I’ll start by just saying that had I not made a very poor decision, I would be thousands of dollars richer but lacking one hell of an adventure chalk full of life lessons. I’ll explain, but lets start from the beginning.
I made my first mistake very early on. When getting ready to leave Sweden, I thought it would be fun to leave my coat behind. It was kind of exciting to think about not needing it because the weather was supposed to be nice in Poland. So off I go in a shirt and leggings, carrying a bag full of summer clothing. I caught the Swebus to the airport Tuesday afternoon. I arrived safely to Krakow, Poland around 8:30pm. Now, remember that I am traveling without a cell phone. I had hand drawn a map of where my hostel was located from the main train station in Krakow. When I arrived, I asked some men at a desk where I was to catch the train from the airport. They told me to catch the bus and then I would catch the train from another stop. They suggested I have cash on me to pay for the ticket so I went to the ATM right next to their counter. I couldn’t figure out how much I should withdraw because I didn’t know the exchange rate. “400 zloty is about 100 Euro,” a guy says over my shoulder. American! This guy from Cali sparks up conversation and off we go to catch the bus together. He was teaching English in Spain and currently doing some traveling. He was truly a blessing in disguise. He was obviously more traveled than I, so I followed his lead getting on and off the train. Hand drawn maps… yeah not so helpful. There were buildings, intersections, and tunnels where I was supposed to just walk a straight line. He, like most modern day folks, had an iphone and graciously assisted in helping me locate my hostel. We decided to go out for a beer so he waited while I headed up to check out my room. Sitting on one of the bunk beds was a lonely Australian/English girl who had first been put in a room with two creepy Polish men (they turn up later in my story) and then demanded a different room, landing the one I was also assigned. I asked her to join Ben and I for a drink and she gladly decided to partake. We ended up finding this really cool little underground pub where we ordered a massive tube of beer that had its own spout for pouring. After closing down the pub, I was starving and decided there was no better time than now to lose my kabob v-card. It was a deliciously memorable moment. Arguably, far more enjoyable than losing the real thing. Have a kabob kids and save yourself stress and confusion.
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| Now thats a face of satisfaction. |
The next day I left at about 9am to the Zakopane and Tatra Mountains. It was a 2 and ½ hour drive and after the 2nd hour had passed I was beginning to feel the effects of last nights beverages. We drove through this really cool little town that was comparable to an Amish community. All homes were hand built with logs, no electricity is used, and they still use horse and buggy to get around. I can respect that, but going against the natural progression of life’s modern advances seems like more work than rolling with it. When we finally arrived, we took a lift to the top of the mountain. You could see mountain peaks in all directions and the city below. It was absolutely stunning. When we went back down, our group split up and we were all able to do as we pleased. I did some shopping and bought a couple of clothing items as well as a delicious Polish meal.
On the way home I passed out in the car in order to store energy for the evening that lie ahead. When I returned my Australian/English friend, Melissa, was in the room and we made plans to meet up with Ben for dinner and an evening out. We ended up at this really cozy Polish restaurant where we were served a massive platter of meat, primarily pig, potatoes and too many horseradish vodka shots.
It was so good and we all left completely stuffed. We tried out a couple of bars. They all began to look the same after a while. Most are underground with brick interior, crazy lighting, seating nooks and crannies, and staircases leading to balcony niches. The night ended with a dance club consisting of one lonely woman breaking it down on the dance floor. She was just waiting for some man to come take her home. We tried convincing Ben, but he wasn't convinced she was his type. I don't know.. I like the type that close down the bar and can own the dance floor independently. It says, "I don't need a wolf pack, I kick it solo."
When I met a Polish person, I would ask them to tell me something about the Polish people generally speaking. I repeatedly got the same two answers. Envious and complainers. Interesting. The economy in Poland is getting better but their isn’t much opportunity. My German friend told me that Germans were upset when they opened up the boarders to Poland because crime rates got much worse and car theft became a big problem. These Polish characteristics were unfortunate in my situation that is soon to follow…
The next day Ben and I went to Auschwitz. What an experience that was. Ben was a history major in collage and knew a plethora of information on the Holocaust. There were many things that happened during the Holocaust that I was completely unaware of. I think most people, like myself, associate the Holocaust with Germany, but Auschwitz was the largest concentration camp and death camp, killing over 1,300,000 people between 1940-1945. 1.1 million victims were Jewish but 145,000 were Poles, 23,000 were Gypsies, 15,000 POW, 25,000 were prisoners from other ethnic groups. Take a minute to think about that and let those numbers set in. That’s huge. I also didn’t realize the victims were deported from all over Europe. From Hungry, Poland, France, the Netherlands, Greece, Slovakia, Belgium, Austria, Germany, Yugoslavia, Italy, Norway etc. as they were forced out of their home and taken to Auschwitz by train. Most believed they were just being moved to a ghetto so they all carried suitcases and some valuables. They were given no food or water on the trip and many died on the trek.
When they arrived, the weak were immediately taken to the gas chambers. False showerheads were fixed to the ceiling and the SS told them they were getting a shower as they were herded into the chamber. Approx 2,000 victims were crammed into the chamber which was approx 235 sq ft. The door was locked and the poison, Cyklon 8, was released. Those directly under the poison died immediately but it took around 20 minutes for everyone to have passed. When the chamber was opened, the victims were then stripped of anything valuable; gold teeth, hair, jewelry etc. and then transported to the crematory. Seeing the thousands of pounds of hair on display was the most shocking to me. The SS would cut the victims hair and then sell the fiber to be used for textiles. Killing people was expensive and they had to be creative to fuel their scheme. Those who were strong enough to work were kept around and housed in the barracks. I honestly don’t know how these people survived the conditions at all. The barracks felt colder inside than out and they were sleeping 5 to each bed.
Blocks 10 and 11 were very disturbing to visit. They were called the death blocks and it was where human experimentation was done. Women were used as guinea-pigs for sterilization experiments and killing techniques were performed on all prisoners, as they were trying to find the most efficient and effective way to mass murder in the cheapest possible manor.
I have been told many times, “The one who does not remember history is bound to live through it again,” though now that saying has taken on a whole new meaning. Continuing on a lighter note…
Ben and Melissa decided to take the night train together to Prague so we all went for coffee before saying our goodbyes. I missed my sane friends so much and had no idea once they left, shit would crumble right between my fingers.
That evening I had to move from the upstairs bedroom Melissa and I shared, to the downstairs bedroom with the two crazy Polish guys. However, there were 4 other young international students in the room as well. One of the guys could speak Polish so when the creepy Polish guy (CPG) wanted to talk with me, he would translate for him. CPG had problems with staring and because he took no precaution to be sly about looking, I knew he already had me scoped out. It started off with a hello, my name is, and where are you from which eventually lead to “have a beer with me.” After an amusing 30-minute go-around I agreed to have a beer with CPG as well as everyone one else partying in the room.
When our Polish translator decided to pass out for the evening, CPG was left saying “mammacieta” “problemo” and “please” as well as mumbling Polish, which no one could understand. We were hanging out in the common room and I brought my computer in for music. Bad idea. CPG wouldn’t shut up about finding a song he wanted to listen to. We couldn’t understand what he wanted but when a slow song came on and he began kissing my hand and pulling me up to dance, his motive became quite clear. I told him I would have one slow dance and that was it. My sweet dance moves must have thrown him into a possessed trance because he became very possessive. We all opted to call it a night so CPG would pass out and keep things from getting out of hand. We all laid down and turned out the lights. CPG left the room for 10 minutes and came back with more beer. He sat on the side of my bed insisting I have another drink with him. I said no very sternly and said to leave my bedside. He did but then decided to try again saying “oh mammacieta, Problemo.. problemo..” I asked him to get off my bed again, but he wouldn't budge. There was no way in hell I was going to bed with a drunk, aggressive, apparently horney Polish guy sitting on the end of my bed. He was practically ready to pounce. I got up and told the front desk what was going on and she moved me to another room on the other side of the building. I don’t know what was worse. I was in this massive 12-bed room with 20 ft ceilings, 2 creepy chandeliers, enormous windows and a door that creaked open and close. There were 3 guys from England staying at the hostel as well that I had spoken to days before. I saw out the door that they were trickling in from a night out. I came out of the room and told one of them my situation. He offered their extra bed and I gladly accepted. When he couldn’t get his roommate to open the door, he went to the front desk to get a key. I sat on the stairs waiting for him with my blanket and pillow in hand. He came back with the girl from the front desk… she sees me sitting on the stairs outside my room looking like an orphan child with my blanket and pillow in hand. She asked if I was ok but I didn’t want to tell her I was heading up to their room for the night. First of all, because she might not allow me to stay in their room. Secondly, because I didn’t want to look like a hussy. After some awkward conversation she finally left and the English guy let me in. I later found out she came back to check on me and was asking everyone where I’d gone. Regardless, I was finally able to sleep.
Friday I did some shopping and had my haircut and colored. My favorite part of the day was buying a delicious orange from the market in the Jewish quarter and then eating it in the sunshine while people-watching in the park. That is one reason I love big cities. I am so easily amused by human interaction.
When I got back to the hostel I met up with the English guys and we all headed for the square where we were to meet for the tram party.
If you are family, please skip the following paragraph and continue below.
If you are friends and did not send me hundreds of dollars to correct my fuck up, please continue reading. The tram party consisted of power-hour at a local bar, then after consuming too much beer in a short period of time, everyone loads on a tram where there is a DJ and drinks/dances while the tram tours the city. Well, the tram party was amazing but in the midst of having fun, I laid my purse down on a chair, never to tend to again. In my purse was my new camera, iphone, wallet with cash, credit cards, student cards, etc, and last but certainly not least, my passport. Why I thought it was a good idea to bring EVERYTHING valuable, I’ll never know. I got off the tram without my purse and it has yet to be found. For future reference, take a copy of your passport, not the actual thing. Most places will always take cash but not every place takes a card, so take enough cash for the evening and leave your cards at the hotel. Don’t take all your cash with you incase it does get stolen. Have enough stored away in a secret place so you’re never without, regardless of the situation. It is always best to walk around with as little as possible. Mainly to avoid having to hang on to it and worry about where to put it, but also to give those looking for people to steal from as little incentive to steal from you. Oh, and when traveling in a foreign country, take it easy on the booze. Being wasted in your hometown is very different than a country in which your language is not the local tongue and being unaware of where you are can leave you easily open to harms way. Had I followed the advice given in those last few sentences, I would not have been in the same situation. I thank God for being with good people and one particular English guy who got me home safely despite the fact I might have, quite possibly, not really sure, but I think most definitely.. puked on his lap.
When I woke up Saturday morning, the day my flight was to leave, the English guys and I tried contacting the party tram guide and the people who clean the tram at the end of the evening. They said nothing had been found. First, I went to the police station to make a report. Luckily there was one guy who could speak English and helped me out. He said to go to the embassy with the police report and they’d take care of me. That was, of course, just way to easy. The embassy wasn’t open until Monday. I called the emergency number and a nice lady, Ann, told me there was nothing they could do over the weekend but that I should do a money transfer at the Western Union so I’d have money for food until Monday. Failed attempt number 2. The banks closed at 2pm on Saturday and it was just past 3. It became apparent I was going to miss my flight and have to wait until Monday to get a temporary passport. I couldn’t move hostels because I didn’t have any money or credit cards, but the hostel I was at had my card number on file. However, they had no room. The English guys said I could crash in their room again, so that is what I did. They went out to enjoy an evening of dinner and drinks until 2am and I enjoyed an early night in, something I certainly deserved after the prior nights fiasco. When they came home they were anything but sober and had the energy of 3 year olds. It will go down as one of the most hilarious displays of drunken behavior I have yet to witness. Two of the guys played this game where they were spies and crawled all over the room, hiding from me and avoiding my spotting them. As I dozed in and out of a sleepy state I would see them doing the weirdest shit, hiding behind curtains and army crawling across the floor. Around 6 am I woke up to one of them half way under my bed. I gave him a massive wedgie, twice, and I guess that meant their defeat because they passed out shortly after. In the morning I helped get the guys packed and out the door because none of them were in very good shape to get shit done. They were off around 8:30am and I had a full day of nothing ahead. While sitting in the common room I spoke with the one crazy Polish guy left who had medical problems. He told me about some business deal he had done with a man in Krakow who ripped him off and had taken his $8,000, which to him, was one full years pay. His English was sparing so it was hard to put the whole story together but what I took away from our conversation was that I should not get worked up about my things being stolen, as this man had lost every bit of savings he had and didn’t know how he was going to pay for further medical help. The day consisted of similar self-reflection as I strolled around the city in the afternoon. It was kind of a gloomy and windy day, I was without a freakin coat, and for the first time ever, I had a little taste of what it felt like to be hungry and have no way of getting food without begging for money. I am grateful for the experience and the way it unfolded. I have so much to be grateful for and can’t imagine having hunger and the inability to acquire money be a prolonged and unknowingly indefinite time period. It was empowering to go through the experience on my own without a friend or man to lean on. To know you are strong enough to make it alone is invigorating.
Monday morning I woke up early and arrived at the US Embassy around 10am. It was the biggest relief to walk through those doors. There was this very tall, 50ish, somewhat overweight man who was helping me. He was so kind and sympathetic, a grandpa equivalent and the kind of man you just wanted to hug. I had held my shit together until he asked if I had money. When I said no, he asked how I’d been eating. That’s when the tears began to roll. He slipped 50 zloty ($15) under the window and told me to go get some coffee and something to eat while he worked on my passport. In the waiting area, there was also a guy who was 20, from Guam, and studying abroad in Rome. He went on a trip with some friends and didn’t lock his locker correctly and had all of his things stolen, including his passport. There was a very upset 27 year old girl standing in line at the window next to mine. She looked exhausted and couldn’t stop crying. I asked if she was ok and if she was hungry. She said yes and I told her I’d be back with coffee and pastries. Guam guy and I walked down the street and found the perfect bakery. I spent my money on 3 coffees and 6 different kinds of delicious pastries. We all three starving, passport less, American kiddos feasted. It was a long awaited moment.
Getting the passport and then doing the cash transfer pretty much took all day.
At 6pm we all three found a hostel and booked a 3 person room. Luckily, the American girl had an extra sweater she didn’t care to give up and donated it to the keep-Lindsey-from-freezing-her-ass-off-in-Krakow fund. We decided to go out and have a drink and eat perogies. After all, we were stuck in Poland. After a good night sleep, we all three woke and went to breakfast. A proper Polish breakfast and countless coffee refills. We sat and talked for over a couple of hours. We went around and around about when and where violence is acceptable and when it is just purely used to bully and appear “cool.” Lets just say the 27 year old female Berkley graduate and I had a very different perspective than the 20 year old male from Guam who’s still very concerned with his popularity status. Interesting conversation to say the least. By the time we were ready to leave I was mentally exhausted and even more thankful my high school days are behind me. I think I’ll homeschool my kids.
I visited the police station two more times just to make sure my purse hadn't been turned in. Both times, with a different officer at the front desk, I was turned away with a head shake and told "No English." They acted as if I was a nuisance and I think somewhat enjoyed turning me away. I was willing to charades communication but that idea clearly didn't stand a chance. So, if you're ever in Krakow and need to speak with a police officer, the chances are slim you will actually get help. I don't know what happened to the guy that helped me the first day I came in to file a report, but he was MIA thereafter.
I paid a driver from our hostel to take me to the airport around 6pm. When he was getting my things out of the car he asked how old I was. I told him 24 and he acted very surprised. He said, “Oh, I thought you were much younger.” I have been told I look no older than 21 many times recently. I’m not really sure what’s going on but I guess I’m ok with it as long as they’re referring to my physical appearance and not my maturity level.
I was worried how I would pay for the city bus when I arrived in Jonkoping. All the Swedish money I had was in my wallet that was stolen. I called the Skavsta airport to ask about the currency exchange office but they said it would be closed by the time I landed in Sweden. Luckily I was able to switch my Polish Zloty for Swedish Kronor at the Krakow airport. It's these little things, if you don't plan ahead of time, that will trip you up and give hell. My flight went well and took off on time so I arrived outside of Stockholm around 11:20pm. My Swebus was leaving Nyköping at 12:10, so when I got off the plane, I walked quickly to catch the bus that would take me to the city center. I had to wait at the bus station for half an hour or so but at least I had a sweater to wear. What the hell was I thinking? When traveling Northern Europe, always bring a jacket and never trust the weatherman.
The Swebus trip was good, however, had I not chosen the seat in front of the x-large, slightly sloppy, male specimen snoring and hacking up mucus the entire trip, I might have actually managed some shut eye. There always has to be one, doesn’t there.
Despite the kinks in my travels, I made some amazing friends, had a few life changing experiences, and learned many lessons. I just booked my ticket to London May 4-8, so another chapter, here I come!
Xo,
L
