Uvulitis in Małopolska

A perfect ending to a perfect adventure: uvulitis. For the second time in my life, I woke up after a horseradish-laden dinner and a long night of drinking to find my uvula swollen to the point of making it difficult for me to talk without feeling a strong gag reflex. Thankfully, over the course of Sunday, my uvula deflated to a normal size and I can now swallow and speak without discomfort.

I must say that my six day adventure in Małopolska left me wishing that I could take more time to get to know the area. And to see this area with good friends and adopted family greatly enhanced the pleasure.

First, I should summarize the "where?"s and "what?"s. On Saturday afternoon, Mark and I arrived in Dublin, where we walked around the city, saw Trinity College, went to the St. James Gate Brewery and celebrated a Pink Shirt Night. We slept altogether too much on Sunday morning (9 hours) and woke up in time for Mark to go through the Guinness Brewery tour and for me to write post cards and meander. We met up with an Irish friend of mine, Liam, that evening and, after Liam went home to Wicklow (a suburb), Mark and I closed down the bars again. This left us a short time to sleep before catching an early morning flight to Krakow on Monday morning.

Mark’s Vuyek Jusef and cousins Sabina and Andzrej greeted us as we left the customs area in Krakow’s airport. We looked around for Ceebs and texted Allan to see how far from the airport he was. Allan texted back that Ceebs had missed his flight and that he was stuck in traffic, but an hour away. Of course, we thought he was kidding; who misses an international flight? But, as it turned out, Ceebs would not be coming until the next day, so we decided to leave in Vukek Jusef’s auto and have Allan meet us in the town where his family lives.

It soon became apparent that Allan was frustrated in traffic and would prefer not to navigate his way to a small town, so we pulled over in Libertow to wait for Allan at a gas station. Allan looked exasperated when we saw him in Libertow. The drive from Bratislava took eight hours instead of the four hours suggested by mapping programs. We soon learned that traffic in parts of Małopolska were interminably bothersome!

It took four hours to drive 120 kilometres to Vuyek Jusef’s house. Allan, Andzrej and I took a few short cuts that ended up getting us there at the same time that Vujek Jusef arrived. The traffic was unbearable, but when we arrived at the Basara family home, the warm hospitality and great food and company soon caused us to forget the long hours in traffic. Chocha Ilena cooked us some soup, cotlata (pork cutlets) and potatoes, and after dinner we sat around their patio talking and drinking until well after midnight!

We met Mark’s three uncles (Jusef, Michaul, Bobek), aunt (Ilena), and three cousins (Sabina, Richard, Andzrej). Most of the conversations were in Polish and I participated with translation assistance from Mark or his cousins. Allan and I immediately felt like one of the family, and I would count that night’s fellowship as one of the highlights of the trip.

The next morning we awoke rather late, ate a Polish breakfast, and Allan, Andzrej and I went back toward Krakow to pick up Ceebs. We stopped in Bochnia on the way to research my great-grandmother’s family. We stopped at the first church we saw in town where we knocked on the parsonage door. While we were loitering, a nun asked us if we needed help and Andzrej asked her if anyone was available to review baptism, birth or confirmation records of my ancestor from the years1890 – 1910. Soon thereafter, a charming Polish priest invited us into his office and asked about my story and kindly told us that we should go to the oldest parish in Bochnia, where they are more likely to have old records. He began giving us directions to the church, but then he decided he would simply drive us there and introduce us to the other parish priest.

The parish priest from the older Bochnia church was equally helpful and nice, although he did have a very gruff demeanor. At one point, he even told Andzrej that if my mother spoke Polish, why don’t I speak Polish? Obviously, some things were lost in translation, but I didn’t bother to correct him. And, at the end of the day, I will need to look further back into documents from Kansas for the correct spelling of my great-grandmother’s name and the parish in which she was baptized before I can further research my roots in Poland. I plan to do this and to fax new questions to the Bochnia church soon!

After our visit in Bochnia, we picked up Ceebs in the airport and then we decided to stop by Bochnia on the way back to the Basara household. I took a picture of the town square, the main church, and I bought a book on the history of Bochnia. Ceebs, Allan, Andzrej and I then had a Tyskie in the town square before we headed back to the Basara’s house.

During the first night’s conversation, Vuyek Jusef promised to have pierogi ruskis for us if we came to stay with them for a second night. We did not need such enticement, but we thoroughly enjoyed some authentic pierogis on Tuesday night with the family. After pierogis, we went to Andzrej’s girlfriend’s (Ania) house for a kielbasa barbecue. Ania’s family lives across the street, so it was a very short walk. Once again, we enjoyed conversations with Mark’s and Ania’s family.

On Wednesday morning, we had pierogis for breakfast and left at around 11:00 AM for Dembica, where Sabina works. I said my goodbyes to the uncles and aunt in the morning, and we said goodbye to the cousins after eating ice cream together in Dembica. Sabina will be getting married next August, so Allan, Ceebs and I have been invited. I have every intention of coming back next August for the wedding and other adventures!

Our road trip officially began as the four of us got into the car and headed toward Bielice. We got there just in time to get to visit the salt mines. Allan chose not to visit the salt mines (it would have been his second time) and instead he found a place for us to stay. We stayed at a couple’s house up the street from the main square for 100 zloty (US$ 30). Not a bad deal!

The next morning we got off to an early start and drove to Czestochowa. Along the way, we stopped for some photo-ops at rock formations and castles. We also wandered for a while in the only desert in Central Europe. That’s right, desert. Apparently, this desert is becoming overcome by vegetation, however, so at least in one part of the world the de-desertification is in place.

In Czestochowa, we saw the Black Madonna and the church grounds around it. Unfortunately, the only sight to see in Czestochowa is the church grounds, so we left town immediately after we ate dinner. So, on Thursday night we headed to Krakow in search of a hostel.

We shopped at a few hostels before finding the perfect one: Orange Hostel. It truly doesn’t get better for four Illini alums. And, as it cost 40 zloty/person, we were consistent with our low-budget theme.

After checking in, Allan, Mark and I went out on the town. We went into one of Krakow’s cellar bars and grabbed a drink. What was originally going to be a one drink night, turned into a bar crawl. At the second bar, Allan secured some clove cigarettes. To make a long story short, Mark went home earlier than Allan and I. Allan and I closed down the last pub and ate kebabs and had a random conversation with two guys from Ulster to kill time before we had to leave for Auschwitz. A few hours earlier we had made the decision that returning to the hostel for sleep would risk us not waking up timely for our big day.

By 7:30 AM, the four of us were on our way to Auschwitz. We arrived well before the first English-language guided tour at 10:00 AM. We took that tour and tried to absorb the gravity of what happened under a fascist state not too long ago.

The experience spurred many discussions among us, including whether we should be worried about our own government and its tendency toward consolidation of power and disregard for the rights of individuals. Specifically, the so-called “War on Terror” could be used by those in power to justify the taking away of citizen’s right in the name of ‘protecting’ those citizens.

At the end of the tour, our guide said that the most important thing we can do is to remember what happened here. I think an even more important activity would be for each citizen to be ever-vigilant of his government and to oppose such things as imprisonment without charge, regardless of the category of person for which these rights are stripped. Okay, that’s all the politicking I’ll do!

After Auschwitz, we went to Wadowice, where Karol Wojtla was born and raised. We saw the church and the apartment wherein he spent much of his early years. The town itself had a very nice town center and ambience.

As Ceebs was much more interested in this town than Allan, Mark and I were, we left him there and went on to Zakopane in the Tatra Mountains. We stayed in a cabin in Zakopane. Although it had rained most of the day, we found enough kindling and wood to start a decent fire and roast our kielbasa for kielbasa sandwiches. We enjoyed the fire for a while and then went into downtown Zakopane for a beer. At midnight, we headed back, being very exhausted.

I slept well that night in the cabin and woke up fairly early. The three of us were packed and we hit the trails a little after 8:00. The scenery and fresh air of the mountains were amazing! But, we had decided to go for a quick hike, so we returned to the campsite before noon, and were on our way to Slovakia for the Slovak national dish by 12:00 PM.

We stopped in Zaidr, and went to one of its three restaurants to try the national dish. The dish consists of a gnocchi-like substance in a lamb cheese sauce with bits of bacon. It was very hearty and tasty. Before dinner we had stopped at the local pastry shop (more like someone’s home), so we ate those on the car ride out of Slovakia.

After lunch, we drove directly to Krakow, and we checked into the Sheraton by 5:00 PM. We had invited about 12 people to PSN Krakow during the long Thursday night out. We told them to wear a pink shirt and meet us at the bell tower at 6:00 PM. Allan and I rushed to the bell tower on the odd chance that new friends would come to meet us. Unless they came at 6:00 and left before 6:22, we had no random participants, but we did run into two of the invitees, albeit without their pink shirts on! The only thing I will say about Pink Shirt Night Krakow is that it started out at a lovely Polish restaurant where I ate a little too much horseradish sauce, and, as always, it was a great success.

That takes me to Sunday, the day that Ceebs left for Interlachen, Mark returned to New York City, and Allan drove back to Slovakia. I flew to Sweden, where I’ll be working. The trip was everything a guy could want out of a road trip with friends through a beautiful countryside and in a great country. My head is full of fond memories from so much time shared with great people, both old friends and newly adopted family.

And now it’s back to work so that I can have a similar experience soon! I’ve said it before; I’ll say it again: Life is good.