Bezrobotny

So, I’ve been here, in Krakow, for two weeks, and with the exception of two hours’ teaching over Skype per week, I am still unemployed. Most of that, I’m told, has to do with the scheduling of the University, which started in earnest yesterday, meaning the private schools won’t get their stuff together until next week, at the earliest. The net effect of this, besides a dwindling supply of zloty for yours truly, is a lot of time to sit in the Kawarnia, drinking coffee that should stop pretending it’s not espresso, and contemplate Poland. And maybe, you know, learn some Polish.

John Cleese – John Cleese, as in “This Parrot is No More” John Cleese, endorses a major Polish bank. I don’t have a problem with it really, but it’s quite strange to walk down the street and see his face, larger than life in the plate windows of a bank on the Karmelicka. Apparently he does TV commercials, too, but I haven’t seen any of those. I would imagine they are somewhat humorous.

Paradox – A few years ago, there was a spate of articles about what had come to be know as “The French Paradox,” being, of course, the fact that French people are thinner and happier, despite their butter-enriched everything. I think the name may have been misapplied. Since I’ve arrived, I’ve been fed not only mushrooms, breaded and pan-fried (not sautéed, FRIED) in a stick of butter, but a slice of country bread, thickly spread with…lard. As in, the rendered fat of pigs. I can’t say it’s the tastiest thing I’ve ever eaten—VERY salty, a little bit grainy, and mostly just coating the mouth with a greasy feeling, and make you CRAVE something acidic, like coffee. Or vodka. The mushrooms, on the other hand, now those were something.

Style—The strangest thing about Krakow, I think in particular, is the stark difference in style amongst the inhabitants. The average age of the city is quite young, because of the universities, and so there’s a lot of young, stylish, attractive people walking around. The difference between men and women, though, is huge. About 25% of the men are what one might consider “well-dressed,” meaning non-sneaker shoes, tailored trousers, collars on shirts, and, invariably, a scarf of some sort. The same goes for virtually every woman I’ve seen. Sweaters, shirts, even being casual, there’s a great awareness of one’s public image here. The remaining men, though, are inveterate, well, slobs. Anoraks, hoodies, baggy jeans and skater shoes. Or soccer jerseys and consumer-grade soccer shoes. In that way, as well all the others, it feels like Ireland in a foreign language. As to a reason why…I’m afraid I’m at a loss. But, I’m sure I’ll found out, sooner or later.