Saturday July 16, 2011 and Sunday July 17, 2011
Polish Postcards: The best I’ve found yet
Horseback riding is definitely one of the 1,000 hobbies I had when I was younger that I wish I’d never given up. Maybe it’s only because now that I’ve done it for the first time in a while it’s much more exciting because I’m riding around bareback in Hungary or racing other horses through the woods in Poland… but either way I need to get back on this wagon.
Saturday morning we had a group of teenagers come, stare off into space for a while, and eventually work with me to get their project finished. They had a good time asking me weird questions and I had a good time watching their tiny little brains work. Maybe this is the age where problem solving becomes exciting and necessary. People stop doing everything for you, answering every question you have, and basically leave everything up to you to figure out.
Whether or not that’s the case… or they just thought that this crazy girl who could only speak English would never be able to understand their questions… they did all of the work, plugged leaks in their model, and in the end made a perfect model of the filtration system that worked like a charm.
In the afternoon Derick, Sophie and I went horseback riding in the woods near the farm. There were a few people riding with us: a young woman named Daga who informed me that “STOP!” is the same in every language, her husband Martin who wore funny spandex pants that practically went up to his nipples, and our leader Asha who reminded me of Sister Wendy minus the habit (*sidenote* why when you google “nun” does it seem like more sexy Halloween costumes come up than pictures of real nuns?)
We all spent a few hours riding a Silesian breed of horse through the woods, into wheat fields, chasing rabbits and watching birds. It reminded me of one of those scenes in a movie where you see the opening credits roll over a bunch of young, some-kind-of-tan-race kids riding wild ponies through the forest… only seeing a flash of them through the trees and hearing nothing but the stomping hooves of excited horses and yelps of insane nomad babies who walk on fire and eat raw meat while beating each other with sticks in their free time (I’m trying to create a picture of some kind of Australian post-walk-about youngin’)
Where I was running around: the green part to the right of Ozimek
So yeah, we were like those kids… except that I was the only tan one. And we weren’t yelling. Oh and I rarely eat raw meat… I’m not sure about the others. But basically it would have looked like that. We were fast, swerving, and smashing through branches and leaves and over logs and wet brush.
In the end I spent a while walking one of the horses around in a pen. To an unbroken horse like her… left meant right, stop meant go, and “Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease justt go in a circle” meant “I don’t give a shit what you do, just read my mind and do the opposite.”
We spent the evening eating watermelon and vegetables from the garden, drinking chocolate milk, and drinking beers with the two roofers who moved in downstairs… and who are supposedly “impressed” with me. Whatever that means. They taught me about what it’s like to be married in Poland, and the new stage I’ve learned about that’s between being dating and engaged… (a.k.a. the “A boy proposes to a girl, she says no, but they wear friendship rings so that he can look less embarrassed” stage… at least you get a ring out of it)
This morning I was woken up by Jens who said that Iwona was planning a big breakfast. We ate eggs with tomatoes and onions from the garden, ham, toast and apricot yogurt, a new favorite of mine. We discussed the days plan which was basically wait around until Harry Potter, watch Harry Potter, then play Harry Potter when we got home. Right before we left Oma called for lunch and we sat down to partake in a serious Sunday feast. Kluski, boiled potatoes, seasoned pork from the last pigs on the farm, capusca, and gravy. It’s strange but there’s always some flash of color on the table even when we’re solely eating meat and potatoes. Bright royal purple and cotton candy pink cabbage. Fresh picked, sliced tomatoes bleeding green and yellow seeds.
After lunch we drove to Opole and while they enjoyed Harry Potter in Polish I wandered around the “Westwood” of Opole. Which basically meant lots of fancy restaurants, lots of fancy stores, and lots of fancy people. Somehow I found my way outside of the city center and crossed a bridge to a beautiful park with a huge pond and fountain where I tried to finish the book I bought in Berlin because a nice colleague of Jens’ offered me two books in English to read while I’m at the farm (Harry Potter 7 and a John Grisham novel… there goes the next 4 weeks of my life)
After the film Felix left for the night to go camp at his friends house, the one that Iwona and Jens like to call “the nerd.” I asked him what they were going to spend the night doing… and basically he said they were each going to take 50 zloty and buy Nestea (NOT cola) chocolate, and probably a copy of Computer World and spend the next few nights eating chocolate and chatting about nerd-things. His friend looks like Dexter but I can tell that Felix is going to grow up to be one of those kids that all of the girls love and all of the boys envy. Oh and the kid who all of the parents wish they’d birthed instead of their own.
We spent the rest of the day feeding pigs, making fresh tsaziki for dinner, and chatting on the porch about films, movies, why September is awful, why dogs need to eat bones to be real dogs, and about how Northern California fits the stereotypes about it more than any other place in California. Jens and I drank some kind of chocolatey dark Polish beer while Iwona and grandma fed the cats rice and experimented with new pet friendships.
Tomorrow: The sand comes.
(Oh yeah and what the HELL, Kristian Matsson is Swedish??? Yes, please.
noicewarmmilk 