This weekend, Emila invited Zehra and I to her home in Kalinowa, a small village near Turek. Her second youngest sister was celebrating her 18th birthday (Osiemnastka--the passage between youth and adulthood) which is a very special occasion. Both Zehra and I were very excited to receive an invitation to such an important event--it's not often that one gets to attend a real Polish party with all Polish people. We left Wrocław at 3:00pm and took a Polebus (which may be my new least favorite form of transportation) to Turek.
Emila's house:
And the garden in the back:
Emila picked us up at the bus station, and then took us to meet her family (She has two older, married sisters, an 18 year old sister, and then there's a set of 17 year old twins--a boy and a girl). She introduced us to her siblings, brothers-in-law, grandmother, and her parents. We attempted to talk with them in what little Polish we know, though her sibling did speak English with us.
Emila picked us up at the bus station, and then took us to meet her family (She has two older, married sisters, an 18 year old sister, and then there's a set of 17 year old twins--a boy and a girl). She introduced us to her siblings, brothers-in-law, grandmother, and her parents. We attempted to talk with them in what little Polish we know, though her sibling did speak English with us.Dinner wouldn't be ready for a little while, so Emila took us on a tour of her village...via her brother's motor scooter and bike. Emila drove the scooter with Zehra, and I got to chase them.... 
She took us to several ponds by her house.
Of course, in the process of taking us to all these places via dirt road, the scooter slid on some mud and resulted in a small crash. Zehra was fine, but Emila squashed her foot between the ground and the scooter. 
After that, I got to drive the scooter, and I did very well, which is proof that my daddy needs to teach me to drive his motorcycle when I return to the US.
She took us to several ponds by her house.Of course, in the process of taking us to all these places via dirt road, the scooter slid on some mud and resulted in a small crash. Zehra was fine, but Emila squashed her foot between the ground and the scooter. After that, I got to drive the scooter, and I did very well, which is proof that my daddy needs to teach me to drive his motorcycle when I return to the US. Zehra, all safe and sound after my wonderful driving.
We also had issues with getting the scotter to start. That was the point where Emila was muttering, "Kurwa, kurwa, kurwa." 
Saturday, Emila went to the doctor and was told to stay off her foot. Since she wasn't really mobile, we stayed around her house. Emila insisted that we try her grandmother's massage chair.
Later, we got dressed up and went to the party. We met all of Emila's relatives, and there was an abundance of food.
If you think there's a ridiculious amount of food at an American Thanksgiving, then you've never been to a Polish birthday party. There was chicken, pork, salad, potatos, and cake...just for dinner. And then they brought ice cream, and pork things again, and pizza. Then came the birthday cake and champange. Later there was soup. Finally, there was chicken wings and french fries. I have never felt more like a stuffed turkey.
In between all the food, there was dancing. No polkas though...but we did do the chicken dance.
We also had issues with getting the scotter to start. That was the point where Emila was muttering, "Kurwa, kurwa, kurwa." Saturday, Emila went to the doctor and was told to stay off her foot. Since she wasn't really mobile, we stayed around her house. Emila insisted that we try her grandmother's massage chair.Later, we got dressed up and went to the party. We met all of Emila's relatives, and there was an abundance of food.If you think there's a ridiculious amount of food at an American Thanksgiving, then you've never been to a Polish birthday party. There was chicken, pork, salad, potatos, and cake...just for dinner. And then they brought ice cream, and pork things again, and pizza. Then came the birthday cake and champange. Later there was soup. Finally, there was chicken wings and french fries. I have never felt more like a stuffed turkey.In between all the food, there was dancing. No polkas though...but we did do the chicken dance.This is Emila's brother dancing with their grandmother:
Three secondary school boys and Emila's uncle made sure that both Zehra and I danced at least once an hour. They all were really good dancers...and maybe a little drunk. It was very fun to try and dance like the Polish teenagers.
It was a wonderful weekend with my flatmates--something that I will always remember.
Now, we're all back in Ołowek. Emila's foot is fine and Zehra and I are attempting (along with many of the other international students) to prepare for our Polish final exam. It's not as much fun as Osiemnastka.
1 comment:
Why does the idea of you on a scooter (or your daddy's motorbike) scare me?
And did I really just say "motorbike?" Hmmm. I blame you and your foreign blogging.
Post a Comment