Travel
Writer wishes her parents could experience the new Poland.
No longer Poles apart
Winter 2010 |
Krystyna Koskiniemi is a Sudbury writer.
For the majority of my life, Poland was a far-off land situated somewhere over the ocean, on the other side of world.
Five years have passed since my memorable trip to Poland. I am amazed at the impact that journey had on my life. The experience was everything I did not expect and more than I could have ever imagined.
My story begins when my parents fled their beloved country after the Second World War, never to return.
They immigrated to Canada and settled in Northern Ontario. Despite the many challenges, the language barriers, culture adaptation to a new environment and homesickness they welcomed and embraced the opportunity to experience the Canadian dream.
Correspondence between their families continued up until the time of my parents' passing, then sadly the lines of communication unfortunately fell silent.
While every country has had its difficulties, Poland has endured more than most. For years, the Poles were crushed by war and overrun with aggressors; however, thanks to the astounding resilience of the Polish people, they have bounced back from these devastating blows, becoming virtually indestructible.
Since the fall of Communism in 1989 and becoming a member of the European Union in 2004, this little country has made much progress. Today, it is known as one of the success stories of the new Europe with its thriving economy, unleashing entrepreneurial energies that earlier generations would have never thought possible.
My first visions of Poland were passed on through the words of my parents. They shared wonderful pre-war stories, painting vivid pictures of Poland’s beauty, but they struggled with tremendous difficulty whenever there was talk of the war. That part of their lives was left unspoken and largely remained a mystery to me.
I always felt deep affection for Polish traditions and customs, and as the years passed, my attempts in persuading my parents to return to reunite with their families was unsuccessful. They would always reply by saying it was a depressed country and there was nothing for them to return to. Perhaps, at that time, the decision not to return was correct. But, I felt the importance of discovering my roots.
Poland is far from a war-ravaged, poor and depressed country. Cities such as Warsaw and Krakow are flourishing with bright and promising futures. My wish would have been for my parents to see the new Poland, one that has moved forward and past the years of Communist rule, although the ghosts and evil spirits will remain forever.
I was extremely excited to meet my relatives, to put a face on people who I have heard so much about, to hear their stories, and to stand in places my parents stood more than 60 years ago.
On the other hand, I was not excited to learn about the horrors of the war. I was terrified to go to Auschwitz, but I believe it is vital to learn about the millions of people who were brutally murdered. Over one-third of those murdered were Polish citizens including my mother’s youngest sister and distant family members.
It wasn’t until after my visit that I had a better understanding of my parent’s strong spirits and inner strengths, and the true grit of the Polish people.
My first view of Poland was the outskirts of the Warsaw airport, the first stop of a long-awaited trip. As I stepped off of the plane onto Polish soil, an excitement surged through my heart along with a strong sense of pride. Inside of the airport, two extremely welcoming cousins greeted me. After decades of silence, my journey began.
The stretch of road from the airport to the city of Warsaw was beautifully lined with trees. On route to my aunt's, we passed through cities which were totally annihilated or heavily bombed during the war. Today, the major cities of Poland are modern and trendy, offering shoppers designer boutiques, retro shops, bars and large restaurants with menus in both English and Polish. I was surprised to see brand names on skyscrapers such as IBM, Marriott, McDonald's and Coca-Cola. At times, it felt like we were driving through Canadian cities.
The drive along the countryside to Bydgoszcz (the birthplace of my parents) was picturesque; its landscape, trees, climate, lakes are all very similar to Canada. Families were hard at work harvesting their fields, some with extremely ancient machinery, some with used machinery relatively in good condition, some with horses.
At the family homestead, I was received with warmth and compassion by all with the traditional kiss on both cheeks or a kiss on top of my hand. My aunt's (mother’s youngest sister) eyes sparkled as she threw her arms around me and embraced me for what seemed like forever. A truly heartwarming and emotional moment.
The house was lacking some of the modern conveniences we take for granted, but it had a warm and welcoming feeling, with the familiar scent of fried onions and garlic lingering in the air. Family photos dotted the walls, charming knick-knacks and doilies were displayed on wooden antique furniture.
We laughed, cried and ate delicious food such as smoked sliced meats, fresh breads and cheeses, along with plenty of cold beer and vodka.
Family albums were proudly displayed and Polish music flowed through the house. Familiar songs sung by my uncle brought me to tears. These were my most favourite and unforgettable times; there was no talk of hardships, governments or wars. Just evenings filled with plenty of Polish spirit, stories and laughter. It was heartwarming and necessary.
Poland is devoutly Catholic, their faith is embedded deep into their souls, and according to my aunt, and if you are Polish, you are Catholic! Sitting beside my aunt in church brought me back in time to when I was a little girl sitting beside my mother. Their similarities were amazing. Their soft manner, their voices, silky complexion, the same deep-set blue/grey eyes right down to the same hairstyle. I sat quietly in awe.
After mass, the traditional Sunday dinner was prepared. Thick luscious soup, pork cutlets, cabbage rolls and assorted pierogies were served, followed by mouth-watering desserts.
Sightseeing with my relatives was an intense and personal experience. I had the opportunity to view the beauty of Poland through the eyes and hearts of my family as they shared a personal blend of joyful, heartbreaking and moving stories. We visited smaller towns and villages along the Vistula River, a medieval castle in Malbork, and en route to Krakow, we stopped in Czestochowa, the home of The Black Madonna, Poland’s most popular shrine. In addition, thanks to my aunt, we stopped in just about every church along the way.
Krakow was by far one of my favourite cities. A magical city full of history, culture, museums and intrigue dominated by Wawel Hill. The medieval fortification magnificently exhibits Wawel Royal Castel and the Royal Cathedral, the first political centre where the Polish kings were crowned and buried in tombs, crypts and vaults. Buildings that were once occupied by royalty are today packed with art galleries, museums and charming cafes.
Krakow’s Market Square is the focal point of the city, crowded with people enjoying the architectural sights. Cobblestone streets winding through the city connect most of the attractions; it is a great way to soak up the atmosphere and to get up close and personal with the Polish people.
Sukiennice (Cloth Hall) located in the centre of Market Square was originally built for the sale of cloth. Today, this Gothic construction displays Polish art and houses plenty of kiosks offering a variety of fascinating souvenirs.
St. Mary’s Church is one of Poland’s most important places of worship. It truly captivated my attention. I must confess the exterior’s architecture is a bit bizarre looking with its two bell towers unequal in height. An ancient and mournful tune is played daily at noon on the radio recalling the legendary story of the lone trumpeter. I was overwhelmed with both its beauty and spirituality. Its stained glass windows, reflecting the sunlight, glittered like diamonds; the interior was painted in layers of blue, white, gold and silver. It’s 15th century monumental Gothic altar is a magnificent work of art, made in three sections where the two outside sections swing out, displaying gold foil sculptures.
Wielicka Salt mine is one of the world's most ancient mines and has been producing salt for eight centuries. Everything is made of salt. Its tunnels, caves, chapels, including its floors, ceilings, and grand chandelier. The spectacular staircase leads into a massive underground chapel, which is still used for mass. A lift brought us back up to surface, a tight squeeze with no lights. I was not too impressed, squashed into a dark cage that rattled slowly up to surface.
The drive along the outside of Auschwitz stretched on and on and indicated its massive size. It was unbelievable! All fenced in by double-barbed wire fence, made up of more than 300 buildings over 425 acres.
We entered Auschwitz through its famous gate, which read ‘Arbeit Macht Frei,' or ‘Work Makes Free,' where millions of people were brutally murdered. It felt almost eerie as we walked through the silence of the camp, although it reeked of evil and death. Instantly I recalled my father’s words, “with every step, we were stepping on human blood, bones, and ashes,” the tortured souls of innocent people.
Buildings containing large glass enclosed exhibitions of victims' eyeglasses, shoes, prosthetics, suitcases and two tons of human hair. My heart ached. Emotionally, I thought I would be okay, until I came to the display of children’s shoes, but the full impact did not hit until I saw a small display case containing a baby’s bonnet and one single baby bootie. The pain shot through my heart as tears welled up behind my eyes. This was one of the most intense days of my entire trip.
Before my trip, I never felt connected to any of my relatives; they were just people I thought I would never meet. But, since I have shared parts of their lives, I now feel emotionally connected to my family, and especially to my aunt that perished during the Holocaust. Everything became real after years of reading survival stories and watching historical documentaries. My experiences were challenging, strenuous and grueling. I thought I was well prepared for the visit to Auschwitz. Clearly, I was wrong!
I now understand some of the reasons why my parents tried to shield me from the details and their decision not to return. I feel that they would not have approved of my visit to Auschwitz. However, without a doubt, I feel they would approve of visiting their homeland and my incredible feelings of joy and a sense of fulfillment.
This trip deepened my sense of cultural experience and gained a new appreciation for my parents, their families and their history. I feel a sense of national pride towards Poland. I learned of stories never told and discovered the meanings and truths that never would have been known. What I once struggled to imagine, I now visualize and this has helped me put to rest previous uncertainties. What once appeared to be an unapproachable journey enabled me to experience and share a part of Poland I never thought possible.
Connecting with my ancestral roots was rewarding, educational, and most importantly united me with family who lived somewhere on the other side of the world. We are no longer Poles apart. Previously, whenever I was asked my nationality, I would proudly say without hesitation, “I’m Canadian.” Now whenever I’m asked my nationality I say, “I’m Canadian of Polish decent.”
