I arrived on Sunday after a very surreal flight on LOT Airlines, which was obviously created under the Communists. There are still ashtrays in the arms of the seats. The "headphones" were more like Playskool stethoscopes and they showed classic Disney cartoons dubbed in Polish. Very awesome. The food was also very reminiscent of something I once ate on a Pan Am flight in, oh, 1986? It was a very odd sort of chicken paprikash kind of affair. Customs was easy -- no forms or anything. Just a swipe of the passport and I was in.
I took cab through town. I had spent most of the flight memorizing just enough Polish not to get ripped off by a cabby. It went pretty well...plus the guy could speak a bit of English, which assured me that I'd be getting around just find on my English-German-Polish mix.
It's obvious that this city was entirely destroyed during the Uprising in 1945. Everywhere were highrises -- new ones and blackened cement edifices likely erected during the 60s. Every so often, I could make out a classic old building, but it's hard to tell what actually survived since even some of the 19th century palaces were reconstructed right after the war. It's like Paris meets the USSR.
I couldn't believe my good luck when my driver finally pulled onto my street, Mokotowska. It's in the center of the city and it's one of the few streets that wasn't absolutely destroyed during the war -- plenty of prewar buildings, including my own, which was built in the 20s. It's amazing! An incredible courtyard, elaborate rod iron fencing and my own little view of a park from the third floor. It's a tiny little place with tons of great design, thanks to the owner, Dorota Wnuk.
Dorota met me at the apartment and instantly welcomed me. She's an amazing woman -- an artist who left in the 80s to live in New York and only recently returned to be close to her aging parents. Her svelt figure and dark pixie haircut totally betrayed her age. She immediately took me out onto the streets and gave me a tour. Though much of the city has changed since the end of Communism, Dorota assured me that many of the people have not.
She took me to a grocery store, where I bought a variety of dairy products solely based on their packaging -- a brightly drawn peasant girl on a box of whole milk, a pint or so of yogurt with a sort of pastel-ish sketch of a farmer, honey, water, ice cream...
Almost as soon as we got back to the apartment, Jerzy was waiting for me at the front gate of my building. Jerzy is my grandmother's dear friend. During the war, his mother, Erika, hid my grandmother and great-grandmother. My grandmother was, in turn, Jerzy's Latin tutor. He immediately embraced me like a long lost grandfather. He was dressed entirely in white -- like a classic Cubano and had some super cool 70s-ish shades on. He grabbed my hand and held it the entire way down the street, towards his home, on Marskalkowsa -- one of the main streets in Warsaw. He lives in a set of huge high rises -- a cute little apartment that he has shared with his wife Hala since the 1960s.
Hala greeted us at the door and ushered us into the living room, where dinner was waiting for us. I didn't expect such a welcome! There was veal, potatoes with dill, cucumbers in yogurt, tomatoes and cheese, cake, coffee, and a homemade fruit compote of Johannesberries and Cherries that was served like a summer soup. It was incredible.
Hala doesn't speak any English and Jerzy's is limited, so we communicate in this very odd mix of English-Polish-German -- Germanglishka I call it. Somehow, it works for us. After an incredible meal and some very trilingual conversation, we called my grandmother who was elated to know that I had finally made it to her hometown.
After our call, Hala changed from her bright floral dress into an all-white lace outfit that was sort of Spanish inspired. Her and Jerzy made quite a swanky pair. They are in their 80s, but you'd never know it. Hala is always in heels and I can hardly keep up with Jerzy when he walks. They both walked me home, pointing out all the different war monuments.
It just so happened that I arrived on the 65th anniversary of the Warsaw Uprising. The city was full of flowers, flags, and candles. It was really incredible.
When I got home, I immediately began to unpack. Despite getting only 4 hours of sleep on the plane, I was still so pumped with adrenalin I could hardly sleep. I really can't believe that I'm finally here.
I'll be posting videos of my excursions with Jerzy and Hala as well as photos of my place and odd things around town. Until then, Do widzenia!
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Thank you for this!
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