Wedding

The main reason for my trip to Poland was to see the wedding of two good friends, Krzysiek and Dorota. I think that I met them both in 2008, but not on any intimate level. I consider that I became friends with Krzysiek in 2009. I got closer with Dorota in 2011 when we were partners on the winning team at a game night, and then we had a good opportunity to know each other better over tea. They both have extremely good English. In particular it's crazy how good Krzysiek is with idioms. Can you imagine what it's like to hear a Pole say, "I don't want to be a wet blanket"? Just guess how much I laughed.

As you may have gathered from previous posting, Krzysiek and Dorota are both kind, generous people. I was very honored to be invited to their wedding, which carries the additional blessing of creating this whole vacation for me. Przemek was my guest to the wedding. There's no one better I could have chosen… In fact I was quite relieved that he agreed to go with me. Not only is he one of my closest friends here in Poland, but he also has excellent English, and I assigned him the job of translating everything for me, which he did with prowess.

Inside the church, during the ceremony.

A nice family let us ride with them to the town outside of Warsaw, where the wedding was located. They had a little girl of 15 months, Anielka, who pretended lose her thumb in her sweater. We arrived a few minutes late, so I still don't know what the start of a Polish wedding looks like. We stood in the back so as not to disturb, and there was a babby boy who tried to play with me through a glass door. Eventually he got brave enough to reach around and hold my fingers, and then he tried to get my hair, which was extremely curly, if not very formal. I'd probably better have my own child pretty dang soon.

The little one.

It's rare to see someone as happy as Krzysiek looked after the ceremony. Dorota looked perfect, herself. We caravanned to the reception hall, car horns sounding crazily. The first thing the newlyweds did before anyone entered the hall was to break a loaf of bread in half, and each one took a piece from the other's. Then they each offered a piece to every guest. Przemek told me to take large pieces, since it was doubtful that there would be many vegetarian options at the meal. But there were devilled eggs, and  ice cream, so I was good.

Bread

I always eat the mint leaf

They tell me that traditional Polish weddings are flowing with rivers of alcohol. In fact, when I have told people that this one had no alcohol, I get the same look of surprise from each and every one. I actually liked that there was none. The only negative consequence is that I did not dance very much. I wonder if I would have danced at all if Krzysiek had not forcefully encouraged me to do so. There was a master of ceremonies who taught and called out dances, and those group dances were really great fun. Dorota said she really enjoyed watching me do this traditional Krakowian dance towards the end; I really enjoyed it because it was like the two-step, which is like flying. I also enjoy being whisked, which I was several times during the evening. Despite questionable talents of some dance partners, I was the worst at waltzing, which is too bad, because I used to be quite satisfactory. Now I want to take ballroom dance classes again.

Dorota's nephew, Paweł, attacking.

Krzysiek in the top hat.

Przemek in the dark shirt.

Around midnight, some traditional activities occurred. They were lifted to the ceiling on chairs; I think that's when we sang Sto Lat. Next, Krzysiek removed Dorota's veil, and she removed his necktie. They threw them instead of bouquet and garter. In this instance, all the women tried to get away from the veil that was thrown, because it meant you had to dance in front of everyone. Later, women circled K and men circled D, taking turns dancing with each, giving advice on how to stay married for 50 years. It seems you didn't have to be married to give advice, so I took the opportunity. "Every morning, picture her with a crown on her head, and treat her like a queen for the rest of the day." I have no idea where that came from… Krzysiek asked me if that is what I expect. Expect is too strong a word… Hope may be, as well… But it would be nice. For some days, anyway. Eligible men, take note.

This is the MC. He looked just like John Michael Higgins to me. He changed hats frequently.

More dancing followed. Krzysiek busted some pretty good moves; I didn't know he had it in him. His best man did a good moonwalk, and the party encouraged him to continue with the MJ homage, which he did with pleasure. It also turns out that Poles are pretty good at the Twist.

Unfortunately, I waited til rather later in the evening — after all the aforementioned whisking — to take pictures with people, so they're not very flattering. Additionally, there were issues with a lot of my photos due to low lighting and my aversion to flash, so some of them may look strange. The dark-haired lady in the photo with me is another Magda, who was chosen to be my seat mate due to her English skills. I appreciated that consideration, and she was very nice to talk to.

With Krzysiek.

Dorota, me, Krzysiek.

Dorota, me, and twin Agata. We didn't pose them; it was a natural inclination.

With Przemek.

With my seatmate, Magda.

My lack of Polish gave me a good excuse to not know what was going on in the dances. I gave many a "przepraszam," and a few explanations in English, as well. One man kept appearing to fill me in on what the dance moves are. I was never introduced to him; he was like a guardian angel appearing out of nowhere. A young man, once he found I spoke English, asked me to dance with him. I assume he wanted to practice his English as well. It doesn't offend me at all; rather I enjoy talking to new people (imagine! me!) and we were both bad dancers so there was no pressure. From the older men and women who did not speak English, I received many kindly and encouraging smiles, and as much non-verbal instruction as they could manage.

I was a bit of a celebrity, being a native English-speaker — American, no less — in a small town in Poland. One man had heard some "English with good accent" being spoken, so asked around to find who it was. His name was Konrad, and we ended up talking quite a lot. He had a lot of questions about America, but also knew a lot about certain aspects, so we had a nice conversation that did not feel like an interview.

As Dorota had kindly arranged for us to stay with her mother after the ceremony, we stayed until the end. This one ended rather early for a Polish wedding. [UPDATE: Przemek had a problem with me saying that. I wasn't being entirely accurate. So the party will end in the morning, but celebrations can carry on for days. So shut up, Przemek.] We left the hall right at 5am. The sky was light, and I was a shuffling zombie. We napped for a few hours, and were given a nice breakfast before we left, around 11. Again, the language and cultural barriers distilled everything into pure care and hospitality. You know, I hope I will never take kindness for granted. I hope for more of it in my life, but feeling overwhelmed by small acts of goodness feels like such a gift. That's what this whole trip has been, so far: a gift. I am so taken care of and loved and wanted. I don't even feel presumptuous saying that; that's how true I know it is.

Leaving the hall at 5am.

Dorota's mother's house, where we slept.