Barlinek, With Love

Very often I find it quite fascinating how life works.  And I say this optimistically because I've just come home from my holiday and everything is daisies and sunshine and utter perfection.  So, while I'm still under the daze of vacationism and I'm looking at the world with rose coloured glasses, I write this post about my lovely four days in Barlinek, a small, small (small) town in the north west of Poland.  It's got a population just over 14,000 and is situated around a large lake.  It has a quaint, "Canadian cottage" feel to it, but with the plains and forests of Poland.

This is where my grandparents live, as well as many of my aunts, uncles and cousins.  This is also the town where my parents grew up, met and got married, and the town where my three older sisters were born.  Despite being the only person in my family born in Canada, this town is perhaps the root of my family, so naturally I was drawn to it.

I visited seven years ago with my parents, but for two weeks instead of four days.  It's been seven years that I haven't seen my grandparents and I'm lucky that they're all still alive and well.  I'm unlucky in the sense that I haven't grown up with them nearby, but it's funny - seven years separation really is nothing because the moment I arrived I was welcomed with complete endearment and love.

This was exactly what I needed.  I've been living on my own in Copenhagen for about four months now and though I've been fine, it was the days leading up to this trip that I felt the most lonely and the most homesick.  My sister who was visiting had just left and shortly after I came down with a stomach flu.  I'm the sort of person who, when sick, loves throwing herself a pity party.  I wanted nothing more than to have my mother take care of me and nurture me.  I recovered on my own, but the following days I felt the weight of solidarity on my shoulders.

So it was a huge difference when I was soon within the land of my family.  My aunt invited me over for dinner right away and it was then that I realized just how long it had been since I last had a mother's home cooked meal.
 

Polish countryside

My first night in Barlinek, I was tucked into bed by my grandparents.... Need I say more?

The next morning, a feast was prepared for breakfast.  Something I learned on this trip was the cultural difference of meals and eating.  Breakfast was a vast arrangement of different things from slices of bread, cheeses and cold cuts, cucumbers, tomatoes, yoghurt, fresh fruit, compote (a special homemade juice), tea, coffee, eggs.  This wasn't too different from the big breakfasts I would have back home with my family.

Dziadek + morning feast

After breakfast, my Dziadek (that's 'grandfather' in Polish) took me to a place I remembered fondly from my last visit when I was 13 - his garden.  I'll never forget the little yet beautiful plot of land in which he's planted copious amounts of vegetation.  Apple trees, cherry trees, pear trees, rhubarb plants, raspberry bushes, kiwi plants and lots of radiant flowers.  I'll never forget the taste of the fruit I would pick from these plants.  Incomparable to anything you could buy at a grocery store.  It inspired me, and I told him, to one day have a garden just like his.  But this garden is more than just a cultivated piece of land, it's a very sweet reflection of my Dziadek's hard work and dedication.  Today, it is a hobby that gives him peace and motivation.  The way he describes each living plant and explains when they grow, I can see it is a passion of his and though he's too humble to admit it, he should be proud of his perseverance in this wonderful garden.

Dziadek's dzaiłka 

some of the goodness one could find in Dziadek's garden

Following this, my Babcia (Polish for 'grandmother') took me out for ice cream.  This isn't ordinary ice cream - my sister swears this is the best ice cream she's ever had, though she thinks it might be psychologically linked to her faint memories of eating it as a child.  Nevertheless, it was very, very good.

just a couple of gals hanging out

Then I went to visit my other grandparents, from my mother's side.  We sat down for coffee and tea and homemade cakes and cookies (welcoming the kilos with open arms).  And after a good catch up with my grandparents and my Aunt from Canada who was visiting as well, I had return to my other grandparent's house for dinner.

Dinner, you should know, is not your average Western culture, post-work, 6 pm meal.  During my trip (and I suspect this is a Polish thing, maybe even somewhat European), dinner was served anywhere between 2 - 3 pm.  So early and something I'm not used to at all, but I complied and because of my obedience in going back to my grandma's house at 2:00 pm sharp, I was rewarded with delicious food.

some yum tomato soup and compote

After dinner, we went to my dad's brother's house for...more coffee and cake.  Him and my aunt have the most beautiful house that he built.  The decor on the inside was not only visually appealing, but it was interesting, and behind every piece and function of the home came a story.  My uncle is very much into collecting antiques so it was fascinating to listen to when and where everything came from.  He had things such as ice skates from the 1920s to my Dziadek's old radio from his youth.  But perhaps the most unique part of the house was the miniature vineyard he had planted in his yard.  He had grapes growing from many different places around the world and then in his cellar he had a complete station set up for making his own wine.  I was astounded!  And later we got to try some, both white and a red.  I had never tasted such fresh wine before!  It was perfectly sweet, delectably thick and with just the right amount of a kick to it - it was heavenly.

kicking back with some red wine

Feeling the lack of exercise and incredible amounts of food in my belly, I met up with my Aunt and we went for a walk around town.  It was interesting to hear the things she had to say.  She was very shocked at the fact that it was a Friday night and we couldn't hear or see practically anybody on the streets.  She recalled when she was young, or even as little as ten years ago, there were kids playing on the streets or youngsters in restaurants or bars with loud music heard from all around.  She was right - it felt like a boring, quaint, almost abandoned town.  But the thing about Barlinek is that it's not actually as boring as it might seem.  There are lots of interesting people and when the weather is right (and when kids put down their damn iPhones), that's when they come out.

 

by the lake

an abandoned plantation - super cool

As the night grew old and we made our way home, my grandparents and I settled down and had some supper (the reasoning for having dinner so early).  Before bed, I asked to look at some old photos.  They had boxes of them - some of my dad and his brothers growing up, some of my grandparents in their youth, and some of my sisters as they were kids.  I was very curious to see what my parents looked like when they were around my age.  It's funny because I remember being a kid and looking through photographs and being somewhat uninterested in photos that were before my time.  Now that I'm older, I appreciate them more and look at every detail.

Babcia and my dad as a baby

The next day, I went to back to my mom's grandparent's house.  When I arrived, my Babcia and Aunt were out shopping, so I got to spend some quality time with my Dziadek.  I listened to all of his stories about his heart attack and his miraculous recovery, as well as his stories from the war.

Eventually, the girls came back and we got started on dinner.  I helped them make pierogis and with the whole production line we had going on (I did the cutting, Babcia did the stuffing and my Aunt did the folding), they were ready in no time.  We had two different kinds of pierogis - one traditional flavour with mashed potatoes and a soft cheese and the other a kind I never had before...a sweet pierogi with sugar and pitted cherries.  We had a few good laughs with the sweet pierogis because the juice from the cherries was squirting out everywhere but our mouths!

Once news of Babcia's homemade pierogis got out, my cousin came over immediately.  It's hard to resist something so delicious.  Afterwards, him and his friend took me out on the lake.  We rented a paddleboat and swam for a couple of hours, just as the sun was skimmed over the lake and was warm on our skin.  To be honest, it was just the kind of summer activity I had been craving for a while.

beautiful, no?

As the sun set completely, we walked to visit my mom's brother and his family.  Sat outside with a few beers and good company.

The next morning, my departure day, we went to church, the one where my parents were married.  Afterwards, during brunch, my cousin came over with her lively son and daughter to come see me before I left.  Her adorable children reminded me so much of my own niece and nephew and made my heart ache over how badly I miss them.

And then came that unfortunate time... I had to leave this loving town of Barlinek.  My dad's parents picked me up and drove me to the bus station.  My Aunt and cousin thoughtfully came as well to wish me farewell.  As I was seated on the bus and looked out the window, I saw the wonderful faces of my family.  We waved at each other for so long, my wrist was sore.  Finally, when the bus drove away, I felt a heaviness - I so badly wanted it to turn right around and take me back.  Like an anchor, chained to my ankle, that was being left with my family while I was being pulled away.

But on a lighter note, this trip gave me comfort in knowing just how close they are, both in distance and in relationship.  My heart tells me I'll be returning someday soon.

And of course, like a typical grandmother, Babcia couldn't send me away without some delicious nalisniki. :)

Pleasantly yours,
Bart

Choosing Happiness

A woman who played a crucial role in my not-so-distant past once told me about an interesting ending to a conversation she once had.  The person with whom she was speaking to, ended their discussion with the words we hear at least three times a day: "Have a nice day."

To which my mentor responded, "It's a choice, isn't it?"

Each morning, we wake up with the option of having a good or bad day and though we may not realize it at the time, it's a personal decision made at that very moment.  I'm not intending to say people should wake up with the sun shining out of their ass, because who really is a morning person anyways?  It's more of...a general outlook.  You can wake up and feel sorry for yourself.  You can count all of your problems on your fingers and toes.  You can bump elbows with a person and choose indecency and forget about any sort of apology.  You can whine and complain and participate in petty gossip.  These are all factors that aid in making up your mind as to the kind of day it will be.

When I start the day with the choice of it being a bad one, if I have the strength to turn it around, I will ask myself questions.

How can my life be worse?  Who can I think of that is having a harder time than I am right now?

But since misery can sometimes feel like the Burj Khalifa weighing over my shoulders, I need to go further:

Can I make a change?  If I am unhappy and have been for a long time, what can I do about it?

Making a change within one's life is something that requires a lot of courage.  We're creatures of habit.  And if suddenly we break the routine of our daily lives, it can be stressful too.  But stress is an inevitable part of life.  And so is unhappiness.  But while unhappiness often pokes it's head into the picture, it really shouldn't outweigh the presence of your happiness.  Cliché as it is, the best metaphor I can illustrate for life is comparing it to a roller coaster.  So yeah, maybe changing your life (changing your job, your home, your relationships, etc.) may disrupt the ultimate harmony that is your "schedule", and yeah it may take a few weeks of discomfort, but in the long run, that little step outside of your comfort zone, that little leap in a new direction, may be what you need to find your happiness.

In all honesty, I think the reason why I'm writing this is because I'm kind of going through this floating transition period.  I have just moved to Copenhagen and have started a new job.  I left behind people that were very important to me back home, but I also left behind a workspace that was making me unhappy.  I didn't even realize just how unhappy I was until I actually left.  I'm living in this new place now and surrounded by new people and it almost doesn't seem real.  It feels like I'm living inside a dream in my REM cycle.  I'm still adjusting.  And for a period of time, it was stressful (packed it all up in one suitcase, thank you very much.) But it's a fresh start and sometimes that can be bliss.

I was talking with my friends last weekend and I told them how happy I was, but that it frightened me.  Too often it has happened to me that in what has seemed to be a happy part of my life, something bad happens all too soon.  And perhaps that's why I'm constantly comparing life to this roller coaster.  Because just when you're up high, at the peak, you fall down faster than you can even breathe.  So yeah, I'm terrified that everything right now is too good to be true and that any second now, something awful and horrific will happen.

Thankfully, I have good friends.  They told me that I need to let myself be happy.  I need to accept and acknowledge this feeling that comes so softly and often is disguised by the bitterness in the world.  Human beings hardly ever let themselves be happy.  Either they are going through a tough time and are thinking "Man, I can't wait for this all to be over so that I can get a break" or they are in a tough time and remembering how easy they used to have it.  So often I look back on my previous years and think "If I had only known how hard my life was going to get."  I think that I used to have it so good.  But was I thinking that at the time? Hell no! At the time, I told myself "Your life is hard right now, but get through it and it will be fine."

So in summary, we believe happiness to be something either in the past or in the future and that makes it so far away and intangible.  The goal that I've given myself as of now, is to accept happiness in, not the past, nor the future, but in my present.  Right now.

I am happy.

The night I arrived, a rainbow came out.  I'm hoping it's a good omen :)

Pleasantly yours,
Bart