travel log: warsaw
two days in poland
What’s the difference between Istanbul and Warsaw? The roads are straight in Warsaw, and everyone has a collective bedtime. After 11 PM, the old town is eerily quiet, and the silhouettes of the brick buildings crouch under the night sky.
On the Krakow Boulevard, the one street I got to know well, throngs of postcard pedestrians, smiling and ambling, in no particular hurry, warm themselves on the fading embers of the Christmas Feeling.
It is all the exact opposite of Istanbul. Firstly, Jesus is king, not just a prophet. Cast in bronze all across the city, there’s Jesus carrying the cross, on the cross, and homeless Jesus, stigmata peeking through, asleep on a park bench. Roads criss-cross in grids, and outside my window, opulent but uniform buildings provide a calming symmetry. There are no domes that I can see. The color, compared to Istanbul’s dusty brick red, is a government grey. It’s all quite…nice.
Poland is in right now. People in America dick-riding the country for having strict immigration policies. But if I may tell you a secret, it’s a bit boring here. Maybe that’s my own dopamine-spoiled brain’s demand for the hustle and bustle.
I saw an old friend, and made some new ones too, and the whole experience was at once elevated. I was wrapped up in the warm blanket of friendship after weeks of solo traveling. Thank you to those friends who showed me around and tucked me in.
Food: Zurek (polish meat soup) and pierogi. Immediately pleasing to my soul, it just fits with my DNA. Sour cream courses through my veins and I realize that I come from a culture that I didn’t consciously choose nor think about at all. I wonder how much of my filling, like that divine parcel that is the humble pieróg, is baked in.
