October 22, 1998
October 22, 1998| Memoirs from Poland
A European summer, ASU style
This past summer, seven students from Appalachian’s Department of Communication completed their internships in Warsaw, Poland. These seven students went to another country to experience living and working overseas for five weeks—to experience a culture unlike their own. During the course of the summer, these students lived with host families who are students at The Communication and Media College in Warsaw. These families opened up their homes to ASU students and taught them about Polish culture. The students were able to work at places such as the Warsaw Voice, Radio
ESKA and advertising firms such as Corporate Profiles/DDB. Working overseas gave these seven students experience in their fields of interest, plus the ability to adapt to a new environment. They weren’t required to speak Polish, and therefore had to overcome the language barrier in order to communicate. Besides gaining professional experience, these students learned about themselves and each other. Seven students who normally would never have gotten to know each other became the best of friends after being together in a foreign place for five weeks. Adapting to a foreign country alone can make a person very self-reliant. That is what these students have achieved. Adapting to any new environment is not a difficulty for them anymore. Each student has many memorable impressions about their time in Poland; too many to write about. What follows is an account from each of the seven students about some of their most memorable experiences. Mike Daniels
As the member of our group who most enjoyed himself, it is awfully hard for me to pick out one favorite memory from my summer in Poland. I got to go to so many places and see so many things that I really don’t think I’ll ever forget any of it. When looking back on the trip, it seems that the things that have cemented themselves in my mind are the experiences that I never expected would happen. I knew that Warsaw, and all of Poland for that matter, would be beautiful, and it was. I knew that I would see a lot of museums, statues and other monuments of culture, and I did. However, there were a lot of other things that I saw and did that I never anticipated. These are the things that I will always remember. For example, in my third day on the job at the Warsaw Voice, Warsaw’s English language newspaper, I was sent to cover a government press conference conducted entirely in Polish. Needless to say, I was just a little bit scared of the assignment. That night at home, it took me hours to go over the conference with my host Jadwiga and have her explain to me what had happened and translate quotes from my tape. I have never before spent so many hours working on a story that turned out to be less than eight inches long. I also never knew before I left that it would be nearly impossible to find a nice, simple glass of ice water on a hot day. I learned that lesson one muggy July afternoon walking up and down the
streets of the industrial city of Lodz, where all the water was carbonated
and warm just as it was everywhere in Poland. Likewise, I did not know until this summer that Polish people like to make fun of the Czech language and that Czechs refuse to exchange Polish money. Also it seems that no matter what city one goes to in Eastern Europe, there will always be Romanians there begging for money and playing the accordion. Perhaps the memory that will stick with me the most is one that I shared with my group of a party we went to our second weekend in Warsaw. One of our hosts, Adrian, knew someone that was throwing a big party in the country just outside Warsaw, and he wanted to take our group. We all met downtown at 10 p.m. that night, our bags and backpacks filled with warm cans of Zywiec and EB (Polish beers), ready to go. We took one bus to the outskirts of the city and then got on another that headed to the country. At some time around 11:30, we got off the bus to find that we were in the middle of nowhere on a dark highway. Adrian and the other Poles in our group led us up and down and across the roads in the dark, trying desperately to find the party. When we tried to run across the highway, several of us almost got hit. Finally, Adrian found the backyard bash, which ended up being very similar to an outdoor frat party in Boone. There were a lot of drunk and high people crammed around a bonfire, as it was surprisingly chilly that July night, smoking, drinking or cooking kilbasas. By about 3 a.m., most of us worn-out Americans, who were still not used to the time change, had decided that we were pretty tired of sitting around, drinking warm beer in the cold with a bunch of drunks and potheads who barely spoke English. Since the buses had stopped running that far out for the night, we called a fleet of cabs to come pick us and our hosts up, and take us to Adrian’s friend’s house where we would crash for the night. After another long ride through the country crammed into three little Fiats, we finally made it, to where, we did not know, but we were there. Of course, we had to pay the cab drivers about $15 apiece, since it was so late, and the Poles did not contribute very much. Adrian’s friend, whose name has slipped my mind now, was very gracious about letting us sleep wherever we wanted to in the house. He actually gave me his bed while he slept in a small beanbag chair. Although none of us were drunk, we were exhausted, and the fact that the sun had already been up for an hour made us all realize just how tired we were. It was after 5 a.m. when I laid down to go to sleep. I awoke at around 8 a.m. with a cat that sounded like Darth Vader growling at me about six inches from my face. I tried to go down to the bathroom and wash up, but because one of the Poles that had gotten drunk had thrown up in the sink, I could barely stand to be in there for 10 seconds with the awful smell. That morning, we all dragged ourselves to the bus stop to the amusement of the local townspeople. Tired and dirty, it took me about an hour and a half to get home on the bus. When I got home at around 10:30 that Saturday morning, Jadwiga had some breakfast made for me and then let me go to sleep. Although it was perhaps a night not unlike one that could have been
just as easily had in America, I will always remember it just because of
where it happened to me and some of the looks I got from the old people
sitting on the bus that morning.
Bethany Biesecker
My first week in Warsaw, I spent an evening socializing at my newly discovered and then favorite pub, Lowlek. When the evening had ended, I took a cab back to my host’s apartment. Once there, I paid the driver and checked the time. It was almost 1 a.m., so I cautiously proceeded around the building to the front entrance. It was not until I came to the front door that I remembered there was a code that had to be entered into a security code panel board. Unfortunately, I did not know it. On the other hand, I did know that my Polish host, Karolena, lived on the fourth floor. I looked up from where I was standing and saw what appeared to be her bedroom light on and a window open. I thought to myself, “Oh, this won’t be a problem. I’ll just yell her name a few times. She’ll hear me and come down to open the door.” My plan did not go as easily as I had expected. First of all, at the time I was yelling, “Karolena!” over and over again, I did not think that other people would yell back too. After about the fifth yell, people in the apartment building began opening their windows and started yelling back, “Do you know what time it is?” and “Shut-up!” Along with this surprising flood of responses, I realized “Oops, I’m on the wrong side of the building.” I walked around to the other side of the building, noticed a light on, saw a window open, and heard music from the fourth floor. I had no doubt that this was Karolena’s place. Feeling a bit panicked, I did the same thing I had done before. I yelled her name out. Of course, the same thing happened again. People yelled back at me. For five minutes, I had been attempting to get Karolena’s attention. Out of consideration for the neighbors, I ceased yelling and went over to a bus stop, sat down on a bench for a few minutes and thought of a new plan. There were three phone booths across the street, so I thought that I would call her from one of them. The thing that I was not aware of was that one must have a special phone card just to use a phone. I checked out the other booths, and they were all the same. I thought, “Surely, if I would make an emergency call to the police, I would not need a card.” I discovered that I was wrong after I had attempted to call the police. A card is necessary for all calls. Things seemed a bit hopeless, because I had not been successful. I walked over to the bus stop bench and parked for several more minutes and came up with another plan. I thought that if this last plan would also fail, the bench I was sitting on would be my bed for the night, among all of the late night traffic, the drunks and the homeless. This plan was my very last option. It was simple. The plan involved me going back around to the front of the building to the security code panel board, and I would just start punching in numbers. I knew from watching Karolena once before that the code had a two, seven, zero and one in it. After about 15 minutes and numerous number combinations, the door miraculously unlocked! My plan had worked, and I had prevailed. A few tears had come to my eyes once I entered her apartment, because I honestly felt at one point like I would be spending the night out in the cold on a hard bus bench. Karolena was laughing, although I was a bit shaken. From this experience,
I have a completely new and personal outlook on issues pertaining to the
homeless.
Erik Tavcar
My internship in Warsaw, Poland this summer was quite an interesting experience. The opportunity to see a city so imbedded in change was one I will always appreciate. Ninety percent of the city was destroyed during World War II. The Old Town was in rumbles, but the Polish people take so much pride in that section of the city that they completely rebuilt it. The architecture looks so authentic that one could not tell it was not the original unless they were told. For the most part, the buildings aren’t very attractive. Most of the apartments are tall and plain looking and painted a dull gray, remnants of the communism era. The focus of downtown Warsaw is the Palace of Culture, which most of the tourists admire for it’s beauty, but most of the Polish people cannot stand because it was built by the Russians. The entire city of Warsaw can be viewed from the top, and souvenirs can be purchased. The current changes are also interesting, as Poland is moving towards a free market. There are fast food restaurants like McDonald’s, Burger King, Pizza Hut, KFC, and Taco Bell. The downtown area looks like any major capitalist city with designer shops, newsstands and street produce stands. The last weekend of my trip was the 54th anniversary of the Warsaw Uprising (Aug. 1, 1944). It was on that day that the Polish rebelled against the Germans in World War II with no help from the Russians, who were observing on the other side of the river. The people of Poland covered every war memorial with flowers. The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier from World War II was truly impressive. There are two soldiers always on guard, and the area is always lit. The war memorial that moved me most was just outside of Old Town. It was a statue of a little boy who was wearing a uniform too big for him and a helmet much larger than his head, just standing there holding a gun. My internship showed me many things, the most important of which was
a culture unlike my own that I can now appreciate and try to understand.
Barbara Selfridge
Upon arriving in Poland, I had no idea what to expect. I guess that having had no expectations meant that I could not be disappointed. My experiences in Poland were numerous and multi-faceted, each yielding a wonderful new insight. One experience in particular touched my heart the most. Sitting next to a friendly Pole on the plane led me to believe that the Polish people would be nice and receiving. This is not something that can be said about every European country. I found this idea comforting, because I was about to get off the plane and meet the girl I would be living with for the next five weeks. I had no idea when I met Agniesszka Lindemann that we were going to become such great friends. I could have only wished for the friendship that was bestowed upon me. One of my most touching experiences in Poland was living and getting to know Agnes and her family. She spoke English well, and we were able to talk about anything. Her family was very generous in accepting me, treating me like one of the family, and providing me with the conveniences of home. I owe my great time in Poland to Agnes. I learned many things about her life, including the history of Poland. She was able to give me a stronger feeling about her country’s plights than any book ever could. Agnes was able to go to work with me, so we spent almost all of every day together. This was nice, because we really got to know each other. We had many similar experiences and interests, considering we were two people of different nations. Agnes touched my heart and made Poland a comforting place for me to call home for five weeks. My memories of our friendship will last a lifetime.
Dana Mattocks
There are many memorable things that I did while in Poland. The most memorable of times was going to a Jewish restaurant in Krakow. During my time in Poland, I learned a lot about World War II and how the Jewish people were treated. We visited a Holocaust museum and Auschwitz, the largest Nazi concentration camp in Eastern Europe. We also went to what used to be a Jewish ghetto during the war. That old ghetto is now a neighborhood where many Jews live. There is a restaurant in this neighborhood called Ariel. It serves authentic Jewish dishes and is decorated accordingly. The night that our big group decided to go was Saturday. Every Saturday, a band playing Jewish music visits the restaurant. Just after we had ordered, they came in, set up and livened up the room. The music was great.
We had learned so much about the Jewish history in Poland. We all had such deep compassion for the people. All of the information about the Holocaust started to come to my mind while watching them play. I felt tears come to my eyes. Our group never really talked about how it made us feel, but it was just kind of understood. That was not only the most touching experience that I had while in Poland, it was also one of the best experiences of my life. Brooke Kurek
Having never been out of the United States, I did not know what to expect when going to Warsaw, Poland to do my internship. I was not expecting Poland to be like America, but some aspects of it were. The first couple of weeks I was there, I went through culture shock. There were things there that I had no idea were part of their culture, much less things one would see in America. My host and her family taught me a lot about Polish culture. Most families in Poland don’t have two cars, but her family did. Most families have washers but not dryers. Most families also live in flats (apartments), while some families are lucky enough to afford to live in a house. I learned that Catholicism is not the only religion in Poland. While the majority of Poles are Catholic, other religions are creeping in. My internship was at Radio ESKA. I felt the listeners really enjoyed listening to me, and they were very hospitable. They would call and wish me well and ask me a lot of questions. One lady tried to give me a cat to take back to America with me while another one cried when I left. They would even come by the radio station to see me a lot. I was not expecting this kind of kindness but was very happy to see it. One of the most shocking things about Polish culture, and the most memorable for me, was how men and women acted in their homes. Most were not very discrete about their clothing, or should I say, the lack of clothing they wore. My host would run around at home with just her underwear and tank top on. My host dad liked to come home after work and literally strip down to his underwear. He would prance around in them doing such things as lawn work and eating dinner. He would even stand in front of you while he would talk to you. This was unnerving and made me really uncomfortable, but apparently it’s very common in Poland. Of all the things in Poland, their culture was what stood out to me
the most and made a lasting impression.
Pamela Formyduval
Doing an internship overseas was an opportunity I didn’t want to pass up. I worked for the Warsaw Voice, the English speaking newspaper in Warsaw, Poland. Working in Warsaw was depressing at times. It’s not that the work was boring, because it wasn’t. It was the city itself. My expectations of a European city did not meet what Warsaw offered. Luckily, our group got to travel on weekends and see the rest of Poland. We were able to go to Gdansk on the Baltic Sea and went to Hel Beach
while there. One weekend, we traveled to Krakow and visited Auschwitz,
which was an hour away. Of all the things and places I was able to go to and experience, Prague was the most memorable. Prague is in the Czech Republic, bordering Poland. By train, it took us 12 hours to get there, partly due to the fact that the electricity on the tracks went out for about three of those hours. Many things happened to our group that just would not normally happen to anyone. What happened to me in Prague just seemed to fit right in with our entire trip. It was a Saturday night, and we had been out touring all day. Some of our group heard about this bar crawl going on and decided they wanted to go. I prefer not to drink, but went anyway just to hang out with everyone. The bar crawl was to start at 6 p.m., and we waited around for a while, but no one but our group showed up. Therefore, we decided to make our own bar crawl. After going to a couple of bars, we ended up at one featuring a Hungarian band. People packed this bar, and seating room was limited. I found a bar stool on which to sit and proceeded to watch everyone else drink. The room was filled with cigarette smoke, which I didn’t care for, and the loud music, although musically enjoyable, wasn’t helping things much. After about two hours here, I had had enough. I wanted to go back to the hostel, but it was obvious I was alone in my decision. At first, some of the group tried to tell me how to walk back, and then some told me to take a cab. Being in a city I didn’t know and not being familiar with the language, I opted for the cab ride. The center of Prague has a big city square where a lot of cabs wait. Barbara, one of the American students on the trip with me, walked me to the square, and we got a cab. We were both aware of the dangers of being ripped off, because we obviously came across as Americans, and so we asked the cab driver if he had a meter. He said “yes,” and I felt he was reliable, so I got in the cab and said good-bye to Barbara. Little did I think to ask him what his meter was set at and how much he charged. After a 10-minute ride, we arrived at the hostel our group was staying at. The cab driver told me it was 1,300 crowns, and all I had was about 900. Now, 30 crowns is about one U.S. dollar, and I was told at the bar that the ride shouldn’t be but 50-60 crowns. I freaked out and didn’t know what to do. The thought of jumping out of the cab and running to the hostel never occurred to me, but the thought of how to get more money did. The driver asked me if I had a credit card or ATM card, and with my apparent lack of thinking, I said, “yes.” We drove until we found an ATM machine, but it didn’t work. We found another one, and it did. I proceeded to withdraw 2,000 crowns off my already depleted credit card. Of course, the cab driver was running his meter the whole time. When we got back to the hostel, my ride was 2,200 crowns, not 1,300, and I paid him. I got out of the cab feeling cheated and angry-- cheated because I was a tourist, angry at myself for not jumping out of the car sooner, and angry at my group for sending me off alone. I found out later that I had spent an equivalent of $63 on a 10-minute cab ride in Prague from a place I had never wanted to be in the first place. All I can say about my cab experience is that it was by far the best of our stories about our Prague trip and a lesson to me about how not to ever trust cab drivers. |
