Ranking right up there in powerful experiences, was a recent visit to the former Gestapo headquarters.  Currently a remaining portion is preserved as a museum to honor the memory of those who resisted and suffered, as well as a painful reminder of the human capacity for evil and ignorance.

I had meant to write about this earlier, but I haven’t been good about keeping up with my writing.  I’m resolving to fix that.

The building is now occupied by the Ministry of Education, with the museum below in the underground section.

From 1939 to 1945, this building functioned as the headquarters for the Nazi secret police: The Gestapo.  Prisoners from Pawaik Prison were driven here twice per day to be brutally interrogated. 

The museum walks you through the rooms where prisoners were held in solitairy confinement, queued for questioning, and subsequently tortured.

The first rooms we saw, after an introductory, informational video, were the solitairy confinement cells.  These small, nearly empty cells held a single prisoner, who was bound by a chain, bolted to the center of the floor.  Aside from a small window, there was a single cot.  The rooms look to be between 6 and 10 feet square.  In some rooms, there were bullet holes along the back wall from when the Nazis would fire at them through the peephole.

Some of the prisoners had etched letters to family, poems, prayers, and vengeful promises into the walls of the cells.  Many of these have been subsequently painted over during reconstruction, but were preserved in photographs and rewritten in an easier to read format.

Beyond that is the main office, where the prisoners were tortured.  There was not much there, except for a plain desk, and a display case containing the various implements used to torture the prisoners.  The music from a radio in the hall could be heard.  This music was played loudly in order to drown out the screams of the prisoners.

Next to that was a row of holding rooms, each containing rows of small wooden chairs.  Prisoners had to wait here for their turn to be tortured.  They were not allowed to move, even a little bit.  If they did, they were beaten.

Food was also, not surpisingly, insufficient.  At the end of the hall is a repeating projection of a prisoner struggling to stand.

Around the bend are a series of monitors, each displaying a lot of different information.  Some had information about the prisoners that were held and tortured there, others showed the progression of executions throughout the course of the war.  All of the information was gut-wrenching and painful, but important nonetheless.  There were stories of hope and strength.

The prisoners were all so dedicated and determined that few, if any, ever revealed any information.  Though it was very saddening, almost to the point of physical illness, it was also inspiring knowing that despite that terrible torment, the Polish people still refused to surrender.

Find more information at the Holocaust Education & Archive Research Team

Despite all of the things I did growing up that could have injured me, I’ve never broken a bone or received stitches.  I’ve also never ridden in an ambulance, or had to visit a hospital for anything more than some tests.  That all changed (except for the broken bones) on Wednesday night of last week.

The day started out great.  Lately I had been very tired because, I guessed because I’d had a stomach bug since the previous Tuesday.  I hadn’t been feeling well, and I imagined I wasn’t getting the most out of my meals, either.  Not that I was helping the situation by eating anything and everything I came upon.  But that morning, I felt great.  So great that I finally went out and got the hair cut I’d been meaning to get.  I had also mowed the lawn, another chore I had been putting off until I felt better.

But this was also the day that our dog, Greta, was getting spayed, or steralized as they say here.  So I dropped her off around 4 in the afternoon.  They gave her a shot to knock her out, and I stayed with her until she practically melted into my lap and was out cold.  It was after this that I went to get my hair cut.

I should also mention that Jess was out of town on a school trip, as was another friend of ours whose dog I was watching.  So after my haircut I came back to walk and feed Natty, and get some more work done.  Around 6:30 or so I got the call from the vet that Greta was all ready and I could come pick her up. 

When I got there, they brought her out in her green doggy hospital gown, all laced up the back.  She was still very groggy from the anesthetic, but her tail was wagging when she saw me.  The vet handed her to me and asked me to wait.  They were tending to a cat at the moment, and I still had to pay and take care of a few things. 

So I sat with her for about 20 minutes or so.  While I had her I noticed her foot was still bleeding (we had a dew claw with no bone in it removed to avoid possible problems with it in the future).  It wasn’t much, but the combination of the blood, unrine soaked smock, and drugged puppy were a bit sad.

Once they were able to see me, I went in and showed them the foot.  They then wrapped it with gauze, as well as her front foot where the IV was.  They said we had to leave it in until we came back in 2 days when they would remove it and give her a check-up and a few shots (pain medication and another shot to help her immune system).  After the bandaging was done, I reminded them I still needed to pay for some other medication they gave me previously, but they waived it. 

It was around that point, almost an hour after I arrived, that I started to feel a bit dizzy.  This has happened to me in sterile environments like doctor’s offices and hospitals.  I’m not sure, but I think it’s usually a combination of the smells and the overabundance of flourescent lights and white furniture/walls.  While they ran the card, I took a seat and waited for the dizziness to pass.  It was actually getting worse than a normal head rush or fleeting dizzy spell.  When they brought my card back, I stood to put it in my wallet.  I was a bit too shy to just admit I wasn’t feeling well and sit and wait for it to pass, and thought I could just power through.

The next thing I remember was waking up from a dream to look up from the floor at the 2 doctors.  I had apparently passed out, and hit my head on the table on the way down.  Strangely my neck and back of my head didn’t hurt at all, but my temple was throbbing and I was still very disoriented. 

They cleaned me up, and after a few minutes had me move to the couch.  They also called for an ambulance for me.  It took probably 20 minutes or so, maybe more, for them to arrive.  They looked me over, took my information and walked me to the ambulance. They didn’t seem concerned, and I’m guessing that their initial tests told them there was nothing serious wrong, and that I’d just need a few stitches.

Wait?  Stitches!?  Never had those before!  Those were my thoughts as I staggered to the ambulance.  The night air helped clear my head, though the ambulance ride had started to make me nauseous.  Once we got to the hospital it was very simple.  The doctor stitched me up, and I did my best to answer his questions with my limited Polish.  Then they took a head x-ray and sent me on my way! 

My friend, Dale, came and picked me up, and on our way home we swung by to get the dog.  Later, when I was telling Jess about it, I commented on how it was funny the way things always seem to work out for me, and reaffirmed that I must have a friend upstairs looking out for me.  Of course she looked at me cross-eyed, so I had to explain. 

Since I had just gotten my hair cut, it was easy to see that there were no cuts hiding under my hair.  The lawn was mowed, so I didn’t have to worry about that.  Getting a ride with Dale meant that I didn’t have to carry the dog home.  When I hit my head, I only got a small gash in my eyebrow.  So I was lucky enough not to hit my eye, or my temple (at least, not directly…  that part of my head was pretty sore).  Plus the cut is hardly visible, since it blends with my eyebrow.  I had no concussion or anything like that.  It happened in a medical facility, so they were able to clean the cut with antiseptic and gauze, plus take care of me.  Also, their English is pretty good, which was helpful.

I also got a lot of medical firsts out of the way all in one, relatively painless, shot; stitches, ambulance, hospital, foreign hospital.  Plus I got to practice my Polish a bit.

I don’t know… call me optimistic, but the whole thing was actually a pretty positive experience overall.  You know, aside from the pain and all. 

I realize that I haven’t been keeping up very well with this blog lately, so I’m going to play a little catch-up by writing about last week’s Triathlon.  I still probably won’t be writing regularly (I’ve got too many distractions at the moment), but I’ll eventually get around to posting the big stuff.  I’m also trying to work on some more poetry, so hopefully I’ll have something worthwhile to share from that crop.

May 1st is Labor Day here in Poland and the school was closed that day, so a few of the teachers decided to organize a triathlon.  I’m glad they did it!  It was fun and challenging, and the first time I’d ever done anything like that.

We started bright and early at the school pool.  We had enough people for 2 heats, but somehow I ended up with my own lane.  I hadn’t put much training into swimming, so it was by far my weakest event.  Up until then, I was swimming only twice per week, and then only practicing the breast stroke.  The first day I did a full 500 meters without stopping was, of course, the day before the triathlon.  But I managed to putter along at a decent pace, and was out of the water after about 12-13 minutes.  I was told a swim cap and a "snugger" swimsuit would help (I was wearing my big baggy surfer-style swimshorts).  But I didn’t want to change anything that close to the event.

After that, I took the longest in transition to the bike.  I think this is in part because I planned to slough my stuff around with me, so I packaged it very neatly into my bike bag, which I ended up leaving for the voluneers to bring along.  I also got a bit stuck putting on my bike shirt (it was bunched under my armpits – I imagine it would have been very humorous to watch me dancing around the locker room)

Knowing I am a slow swimmer, and that I was behind, I shot off the mark on my bike.  My newly purchased bike computer showed me my speed, and I was quickly up to 20km/h.  But I hit a snag at the back entrance when I realized I wasn’t sure which direction to go from there to get to the trail.  Luckily the security guard there pointed me in the right direction.  After I passed through the sand, I was able to get back in my rythm and was able to get myself up to around 30km/h (according to the computer – may be configured wrong).

Not long after that, I came to the only street crossing on the trail.  Now, a sequence of events was about to domino into sending me down the wrong path…  So I’ll start with the background.  Before leaving the school, I mentally ran through the course.  It was pretty much identical to how I get to and from the school on a regular basis.  I usually cross the road at the crosswalk, and was visualizing myself hitting the button, waiting, and crossing there.  However, when I arrived at the intersection, one of the volunteers was there to monitor traffic and help us cross quickly.  When he waved me across, my brain malfunctioned and figured for some reason that he was waving me along the course, which I had wrong.  So I shot across the street and kept going when I should have turned.  Part of the reason I thought this was part of the course, was that I had ridden it the week before.  At the end of the road, I realized I’d gone the wrong way, but rather than turn around, I knew the trail reconnected to the main trail farther up, and I figured it would save me time to keep going, rather than turn around.  What I didn’t figure on, was that the trail angled away, and that the trail was rough dirt and sand, whereas the trail I was supposed to be on was paved.  So I ended up taking much longer both in time and distance, and when I finally reconnected, I was a bit disheartened.

My speed dropped down around18-20km/h as I watched everyone pass by me.  I was really mad at myself, and bummed.  Not so much because I got slowed down, as that my time didn’t apply to the course, so I won’t really know how good I did.  But shortly after I rounded the halfway point, I firmed up and took control again.  I thought about my taekwondo training and our emphasis on indomitable spirit.  I’d let myself slip, but just knowing that re-lit my fire.

So I pounded out the last stretch and rolled into the last leg – the running.  One of the other triathletes, Larry, was finishing his run as I biked in, so there was a bit of confusion as to where I should go.  But I got in and off the bike no problem.  Then it was time to run.  I was all ready to go, so I just had to hop off and get moving, but my legs had another plan.  They were stiff and I felt like the tin-man before he got oiled!  After a few steps, though, I started to loosen up, and about half-way it actually felt really nice.  The problem came shortly after, when the combination of allergies and cold air made it tough to breathe, so I got a bad stitch in my side.  I didn’t want to walk, but I eventually gave in and walked, stretching and breathing.  I tried to run again after a bit, but it came right back.  I kept walking, but was cringing at each breath.  After a while of deep breathing, I was feeling good again, and finished the course at a good jog.

The feeling at the finish line was awesome.  Getting cheared on and finishing something so challenging was a great feeling.  And the barbecue afterwards was a good feeling too!  The next few days I expected to be really sore, but surprisingly wasn’t.  In fact, I felt like doing it again!  That’s a testament to the training I’d been doing, and next year I plan to be even more prepared and really reduce my time.  Mostly by going the right direction, but also from training, too.

The other night was my first Polish New Year, and it was quite an experience. 

We weren’t out in the midst of the action, but we easily got the idea.  We were at a friends house, watching a movie.  At midnight we looked outside and watched as many of the people in the city were setting off fireworks that Jess had seen people selling along side of the street.

We commented that we could imagine this was a similar sound to the many wars that have been fought in Warsaw.  It was impressive and intimidating all at the same time.  I could imagine it would be an amazing sight from a tall building, or an airplane.

It’s only morning, and I feel like I’ve already had a full day.  Mostly because I don’t count sitting on the couch coding websites as much of a day.

Also because of all the stuff I did this morning.  I’ll start from the beginning.

I got up pretty early today: 6am.  I didn’t want to keep snoozing with the alarm, since that tends to make me more reluctant to leave the bed (mostly cause I keep slipping in and out of dreams, and I wake up just enough to realize how comfortable I am).  So I popped up after the first smack of the snooze bar.

That gave me time to have some breakfast (1/2 grapefruit and some O.J.) and kick back with an episode of Friends.  The temperature was overing around 6 or 7 degrees celsius, and I knew the snow had all melted off, so I figured I’d bike in.

I had forgotten that I heard the rain drops pinging off our window boxes.  I mention this because that is the ONLY way to tell if it’s raining outside from our apartment…  I miss being able to hear the raindrops on the roof…  that’s one of my all time favorite things!!  Anyways.  Missing this information, I decided to bike in.

I like biking in because I get to do a language lesson.  And if I bike alone, I do two.  I’ve been doing a Polish lesson on the way in, and Italian on the way back…  although, I’m on my last Polish lesson.  Something that makes me happy and sad at the same time.  But I’m still way behind on Rosetta Stone, so that with some free podcasts should help…  I’m thinking of finding some Polish news report and just listening to it on the way in, seeing how much I can learn.

Anyhow, I’m minding my own business and pedaling my way to the school, talking to myself in Polish about how I bought wine yesterday, when I had my very own movie moment.  Unfortunately it wasn’t the good kind.  You know in the movies when the character who has everything go wrong is waiting at the corner and WOOSH – they get drenched as the big city bus plows through a puddle?  Well, that was me.  The wave was so big, for a second I wanted a surf board! 

Needless to say, I was soaked.  Head to toe.  Luckily it mostly got the front of me, and I had some dry clothes in my backpack – but I was wearing my workout clothes.  But I didn’t break stride.  Said some unpleasant things, sure, but kept going.  I pretty much had to.  I was half way to the school, soaking wet in the cold.  But for some reason, it really didn’t bother me.

Maybe it was all of the reading I’ve been doing – stuff about WWII and the holocaust.  Or maybe it was because of some of the philosophy I’ve read and tried to apply to my life.  It also could be my martial arts training kicking in.  But what I think it really was, was that I just watched Rocky IV the other day. 

It’s not so much the movie itself as it is the music and the training montages that I always liked.  The movie is good, too.  Almost Cold War propaganda, but just enough in the neutral territory to avoid losing respect. 

Anyway, a little background.  When I was younger I listened to that soundtrack over and over and over again.  I listened to it while I worked out, while I did homework, even when I was playing.  It was my inspiration, and drove me to always work harder.  Songs like "No Easy Way Out" were especially motivating.  Luckily, they’re also on my ipod. 

So once I got to school, and draped my wet clothing over the heaters, I had some time to kill.  I was already in my workout clothes, and they were just going to get sweaty anyways.  So I figured why not?  I’m already wet.  Besides… There’s no easy way out; no shortcut home. Oh yeah – another good line from "Eye of the Tiger" is "Though his body says stop, his spirit cries: NEVER". 

So yeah, I had a pretty good workout.  And not only were my wet clothes dry, but they were also TOASTY!  Almost makes it worth getting splashed (almost).

Anyways, the ride home was slightly less wet.  By that point it had started raining.  But compared to the pond I got hit by earlier, it was nothing.

I got back to our place, one Italian lesson smarter, and headed for the garage.  I haven’t stored my bike there yet (been keeping it on our back patio), and thought, since it was soaking wet and covered with mud, that it might be a good time to start.  I tried the button, but it didn’t work.  I was afraid it might have gotten too wet from my morning swim.  Then I realized I was at the wrong door.  So I found our space with our landlord’s Volkswagen van and started chaining my tire to the bike frame (best I can do).

While I was doing this, one of the older security guards came over and said something about my bicycle and the garage…  Those being the ONLY two words I cought.  I told him I only understood a little, and he kept going.  I apologized again, not understanding, and finished chaining my bike up.  He mimed the lock and I smiled with understanding.  Of course I responded with "Si", having just done about 30 minutes of Italian…  I corrected myself with a headshake and a "Tak".  He pointed further in the garage and said something else about the garage and over there.  I felt really bad because I knew he was trying to help.  I also got that he was saying my locking of the tire to the bike was pretty pointless (which is true).  After he gave up and I went to leave, I realized I didn’t know where the door was!  So I tried one – locked…  Another had a sign on it saying it was the exit, and I thought that was it, but I also saw that it was an emergency exit, so like a fool, I walked right past it.  The guard was still there, so he pointed it out using a word I didn’t know…  For all I’ve learned, I know the word for "There" "Here" "That one" "Door" and about a billion other ways he could have pointed it out…  but he picks the one I don’t know (of course).  Which makes me want to learn the language so much faster, but there’s only so much I can do. 

So, sheepishly, I went up, took a warm shower, threw in a load of wash, poured myself a bowl of cereal, then shared this experience with you.  Now I’ve got to put in my 8 hours of sitting (breaking it up – now that I’ve learned my lesson about that).  There’s a play at the school I’m trying to figure out if I should go to or not.  If I work 8 hours straight, I’m done at 6pm.  It gets dark in the apartment at 2:30 (due to the building layout), though sunset is around 3:30/4.  The play is at 5, so I have to leave here at 4 if I want to catch it, and make up the hours afterwords (aka – 8pm on a Friday).  So I’m leaning towards no play, unfortunately.  But we’ll see. 

Things have a way of turning out contrary to your plans.

What do these two have to do with each other?

Absolutely nothing.  Except that I am doing both for the first time in Poland today.

I had one student come for the first Tae Kwon Do lesson this morning.  His dad was sick, but plans on coming next week.  It was pretty fun.  I don’t have much experience teaching younger kids, so this is both a challenge and learning experience for me.

All in all, I think it went pretty well.  He was shy at first, but opened right up and was showing me moves he knew by the end of the class.  

I have a feeling that it will be a bit tougher to keep order once there are a few more kids and they get more comfortable.  Its a pretty informal class, but we only have about 30-45 minutes each morning, so I have to make sure we don’t get too far off track.

As for the Dolmathes…  I’ve seen some in the grocery stores here, and last weekend decided to buy some.   I’m TOTALLY eating them for lunch today.  And guess what time it is RIGHT NOW!?  But I have to make sure I keep some for Jess to try, too, so I can’t eat them all.

 
Pow.

Rather than taking another trip to Kraków, as we had first talked about, Jess and I decided to stay in Warszawa for the first weekend of her vacation.  We did this so that we’d have time to rest and recouperate, as well as to see some of the things we hadn’t seen yet that were right here in town.

We started by taking a trip out to ?azienki Park.  Previously we had only explored just inside the gate, where we were for a concert at the end of the summertime, and there was a lot more to see!

People everywhere were feeding the animals – Birds and squirrels – and because of this, they were very friendly.  We managed to snap a shot of a squirrel that climbed up on Jess looking for food! Unfortunately, we didn’t have anything to share with him.

Beyond the friendliness of the animals, we were also surprised by the types of animals we saw.  The squirrels were like nothing I’ve seen before back home, with their long pointed fuzzy ears and bright red color.  They looked more like a grey squirrel with red squirrel coloring and rabbit ears!  In addition to the sqrabbits, there were peacocks everywhere!  This was the first time I’ve ever encountered a peacock outside of a zoo, and it was strange.

The park itself is very beautiful.  It is fairly wooded with numerous paths and ponds.  We happened to visit on a perfectly autumn day that was cool enough to enjoy wearing a jacket, but not so cold that you went numb.  And the leaves had all changed and drifted down around us like snowflakes, while we crunched along.  I took the opportunity to try out some of the features of our new camera.

In addition to a refreshing encounter with nature, the park also houses some old palace structures.  I believe some of them used to be the summer home of one of the later Polish Kings, but I couldn’t tell you which ones.  There was also a Greek ampitheater built in the 1700s which sat out in the water, while the audience watched from the shore.

It was very relaxing, and I can see why many residents go there regularly on the weekends.

The Wilanów Palace (also known as the Versailles of Poland) was built in the 1600s for King John III Sobieski

This palace sits a few hundred meters back from the main roads, and only maybe a couple hundred more from the roads to our apartment.  And after living virtually next door, we finally decided to pay a visit to the palace.

The Palace is an enormous structure, surrounded by beautiful gardens and parks.  It survived the destruction of World War II and the Warsaw Uprising, due to it’s location farther to the outskirts of the city.  Though it was heavily damaged and is still being restored, much of the original structure and artwork remains intact.  The palace now serves as a museum of national art and pride.

Unfortunately, photographs were not allowed inside the palace.  But even if we could have, we would not have had room on our camera for everything.  Nearly every wall and ceiling is painted with elaborate frescoes and carvings.  There were displays of weapons and armor, collected by John III, as well as magnificient portraits of all of the previous owners and their families.

After King John III and his sons, the palace ownership passed to powerful Polish families.  Many of the 19th century palace owners are buried in the Potacki Mausoleum in the park outside of the palace, next to St. Anne’s Church.

We spent a few hours roaming the park and palace exterior, and about an equal amount of time inside, looking at the artifacts of Polish history that are kept there. 

By the end of the day, our brains were full and our feet were tired, so we plan on returning another time.

An added bonus on this trip was the art exhibition that was on display in the palace’s old kitchen. 

The palace often plays hosts to concerts and art/historical exhibits, and serves as a Museum.  We hope to return for more events in the future!

More Information:

• Wikipedia
• Museum Palace at Wilanow

On Saturday, Jess and I decided to head up to downtown Warsaw and check out the Warsaw Film Festival.  We weren’t sure what to watch, and had looked through a few of the descriptions of the movies playing in the "English Only" theaters.  As we were about to leave, we noticed a few other friends of ours were planning on seeing Autism: The Musical (www.autismthemusical.com).  We hadn’t seen this one, and it interested us, so our decision was made.

We were a bit early, so we bought our tickets, then got some Tiger Chai Latte’s from Coffee Heaven (good stuff).

The Warsaw Film Festival is a large, international event with filmmakers from various countries around the world showcasing their work.  Autism: The Musical was the only movie we ended up watching, though I’m sure there were many other good films there!  It was produced in the U.S., so we didn’t see anything very international, but it was VERY good.

The movie is about a woman, Elaine, who adopted her son, Neal, from Russia.  Over the years, it became apparent that he was not developing as was expected.  She discovered that he was autistic.  Some of the things she said people told her, like "Send him back to Russia" were heartbreaking.  But Elaine has more of a heart than that, and set out to defy society’s preconceptions and hopefully open people’s eyes.

I can say that she opened mine a bit farther.

Not that I’m close minded, but there’s always room to grow, and always things you didn’t know.

Without giving too much away, the movie follows a group of autistic children as they participate in Elaine’s "Miracle Project".  The Miracle Project is essentially a play that the children help write and then perform.  The movie follows their preparation, covering their successes, failures, and struggles.  They also spend a good amount of time on most of the children’s backgrounds.

The underlying theme is that autistic children are not lost cases.  They can accomplish as much as anyone, but they’re not the same as most people.  So rather than to simply not try because it’s too hard, or too strange, these families joined together to prove the world wrong.  They fight the world and themselves every step of the way to overcome what they see as more of a language barrier than a disability.

In the short duration of the movie you really come to know and adore all of the children for who they are, and their own personal quirks…  Lexi who mostly repeats what’s said to her, the over-articulate Wyatt, Henry and his Dinosaur obsession, Adam and his cello (and the girl he likes!) and the Silent Neal, who seems to have ultra sensitive hearing, reminds his mother, and in a way the viewers, to be a better listener.

The movie tugs at your heart, and brings on a few tears and a few more giggles.  It is a sobering experience, sharing both the playful times and the challenges that these families face every day. It reminds us that our most difficult struggles bear the greatest rewards.  Or as Khalil Gibran wrote in The Prophet: "The deeper that sorrow carves into your being the more joy you can contain."