Visiting Poland: Day 2

We've got some catching up to do!

Okay, so I have to leave the Ukraine every 90 days to renew my registration there. The cheapest trip I could find recently was a WizzAir flight to Poland, so here I am! I booked a 2-night stay at this cute little hostel called "Mosquito Hostel," and am now typing my blog from the common-room's computer. :)

Yesterday was great. I woke up feeling a little better (had a nasty fever the night before), and somehow packed in time to hop into my ride's car. Denis, one of the brothers from my Bible Talk, was nice enough to pick me up at 7:30 in the morning to drive me to the airport.

On the bus transfer from the airport in Katowice to the city of Krakow, I met a nice lady named Julian, who is also a missionary in Kiev with her husband and 3 children. She let me know of a way to get a longer religious Visa from Krakow the next time I get one for the Ukraine, so I don't have to leave every 3 months. Hmm...promising.

Anyway, I met some nice people touring the Salt Mines of Kiev: a cute old coulpe from England, and a man my age from Ireland named Seamus. Yes, an Irishman named Seamus (pronounced Shamus). I just can't get enough of the accents in this town!

Had dinner at a cute little Polish restaurant, where I was treated like a queen by the host, and ushered into a candle-lit dinner-table for four (all for me, muah ha ha). I had a scrumptious hot meal, and soaked in the romantic, warm, atmosphere. There was a pianist playing cheery Polish folk melodies from the other room, the waitress was helpful and friendly, and some other customers dining came by to chat about how unique my food was (fried perogi on a hard, flat, pizza-looking bread plate).

How good it is to joke with strangers, as if we all hadn't a care in the world! The trust...the openness...the acceptance. Ahhh...I had no idea how much I've missed this.

In contrast, Kiev looks...well...starkly opposite. I have already noticed myself smiling less to strangers in Kiev, afraid to attract the wrong attention in the city. Maybe it's smarter not to stand out, but I miss being myself, expressing myself without worrying about what others will do or what the consequences will be.

Is this how my ancestors felt after Hitler came to power and their home began to change from cheerful freedom to frightening opression?

In a few hours, I will visit Auschwitz with another American I met at the restaurant I ate at last night. I have a feeling this will be a very sobering tour...

I will post my thoughts in the next blog, along with some pictures of my recent adventures. :) Check back in a few days!