7/3/09
it is very nice here, that being a massive understatement. there is a sort of white noise of insect buzzing, and once you get used to it you don't even really notice it any more. it reminds me of beach camping, when the crash of the waves is so familiar you almost forget where you are. you stop noticing, or caring, really, when wasps and bees land on you, 'cause they're just coming to check you out. with the birds in the background, and the trees and grass fluttering in the very slight breeze, it is very difficult to imagine that the world around you is anything but living, breathing.
I would come here to go off the grid, if I wanted to escape, for no one to find me. if I was running away. I don't have anything to run away from, yet, thankfully.
it's a nice place to come to remember how to listen. sometimes I forget how to listen, simply because there is so much noise.
7/4/2009
I wonder if I'd like me if I met me.
is it bad that I don't automatically say yes?
the poles are addicted to tea. herbata. it's an unconscious thing for them, really. kind of like breathing. there is always tea in a polish house, and if not, you better find out where they're hiding the real people you're supposed to be visiting.
I hate language barriers. they make me seem so antisocial. all I want is to be able to speak, and I can't. it's infernally frustrating. with french and italian, it came so easily that I never had to do this. now I understand how annoying it is. I actually thought I knew a little polish, but being here put into perspective the fact that a two year old has a better vocabulary than me.
it's a work in progress, like many things, I guess.
7/5/09
my stepfather put things rather interestingly, and aptly, which he is not given to do since he lacks very basic eloquence sometimes.
"it's a poor country, but you can live pretty well, huh?"
as I sucked down my coffee with excessive whipped cream on top, ate my sweet, hand-picked cherries and buttered my fresh bread, I could not help but agree. the poles are a simple people, not at all in a negative sense of that word, concerned with living the good, simple life. they really have it figured out.
I was one of those kids (and still am one of those people) who goes out of their way, if they can, not to step on ants or anthills. I was reminded of this today when I was walking across the bridge in town and was distracted by a little movement near my feet. dozens of tiny frogs, no bigger than the nail of my index finger, were frantically hopping around at my feet. I crouched down to look at one. they were so tiny, delicate, beautiful.
we should all look where we step.
