Substitution, Reading Labels, and Depressing Air Quality Maps

I lead a privileged life. I have bronchitis, and the doctor told me to stay home for the week. Okay. If I was at university, I would have arrived home from the doctor, frantically e-mailed all my professors to reschedule exams and paper due dates, canceled dozens of scheduled tutoring sessions and work meetings, and proceeded to try to get better with a tiny voice in my head saying “with-every-day-you-lie-here-the-further-behind-you-get.” Not a relaxing or healthy way to recuperate. I’d also experience this voice if I currently worked a traditional American 9-5 job, where people have very few sick days and therefore spend a good percentage of the time they are sick at the office instead of home in bed.

At the beginning of the school year, I cursed our school’s “internal substitution policy.” Now, lying sick in bed, I love it (oh, the irony)! When a teacher is ill or on a field trip, the school assigns a teacher to cover his or her classes. The stars were not aligned in my favor in the 1^st semester and I substituted a lot – a lot, a lot. I’ve discussed substitution before and have said that it’s stressful because you’re given no lesson plan and you’re typically given very, very little advanced notice (sometimes more than 1 hour advanced notice is rare). You also typically watch lots of students at once (approximately 20-35), and I’m very happy (yes, spoiled) with my classes of only 10-18 students, thank-you-very-much. Now I’m a “fantastic substitute” and barely bat an eye with they throw 35 sugar-high children at me, but it was a difficult adjustment at the beginning.

Now that I’m sick, I’ve discovered why the substitution system is brilliant. First, I don’t have to create lesson plans for the substitute teachers – they’re responsible for designing a lesson (or monitoring my class as a study hall, for example). Therefore, there’s less stress for the ill teacher – brilliant! Second, I know that I’ve substituted for the majority of teachers who are substituting for me this week at least (at least!) a dozen times, so I’m not wracked with guilt about missing school (okay, a little bit of guilt, I dislike burdening them with my classes, but now I appreciate the “I’ll scratch your back and then you’ll scratch mine” substitute system at my school). Also, because I design my own English conversation curriculum, all I have to do to prepare for school next week is decide what lesson I’ll cut this semester. Very, very difficult. :) Recuperating without lots of anxiety is a wonderfully unusual experience.

When I called the school and asked for help finding a doctor to listen to my lungs, I wasn’t surprised that they sent me to a student’s father’s practice (Colleen had also visited this doctor in the fall). (When I told my students the Friday after Thanksgiving that I’d eaten chicken to celebrate because we couldn’t locate any turkey, they asked me why I hadn’t talked to Student X because his father is a butcher and could have located a turkey for me. We’re a very self-sufficient little school community.) On Tuesday, the doctor’s son (Colleen’s English conversation student) walked me to his dad’s practice and then to the pharmacy. I was exhausted and not breathing well, but he chattered away. I always love talking to students one-on-one, and sometimes I learn lots of fascinating bits of school news and gossip that the other teachers try to hide from me (well, they don’t hide it necessarily, but they don’t go out of their way to tell me). I don’t teach Michał, but I do teach one class of sophomores. Attempting to at least infrequently contribute to the conversation (I felt awful), I said that a lot of his classmates were sick last Friday. Without hesitation, Michał replied that they were probably skipping my class. Luckily, I know this isn’t true. The students were absent for the whole school day, not only my lesson (thank you, class attendance book).

(Quick sidebar: I’ve had only one student frequently skip my class, and the school directors called his parents and now that’s resolved. I should say that I didn’t tattle on him, but thought perhaps he was deathly ill and no one had told me. They don’t always tell me when they know a student is going to be absent for an extended period of time. If I had rebelled better in high school, I could have anticipated the “oh no, he’s skipping your class” response from miles away when I asked his homeroom teacher if he was okay because I hadn’t seen him in a while.)

I asked Michał why he thought students would skip English conversation. He told me (without hesitation – the kids here are brutally honest) that in the past, English conversation was a study hall or free period, where students were allowed to study for other classes, watch English movies, or play board games. This year, he said, Colleen and I are organized and expect our students to learn and speak English during our lessons – unfortunately, apparently, for the students (hmmm...maybe I read the job description wrong when it said “English conversation teacher”). It’s one of the best back-handed teaching compliments I’ve received.

Michał’s father, Dr. H, listened to my lungs and prescribed a couple medications. I had told Michał that I didn’t need any medications necessarily (I have medications that I brought from the U.S. for my asthma); I only wanted a doctor to listen to my lungs. Michał told me matter-of-factly that it’s a doctor’s job to prescribe medications and that we would go to the pharmacy after my appointment to pick up my prescriptions. For my appointment, I had written down a couple key phrases in Polish (bronchitis, pneumonia, congestion, asthma, sore throat, etc.) and brought my asthma medications with me to show him. Between his minimal English and my Polish phrases and Charades (coughing, touching my throat when I talked about it), we communicated okay. I had felt pretty certain in my self-diagnosis of bronchitis, but wanted to check that it wasn’t developing into, for example, pneumonia. Dr. H said I did have bronchitis (“zapalenie oskrzeli” in Polish) and my lungs were congested, but they weren’t too awful. He told me to stay home for the week and take the three medications he prescribed. When I asked him to describe what the medications were for (for example, cough – suppressant or expectorant, pain, sore throat, etc.), that’s when communication broke down and he didn’t understand me. Perhaps you don’t ask doctors here questions like “Why are you prescribing these medications?” Oh, well! A successful appointment in my opinion because someone in the medical profession listened to my lungs and said I shouldn’t worry. Yay!

After traveling to the pharmacy, I translated the medications’ packages and instructions at home (and smiled at the memory of my sisters singing “you must always read the label, you must always read it well, in the most delicious way” from Arrested Development). I decided to take one only of the three medications he prescribed. (I won’t re-hash all my logic and medical research here – except to say that he gave me one drug with 5x the amount of codeine allowed in over-the-counter cold medication in America. No thanks. I’m coughing up mucous fine on my own without your help, thank-you-very-much.) Then, exhausted, I took a 6-hour nap.

How did I get bronchitis? Well, the stars aligned against me a bit last week. My screaming-at-3 a.m.-they-punched-a-hole-in-my-wall-this-month-neighbors are renovating their apartment and this renovation somehow involves my apartment 90% of the time, except that in one month they’ll have a new bathroom and kitchen and I’ll only have their sawdust. But I’m a good neighbor and I’ve re-arranged my schedule to go home and let them into my apartment, given them full access to my kitchen and bathroom for hours, let them turn my water off several times a day without notifying me, etc. But my apartment – the size of my college dorm room (the nice senior year one with a living room and bedroom) – is a construction zone, and despite how frequently I dust, mop the floors, and vacuum, the dust is winning and crawling into my sad lungs.

It’s also cold here (no, I’m not surprised, it’s winter in Poland), and my lungs never liked cold air. I bundle up and cover my mouth for walks outside, but it’s cold (approximately 0-10 degrees F every day). My feet are my transportation here, and despite how I try to protect my lungs I spend a lot of time walking outside and breathing the air.

Speaking of Polish air. It’s polluted. Badly polluted. Very, very badly polluted.

I have two early memories of “Polish air horror” from October. First, I remember waking up one morning and staring in horror at the chimneys outside my apartment windows as I watched puffs of dark black smoke rise into the sky because people had started burning coal to heat their homes. Second, I remember walking outside one autumn morning into a “foggy fairytale,” and when I asked one of the teachers at school if it was fog or smog, she said, “smog from the chimneys”. If you walk up and down my street, you’ll notice how the beautiful once-white stone buildings are now dark and discolored from all the coal burning. My breathing difficulties with the air pollution here started in the fall, but luckily I’ve stayed rather healthy and kept my asthma under control. My school director also said there’s a Silesia health warning this month that due to unusual winter air pressure – low? high? she didn’t know – the smog from the chimneys this month isn’t rising but staying low to the ground, and causing lots of respiratory infections.

Now, in retrospect, I don’t know why the awful air quality in Cieszyn surprised me. I went to a Traveler’s Health and Immunization Center for recommended vaccinations in August before leaving for Poland. They prepared a “health information” packet for me with information about the countries I said I’d probably visit this year. Included in the 10-page Poland information packet was this two-sentence warning: “Krakow and Silesia have very high levels of air pollution. Travelers with significant pulmonary, cardiac, or asthmatic problems may be considerably impaired.” No, I do not know why I did not further research this statement and why it didn’t send up a red flag (especially the “very high levels” part). Perhaps because my asthma was under control (and I wouldn’t say I have a significant asthma problem) or because when someone says “there’s some air pollution there,” you think, “of course, there’s air pollution everywhere!” Also, when you hear you’re living in a city next to the mountains, you (or at least, I) imagine clean, mountain air. Nope.

I’m privileged to live in a home heated by hot water, not coal (a question I never fathomed asking during my interview but could have had disastrous consequences – I would have had to move or return to America). But the majority of homes and apartments here are heated by coal. Why? Because it’s cheaper. When apartment hunting, my in-their-young-20s friends said that could never afford an apartment with a heating system that isn’t coal-based because of the expenses. My friend who’s a pediatrician and very health-conscious also lives in a home heated by coal. Yikes! From what I’ve heard, the region is trying to help people transition from coal-burning stoves to other methods of home heating, but the transition requires a lot of money and effort on both the government’s part and on individual citizen’s parts. (When researching Poland’s air pollution policies, I learned that in 1991, the U.S. government forgave a percentage of Poland’s debt because Poland agreed to invest money in domestic pollution control.)

Coal here is called “Polish black gold,” and it’s also the #1 source of pollution in Poland because it contains large quantities of sulfur. Poland’s economy depends on its industrial centers, factories, power plants and mines, but these industries are also responsible for burning tons of coal that pollute the air. How do you solve the country’s pollution problem without crippling its economy?

One source of motivation for addressing Poland’s air quality - the health of its citizens. A report by the World Health Organization in the late 1990s stated that infant mortality, circulatory and respiratory disease, and cancer rates were significantly higher in Poland than other countries in Europe. The average life expectancy in southern Poland is 5 years less than the rest of the country. Earlier this year I discovered a European air quality map online and, after you zoom in on the red/magenta zone between Ostrava (Czech Republic) and Krakow (Poland) where I live, you’ll understand why it’s bookmarked on my computer as “depressing air quality map.” They weren’t kidding at the Traveler’s Health and Immunization Center (again, why would I doubt them...) about “very high levels of air pollution.” http://www.eea.europa.eu/themes/air/airbase/interpolated

According to the country’s Council for the Protection of the Natural Environment annual report in 1998, millions of tons of sulfur dioxide (from coal burning in Polish factories, power plants, and from home heating systems) are released every year into Poland’s atmosphere. In 1995, Poland ranked 7^th in the world in sulfur dioxide emissions, directly behind the United States (ranked 6^th). Again, Poland – the size of the state of New Mexico – ranked directly behind the whole United States. I can’t locate better up-to-date information about Poland’s current sulfur dioxide emissions, but people I talk to here say it’s only slowly improving. The air pollution here also contributes to the dreariness of Polish winters. The Council for the Protection of the Natural Environment annual reported that between 1921 and 1990, the average number of cloudy days per year increased from 10 to 183. I loved visiting Slovakia this month because I could see the stars at night!

Poland is trying to reduce its emissions, especially industry emissions, but a second part of the problem is that the Czech Republic and Germany, especially at Poland’s southern and southwestern border, are also “donating” a lot of air pollution from their power plants and factories. If only international borders included bubbles that prevented polluted air from drifting into neighboring countries! Poland is frequently in discussion with Germany and the Czech Republic about reducing air pollution. The southwest corner of Poland where Poland, the Czech Republic, and Germany meet is called the “Black Triangle” because of all the pollution from industry. Latest air quality reports (2007 from the Council for the Protection of the Natural Environment) say that 75% of the pollution produced by the 3 countries in the Black Triangle drifts into Poland.

Improving air quality and reducing air pollution in Poland is a difficult, complicated, and expensive problem. It’s especially expensive for a country that is struggling to strengthen its economy in order to switch to the Euro (the “switch date goal” of 2012 was pushed back to 2015 this year). It’s also difficult because air pollution isn’t a self-contained problem, but involves communication and cooperation with the also industry-heavy neighboring countries of Germany and the Czech Republic. And, because of the high costs of reducing air pollution, it’s not a top priority for Poles. In a 2004 study entitled “Valuing Air Quality in Poland,” Yale University researchers Dziegielewska and Mendelsohn reported that Polish citizens are not willing (a better phrase would be “cannot afford”) to contribute a lot of money towards Poland’s air quality reforms, and they don’t feel improving air quality should be one of the government’s top priorities either because of the great expenses.

I know that being an asthmatic affects how much importance I place on the quality of the air that I breathe. Today I’m grateful for asthma medication and that Poland is gradually trying – despite all the complications and expenses – to engage in thoughtful discussions about air pollution problem solving that won’t cripple its economy but also give everyone cleaner air to breathe.

Panie Jezu = Mr. Jesus. Life at the Jesus Church

*I wanted that gold star for perfect attendance for the 2009-2010 school year, but alas I'm a little under the weather with bronchitis. I’m too exhausted to write a blog post, but happily remembered that I’d written this entry last week but never posted it!

Next post(s): Air quality in Cieszyn, Polish healthcare, visa paperwork, and my school’s prom! Then, before my winter break, I’d like to (finally!) create a “post with answers to all the questions everyone has sent me.” If you have a question you’d like me to answer, send an e-mail to my gmail account, contact me on Facebook, or post your question in the “comments” box below this post by February 5. Thanks!

. . .

I attend a Lutheran church (the one in the photograph above) called “The Jesus Church” (yes, “The Jesus Church”). The religiously tolerant Emperor Joseph gave permission for the building of the Lutheran “Jesus Church” in Cieszyn in 1709. The restrictions? They had to build it “a cannon’s shot” away from the town walls. Work began in 1710 and finished in 1722. It’s a Baroque masterpiece. The bell tower is 75-meters high (246 feet – imagine a building with 20-25 floors). 6,000 people can fit in the pews here. It’s the largest Lutheran church in Poland and fairly well known because on October 12, 2008, Polish president Lech Kaczyński visited the “Jesus Church.” He was the 1^st Polish president to ever – ever! – visit a Protestant place of worship in Poland. The bell tower is always lit and a great “beacon” when I’m walking at night. See the Jesus Church in the upper-right hand corner of the photograph below? It's the tallest building in Cieszyn.

There are approximately 76,000 Evangelical Church of Augsburg Confession members in Poland. Only 170 pastors, 190 congregations. The ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Church in America) – 5 million members, over 10,000 congregations. The ELCA Metropolitan Chicago Synod alone – one of 65 ELCA synods – covers four Illinois counties and has 206 congregations. Yes, we’re in the minority in Catholic Poland. It’s also a concentrated minority, with a high percentage of all Polish Lutherans living in the region where I live. World War II hindered the stability of the Lutheran church here because approximately 1 out of 3 Lutheran church leaders were murdered in Nazi concentration camps. But the church is now continuing to grow and develop.

All students at public schools in Poland are enrolled in Catholic religion classes, and therefore the Lutheran schools I teach at provide a unique opportunity for parents to send their students to schools where their children will learn about Lutheranism. (I should note here that Lutheran and Catholic students – although the majority of them are Lutheran – attend my schools, and they are assigned to religion classes accordingly.)

Here are my observations about Lutheranism in Poland and The Jesus Church. I am not an expert on Polish Lutheranism, but here’s what I’ve experienced through my “ELCA faith lens.”

“The Catholic Church in Poland celebrated Christmas today.” And the Lutherans did too! It’s news statements like “The Catholic Church in Poland celebrated Christmas today” that “hit-you-over-the-head-so-you-don’t-forget-everyone-here-is-Catholic”. The older students I teach in the evenings (ages 30-70) frequently tell me that Cieszyn is wonderful because it’s tolerant of its Lutherans and lets them worship freely. Sometimes I want to laugh when I hear this; sometimes I want to drop my jaw in disbelief and astonishment. What is the definition of “tolerance”? “To tolerate” is “to bear” or “to endure” – and yes, Catholics here “endure” Lutherans. But "tolerate" is a word with a negative connotation, isn’t it? Isn’t there a better, friendlier relationship word we could strive to achieve? But “tolerance” is the appropriate word for the relationship I’ve observed here between Lutherans and Catholics, where Lutherans and Catholics rarely date and almost never marry.

Of course Lutherans and Catholics have differing doctrines and traditions (that I don’t plan to re-hash here). But a friend recently sent me a link to an exhibit called “We Are More Alike Than Different,” and, in my opinion, it’s true for Lutherans and Catholics too (especially after the 1999 “Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification” – “saved by faith, not works” – understanding between the Catholic Church and the Lutheran World Federation)! Couldn’t they at least say, “The Christian Church in Poland celebrated Christmas today?”

Women leadership. It’s interesting that the Lutherans and Catholics here struggle to “tolerate” each other because sometimes the Lutheran church services I attend better resemble Catholic services in America than Lutheran ones. One “hit-you-over-the-head” difference between Polish Lutheran churches and American Lutheran churches (I should clarify here and say ELCA Lutheran Churches) is the role of women in the church. The Polish Lutheran Church does not ordain women.

At a conference this fall in Warsaw, here’s what Jerzy Sojka, a spokesperson for the Evangelical Church of the Augsburg Confession in Poland, said about the church’s discussion about the ordination of women: “Our situation is not conditioned by theological considerations alone but also by economic, social and cultural questions, as well as by ecumenical relations. Although a debate on this issue is taking place, it also needs quiet reflection. We are, unfortunately, only a small community here, and we have to take the conservative Polish context into account.”

Knowing that it’s not my place to say, not my culture, not my decision, I pray that the freshman girl I teach on Friday mornings will have the opportunity to serve as a Lutheran pastor like she plans.

. . .

On to “less serious church service observations”...

The Jesus Church bells. They are very loud and were distracting in my lessons at the beginning of the year (the school is across the street from the church). The bells ring everyday at 6 a.m., 12 p.m., and 7 p.m., whenever a congregation member dies, and to announce the beginning and conclusion of every service on Sundays. They aren’t musical "play a melody" bells, but gongs. In September, they woke me up at 6 a.m. every morning. Now, they are part of my “sound landscape” and sometimes I ask myself, “did the bells ring today?”

Hot air rises. But you have to turn on the heat first. The church sanctuary is located across the street from the church office, nursery, Sunday school, etc. Why pay to heat the sanctuary for only 5 hours on Sunday morning? I know they heat the church a little, but it’s a sanctuary that seats 6,000 people and would cost a fortune to heat properly. Dressing for 10 a.m. church is like dressing to go skiing. I wear nice pants and a nice blouse, but also long underwear (top and pants), wool ski socks, my winter boots from L.L. Bean, a wool coat, a fleece scarf, a hat, and leather gloves. I was worried when it got cold in October because I didn’t know how I would survive the 1.5-2 hour service without my coat! Luckily, in the winter, everyone wears coats, hats, scarves, ugly snow boots, and gloves for the whole service. After the service, you’re freezing despite all the winter gear because your body didn’t generate heat from sitting and we don’t sit next to people and benefit from their body heat either (everyone gets a pew to him/herself or for his/her family because the church is gigantic). Colleen and I almost always have a hot lunch when we arrive home. Can’t wait for the spring and summer!

The balcony. At home, I sit in front at church. Here, I sit in the center balcony (the lower of the church's two balconies). Why? 1) Sitting in the front when you have no clue what’s happening 90% of the service is not a brilliant plan. 2) The best singers sit in the balcony and it’s easier to understand their pronunciation and determine if you’re singing the correct hymn. 3) Lots of people like the balcony and therefore it’s a little “crowded”; if necessary, I can strategically sit myself behind someone and glance at the page number in their hymnal if the pastor decides to abandon the numbers posted on the board and I get lost. I'm happy (and very proud) to report that people now sometimes look over my shoulder and turn to the page I'm on in my hymnal. Everyone gets lost sometimes and that's reassuring. Here's a photograph of the sanctuary from where I sit in the balcony.

Giggle fits. Church is sometimes – okay, frequently – stressful and confusing. And when I’m stressed, I laugh to release the tension. Also, when I don’t have an explanation for an odd occurrence (typically because I didn’t understand what the pastor said), it’s difficult to keep a straight face when I’m only hearing my own internal commentary – that I sometimes find hilarious (again, great coping mechanism). Church here is very solemn and that never helps my predicament. One of the first services we attended, we watched as the congregation solemnly rose, walked slowly behind the altar, and sat back down. We had no clue why they were marching around the altar, and I struggled to keep a straight face when we joined the procession. We learned that you deposit your offering next to the altar, but we didn’t know!

Sometimes we sing songs to melodies that I recognize. For example, this month, we sang a hymn with 7 verses to the tune Woody Guthrie set his “This Land is Your Land, This Land is My Land,” song to (he didn't compose the tune), and it felt funny! I kept remembering singing patriotic songs in elementary school music class.

Colleen also sometimes provides service commentary that tickles my funny bone. It’s a gift to attend church with someone, but sometimes it causes trouble. Sometimes we’ll laugh when trying to pronounce a 16-letter Polish word in a hymn. Once, when the pastor was baptizing two infants in January, Colleen said to me “You could take the baby camping in that outfit.” It’s true! The babies were dressed in “baptism sleeping bags” because it’s so terribly cold in the church. For this baptism, I never saw evidence of a baby in either “sleeping bag” – not an arm, a face, nor a leg. I shook with silent laughter for 5 minutes after Colleen’s comment. Sometimes I worry because I never want to act disrespectful. Other times, I acknowledge that it’s comic relief and that I’m trying my best. It’s a shame that I don’t have the language skills to tell other congregation members why I laughing (luckily for me, it’s almost always silent, restrained laughter). It’s also fair to note that I’ve had dozens of laughing fits at my home congregation in America too (especially awful when you’re sitting in the choir loft)!

Music. We have a beautiful organ (shown in the photograph below), but I miss singing with a piano. The choir sings approximately once a month, but typically only at one service (either the 8 a.m. or 10 a.m. service). No other instrumentalists play during the service, unless they’re accompanying the choir. The hymns are typically solemn and slow. I miss the music at my home congregation in America.

No bulletin. Because there’s no bulletin, all church announcements are read by the pastor at 10 a.m. It is a lengthy process. Our balcony mates sometime arrive 10-15 minutes late because they know that announcements are never brief. I typically understand dates, times, locations, and a few select words. I don’t know how everyone remembers everything he says! Of course, not knowing Polish is the primary source of difficulty for me during a church service, but a bulletin would help! They post the hymn numbers on boards around the church, but the lessons, prayers, etc. are typically hidden somewhere in the hymn book or are known by heart by the congregation and not printed at all. It’s not exactly a “visitor friendly” service. (Again, I know that language is a key barrier, but a couple teachers at school have also admitted to getting very lost at their church services – at churches they have attended for years!) The church also switched hymnals a couple years ago, and we all know that causes nothing but trouble for long-time members of the congregation. :)

Seizure Christmas lights. It’s easy to get distracted when you don’t understand 90% of what the pastor is saying. It’s especially easy to get distracted when they put a 10+ foot Christmas tree on the altar for the month of January and deck it out with what I call “seizure Christmas lights” that are kept on (yes, on!) for the whole (yes, whole!) service. The lights are all white, but every strand is “special.” Some strands flash slow; some flash fast. Some “do the wave.” Some turn half the lights on, then turn them off and turn the other half on. Some sing Christmas carols (kidding). It’s dreadful! They are horribly distracting and in stark contrast to the solemn tone of services here. Luckily the tree will be removed next week in line with Polish traditions!

“One man show.” The Jesus Church’s three pastors (all men) rotate the responsibility of preaching and leading the service every month. One pastor preaches all Sundays in September, the next pastor all Sundays in October, the third pastor all Sundays in November, etc. There are no acolytes, assisting ministers, lectors, associate pastors, communion assistants, or ushers here. Only the one pastor is responsible for the service. He sings, gives announcements, preaches, reads, baptizes, blesses, serves communion, says the prayers – everything. The pastor also directs 75% of his prayers/songs/readings to the altar, with his back to the congregation. Here's a photograph of the pulpit where the pastor preaches from.

Infrequent communion. Communion is rarely celebrated at The Jesus Church. I spent Christmas in London, and I know they celebrated Holy Communion then. Since September, I’ve only attended two other services where they’ve celebrated Holy Communion. However, they do offer a separate communion service every Sunday. It’s for approximately 15 minutes and it’s sandwiched between the 8 a.m. service and the 10 a.m. service. It’s always an amazingly intimate service because typically fewer than a dozen people attend, and it’s one of the only times in the service when I feel the language barrier drop away. We kneel at the altar, the pastor blesses us, serves us communion (you never touch the wafer or the wine, he communes you), and blesses you again (touching every person on the head). I’m trying desperately to locate in print the full communion service because it’s not in the hymnal, and no one at school knows where I could get a copy. No luck yet, but not giving up!

Silence and no congregation member interaction. The service begins in silence (except for the ringing of the bells) and concludes in silence (again, except for the ringing of the bells). You silently enter your pew, say a prayer, and sit down. When the service concludes, you leave the church in silence. Congregation members don’t talk before the service, and only a few stand outside to talk afterwards (and not in this weather). There’s no sharing of the peace during the service. I miss it. I think I also feel very isolated from the other members at church too because of the size of the sanctuary – it’s a beautiful space, but everyone sits in his or her own solitary pew, far from other people.

No children. Infants attend church for their baptism and then disappear to the nursery and/or Sunday school until they return to prepare for their confirmation in 8^th grade (and then they’re forced to sit with their peers in the first two pews that are reserved especially for them). It’s odd never having children in the sanctuary (the Sunday school building is across the street), and I miss the children’s message.

Oh, the service is in Polish! Sometimes church is a struggle for me. It’s exhausting. The pastor’s words are sadly empty for me for almost 2 hours. I read my Bible in the morning at home and then try to pray and reflect at church. I’m rarely exposed to this level of Polish – the sermon and prayers are perhaps best equated to poetry and therefore extremely difficult for even fairly fluent speakers of English to translate for me. Church language includes a high level of vocabulary I couldn’t imagine acquiring in one year. At church, I sing hymns and say prayers based on my knowledge of the Polish sound system and the song or prayer’s significance and message slips through my fingers like smoke. Later I translate what I can at home and week by week, I slowly understand more and more of the service. I try; I try!

PART 2: “...it was the worst of times.” Not a “Sunny Sarah” post

I know it’s difficult to attend school after a two-week break. You’re happy on Monday to talk to friends about your vacation, but by Tuesday the novelty vanishes and it’s “oh, no, do we have to go to school?” If you read my earlier post about the 2010 English Conversation Winter Olympics, you’ll notice that I anticipated disinterest and behavior issues the 1^st week after vacation and tried my best to offset them by creating an engaging and surprising first lesson. Overall, my plan succeeded...until my two classes of 8^th grade boys on Thursday.

For one class of 8^th grade boys, I only saw the students for 15 minutes because they had a field trip. We only finished the Olympics “opening ceremony.” At the conclusion, four students did the Nazi/Hitler salute. I held them after class and told them that I was reporting this to their homeroom teacher and that if I saw them saluting again I would report their behavior to the principal of the school. It was not acceptable in my classroom. They apologized.

After my second class with 8^th grade boys, I realized that I had forgotten one of my dictionaries in the classroom and returned to the room to discover that they had drawn dozens of swastikas on the blackboard. I later discovered that both classes had also drawn swastikas and Stars of David on handouts I had given them in class. Upset, sad, furious, and disappointed, I immediately visited the school office and asked to talk to the director of the school. If you have discipline problems in one of your classes, you’re supposed to talk to the students’ homeroom teacher, and then the homeroom teacher addresses the issue during homeroom the following week. I try to respect the discipline system the school established, but asking the homeroom teacher to talk to them NEXT WEEK was not acceptable. The students had finished school and left for the day (my lesson is their last lesson), but I – I, not their homeroom teacher – needed to tell them ASAP that this behavior is hateful and not acceptable in my classroom.

What’s especially sickening about their “jokes” is that the Holocaust “succeeded” in Poland. I know that’s an unusual way to describe it, but Hitler wanted to destroy the Jewish race, and in Poland, he did. The Nazis murdered three million Polish Jews and three million non-Jewish Poles, especially political leaders and other leaders because the Nazis wanted to strip Poland of its leadership to prevent uprisings. Before WWII, 10% of Poland’s population was Jewish. Fewer than 150,000 Polish-Jewish people (of over 3-3.5 million) survived WWII.

When I approached the director/principal, she said she would talk to the homeroom teacher, and I had anticipated this response because that’s the policy. But I told her that I was upset and I wanted to talk to the students myself – and ASAP. She listened and asked me what I wanted to do next. I asked her if I could have a meeting with all of the 8^th grade boys the following morning during the 10-minute break. She said okay and offered to attend the meeting to help translate if necessary and to show her support of what I said (I planned to ask her to attend, but I appreciate that she offered without me asking). I cannot adequately thank her for letting me address the students and for offering to attend the meeting with me. It’s not how the school responds to problems, but it was important to me that I talked to the students, not their homeroom teacher. And no, in my opinion, it couldn’t wait until homeroom next week.

I also learned from the principal that the school had serious discussions with a couple students in my classes last semester because of inappropriate Holocaust and Nazi jokes and illustrations. I wish I could say that it’s reassuring to know that this behavior is not unique to my classroom, but instead it’s awful to know that they tried to address this last semester and it’s occurring again.

I held the meeting with my 8^th grade boys this morning and I feel good about it. Not good that it was necessary, but good about how I chose to respond to the situation. I told the students how I felt and I know I scared them a little. I’m typically sunny, cheery, and frequently laughing in the classroom. Today when I was talking to them I was so angry and upset I was shaking. I told them how saddened I was that they would joke about the Holocaust when millions of Poles were murdered by the Nazis. I told them that if I heard/saw any jokes or illustrations in the future, I would immediately escort the student(s) to the principal’s office (you also “don’t do that” here, but trust me, I will if I need to). After the meeting, many of the students would not look me in the eyes, and that’s good. They left the room silently, and I know their classmates (who were not involved) heard about our discussion because they were very timid in my classes today (but warmed up eventually). But the involved students now know that I will not tolerate this behavior, and they know that the school administration is aware of the situation and backing me up. But it breaks my heart that I had to have this discussion with them.

. . .

One hour after telling 30 boys that swastikas and the Hitler salute are symbols of hate and not acceptable in my classroom, one of my classes of 9^th grade boys (the class with 4 students who were almost expelled at the beginning of the year for drug possession and other behavior issues) locked me out of the classroom. Whoever taught in Room #1 before me left the key to the classroom in the room instead of hanging it up in the teachers’ room. I arrived to Room #1 a couple minutes late because I was trying to track down the key and the students had locked the door from the inside. I knocked, and they let me in, but I was livid. I reported the incident to their homeroom teacher, talked to the principal, and wrote about the incident in the “school behavior book” reserved only for the most “horrific” discipline issues. Of course, I also immediately responded in the classroom and the students knew that they were toast. It’s a little reassuring that this class has it’s own special page in the “school behavior book” because of the number of issues they’ve had this year (again, they don’t act up only in my classes, but I’d prefer that they didn’t act up at all!), but I was furious and very disappointed. Needless to say, they behaved exceedingly well for that lesson after our “talk.”

. . .

I’m happy to say that of my five classes today, 4 were spectacular and a lot of fun. At the end of the day, I packed my bag to go home, put on my boots (we have lots of snow and today is the 6^th straight day of snowfall in a row!), and then the principal of the school found me to tell me that...my neighbors - attempting to fix their plumbing - had accidentally drilled a large hole through my kitchen wall! (These are the neighbors who have screaming matches at 3 a.m. 2-3 times a week next to the paper-thin wall we share – there’s a tradition in Poland that says whatever you do on New Year’s, you’ll do for the rest of the year. Well, they were screaming...not a good outlook for 2010.) Sadly (but thankfully!), they quickly repaired the hole before I could photograph it, but at least you can see the size of the hole in this photograph. Impressive, isn't it?

“...it was the worst of times.” One of my challenges in the classroom is responding quickly and effectively to problems. My policy is to respond immediately to discipline problems (I also NEVER “turn a blind eye”), but I would prefer to stop, think, consider, re-think, re-consider, re-evaluate before having to speak and act. But I feel good – as good as I could feel given the circumstances – about how I handled the discipline issues today (of course, you wish they wouldn’t exist at all). Luckily, it’s the weekend; I’m talking to friends and family today and having “fancy tea” at a teahouse with a friend tonight, and Colleen and I are celebrating Christmas/New Year’s on Sunday because we weren’t together for the holidays (I’m baking strawberry cream cheese French toast with strawberries I froze in the fall!). And with all the snow, I know we’ll have a white Christmas!

PART 1: "It was the best of times..." A "Sunny Sarah" post

Semester one: September 1, 2009 – December 22, 2009. Semester two: January 4, 2010 – June 25. 2010. Notice the difference? Semester two is approximately two months longer than semester one! Planning a six-month semester felt daunting. My solution: treat January and February as a special, confined “mini-semester.” The theme...

The 2010 English Conversation Winter Olympics!

I’ve had a blast this week at school. When planning my lessons, I knew I needed to excite my students, distract them, surprise them, and laugh with them on the 1^st day of classes to re-energize them for the next couple months of English conversation. I know it’s difficult to return to school after a 2-week break.

For every lesson, I entered the classroom, said “Good morning” or “Good afternoon” and “Happy New Year!” and then didn’t say anything. This is unusual for me: I always write objectives for the day on the board and have a warm-up activity for them when I enter the classroom. If I’m handing out worksheets or vocabulary lists, I’ll tell them a story to “warm up their ears” and help them adjust to hearing English and my American accent.

I first (silently) passed out a copy of the “Olympic oath” (included below) to every student. Then I played the Olympic fanfare theme (you know, the “dah, dah, dah, dun dun dun dun...” theme); taped an Olympic poster I created with a photograph of the school, the words “Cieszyn 2010”, and my drawing of the Olympic rings to the blackboard; and then walked around the classroom and placed Olympic gold and silver medals around the necks of 3 or 4 students (I created the medals out of yarn, gold tissue paper, tin foil, and masking tape). Then I switched the music to the “flowing Olympic theme” (not the fanfare), grabbed my Olympic torch from my bag (created out of a paper towel roll, tin foil, masking tape, and red and yellow construction paper), and with lots of over-the-top “pomp and circumstance” presented the goofy opening ceremony that I wrote:

“A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, the people of Ancient Greece created a competition to honor their gods. The events of the competition tested a person’s strength, endurance, agility, and moral fiber. Only the best could take on the games of the Olympics. For the next six weeks, you too will participate in this time-honored tradition of sportsmanship and excellence. The 2010 English Conversation Olympic Games will test your language skills in a way they’ve never been tested before. Only the best will prevail. You will be asked to think harder than ever before, demonstrate your fluency, and prove to yourself and to the world that you are a true master of English conversation. The time has come for you to pledge yourself to the 2010 English Conversation Olympic Games."

Oath:

"Please raise your right hand and repeat after me:

In the name of all the competitors (REPEAT)

I promise that we shall take part in these Olympic Games (REPEAT)

Respecting and abiding by the rules which govern them (REPEAT)

In the true spirit of sportsmanship (REPEAT)

For the glory of our sport, and the honor of our teams. (REPEAT)

I, Miss Sarah, officially declare open the 2010 English Conversation Olympic Games in Cieszyn, Poland.”

The students loved the first line of the opening ceremony (“Star Wars” is one of their favorite films), and I know the youngest students did not understand every word I said, but I incorporated the visual and audio/music cues to help them. I couldn’t stop smiling during the opening ceremony, and my enthusiasm rubbed off on the students, including the exhausted, droopy-eyed students in my 8:50 a.m. classes (and lots of students laughed so hard they cried). They all (to my surprise!) applauded at the conclusion of the ceremony.

I then told the students that over the next six weeks they will have the opportunity to compete for individual medals and that every class will also compete as a team. (For example, all of my 7^th grade classes are competing against each other.)

The students then voted on a team name, nominated one or two students to create their team flag, and took a team photograph. I’m displaying their names, flags, and photographs on a bulletin board in the hallway that also tracks their medals.

Here’s the team photograph and flag for one 7^th grade class. They are “The Straw Hat Pirates.”

Then, for their 1^st Olympic event, the students worked alone or in pairs and designed an English Conversation Olympic Game. They had to tell me: the name of their event, the rules, whether it’s an individual or team event, what materials are needed, the length of the event, what English skills are “challenged” by the event (grammar, vocabulary, listening, speaking), and how medals (gold, silver, and bronze) are awarded.

Although I saw a couple older students roll their eyes during the opening ceremony (and two groaned when I said the games would “test their language skills”), the next minute they were excitedly brainstorming team names and designing events. Enthusiasm is infectious!

If students struggled to create an event, I helped them get excited by encouraging them to design events inspired by their interests (ranging from Twilight to football to Johnny Depp). I’m grateful for the time I spent in the fall getting to know my students; my knowledge of their personalities, interests, and quirks frequently helps me motivate them.

The 1^st event was very challenging for my youngest students; a couple under the question “what English skills are challenged by your event” wrote “nothing” BUT they filled out all other questions and worked very hard to create a game. The English component is tricky, and they learned a lot of new vocabulary in one lesson (and they were at least SPEAKING in English when they created their game – celebrate the small successes, right?).

Next week I’ll award medals to students who created events that I’ll include in the Olympics (because, of course, I can’t include all of the events in six weeks, and not all of the events are ideal for an English Conversation class). I’m designing the majority of the events (and tailoring them to each class’s ability level), but my goal is to include at least one student-designed game every lesson. A lot of the events they invented only last 2-3 minutes and are fantastically ridiculous. But I always try to include “mini-breaks” in my lesson anyways, and a lot of their games are perfect “2 minute breaks.” Plus (and the true purpose of the 1^st event), the students are very excited that we’ll get to play some of their games. Give the students a sense of ownership whenever possible, that’s my policy!

Here are my favorite silly “laughed so hard when I read them I cried” events that my students created (you’ll notice that some of these events include English skills as an “afterthought” like... “whoops, we need to somehow include English in this game!”):

1) “The Biggest Balloon”: You draw a face on a balloon, name him, blow him up, and create a 6-sentence story (in English, of course) about him. The team with the biggest balloon wins. What I loved about the event - the warning that read: “THE ASTHMA PEOPLE DON’T HAVE TO PLAY THIS GAME.” (And, no, my students do not know that I have asthma.) Under the question, “what English skills are tested by your event” they wrote “strong lungs.”

2) “Who Will Eat More Garlic and Onion”: First step of the game – “gather a lot of garlic and onion from a farm” (violating the "your event MUST take place in the classroom" rule). Step two: Eat garlic and onions as quickly as possible. The students’ last-minute attempt to redeem the game and include English? You say English numbers to keep track of what you’re eating – one onion, two onions, three onions...

3) “Kettle Skid”: A self-explanatory event name. You skid a teakettle across the floor and measure the distance in feet (there’s the “American English” component I’m looking for). How are medals awarded? Gold medal to whoever’s kettle skids 100 feet, silver medal to whoever’s kettle skids 98 feet, and the bronze to whoever’s kettle skids 75 feet. We evidently need a lesson about American measurements...

4) “Wispol vs. PKS”: (Necessary background knowledge: Wispol and PKS are two competing bus companies in Cieszyn.) The event: one student draws a PKS bus (about 3 inches long) and one student draws a Wispol bus (again, about 3 inches long). You cut the bus out, and tape it to your forehead (see photograph below). Then the two students race around the classroom to determine what bus company is best. Under “English skills” they wrote “nothing,” but they did include two sample cut-out buses. The inventors of the game also creatively decided to automatically award themselves the gold medal for creating the event.

I’ll keep you updated on the Olympic games! This weekend: creating dozens of gold, silver, and bronze medals out of cardboard, yarn, and paint!

Doorknob’s Day Out in London

My dad and sister Claire visited me in Cieszyn the third week of December. To show two people I love my home for the year...the feeling is indescribably wonderful, and I thank them for traveling the distance! We ate at my favorite Cieszyn restaurant, explored the town, visited my school and church, and traveled to Krakow for the weekend! (My dad is the family photographer, but we turned the camera on him a little bit, and here’s my new favorite photograph of my dad and me). My dad re-arranged my bedroom/living room furniture, and the new set-up is paradise! My sister attended one of my classes, where one student correctly observed – and told Claire – that she has “fantastic eyes.”

After our adventures in Cieszyn and Krakow, my dad, Claire, and I headed off to reunite with my mom and sister Kate in London! Here’s a photograph of Claire and my dad crossing the Czech Republic/Poland border (a 10-minute walk from my apartment) on the way to the train station! (I’ll never tire of the exhilaration of crossing an international border 6-8 times a week. Way better than crossing the Illinois/Wisconsin border.)

I studied in South Kensington my junior year of university, and I’m frequently homesick for London. But I never imagined that I’d re-visit my “ UK hometown” only two years after departing!

Here are my “top 10” favorite memories from London:

1) Watching an ABBA TV special with my sisters: The special was filled with fantastic British humour (spelled with a “u,” of course), including a great line where the narrator equated (lovingly, I should say; she also said she appreciated that they didn’t have a professional singer record Brosnan’s track) Pierce Brosnan’s singing in “Mamma Mia” to the “noises of a hamster giving birth to a grapefruit”. We laughed, participated in the sing-along, and I relished sister time with two of my favorite people in the world.

2) Fringe theatre - Shunt’s production of “Money”: “Are you tired, run down, listless? Do you poop out at parties? Are you unpopular? The answer to all your problems” is to attend a fringe theatre production in London! (Thanks to Lucy’s Vitameatavegemin girl for the quotation!) In 2008, I interned at a fringe theatre in London and fell head over heels in love with fringe theatre productions. I love the surprises, rawness, truth, silliness, and absurdity of experimental theatre. I also love knowing that you could never mount these fringe productions in the United States without having the audience members sign 20 waivers first (due to, in “Money’s” case, water ‘”artistically” dripping onto slippery staircases the audience had to walk up and down throughout the production; the serving of champagne to all audience members during the play; the throwing of ball pit balls at audience members; the tiny performance spaces that weren’t fire code; the terrifying loud noises, fog, and blinding lighting effects; the audience getting locked into rooms without doorknobs – you name it, they did it, and America wouldn’t allow it.) But after a fringe production, you exit the theatre energized, bewildered, ecstatic, confused, and filled with life! Thanks to my family for jumping aboard the fringe train for a night! (I learned this week that Prague holds a fringe festival in May/June, and that 80% of the productions are in English! I’m signed up for all of their mailings/e-mails, and no one can keep me away from that festival this spring.)

3) Christmas Day dinner at an elaborately decorated British restaurant inspired by the Magic Flute: We sat in an “opera box” (a “non-fire-code” opera box my parents would say – they crammed lots of people into a teeny-tiny restaurant), opened crackers, wore paper crowns, and enjoyed people-watching. So-so food, fantastic company. I remember attending a production of “The Magic Flute” with my parents and sister in elementary school (a production where young actors at the conclusion of the opera wore Bulls jerseys because the Bulls were at the height of their glory). We also listened to a wonderful abridged production of “The Magic Flute” on cassette in the car when we were kids. When I meet people my age who 1) listened to kids’ opera tapes in the car when they were little 2) have seen “Meet Me in St. Louis” or 3) watched “Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman,” I feel an instant connection with them (I’ll also say that numerous Lawrentians fit into this category).

4) Hugs and laughter: You know what you miss when you’re abroad and away from family? Giving and receiving hugs to/from people you love. I also never laugh more than when I’m with my family, and all our laughter in London renewed me for a second semester of teaching.

5) Our conversations at our “dinner table” in the Marriott Hotel lounge: I always miss family dinners when I’m away from home. When I’m home, it’s my favorite time of day.

6) Watching the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace with my parents: I was the “only child” on this outing, and highlights of the event included a) watching the police assigned to bark at people who walked in front of the Palace gates during the ceremony to “keep moving!” b) noting the number of American tunes the marching band played and c) fighting off the French mother and daughter who tried to bulldoze me over to get a better view. I’ve loved my Skype dates with my parents this year (typically “driving to work” dates with my dad and “work lunch break” dates with my mom) and spending a week with them was priceless and amazing. They’re the wisest people I know and the best parents I could ask for.

7) Favorite transportation memory: When we leapt onto a Piccadilly train at South Kensington station, excited to have “caught the train,” only to realize (after a quick “family discussion” in the center of the train car) that we had jumped onto a train heading west when we needed to head east. “Please mind the gap between the train and the platform.”

8) Unintentionally dressing identically with my sisters: The three of us arrived to breakfast one morning all wearing teal shirts, black cardigans, and jeans (mind you, we shared a hotel room – I don’t know how we left the room without noticing). Sadly, I forgot to create “photographic evidence” of this day, but it’s a frequent occurrence in our household (our mentality that “we all live apart 75% of the year anyways so it’s okay to buy similar clothing” is sometimes hilarious when we all suddenly end up in the same state/country at the same time).

9) Family jokes: Remember my description of our fringe theatre experience? Well, when the production ended, Claire left the theatre with a brass doorknob in her purse that she didn’t discover until the following morning. How does our family react to this discovery? By photographing the object we affectionately named “Doorknob” on all our London excursions (and, if you’re curious, Doorknob is a “he,” not a “she,” perhaps in an attempt to create a more equal gender balance in our family). Here’s Doorknob (yes, capital “D”) waiting for the bus at Piccadilly Circus. Here’s Doorknob watching a turnstile at the Russell Square Tube stop eat Kate’s ticket. Claire and Kate have a Facebook album entitled “Doorknob’s Day Out in London” in the works.

10) Top highlight of my London holiday: Knowing that I didn’t need to fly across the Atlantic to go “home.” When I’m with my family, wherever we are, I’m home. They’re my people.

A Polish Christmas

Szczesliwego Nowego Roku! Happy New Year! (You’ll notice that “happy” here begins with “szcz.” I’ve mastered pronouncing “szcz” if it’s in the middle of a word or at the end, but it frequently baffles me at the beginning. “Szcz” in Polish is pronounced “sh-ch” – “sh” as in “shoe” and “ch” as in “church.” I know – theoretically – how to pronounce it, but my mouth and tongue don’t always cooperate, especially with the “s” and “l” after the “szcz.”)

It’s a little late for a Christmas post, but I didn’t have Internet access in London and couldn’t post from there. Then when I arrived in Cieszyn I didn’t have Internet access for a couple days (I’ll blame “fluffy French snow” like the Eurostar). Here’s a post about Polish Christmas traditions!

First of all, Christmas in Poland reminds you that you are living in a country where approximately 95% of the population is Catholic and the other 5% includes rebellious Lutherans like myself. Christmas traditions here are very closely linked with Catholic traditions. The lack of “Happy Holiday” greetings is also a chilling reminder that of the over 3 million Jewish people who lived in Poland prior to WWII, nearly 90% were executed by the Nazis. (The Nazis burned all synagogues in Cieszyn in September 1939, and now all that’s left are the ruins of two Jewish cemeteries. I’ll post later more about the Holocaust and Poland.)

Adwent, or Advent: Pronounced identically in English and Polish (in Polish, “w” is pronounced “v”)! In Poland, you’re supposed to give up entertainment, sweets, parties, etc. during Advent. (One friend warned me in the fall that I needed to go to the disco a lot in November before it closed for Advent.) I have to admit I failed miserably in this department. I held several parties and served cookies and sweets at all of them. But for me, Advent gave me the opportunity to thank the important people in my life here. Here’s a picture of my mini-Christmas party with Bozena and Rafal (and Colleen and Claire!), two friends who told me in all seriousness at the beginning of the year that they’d like to see me at least once a week. I am very grateful to them for their companionship, their humor, their kindness, and their eagerness to help.

Advent at church: I need to write a full post about church, but here I’ll only say two quick "Advent facts." First, I loved attending church the 1^st Sunday of Advent and discovering the Advent candles were red! Second, every Sunday in Advent we sang “Thine is the Glory!” I almost laughed the 1^st time we sang it because I’ve only sung it on Easter before! Of course, although the tune (by Handel) is identical, the Polish text relates to Christ’s birth, not Christ’s resurrection. What will we sing on Easter, I wonder? It’s also traditional to sing Christmas carols at church for the month of January. I’ve translated a couple popular Polish carols in hopes of understanding a couple we sing tomorrow.

Szopka Krakowska, or Krakow Christmas Cribs: When my dad and sister Claire visited, we had the amazing opportunity to visit Krakow for its Christmas market and view the nativity scenes in Krakow’s 67^th annual Nativity Scene Contest! People have created nativity scenes in Krakow for a couple centuries now. Their architectural design is influenced by churches in Krakow, including St. Mary’s Church, pictured below (thanks, Claire, for the beautiful photograph!). The Holy Family is always included somewhere, but the artist also includes other “characters” like heroes from literature, politicians, you name it! The szopka are magnificently colorful, glittering with colored foil and ornate decorations. They’re amazing works of art created primarily out of wood and tin foil! The prominent colors of the szopka – gold, red, and navy – are the colors that appear on traditional Krakow dresses for women. Here's a picture of one of the beautiful szopka we saw on display.

Choinka, or Christmas Tree, and Decorations: The Christmas tree is traditionally decorated on Christmas Eve, or perhaps a couple days before. Christmas decorations and candy arrived in all the stores here by the second week of October (yes, October!). February 2, called “Swieto Matki Boskiej Gromniczney” or “Candlemas” is, traditionally, the last day of the Polish Christmas season, and the day when people take down their trees.

Wigilia, or Christmas Eve: The Christmas Eve meal begins when the 1^st star appears (you can’t always view the stars through the smog that’s the result of all the coal burning here, but I refrained from pointing this out when people described this tradition to me.) An extra place at the table is set for a stranger in need (like Joseph and Mary searching for a place to stay) or to remember a deceased family member. Traditionally, 12 meatless dishes are served, symbolizing the 12 apostles. (Authentic vegetarians would scoff at what Poles called vegetarian because here a “meatless meal” typically includes bacon bits sprinkled on the top or small pieces of kielbasa hidden in the sauce. My dad quoted “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” when I told him about this. It’s like when Ian announces that he’s a vegetarian and Aunt Voula says, “that’s okay, I make lamb!”) Traditional Christmas Eve dishes include herring, beet soup, carp (my adult conversation class enjoyed telling me how they bring the carp home alive and then prepare it on Christmas Eve), pierogi, and a couple dishes with poppyseeds and mushrooms. Everyone attends mass/church at night and at midnight, animals supposedly can speak (although no one can confirm this because they are all good parishioners and are at church at midnight).

Opłatek: Opłatek is an unleavened wafer (like a communion wafer) imprinted with nativity scenes (in the photograph below, it's imprinted with a scene of Mary and baby Jesus surrounded by angels). It’s also called the “bread of love” or “the angel’s bread.” It’s broken and shared at Christmas Eve dinner. Everyone receives a wafer and then you give a piece to every family member and wish them a “Merry Christmas.” Several of my students named this moment at Christmas Eve dinner their favorite Christmas tradition. I purchased opłatek at my congregation here in Cieszyn and brought them to London to share with my family! I also brought “szulki,” a rolled biscuit made by Lutheran churches in southern Poland for its congregation to enjoy on Christmas Eve. Here's a picture of my family with their opłatek and szulki!

Christmas Day: No special foods or traditions; everything of importance occurred on Christmas Eve! But typically a day with family (and lots of meat dishes). Gifts are exchanged on Christmas Eve, not Christmas Day, and are not brought by Santa Claus, but the baby Jesus or the messenger angel. (No one in my family ever liked the notion of a strange old man sneaking down the chimney into our house uninvited; this explanation for the gifts under the tree would have probably suited us much better. Except how did baby Jesus or the angel get into our house...)

Home Alone: What do my students do on Christmas Day? Watch “Home Alone” on TV (called “Kevin is Home Alone” in Poland). And they love it. I secretly wept a little when I heard this (although I enjoyed telling my students that the movie was filmed in the Chicago area and at the airport I departed from in August). This is the American contribution to Christmas in Poland? Oh dear. I looked up “Home Alone” on IMDB and loved reading the questions readers have submitted about “Home Alone” including: “Why didn’t the parents notice Kevin’s absence when they presented his airline ticket at the boarding gate?” (IMBD’s answer: “In the scramble to get on the airplane, the ticket may have been overlooked. Another possibility is that Kevin's ticket was tossed in the trash when his father wiped up after Kevin spilled milk all over the passports and tickets. Look closely at the trash, and you'll see what looks like a ticket nestled inside the red napkins. Without a ticket for Kevin, no one apparently noticed that he was not in the group.” Apparently.)