Corpus Christi in Łowicz

I've got to tell the truth, I'm a sucker for traditional costumes.  Lederhosen, kimonos, you name it.  Anyway, practically every Polish girl I meet gets the same question, "So, do you have a traditional Polish dress?  No?  Why not?"   And why not indeed, they are adorable.  They're bright, flashy, garish, totally impractical in today's world.  They also are expensive (around 1000zl per dress) and weigh a ton.  (NOTE:  Not every girl gets treated to that question, but I have asked it on occasion.  I just wanted some hyperbole in this thing and to add a dash of danger and mystery.)

Anyway, on Corpus Christi, there is a procession in Lowicz, a town to the west of Warsaw and about an hour away by train.  The procession in Lowicz is fairly well known, as is the beautiful cathedral that stands in the center of the town.  As soon as I was told that there'd be a 'parade' with these costumes, followed by a fair, I was like, "I'm there!"  So, I high-tailed it to Lowicz to catch the procession and take all sorts of pictures (be warned, there are many, because I just couldn't make my mind up.)

The start of the procession.

The first group of girls in costumes.

 The day was rather dreary and threatened rain, but that didn't put anyone off.  Everyone was out in force, and the procession was walking around the cathedral square.  I whipped out my trusty digital camera and joined every other person there in shooting as many pictures as I could of these wonderful clothes.  About six pictures in, my camera batteries gave out and I was left cursing myself for not preparing well.  Luckily, there was a kiosk not far away that sold batteries, and I was back making digital records of everything I saw.  Also, luckily, the procession proceeded  ploddingly, often stopping for long periods of time while prayers were said and hymns were sung and everyone watching swarmed the folks walking in the procession, taking enormous amounts of pictures.  (Seriously, half the show was watching everyone snapping away while the people in the procession posed, chatted with friends and family, or just sat.)  Halfway through, a mass was said (and I believe the celebrating priest was a Frenchman speaking as a guest.)  During these long pauses, the marchers often sat down, because, as I said before, the weight of their dresses was significant.  Most had to be helped up from their resting spot.  With weight comes good insulating ability, and just walking down the road could make one perspire in such a getup.

Both the very old and the very young were dressed up. 

When not marching, many posed and showed off their beautiful gowns.

A banner of a parish in Lowicz.

Who were these folks marching?  Well, they were mostly from Lowicz and the surrounding areas.  They were arranged in groups, each from a parish, and each carrying a banner (usually dedicated to Mary the Mother of God).  Men in spiffy outfits carried the poles to the banners, while the women and girls (and sometimes little boys) carried ribbons attached the the banner.  Sometimes a small pillow, again with the likeness of Mary on it, as well.  The pillow doubled as a seat when pauses were in effect.
There were also a group of Polish veterans, a troop of Ukrainians (invited in to dance and sing at the fair), and I guess anyone else who wanted to show off his or her fancy outfit.

Elderly women carrying an enormous rosary.

The procession of the banners.

Banners and marchers.

Looping around the square.

 The procession wasn't actually physically very long, 100 yards maybe, but they did move pretty slowly.  Every time the procession stopped, the men carrying the poles set them down, then turned around and faced toward the aft of the procession (I'm not sure why).

I like this getup: this poor fellow has two speakers as a backpack to project the mass.

Stopped and posing.

A Ukrainian troop marched as well as part of a Ukrainian exhibition at the fair.

Showing off her apron.

Listening to the Mass.

Little tiny bagels!  She seems to be enjoying herself.

Taking a rest from the walk.

The dresses themselves are pretty interesting.  There are many layers: petticoats, blouses, vests, skirts, and all wrapped up by a big, stiff apron.  The apron is what everyone sees and can be mistaken for a skirt.  They're big, stiff, and heavy.  They also kind of make every girl look pregnant (by the shape they take).
The men, in my opinion, kind of looked like Swiss guardsmen.  They also carried birch springs tucked into the back of their belts.  I was not able to find out the significance of the springs.

This beautiful young lass was kind enough to explain about the dress.

Lifting up her skirt so we could peek at what's beneath: her petticoats.

One method of sitting down.

Most of the girls had a standard leather boot with a small high-heel and red laces.  Others, wore stilettos (not the brightest decision, based upon their facial expressions), or simple flats.

Most of the girls wore these shin-high leather lace-ups.

Resting in a group, their backs to each other.

Standing around in those iron maidens can be tough.  It looks  kind of like they're all drunk.

The guys have their own costumes.  Also, the carried birch sprigs in their belts.

The inside of the Lowicz Cathedral.

The marching band!  (At the end of the procession.)

Andrzejki and Advent

With the onset of December, we have (semi-officially) entered the Christmas Season (OK, technically November 28th this year.)  Now, some may call false and say that the Christmas Season officially starts when Santa goes by in the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade. I shake a stiff finger at them and remind them that Christmastide actually begins on Christmas Eve if you strictly want to follow the liturgical calendar.  Advent still rings in Christmastide.
Anyway, right before Advent (November 30th, which actually was right after the start of Advent this year), the Poles celebrate Andrzejki (Darling Little Andrews), which is the feast of St. Andrew and also the nameday (imieniny) for Andrew.  It happens to be the last real party time before Advent (kind of like a Mardi Gras, but in winter), so people usually throw parties in and around that day, usually the preceding weekend (conveniently right before the start of Advent.)  During Advent, they observe a strict no-party rule where dancing is apparently forbidden (I found this out last night, much to my chagrin.)  Now, this doesn't stop everyone, but it does cut down on the wild office parties that have so plagued other nations.  Banging the secretary on top of the photocopier is generally avoided during this time.

We may be three weeks away from the start of winter, but I have to say that right now it's colder than a witch's titty outside.  The last few days have brought a decent amount of snow and the wind has been howling something fierce.  I actually enjoy this type of weather, and I loathe when it warms, allowing the snow to melt and then form treacherous ice.

Recipe: Knedle

Knedle are traditional potato-dough dumplings, usually filled with an entire plum.  They are incredibly filling and can serve both as a dessert and as a dinner (being so filling.)  They are actually really easy to make and popular with kids and adults alike.

Ingredients:
3 lb of potatoes

2 cups of flour

1 egg

3 pounds of plums
Sugar

Pinch of salt

Peel and boil the potatoes, then drain well.  In a large pot, start boiling some water.  In a bowl, mash the potatoes, and mix in flour, salt, and egg.  If the dough is too sticky, add more flour until a nice consistency is reached.  Pit the plums by butterflying them (slice one side pole-to-pole) and taking out the stone.  Fill the plums' centers with a teaspoon of sugar (sugar cubes are great for this), close them, then wrap the plums in dough.  Drop the knedle into the boiling water and cook until they float.  Remove with a slotted spoon.

You can serve the knedle as they are, or fry them in a slight bit of oil (not unlike pierogi).  You can also serve them in a sweet cream sauce.
In the holiday season, feel free to add a pinch of some spices to the dough (such as cinnamon or nutmeg.)  Knedle keep well when they are frozen, so prepare them when plums are in season, then freeze.  You can serve them all winter and spring, just drop the frozen balls into boiling water.

Freshly-made knedle.

Holy Week and Wielkanoc

As we close out Holy Week with the penultimate Easter Sunday (Wielkanoc: Great Night) a tradition-rich weekend lies ahead and, in fact, spills over into Monday. Today is Good Friday, which is actually a day of fasting, but most people just settle on fish.

Tomorrow, on Easter Saturday, families go to church for a blessing of baskets of food-święcone. It's well endeared here, and even the most lapsed of Catholics love it. A wicker basket, lined with a lace cloth, is filled with decorated eggs (pisanki), small loaves of bread, salt, pepper, a miniature lamb figurine, a miniature chicken figurine, and a piece of sausage. Usually, springs of boxwood and pussy willow garnish the whole basket. The whole thing is called święconka. As with anything tradition that incorporates something cute, beautiful, or requiring the minimalist of artistic merit, some people turn it into a competition on who can create the most beautiful basket. Apparently, the competition can rival Abel and Cain's in terms of the heat.

Easter Sunday, is a festival one, where people usually gorge themselves with food and drink. Everyone visits the inlaws for Easter Breakfast and then a lounging about for the rest of the day. The whole country essentially shuts down while everyone goes home.

Easter Monday (something entirely foreign to me) should rather be called Wet T-Shirt Monday, as rogues go about throwing buckets of water on hapless victims. My personal plan is to launch a full-scale bombing campaign off my balcony.

Tuesday? It's business as usual and back to the normal grind.

Christmas Traditions

Christmas is kind of big, so I'll cover it in a couple parts.  This year, it was not a white Christmas, but it was cold.

Christmas Eve in Poland is a bigger event than Christmas Day (in terms of traditions.)  It's a day of abstinence from eating meat, and if one is urged to attend Mass; however, not everybody does.  The main festivity of the day is a huge meal, which is mostly composed of fish dishes.  Before the meal we each took a large wafer (akin to the Host one receives in Church except they're big and square and have little pictures pressed into them) and everyone said hello to each other and wished each other health, wealth, good things, happiness, good grades in school, etc.  I mostly just stood there awkwardly and grinned while nodding.  After you wish the other person well, you exchange a small bit of your wafer (you pinch it off the other person's wafer) and each it.  Then, you move on to the next person.  After everyone has wished everyone else well, you all go around the table again.  There was a short, short reading of the Bible, and singing a carol.  I did not burst forth with a melodious rendition, but stood there and listened to verse after verse.  We sat down for the feast finally and began eating.  One curious thing I noticed, is that people here don't wait for others to sit down (or even be at the table or in the room) to begin eating.   For a place where manners are heavily enforced, I found this to be sorely lacking and quite surprising.

During the end of the meal presents were passed out.  It might just be this family, but the gifts were all anonymous and attributed to Santa "Saint Mikolaj."  I received a DVD copy of "Ogniem i Mieczem" (With Fire and Sword), which surprisingly works in my computer's DVD player (so it must be a Region 1 DVD.  I've had problems before with playing other European copies of DVDs.)  I also got a knife set in a handsome wooden case.

On nearly every corner there are Christmas trees for sale.  Most are rather small, which makes sense because most people have apartments.  We opted for one in a pot.  It's been referred to as a "Charlie Brown" tree because it lacks the heavy ornamentation that adorns all other trees.  A string of lights and a handful of bulbs bought from a nearby Tesco are sufficient.  Still, it's the largest of the family.  Other members have fake trees or ones so small they're more like saplings.  My pleas for a traditional method of getting a Choinka were rejected.  I wanted to slog into Kabaty, at night if need be, and chop down a worthy tree.  My mother recently claimed that her tree was the best of all time (a boast I had trouble believing, but that just might be my envy.)  My uncle went to a tree farm and chopped down his own tree (my aunt was not impressed with the one he chose.)    Both my mom and my uncle chopped down large trees and just took the top (an acceptable method.)  Going to a farm is not exactly the same as hunting for that perfect tree, but it's still better than buying one off the street corner.

The tree salesmen nearest to the apartment were way too overpriced.  We had to go one subway stop and got one for half the price: 40zl versus 99zl.  I had to carry the tree on the subway with the top snagging all sorts of places on ceilings (have you ever really noticed how topographical ceilings are?  One doesn't notice it until having to lug a tall object about that scraps against all surfaces under ten feet in height.