As soon as I got on my international flight from Chicago, it started to sink in that I would be going to a really new environment, a new culture and a new part of the world that I really had never been exposed to. The thrill of learning about a new place always excites me. I feel like I understand Greeks and Turks, the history, the religion, and the stories that make up their collective social base. And now I am on to Central Europe where the history of the people is ancient and recent all at once. The reality of communism is raw and freedom is fairly recent. On the flip side, the future of EU membership and economic stability create hope and it’s an interesting dynamic to be around. Slovakia is the youngest country in the world if I am not mistaken and its kind of a cool thing to see a country so young and growing so fast.
The woman sitting next to me offered her story as soon as I politely told her to get out of my window seat. As she struggled with the tray table while speaking to the flight attendants in fluent Polish, I thought to myself how much more interesting the people are on international flights. The Seattle/Chicago flight had me sitting next to a fat businessman flying back home to DC. That’s as far as I got before falling asleep. Fascinating.
Anyway, this woman started telling me how she was going back home to Poland for the first time in 38 years to visit her sister who was 5 years old when this woman left. Her husband of 40 years had just died and she kept telling me to be young and have fun and not to wait till your old because you never know if you’ll get it all in. She was telling me all this while fumbling with every possible object in site that was attached to the airplane. She might not have understood how to get her seat in the upright position but she certainly had some wisdom of the years. After seeing two ends of the political spectrum, Soviet Communism and American Democracy, she decided the best place in the world would be where you could follow your heart with open opportunities but not worry about crime when you walk down the street. Doesn’t that sound nice….
Between reading “A Thousand Splendid Suns” and Isabelle Allende’s “ My Invented Country “ and listening to this woman’s story of leaving Communist Poland for a better life in America, not returning for almost 40 years to the country of her birth, and having children who speak no Polish, I just can so appreciate the enormity of leaving your home. I can’t imagine what that would be like but I do know the sadness I have seen in expats eyes, even choosing to leave your home country would be overwhelming, but to have to leave would be completely heartbreaking. A little deep I know but this is what I think about when I have 9 hours on a flight. Let’s be honest though I was passed out for 5 of them. The Polish Airlines idea of entertainment is a little different than British Airways, the Chip n’ Dale cartoon didn’t exactly keep my attention.
I arrived at Krakow airport and found my manager soon after setting down my bags. We got in the car and chatted almost the whole 2 ½ hours to Ruzomberok, until I could no longer keep my eyes open. We talked about the team, about his brother playing basketball at Butler University, about Slovakia, about Las Vegas, and everything in between as we drove through the Polish countryside, reluctantly (on my part) continuing along to Slovakia even after seeing the turn off to Auschwitz. We talked about the communists and how his dad still remembers when people would be shot if they tried to cross the border into Austria but how soon they wouldn’t have any border control because European Union countries will surround almost all sides. See what I mean about the old and new history?
The rolling hills were absolutely beautiful, tree covered high lands, cottages and streams on the lowlands. We passed cows and flocks of sheep grazing in the sun, and steep roofed Polish homes with gardens of vegetables. After we crossed the border we wound around the two lane highway, the snow capped Tatras Mountains in the distance, a 400-year-old castle balancing precariously on a cliff above, old communists block apartments dotting the small villages. Soon we rolled into Ruzomberok, the ‘city’ of 30,000 people that will be my home for the next 8 months.
The city itself probably isn’t much to write home about but the surrounding scenery is breathtaking. There are mountains everywhere you look, lush trees on most, bare, grazing land filled with sheep and horses on some. A river makes its way slowly through the center of town and chimneys from a factory billow smoke.
My manager and I make our way to the gym for the tail end of practice where I meet my new teammates, none of who appear to speak English, but are nice and welcoming. I reluctantly declined not to join them all at our sponsor’s spa due to the fact that I needed to see my apartment and sign some papers. I was assured that we go to the spa twice a week as a team so I’ll have plenty of opportunity to indulge in this wonderful cultural tradition. I met my coach who seemed nice enough and our massuese/trainer, who looked like an eastern European shot putter, which coincidently is exactly how I like my masseurs to look. Sure enough, after practice today I was on his table half naked getting those kinks from the sleeping on the flight worked out. I am such a massage whore.
My team is quite on the ball it seems, or perhaps my standards have just been lowered that much. The fact that my manager called me before I left the country was the first sign; I think that’s a first. I always seem to sign contracts and get on planes, hoping that someone read the itinerary and will be picking me up on the other end. So he was five minutes late….. He actually had a computer printed sign with my name on it to hold up and it was in a plastic sleeve! I guess my standards have been lowered. You know its bad when you start noticing plastic sleeves.
My apartment is in a small former communist block building, meaning its ugly as hell on the outside and the toilet is by itself in a 3”x4” room, and all the walls are straight and box like and painted stark white. Everything else though is new and fully stocked. I even had small requests this morning before practice and about fell over when I walked in after practice to find the clothes horse I asked for placed in my bedroom. I waited 4 weeks for a cutting knife in Turkey because I asked for it and was too stubborn to just go out and buy one myself. I even have a brand new DVD player next to my TV, something that has always been in my contracts and never ever actually in my apartment.
More soon, I just got back from Czech Republic and have plenty to write about….
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