by Henry Urbanski Levering
Imagine being a sixth grader and your mom telling you that you would have to leave your country for a year. Would you be scared? I was, when my mom announced her plan. It was a normal day, and I had just come home from school in Mount Airy, North Carolina, and suddenly my mom says, "Henry, we're going to go to Poland for a year!" Now I knew she had always wanted to go to Poland for an extended period but never in my wildest dreams did I think she would actually do it. Of course, I made clear that I disliked this idea. I complained about it daily and made sure my feelings were heard.
But in what seemed like no time at all, I was on a plane, by myself, flying to a country that would become my new home. (Mom had business that would keep her in the States for a month before she was able to join me.) Now perhaps you don't understand exactly why I didn't want to leave home. Well here is why. Not only was I leaving my friends and family behind but also I had to fly to Poland all by myself. Could you do that? Well, upon arrival I was picked up by my Aunt (though in America she would be considered my cousin) Monika, who took me back to her flat, so I could rest. I fell asleep immediately and woke up at 12:00 noon the next day.
After a brief, but fun stay with Monika, I moved in with the Malinowski family, who had children named Bart, age 10, and Wiktor, age 6, who went to my school, the Canadian School of Warsaw. Bart is a fun-loving and energetic kid, which was great since I am also fun-loving and energetic. Wiktor, on the other hand, was loud and annoying, the classic "kid brother" who loved disrupting anything that was going on. The mom, pani Malinowska was a short lady who spent a lot of time in the kitchen or on her computer. She was also obsessed with hair so that every time I walked by she would complain and try to fix my long hair. The dad (pan Malinowski) was at work mostly but when I did see him it was mostly in front of the television or in front of a computer screen. Though my time with them seemed to fly by, nothing very special happened except when I was lucky enough to visit Chopin's birth place in Zelazowa Wola.
Unfortunately, the longer I stayed the worse the weather became. What started out as warm sunny weather turned into a constant pattern of dreary rain.
After spending a month with the Malinowskis, my mom arrived in Warsaw. After lots of hugs that almost killed me, we took our luggage to Monika's. We spent the night at Monika's and in the morning a man with a surprisingly big van brought our luggage here to a house owned by a dear lady named pani Malgosia.
Let me tell you about the changes in Poland since my last visit. The last time I was here a couple years ago everyone was lean and muscular but now after about two to three years the population is getting fatter. Where you would normally see a nice healthy restaurant you would now see a greasy McDonalds. The people aren't the only things getting bigger though. The cars seem to be getting quite bigger, too. Most European cars are small but now many Poles drive around in huge SUVs. As I'm sure you've guessed, this is a very bad thing.
Well now, back to my personal tale. After moving in with Mrs. Malgosia and getting used to my mom being here, I went back to my normal school boy life. I eat breakfast and travel to my school by metro, tram and foot. Oh, did I forget to mention that my school is about an hour each way -- if not more -- from my house? I must admit to feeling independent swiping my card at the metro and heading off by myself. I always take my ipod, so I can listen to music during my hour-long commute. I've noticed that some Poles are more polite than Americans and give up their seats for older people. But commuting this way is quite a contrast to getting to school in Mount Airy, where I walked nine minutes from my door to my school, passing only a person or two and a few barking dogs. My school is not so different from other schools I went to in the States. The lessons are the same I had in my school back in North Carolina, except of course in Polish. The rules are the same, too. Respect yourself and others, work hard, and always have an open mind.
Unfortunately the students and teachers alike are not supposed to speak Polish (because they are here to learn English) making it hard for me to learn any Polish in my free time at school. The school itself is small but with great teachers, staff and wonderful food. A normal lunch consist of hot soup and some type of hot meal ranging anywhere from meat balls to pasta. Most of the students are Polish, but like I said are not supposed to speak Polish. On the other hand, all students in the school get to learn French, so even if I'm not learning Polish I can still learn French.
After my school day is over, I hop back on the metro and come back home to do my homework, eat dinner, and go to bed after reading a bit of a book. I've finally started to feel at home. But don't get me wrong. I still am not quite used to the idea of staying here for seven and a half more months.
However, you never know. There could be some unexpected surprises. Yesterday, Mom and I hopped on the metro to visit Warsaw's Stare Miasto (the Old Town). When we stepped off the metro, a woman holding a Starbucks tray handed us each complimentary cups of hot mocha topped with whipped cream. I've never seen something like that before. I wanted a second cup! Then we strolled around the Stare Miasto, which is a wonderful place made to look completely medieval. We ended up in a fascinating shop called Lapidarium (ul. Nowomiejska 15/17), which contains military relics, old books, Nazi and communist-era coins, medieval amulets. The Old Town is just one of the many wonders waiting to be discovered here in Poland. CR
Picture by woodleywonderworks used with a creative commons licence
Henry Urbanski Levering is 12 years old and this is his fourth visit to Poland. Henry is pictured at left with his mother, Wanda Urbanska.
