“Proszę?” “Six small rolls, one chleb, one angielka.” “6,450 złotych, please.” “Thank you.” “You are welcome. Please?” “One chleb.” “2,400 złotych. Do you have four hundred złotych?” “Dziękuję.” “You are welcome. Please?” “Two angielka…”
Could you feel in Krakow in 1989 same as in Paris in 1958? Read the sixth chapter of the book by David R. Pichaske and enjoy this extraordinary journey to Poland between 1989 and 1991.
The birds sing in the branches of these trees, and the bells of the Catholic Church sing to the living. The earth rises to reclaim her own, and the grass, the grass, the grass—it covers everything. The fifth chapter of the book by David R. Pichaske.
“Professional peddlers piled up a good amount of money, and more is being made as prices rise even higher and a system of wholesaling develops. That this new wealth is not effectively taxed is the government’s fault, not the peddlers.” Read the fourth chapter of the book by David R. Pichaske.
It is not fair to love a country because it appears to be backward—although I could name half a dozen towns in Western nations that make handsome currency off their refusal to enter the twentieth century. I treasure in Poland an Old which is hard to come by in the West.
The second chapter of the book by David R. Pichaske: “The long, low light of late afternoon washes the scene in the warmth peculiar to that time of day, and for a second I think I’ve wandered into some nineteenth century landscape… or one of those village scenes, painted just last year in the style of the Old Masters, sold in Łódź art galleries for $20.”
The closer I looked, the more I saw… and the less—not the more—I thought I understood. Another two years in Poland and I would have been as unable to interpret Poland as I am able to explain America.