xi’an.

A melon seller and his storehouse on the streets of Xi’an.  For one Chinese dollar you could walk away with the fattest slice of watermelon that dripped streams of juice as you buried your face in it.  

A fortune teller on the streets of Xi’an.  

Near the city of Xi’an is Mount Hua, another of China’s great mountains that is seemingly always shrouded in fog.  Also near Xi’an is the Terracotta Warriors, but I neglected my tourist duty and did not visit them.  The fashion in which tourists – domestic and foreign – are funneled through China’s world famous attractions had begun to take its toll.  The idea of climbing a mountain was more appealing.

End of Part I.  Part II is here.