Living in another country has its fair share of advantages and disadvantages. Sometimes it feels like a magical dream surrounded in a misty haze where everything seems to intrigue and fascinate the senses as the adventure continues with each step. On the other hand, on those grey miserable and wet days, the thought of lifting off the covers, and exposing my skin to the biting cold as I nervously place one foot on the cold uncovered wooden floor and make my way to the bathroom fills me with fear and dread as my finger presses the snooze button for the last possible time resulting in another five short and delicate precious minutes in bliss.
Nobody expected me to end up here and there was no great master plan which stated in large bold letters that ‘I WILL LIVE IN POLAND’. Like most things, it just happened and is the only answer I can give each time I am asked. I often feel that this answer doesn’t quite satisfy the curious, a lot of whom have friends or colleagues in my country, who are planning to go there or indeed have been there themselves. Some people frown in puzzlement and look at me as if I am missing something vital to a logical functioning brain and never seem to accept that I am not working for the tourist board in Krakow. Others accept my answer more easily and get down to the task of comparing and contrasting everything from the best way to prepare tea to the prices of renting a flat. I am well prepared for the latter type of people with detailed answers that have been fine-tuned to perfection but the former group is always a challenge which requires an enormous amount of energy and determination.
There are many differences between this country and the one I come from and certainly most of them are have taken time to discover and analyze in microscopic detail. One of the first ones is the obsession with change in Polish retail. This constant asking for the exact change and the vicious looks I receive whenever I timidly hand over a hundred zloty note in return for my purchases ensured that ‘drobny’ was one of the first words etched into my Polish vocabulary tablet. Queuing can be a testing business at times and especially on those days when you are lacking patience or a good mood. A short dip in concentration can rapidly be taken advantage of in lightning quick style by a conniving and well-practiced individual. In Poland the strong emphasis on the family is clear on those numerous occasions which draw willing or perhaps unwilling family members together to partake in various forms of celebration and ritual. I have witnessed many such so-called ‘long weekends’, the longest of which defied reason and continued for one whole week, which have sometimes left me feeling quite homesick especially when students gasp when I tell them that I will not be going home to visit my family on each of these occasions. These moments of homesickness are quite rare though and that is why I am still here. Will I go to another country and grapple again with more new customs and nationality traits? The answer to that is unknown but as long as Krakow continues to interest to entertain and sometimes to completely confuse me, I will be here.
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