As I’m sure most of you have noticed, I spend at least a few sentences in every blog on the cold; I am not going to do that this time. Typically, I regale you with quips on the intensity of my hatred of the weather which remains cold and grey. I work endlessly to try to convey the complete sense of hopelessness when staring into the cold and snowy night (actually it’s the afternoon but the sun goes down at 3:30 so it seems like night). Anyway, as I’ve said, I’m not going to do that this time. Instead, I’ve decided that I should devote an entire entry to the cold, it only seemed fitting.

For all my griping about the snow, I will say that I have discovered several fun things to do. First of all, stay inside and sleep. That’s my personal favorite; I like hibernating and appreciating the beauty of the snow from the window. I like seeing the orange hue the dense sky takes on after dark, with the reflection of street lamps onto snow bouncing up and being caught by the clouds hanging low overhead. I like to watch snow falling, sometimes in large chunks and sometimes in gentle flurries. I also like waking up to see six-inch icicles hanging from the gutters and shining in those rare instances of sunlight.

Well, isn’t that just sweet? Now, let me tell you what I really like about the snow. I discovered only last week sometime the satisfying crunch you can make by trekking through snow. When having no real reason to go out, I spent time watching the little snow flurry turn into a foot of snow, but the time had come for me to actually go out in that big, cold world and much to my surprise, I was incredibly amused by the sound of snow crunching under my boots. It was actually euphoric which should tell you a little something about the pathetic state of my life at present. Really, it is quite boring. Anyway, this had pretty much been the height of my snow fun until I went to Oświęcim in a blizzard last week. Well, maybe not a blizzard, but it sure felt like it.

The trip began at the train station in Krakow, where (to no one’s surprise) I had an incredibly difficult time actually getting a train, mostly because the ticket agent kept trying to tell me to pay on the bus. I kept pointing out that I couldn’t do that because I wanted to take a train, but she didn’t seem to care. Her expression was something along the lines of ‘so buy a ticket on the bus anyway!’ This was upsetting. Once finally having figured out where to purchase a ticket, I had an interesting and prolonged conversation with a vendor and a nice lady in a strange hat about the correct pronunciation of drożdzówka (which actually harder to pronounce than it looks). After I had finally procured said pastry, I headed to find my train.

Once boarding and being scolded initially by the conductor, I found that the first compartment was full so I moved on into the next, which reeked of sausages. My sensitive and empty stomach could not take that so I found an empty seat in the next compartment and began to do some work whilst eating my drożdzówka. This is where the trouble began. First of all, there were four of the most obnoxious girls I have ever heard in my life. They cawed and cackled, very loudly. People were leaving the compartment and as we made stops along the line, I figured they would stop, but of course, they continued. I would give people looks as they came into the compartment, that pained expression ‘if you know what’s good for you, step away from the compartment’ or ‘if you value your sanity, please turn around and exit quickly.’ At some point, it really became too much for me as well and unable to actually articulate this in Polish, I had to use some convincing body language to voice my displeasure (nothing vulgar of course) just some strategic huffing, door slamming, and menacing glares. Anyway, I found solace in the next compartment but also a classic example of Polish trains.

The seats are heated from beneath but they only seem to heat about half of the seat, which is too hot to sit on. I spent an uncomfortable 40 minutes on the hot seat, so to speak, being yelled at by the conductor yet again for some minor offense. Once my buns were well done, we were thankfully in Oświęcim. Now, for those of you unaware, Oświęcim is the town where the Auschwitz camp is located. Anyway, I braved the falling snow and sub arctic temperatures to track down every information agent in the station to find out how to get to the Auschwitz Jewish Center, to which everyone (without exception) gave me directions to the camp. Sighing that sigh of quiet resignation, I just stepped into the snow and looked helplessly about. I noticed a sign a few yards away so I trekked over to it. The snow had come on again so suddenly that there was no time for anyone to clear it away, thus leaving me to battle my way through knee deep snow to get to quite possibly the most unhelpful sign in Poland.

The sign itself looked promising; it was a map of Oświęcim. There were also helpfully little places marked on the map with numbers. Unfortunately, these numbers did not coincide with anything (there was no key). I stood dumbfounded in front of the snow as I slowly started to lose the feeling of my kneecaps in the snow. Realizing that frostbite would be unfortunate, doubly so as I couldn’t actually communicate to anyone in any real meaningful way what my problem was. I could actually lose my kneecaps making life even more difficult than it already is. So, what did I you ask? I called Jaime.

He spoke to a taxi driver who was (as we say down South) pert’neart 90 years old. He asks me if I spoke a little Polish and I told him very little, he said the same about his English. We had an interesting and lively conversation in Polish to which I understand about 70% of it. Thankfully, he did not use too many verbs and used as few complicated sentences as possible. At this point, the snow was coming down so hard that I couldn’t actually see anything out the taxi window. I could have been half way to Ljubjlana before I knew it. Luckily, this never came to pass and I was dropped at my location with nary a problem.

The visit to the Auschwitz Jewish Center was quite nice. I had coffee and donuts (as it was Fat Thursday) with the director (my interviewee) who was brilliant and fantastic, a simply wonderful human being to speak with. I browsed about the exhibit and thought carefully about his musings. Interestingly, the center is built at the site of a former synagogue of Oświęcim. The center was opened to educate visitors about the Jewish history of the city before the Holocaust and is a fantastic exhibit- a real key to another part of the complicated past. As luck would have it, the museum is to open a new exhibit soon with artifacts uncovered at an archaeological dig of the old synagogue of Oświęcim. There is an article (see links) which talks about this ‘Auschwitz Treasure.’ As WWII had broken out, Jews from Oświęcim had buried the ritual objects near the synagogue. Time wore on and the great synagogue was destroyed by the Nazis leaving no trace of the Jewish community of Oświęcim. Fate, that fickle friend, is also rather funny.

Apparently, an Israeli gentleman was in a shop one day before going to Poland and met, by chance, the shop owner who came from Oświęcim and said that he remembered the articles being buried there some years ago and for this man to go and find them. That he did. These articles are soon to be placed in the exhibit.

As my visit drew to a close, it was imperative that I return to the train station to catch my luxury ride back to Krakow. I managed to avoid danger until I paid for my train tickets where I, unbeknownst of course, had managed to rip open my thumb. I could do nothing but sit quietly on a bench waiting, hoping to avoid further misfortune.

When the time drew near for my train, I walked to the platforms which were completely covered by snow. With a few moments to spare, I engaged in some snow crunching, which relaxed me before heading over to my platform. With the freshly fallen ankle deep snow, a thought dawned on me. I could make snow circles! (Crop circles in the snow) This combined both snow crunching and design so I thought it was a great idea. I, of course, did it backwards so crop circled myself into the center and stood there helplessly while others looked on. I eventually made a dive out of the circle and stood next to a giant heap of snow, which gave me my next great idea.

The mound of snow was up to my armpits with a good bit of it fresh. I picked up a handful of it and automatically made it into a ball. I stared momentarily at it and upon gazing up, I saw it standing before me like a beacon… a metal pole! It called to me ‘throw the snowball at me!’ So, I obliged. I spent a good deal of time just throwing snowballs at the pole. Of course, at this point, the cold started to get to me, so things got weirder.

I balled the snow up and in my mind (a very scary place indeed) you could hear the following:

World Series, 1987, Texas Rangers, and New York Yankees vying for the title. Bottom of the ninth, Rangers lead by 1. Yankees have the bases loaded, batter with 2 strikes and 3 fouls, this pitch makes or breaks the game. Nolan Ryan, blinking from the broken nose he received two pitches earlier when the 100 mph fast ball ricocheted off the bat and caught him square in the face. Blood still staining his white shirt, he focuses on the plate and the batter. He steps up, looks over his left shoulder to keep an eye on the first baseman, then his right to check the man on third, leading by two strides over the plate, looking ready to break for home. Blinking against the lights from the stadium, he focuses in on the catcher’s mitt, and waits for the signal. His catcher points one finger down to the ground, Ryan gives him a nod… the fastball again. Ryan winds up, hurls the ball across the plate, the batter swings, and then a moment before the sound catches up… Umpire yells ‘Sttt-rike!’ as the snowball crashing and explodes into the pole.

This was an amusing game, I missed a lot but there was something satisfying with the breaking of the snowball against that pole, until of course, I hit a Pole.

I argue that all of this isn’t my fault. First of all, nobody would have gotten hurt if this man hadn’t stood right in my trajectory forcing me to change sides of the snow mound, and upsetting my aim. All of this was well and good until two girls walked up (right through my snow circle I hasten to add) and stood close to the pole. Thinking that up to this point, all my misses had been to the other side of the pole, I continued on. Well, as it turns out, the snowball went a little far right and exploded on the side of the pole just throwing snow chunks all over the Pole. I tried to look innocent and thought to myself how I had single-handedly set back American-Polish relations by a good ten years. To my relief, she thought the snow had fallen from the top of the pole and landed on her, improbable but, hey, it saved my neck.

With snowball over, I tried to amuse myself with snow juggling, which is impossible and completely pointless. Realizing the train was now 10 minutes late, I knew I needed something to do to keep my mind off the cold, so I built a miniature snowman. I even gave him a yarmulke in a moment of inspiration and made him a little snow dog to walk… I didn’t give either of them legs though, which might cause problems in their going for a walk. Before I could consider this further, the train had arrived and I was on my way back to Krakow on Poland’s top of the line ass burning conveyance.

On the way back, I had a sudden urge to go sledding. Of course, I don’t have a sled, so that makes that difficult. Sledding was always one of my favorite things back in the days when we actually got snow in Tennessee. Ah, yes all those times I almost died sledding into trees Ethan Frome style were behind me and just tender memories remained. One of my other favorite snow activities was making snow cream, which is basically ice cream but with snow, obviously. Not viable in Poland, you can die from eating the snow.

There are also many not so fun things about snow. First of all, it’s cold and wet. I hate losing feeling in my face and hands or having the nosepieces of my glasses freeze to the bridge of my nose. No matter what you do, something is always exposed leaving you with red immovable cheeks or frozen eyebrows; there really is nothing you can do at a certain point. You have to wear a lot of clothes which get wet and cold because that is the nature of snow. When it’s ankle deep in the wrong shoes, you can end up with a shoe full of snow and consequently, toes that take three hours to thaw. You’re forced to hobble around on the balls of your feet because the slightest pressure on the toes is excruciating and unbearable. It’s even worse when it’s knee deep, as I mentioned earlier, and the danger increase. The worst thing is snow sludge, that thick ooze that accumulates and clumps about the roads. It’s a deep brown from combining salt, sand, and dirty shoes tramping through it. All you have is a brown mess that squishes through your shoes.

It also makes inside floors slippery and I’m forever walking into a coffee shop and seeing my feet, uncontrolled, sliding away from each other, and away from me. I can’t even begin to explain my dislike of ice. I had several classic near death acrobatic experiences near Poczta Głowny where it was certain that after my triple lux double toe loop had been executed, I was sure to fall ungracefully and most painfully in a heap. I spend most of my days now praying that I not die from cracking my head on a frozen pigeon after sliding forty feet down an ice sheet on Dietla street.

When I told this story to Jaime, he quoted to me from Bill Bryson’s “I’m A Stranger Here Myself.” He said, “I can’t believe you do this for a living.” You know, I think he has a point.

Links:
Blog:
http://blogs.bootsnall.com/april/

Auschwitz Treasure:
http://jta.org/page_view_story.asp?intarticleid=14305&intcategoryid=5

Auschwitz Jewish Center:
http://208.184.21.217/

Your online guide to snowflakes, snow crystals, and other ice phenomena
http://www.its.caltech.edu/~atomic/snowcrystals/

Quotes of the week:

“Cats are smarter than dogs. You can't get eight cats to pull a sled through snow.” -Jeff Valdez

“The aging process has you firmly in its grasp if you never get the urge to throw a snowball.” -Doug Larson

“A lot of people like snow. I find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water.” -Carl Reiner

“Love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then suddenly it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come.”
-Matt Groening

Latin Phrase of the week:
Neutiquam erro.
I am not lost.