Autumn Fall

Like a switch has been thrown, it's autumn in Poland.  One day I woke up and the trees had changed color and lost a great deal of leaves.  The weather turned damp and everyone walked around stylishly bundled up.  Also, I can tell it's fall by the 600% rise in interest in people seeking out English lessons.  It's like clockwork.  Every start of October and February, there's a rise in people asking for lessons, and all those lessons (and interest) cease in June.

The seasons move quick here.  Summer didn't fade into fall like I was used to; it just shifted gears and dropped twenty degrees.  I meandered about in Kabaty to tramp through the leaves (I love to skip through huge piles of fallen leaves and kick them about.  Yes, it is as awesome as it sounds.)

The growing seasons are weïrd in Poland.  For instance: right now there are no more squash in the markets.  That's right.  Squash.  I'm used to squash disappearing half-way through November, not the end on September.  It was absurd.  The markets are mostly empty now anyway; all the farmers have packed up. There are plenty of apples for sale, and that's fine with me.

Also, the colors don't change a lot like in the northern states and Canada.  My falls have always been vivid with red, yellow, orange fireworks of leaves changing.  We used to hike up a mountain and look out to see a carpet of exploding color.  Here, leaves change a paltry yellow and drift to the ground where they rapidly turn brown.

Newsies

Yesterday it rained so hard that part of the subway flooded (or so I was told; I was inside the entire time.) The downpour lasted only a little while, and the sun came out in time to turn everything into a muggy sauna. It's like living in a gym sock.

This past week, a lady showed up at the lab, chatting with all the professors and my supervisor. She was rather small, about 40 years of age, and wore an elegant, sexy black evening dress (as if she was off to a high-class restaurant.) On her feet, she wore sparkling silver slippers.
The next day, she showed up again, taking a tour of the lab. Again she was decked out in fancy attire, which struck me rather odd. I later asked my supervisor who she was and why she was dressed so. He replied that she was his professor when he was in Paris and she was in Warsaw on vacation. She had studied in Warsaw in her youth, so she could speak Polish quite well. Her manner of dress was because apparently that is the current style for women in Paris.

One of my students and I went to Powsin, the Park of Culture in Kabaty. We went to the line park (it's difficult to say what exactly it is. It's part zip-line course and part obstacle course.) You get into a harness with a couple of carabiners and a pulley attached and you climb up into the canopy of Kabaty. There's a course that goes from tree-to-tree, each span has a different type of 'bridge'. They range from a zip-line to a net that acts as a bridge to several logs that act as stepping stones. It's actually rather cool, rather new, rather fun, and rather makes-me-uneasy. I personally don't think the whole construction of the thing is really up to par (they use a lot of duct tape and clamps; the duct tape is mostly used to cover the sharp ends of the steel cables.) You're supposed to be clipped the entire time to some sort of anchor, usually a steel cable. This brought me little relief, because I was sure that if I did fall off, my harness would then crush my nuts while I dangled in space. I think I'd have preferred to fall to the forest floor below.
We did the second-hardest course (about thirty feet up. The hardest one is apparently forty-five feet up.) I'm actually not the hugest fan of heights, so the first few things unsettled me a little bit. I got the hang of it and began enjoying myself. It was near evening, so being up that high with the sun sinking low was a nice experience. My camera ran out of battery power before I even got there, so I don't have any pictures.
Mid-way through, a guy from the office (who runs the whole course) came and started talking to us. They wanted to close and he kind of wanted us to hurry up. As we made our way through the course, he'd tell stories of people on that particular span or would shout advice ("Left, right, left, right!") Towards the end he wandered off back to his post to sit with his friends, leaving us to finish up and return the harnesses.

In Powsin, there are a whole line of faucets which pour clean water and you can drink. The only place in Poland I know where on can drink the water from the tap! (I know there are other places; don't get all huffy.) There's about twenty faucets and people come to wash up or refill their water bottles (bikers and runners especially.) I first sipped the cold water with some trepidation, but I saw that others were gulping down huge quantities (and I haven't gotten the shits yet, so I figure it's OK.)

Analysts think that the Polish stock market will decline.

Oh, so very hot.

A Random Collection of Thoughts

The open fields of the Polish countryside? No! Warsaw!

The run down, deserted fair rides at Powsin.

I found a temporary replacement for my dying camera.

The garden on the balcony is thriving in full vigor. The tomatoes are growing up and the cukes have turned into a small forest in a bowl. Soon, the morning glories will be climbing up the walls.

Some of the plants growing on the balcony.

I think I met a hooker at a bus stop. I wasn't able to confirm, but the way she was trying to catch my eye made me suspicious.

These days at the lab are sometimes rather slow. The campus is deserted now that all the students finished up with exams and all the professors are now taking vacations. Just today, the Professor who is kind of above me (above my supervisor even) awoke me from my nap. I quickly showed him some results I had on the boundary layer (I got it with a hot-wire CTA probe.) Good thing Excel was open on my screen.

Late afternoon in the lab.

There's a film festival going on in Warsaw right now, but I haven't been able to get on over there. I think tomorrow I'll catch a film or two. I highly recommend anyone able to, to go (the prices are only 5zl each per film.)

Cleaning the balcony during a rainstorm is the best time. No one has laundry underneath, and you only have to sweep the dirt and grime to the edge and let the water take care of the rest. The Christmas tree was out there for several months, and was only recently taken down. I was able to sweep away huge piles of brown needles with the assistance of some of the heaviest rain I've seen in a year.

One of my students, Roza (let's call him), wants to take me to a strip bar. He says that in Warsaw there's a club with 100 girls, and in Poland, you can touch the girls (a big no-no in the States.) He told me a story of a time when he was in San Diego, when he reached up and gave a girl a caress. The bouncer immediately yelled at him (but he wasn't thrown out.)

One more lesson and the week is over.

Students: New Crop

Well, it's not a completely new crop, but there are a few new faces. It seems like the new bourgeoisie are still looking for teachers. For what it is worth (blessing or curse) most of them are nothing like my previous crop. (Some of my first posts are here and here.)

I have the good fortune of one of my students being a teacher (of English, no less!) It sounds a little strange (she even charges the same rate as I do!) but I think it's beneficial for both of us. We trade teaching styles and techniques, plus I get paid.

The other day, one of my students and I walked through Powsin, the culture park in Kabaty. We were going to go to the zip-line park there, which he said was great fun (and I believed him) but, alas, it was closed.

It was fine anyway, we took a seat beneath the shade had a beer (Krolewskie.) We chatted about the recent brouhaha on a recent Polandian post (I highly suggest reading the article and the comments.) I talked about why there are roads lined with empty shells of houses, half-finished. He calmly talked about how there's a bunch of corruption, which slows down public works (like the subway) and that many people build their own houses by themselves, so they simply build over the course of several years as they get the money (foundation one year; frame next; finishing touches on the outside; complete the inside.) Seemed logical to me.

Teaching has allowed me to connect to various parts of Polish life. There's a good mix students: ones from Warsaw, others from towns; some are well off, others (like Tomek) are not so; some are students, while others are middle-aged. What binds them all together is their desire to speak English more naturally—whatever their motives are.