I'm sitting in my teeny single room at the Hotel Dipservice (and I hope "dipservice" means something of significance in Polish). It is Wednesday morning, and I've now been in Warsaw, Poland, for a whole week! It has been an eventful week, and I'll try to tell you about the highlights, but I do intend to start keeping the blog more regularly now, so stay tuned. Officially back from summer vacation!
I arrived in Warsaw last Wednesday, after a week in Sweden. Bjorn came with me, and we were greeted at the airport by Ania, a teacher at the school, who was holding a sign with my name on it!
After introductions, the first thing Ania said was, Good news! You're not going to be with the little kids anymore! They found someone else who was very keen to work with the little ones, so they've moved you up to middle school - teaching English literature and language! Well, I think this was good news, at least. I've spent the last three weeks getting excited about the idea of second grade, and now, with just ten days before the students arrive, I have to change gears!
Ania led us to the cute, little school van, with the IES logo on it, where a driver was waiting to whisk us away to the hotel, where we were to have our first of many laughts at its name. Ania is a petite thirty-something woman, and though I can't quite pinpoint what it is, there's something very Eastern European about her. She teaches middle and high school chemistry at the school and has been there for 5 years, and as far as she knows, she knows everything about everything.
The van took us through some fairly unremarkable scenery into Wilanow (and the w is pronounced as a v here), a residential neighborhood about 8 km south of the city center. Wilanow is apparently where all the wealthy folks live, and it feels very suburban. Tree-lined streets are filled with large homes with expensive cars parked outside. But don't think Golf Club Lane. The houses are smaller, and they sit on small pieces of land, each enclosed by a gate.
There's something about Warsaw that continually reminds me of some of the big cities of South America. Things feel vaguely European, but without the polish and shine of "Europe". Patches of grass next to sidewalks grow wild, untrimmed, making things look a mess to someone who grew up in the land of manicured lawns. But things aren't a mess; people just don't prioritize grass cutting. Instead there are trash cans on every corner, which people do put their trash into, and special boxes for doggie poo. So things are certainly not dirty, by any means, just pehaps a bit - je ne sais pas.
I threw my things down in the hotel room, and then, with Ania leading, made the short walk over to the school. IES is a pre-K through 12 school, and the school is spread out into three separate buildings within a 2 block radius. These buildings are really more like residentail houses, and they are all very attractive from the outside, done in a Californian white with orange tiled roof.
The main administrative offices of the school are in the primary school building, and when we walked in, things were very much in disarray. Men drilling things, huge boxes of books sitting everywhere - a work in progress, I suppose. And after touring around the building a bit, I saw that none of the rooms were decorated yet, which was actually rather comforting. One of my largest anxieties prior to arriving was that I would be behind everyone. I'd walk around the school peering in everyone else's perfect rooms and then come to mine, barren and empty. And then, of course, all of the other teachers would sneer and laugh at me for being so completely inexperience and unprepared, and I'd probably run away crying. But everyone was unprepared! How wonderful!
At the center of all this mess was Ms. Mira, the headmistress of the school and my main contact at the school thus far. Ms. Mira is an attractive woman in her late forties, I'd guess. She has short, wavy, dyed blonde hair, and a curvaceous figure, which she accentuates with her dress, more than you might expect a headmistress to. Not in a tacky way, though. Just not Harpeth Hall. Mira is Polish, but she lived in the States for 11 years (which, maybe oddly, always makes me feel closer to someone). Nothing of her manner suggests a person of authority, really. She's incredibly friendly, and sort of endearingly discombobulated. Whenever she says hi to you, it's as if she's just walked out of a gruelling four hour meeting, and she has 800 things to do before 5:00. But with a smile and a laugh! Mira and I had a short chat, and we made plans to go out to lunch the following day, which I appreciated.
Aside from that lunch, the next several days were pretty much mine and Bjorn's. The school had given me a list of apartments in the neighborhood that an agent was offering, and the hope was that Bjorn and I would spend the weekend getting me settled in - finding an apartment, dealing with cell phone business, getting acquainted with the city.
The apartment search has unfortunately not been a walk in the park, and I can't say the school has been all that helpful. Well, the school has been somewhat helpful, but they are really only able to put me in touch with agents, whose apartments are the most expensive in the city, and they charge a fat agent fee on top of it all. We went to see two very depressing apartments on Friday morning - even further out of the city than Wilanow, in a sterile and isolated neighborhood, in a sterile and isolated apartment building that smelled like cigarettes and felt like a hotel. I don't want to be picky, but I do feel like the upcoming year has the potential to be a scary and lonely one, and I think a depressing apartment will only make things worse if I've had a bad day. I also feel strongly that if I'm going to live in Warsaw for a year, I'd like to live in Warsaw. I'd like to walk out of my apartment and get a little...local flavor!
After hitting a total dead-end with the apartment searching (any classifieds out there are all in Polish!), we decided to spend some time being tourists. And let me just say, Warsaw is a fabulous city. I was shocked, actually. It seems unfair to me that WWII could make everyone feel like Poland is a scary place and not...Germany. Tourists flock to Germany! But not Poland. Well, it will be our little secret, then, because Warsaw is charming, beautiful, and full of life. And when you walk around the streets and realize that 60 years or so ago, the entire city was in complete ruins, it's even more impressive.
Of course, there is a kind of darkness that hangs over the city. Walking down a street, you might notice a spot on a building where flowers and candles have been left, and you remember that this was a place where someone was executed during the war.
But then you walk into the main market square of Old Town, and music is playing, outdoor restaurants are serving drinks, people are wandering around eating ice creams and taking photos - all against the backdrop of these exquisite, colorful townhouses. We sat out here and had a beer one afternoon, and I mean, I could have sat there all afternoon. I'm not sure if I can think of a more pleasant place. And I've seen a few pleasant places!
We walked the hell out of this city over the weekend, and I now feel like I have a fairly good grip on the layout of the place. What I do not even have a slippery grip of is the language. Mira encouraged me to not be afraid to just ask people if they speak English because, especially if you ask a young person, your chances are pretty good of finding someone who does. But still, it's embarrassing to have to start every single conversation with, Do you speak English? And every time someone speaks to you first in Polish, you have to say, I don't speak Polish. It's a crazy language. Nothing is pronounced the way you think it is, and the street names are seriously complicated. And while this was all sort of amusing when Bjorn was still here, and we could feel ridiculous together, now that I'm on my own, it's just plain irritating.
But I am reminded of my first week or two in Buenos Aires, when I pretty much refused to go anywhere that would require me attemping to talk to anyone. And that DID get better. After two months, I could communicate! I get the sense that Polish is much, much harder than Spanish, but perhaps I will be able to learn at least enough to ask for a bus ticket or order a meal without feeling like a 2 year old. We shall see.
Bjorn left on Monday morning, at which time I started a week of meetings and school related activities. I am still in the Hotel Dipservice, and my week of free stay here ends today. I have tentatively agreed to move into a super nice apartment tomorrrow morning (and I do LOVE the apartment, but I do not love the price) through the end of December. However, if someone else comes along today, I am going to jump on it. I haven't signed a contract yet, and no money has been exchanged.
At any rate, week one is over, and though tears of frustration have already been shed, I feel very positive about what I am getting into. It is going to be an incredibly challenging year, but I am ready for it. I'm very ready to work again (and not as a waitress), and I couldn't be happier with the city I've landed in.
I have a few new photos up if you are interested - http://picasaweb.google.com/ellen.bucy . More soon. Much love to you ALL!
And PS - I'm sort of thinking I may have to lock this blog up. Seems dangerous to leave it open to the public...if I want to really tell you EVERYTHING! But we'll see.
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