Back in Action

Well, it's been a long several months, but I'm back in Poland's borders.

I flew over on British Airlines, and I must say that I am not impressed. OK, their seats are fairly comfy, but the rest of the experience was less than great and they charged me $110 in bag fees (can you believe that shit?)

As usual, I was doomed to have the center seat on both flights next to the most horrible people on the plane (not counting screaming babies.) The entertainment system also crashed an hour into the flight and needed to be rebooted. I must say though, Surrogates and X-Men Origins: Wolverine were both pretty awful. I gave up bread for Lent, so I wasn't able to have the little roll that usually accompanies airline cuisine.

Going through Customs was the quickest ever and my bags were some of the first onto the carousel. The bus arrived shortly after I got to the stop. Unfortunately, the bus driver only had 1.10zl in change (a one-trip ticket (bilet jednorazowy) is 2.80zl) and all I had were a 10zl note and a 5zl coin. I eventually just gave him the 5zl and he gave me 1.10zl in change (the whole thing pissed him off good.)

I was told by numerous Poles that the weather was freezing and that snow drifts were high. The temp today and yesterday was in the fifties and the sun was bright and shining.

Now to get back some students and find a real job.

Now, after a good night's rest, I've planted most of my seeds which will be grown on the balcony. No cucumbers this year, but the tomatoes and the morning glories will be back in force.

Missile-laneous

(Note: The title is a bad pun.)

Most everyone must have heard about the recent developments with the US plans for a missile shield in Poland and the Czech Republic. (They were pretty much cancelled, if you hadn't heard.) Anyway, the missile shield is being scaled back from a land-based one to a sea-based one. One can debate the practicalities of such a move and most of the response has been favorable, except from the respective governments. The Joe "Loose-Lips" Biden went on a whirlwind tour to calm down their fears, and apparently Poland is still going to get that battalion of Patriot missiles it always wanted.

Poland and the Czech Republic favored the initial plans (though their populations were hardly united on the issue) firstly because they were going to get a buttload of money (always something good.) BUT, it also did something else: station US troops on Polish soil in US installments. Russia was a bit peeved and threatened to place the Iskander missiles in Kaliningrad (already the most militarized place in Europe.) The US troops with US installments gave assurances for a few things. When Russia invaded Georgia over a year ago, most of Eastern Europe (Baltic States and Ukraine first and foremost) started to fear that Russia was going to come after them next. Some felt that the US response was lacking (i.e. no combat troops were sent.) US troops in Poland gave the Polish a warm feeling because it meant that if Russia attacked, US property and personnel would be in harm's way, forcing an armed intervention by the US and the rest of NATO (already, NATO (Poland included) flies patrols over the Baltic States, and has for some years.) You may ask, "Well, Poland is a major US ally, of course the US would defend Poland regardless if there were US troops in Poland or not." But remember, the Polish have been left high and dry too many times to really believe in a doctrine of defense. They'd rather have the troops. And they will.

Also, snow in October? Strange.

On a chance amount of luck, while rummaging through some old boxes a few years back, I found an unopened bottle of Russian cognac. When I first had it, it burned quite a lot and wasn't too pleasant. Recently, I've been adding just a smidgen to my sugar cookie eggnog, and it's been quite delightful. It smoothes out the over-sweet nog and enhances the body. I recommend it to all.

The Traditional Polish Salad

The name of the post is actually a misnomer (but not by much. It's actually called Salatka Jarzynowa.) An extremely popular Polish salad is one that resembles a potato salad sans potatoes. It's eaten on holidays, at parties, and makes up a 'standard' dish of Polish cuisine. Canned tuna is a relatively new thing, and this recipe utilizes it well. Honestly, at first it seems a little white-trash, but it's pretty good.

The ingredients usually include:

1 can of tuna

1 can of corn

1 red pepper (diced)

1 pickle (diced)

Some minced chives

Plenty of mayonnaise

Salt and pepper to taste

Mix everything together in a bowl and serve.

There are many variations of this recipe. Some used chicken instead of tuna, others have peas or minced onion; even apple! (It's all good.) Diced, hard boiled eggs are often added as well. Add something that you think will work, and eat away.

Proto-ness

One major observation I've had, and continually point out, is the national/ethnic pride to the point of absurdness. (Note: This is by no means a Polish trait; far from it, in fact. I'd say that 90% of world is this way.) There are various examples (with Poland) about which I've written, made comments, and had conversations (in forums, other blogs, to students, friends and acquaintances.) A small selection includes things like: cities such as Szczecin and Gdansk being German; it being pointless to be angry at Germany after all this time; the role of the Szlachta in the dismemberment of Poland-Lithuania; roles of Polish peasantry and Polish freedom; Polish beer; Pan Taduesz isn't that great. I've had many a rousing debate about Polish history, but mostly it devolves into something where 'he/she/they' simply start making comments on how I'm an American and therefor: blindly patriotic, stupid, young, and don't have a clear perspective; and I belittle them for acting like children (which they usually are.) Spats like these are nothing really new, people are inclined to 'defend' their homeland/history/pride by others deemed not to know anything of the like. Anyway, whilst reading Norman Davies' The Isles, I came upon an interesting example of something similar:

"…prehistory and archeology have inevitably developed in an intensely political context. Nationalism has never been far beneath the surface. Immense efforts have been made to discover a past to which modern people could relate, and, where necessary, to exclude those elements of the past that were politically inconvenient. Prussian archeologists would prove beyond question that the prehistoric monuments of Prussia's eastern borderlands were indisputably Germanic. A few decades later Polish archeologists working with identical material established that the selfsame monuments were indisputably, and ab origine, Slavonic. Neither side paused to ask whether those monuments were not, at least part, Celtic." –Norman Davies, The Isles: A History, p. 40, New York: Oxford University Press, 1999.

The quote deals more with politics (as in, being able to hold claim to the land and being able to claim to be native to the land (see more about the Israel-Palestine conflict for a prime example)) but it helps illustrate how some people can just be ridiculous and choose to ignore important viewpoints or facts. Sometimes outside eyes are needed to see clearly.

Been Real Quiet 'Round Here

In truth, I've not yet logged in or written a post in almost two months. Well, I've got a full plate right now, and I just can't seem to find the time or the will within me to hammer out a few rants about this and that. Have no fear; I will return.
Soon, I'll be writing a research paper on the Jewish-Polish relations, and it'll probably be posted on here.
I'll be back with less scholarly pursuits as well. Be prepared for recipes and bits of wisdom and crassness. Do not despair.

Seventy years after WWII: Warsaw

Some seventy years ago Germany crossed into Poland and started WWII. An interesting article is here.

Several leaders will be in Warsaw to commemorate the start, most notably Angela Merkel and Vladimir Putin (who, I hear tell, rented out the entire Grand Hotel in Warsaw.)

The Poles are demanding an apology and acknowledgment from Putin (having gotten several from Germany over the years.) Putin seems to deflect these, giving vague statements about the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, mostly saying that it was 'unfortunate', but standing by the Russian view that it was just as valid as Chamberlin's "Peace in our time" Munich Agreement, which handed Czechoslovakia over to Germany, and delayed the war by about a year. There's one big, stark difference between the two: England and France didn't then conspire with Germany to carve up much of Europe and start attacking countries (the USSR did just that, annexing the Baltic States; fought Finland to more-or-less a draw; annexed a half-dozen other countries.)

Six years later, Poland was a smoldering pile of rubble with about a fifth of its population dead. For the next forty-five years, they would be lorded over by that wonderful Union of Soviet Socialist Republics.

Attitudes in Western Europe and America are a tad different than here. Most everyone there is eager to forgive and forget WWII and the Cold War, but in Eastern Europe, they're still at each other's throats (not that Russia has done much to satisfy.) Putin isn't much into acknowledging that Russia has faults, or has done any sort of wrong at any time. Drunk as he may have been, Yeltsin at least laid a wreath at Katyn.

Well, there's still some anger here. I had a particularly rousing discussion with one of my students about Polish history. She immediately dismissed that because I was an American, I knew nothing of history, nor could I even have the capacity to imagine what happened to Poland. I suggested she start liking the Germans, seeing as they are mostly decent people, and now are one of Poland's allies and benefactors. She cared not.

Also something further, I find this interview very interesting:

Richard Overy has written a most excellent book The Dictators: Hitler's Germany, Stalin's Russia. It's superbly written, very illuminating, and surprisingly funny. I recommend it to anyone who wants to learn about Hitler, Germany, the USSR, etc.

Ireland: Kilrush and Kilkee plus the Litter.

I've mentioned before about my dallying about in Kilkee, the seaside resort in County Clare. Here's a more in-depth explanation:

An abby ruin lying in a pasture.

The road in the Western Highlands

The bus ride to Kilkee was about ninety minutes through the Western Highlands. An amazing thing about Ireland (or at least this part) is the amount of neglected ruins standing in the middle of fields. We might pass by a sacked abbey, a crumbling castle, or merely a watchtower standing in the midst of a pasture with cows grazing about it. The weather was gray and overcast with a smattering of rain. The rain there was never a heavy downpour, but rather more of a dense misting.

The whole reason to visit Kilkee was a concert at the main church, which I was informed later used to hold Polish Mass every Sunday (the Polish population dwindled apparently. But, there was a Polish store on the way into the town.)

The town itself is rather small and situated on a sand beach on the harbor. Cliffs rise up on either side of the beach and grassy hills undulate towards the inland. The lack of sun didn't take away from the majesty of it all, and the gray sky melded with the wavy steel sea. A breeze pushed breakers in, causing a dramatic spray and boom as broke against the black rock shore. A golf course was nearly indistinguishable from the surrounding countryside; all that let wary hikers know there was a course there was a few signs warning of flying balls, a small wire fence, and a random sand trap. There wasn't a tree in sight.

Some people playing a round on the links.

Across the bay.

A shot of Kilkee.

The grass was so soft. It was like walking on whipped cream or down feathers. Rolling down the hill (yes, I did do that) was extremely satisfying and was even better than doing it in the snow. Unfortunately, there were tons of trash lying about. Trash barrels stood virtually unused as garbage was strewn around the landscape. It wasn't just in Kilkee, but in Limerick and Kilrush as well.

One of the many ignored signs.

A small bit of evidence.

Apparently they have no idea what this is for.

Kilkee seemed to be suffering/benefitting from a housing boom, as brand new beach homes lined the roads facing out to sea. They were obviously rented by the week or weekend, and one could see straight into each home due to the large glass frontal windows that afforded them a view of the bay. The main street of Kilkee was lined with tourist shops and fish-'n-chips take outs. It was rather quaint indeed. By the beach there were a few stands selling periwinkles (things I used to smash as a kid for fun, but never ate.)

Beach houses facing the ocean.

Kilrush was a larger town, more set back from the shore. It had numerous bars, all of them displaying some soccer game and all boasting of live traditional music. Kilrush also had some infatuation with butcher shops as well, as there seemed to be too many to really be supported by the local populace. There were almost as many butcher shops as there were bars (these people apparently like their meat. When I was in a grocery store in Limerick, the meat section took up a good eight aisles-worth.)

A shot of downtown Kilrush.

Limerick was a bustling city that closed down after five o'clock. Everything closed except a few bars and maybe a store or two. In some parts litter blanketed the ground like leaves do in the fall. Aside from that, it was rather charming.

On a bus in Limerick. Apparently gum litter is a big crime.

I must stress that everyone there was extremely nice and charming. I've never met such lovely fellows. Everyone was so warm and inviting (aside from a few, such as the man at the bus stop yelling racial epithets.)

Near the University of Limerick there is a ruin of a castle, one that has stood for hundreds of years. Most people there don't know about it, or seem to care. Now it's overgrown and serves as a place for college students to party and fuck.

Trash at the castle.

One of the many empty condom wrappers.

Litter is just everywhere; including cow pastures.

Apparently a pasture is the proper place to dispose waste.

It makes the meat tastier.

Ireland: The Overview

I've recently returned from my trip to the Emerald Isle (my first ever.) Not surprisingly: the weather was crap, the food was almost inedible, the dentistry was lacking, and all the workers were Polish. The landscape was beautiful, dotted with ruins, and oh-so green. It was also dotted with litter and some horrific suburban sprawl.

Coming in through Cork via Warsaw, it was easy to see that the vast majority of the passengers were Poles sporting freshly cut crowns (haircuts are cheaper in Poland, so they cut their hair before they go back and cut it really short.) Exiting the airport, I was greeted by the most foul-mouthed bus driver whose every other word was 'fuck'. It was a rather quick drive to the Cork bus station, and a short wait at the terminal.
At the station, there was no shortage of entertainment, as a middle-aged, scraggly Irishman began yelling racial epithets at two black cabbies waiting in the parking lot. The asiatic lady standing in line behind me noted that he had done this before and that he was actually riding our bus. He stood there yelling at them, with them yelling back (one started to do a mock goose step and Nazi salute) until a security officer came by and began talking to him. He peacefully turned around and boarded the bus.
The drive to Limerick was very beautiful and the clouds were just inspiring. This inspiration was short-lived as I found out that my living place was a dorm of the University of Limerick, and it was a revolting mess. I don't know how the furniture could have gotten so grimy—it was as if it had been left out in the elements for the better part of a year—or what exactly the stains on the carpets and mattresses were, but I wasn't impressed.

But that's all nit-picking. I made a trip to the seaside resort of Kilrush. The town itself is undergoing some expansion, which is less than pretty. The coast surrounding the town took my breath away. Green fields went right up the dark, shear cliffs, which fell away to the gray ocean. The grass was thick like matted hair, and as soft as down. It made a nice mattress on which to roll down the gentle slopes (which I did.)

A small tragedy of Ireland is the amount of litter (which will be covered in a later post.) Kilrush, with is beautiful land- and seascapes, was no exception. It was in every cove, niche of rock, and grassy field.

Ireland's recent boom has brought tons of new development, which means rows and rows of identical homes developed in the most horrendous fashion. It's ancient history is abound everywhere. Ruins of castles, abbeys, and watchtowers stand in lonely fields with cattle and sheep grazing about them. One such castle, right beside the River Shannon, stood as an overgrown ruin almost totally ignored by everyone.

Aside from the dreary weather, bland chow, and dingy quarters, everyone was extremely nice and lovely (lovely in the personality sense, not in appearance.) Strangers were quick to introduce themselves and engage in conversation.

Overall, it was a splendid time.

Eire: An Update

I am currently not in Poland, but rather in the Emerald Isle. I'm actually sitting in the library of the University of Limerick typing this. It's been interesting and I'm sure I'll have some shenanigans to talk about.

Przystanek Woodstock 2009 Last Weekend: The Performers

The ideals of Woodstock—a weekend of love, art, good times, good people, good music—lives on today, even if the hippy spirit has mostly wafted away like oh-so-many puffs of peyote. The counter-culture culture became mainstream; they were no longer the oppressed youth seeking free love and mind-liberating drugs. Most of them grew old and got jobs and families; some grew old and still live as grubby old men you don't want to sit next to on the bus. Every new generation still has its 'hippies', and festivals like Burning Man and Bonnaroo are huge draws. Phish was immensely popular despite not being very good (let's face it: Phish sucked. Good riddance.)

It is in these the concerts where we come closest to the hippy culture (those, and some communes still eking out an existence.) But the culture is corrupted. These concerts, psychedelic colors and all the puke, piss, and mud you could ever want, are dominated by the mainstream bands of the day. Woodstock '94 was more about Nine Inch Nails' climb to fame than about Jimi wailing on his guitar. Megadeath, Snoop Dogg, and Metallica—all three are decisively 'anti-hippy'—were just a flavor of Woodstock 1999. What happened?

Well, hippies got old and their kids didn't really want to be like them. The bands of the hippy era either broke up acrimoniously, or had multiple members die from a druggie-lifestyle that would have killed a lesser life form years earlier. The music of love and peace isn't exactly topping the charts (that honor goes to music about drive-bys, blowjobs, and why you're such a ho.) So, to capture today's youth, you have to push out a bunch of corporate-sponsored acts whose ideologies are in direct conflict of the original Woodstock.

With all this preamble, I will now bring our attention to Przystanek Woodstock. There were many acts, some foreign, most were Polish. I don't feel like addressing each act individually, since most of it is a matter of taste (plus, I'd probably be reduced to just writing "was good", "was shit" comments after about five reviews.)

Instead, I'll focus on one of the main features of the festival: The Special Anniversary Concert for the Years of Woodstock. Performed half-way through the festival, it sought to bring together all the music of the world and spew it out in a concert of classic covers. The set list included numbers like: The Beatles' With a Little Help From My Friends, Janis Joplin's Cry Baby, and Green Day's When I Come Around. Surprisingly, only one of those songs was sung at the original Woodstock (Richie Havens sang With a Little Help From My Friends and some other Beatles tunes; The Beatles were not at the original Woodstock. Janis Joplin didn't perform Cry Baby.)

Actually, there was a much larger set list, which had several songs that were played at Woodstock, (including the National Anthem (both Poland's and the US') on electric guitar.) The entire set was accompanied by a full orchestra.

The whole idea behind these numbers is that they would meld together different music types from different eras in one big celebration. Sometimes it worked—like in the case of Ewelina Flinta's entirely capable rendition of Cry Baby—and other times it crashed in burned: the operatic singers singing in With a Little Help From My Friends, and the lead singer of When I Come Around.

Ewelina Flinta, a contestant from some Polish Idol show, belts out a throaty song, losing any sort of accent, and proving she can do folk rock/blues/jazz as good as any American crooner. Her outfit, I guess meant to evoke the hippy roots, seems entirely in place; almost as if the psychedelic facade of the stage was actually in the right time and place.

Not bad for an almost-winner of an Idol TV show.

With a Little Help From My Friends is an entirely different story. The leader singer, Piotr Cugowski, isn't so bad. He actually manages to do quite well. The two warblers behind him, however, are so horrifically awful, so terribly shitty, that nothing can save this performance. Their screeching, off-tune 'singing' threatens to drown out the entire ensemble, replacing a very nice song with the equivalent of operatic mayhem. I hear tell, that the rest of the performers (the choir and orchestra) found the entire thing comedic to the effect that they had to stifle their laughter.

Brings new meaning to the words "What would you do if I sang out of tune/ Would you stand up and walk out on me?" —Yes.

The creme de la creme of crap performances (and terrible management in booking performers) is Maciek Januszko's hilariously bad When I Come Around. It's just so, so bad. Watch for yourself to see where his flaws are.

This song is supposed to sound like it's sung by an angsty fifteen-year-old, not a wasted fifty-five-year old wash up.

The finality is the inevitable song together of all the celebrities and performers.