Signs of spring . . .

There is an old Polish saying that if the Christmas tree roots are in ice, Easter will be sunny; but if the Christmas tree's roots are in water, the Easter eggs will roll on ice. Well, I'm hoping this proverb doesn't hold true since we had an unseasonably warm December here in Warsaw, but if this week's weather is any indication, spring has arrived in kielbasa country.

Talking about the weather can be considered sort of a reach when making polite conversation with somebody, but here there are some interesting signs of spring that are not normally found when the weather gets warmer stateside.

As I was wandering around the city this evening (me aimlessly wandering around is a definite sign), I noticed a distinct upsurge in the number of street performers. Tonight, my heart was warmed (no pun intended) by the presence of a couple fire dancers near the city center. I don't know why, but there's just something about a dangerous looking woman twirling chains with firey orbs attached to them. If you tell me to meet you somewhere in the city and I run into a couple of pyrophilic females, chances are good that I'm going to be late.

The ubiquitous (one of my all-time favorite words) accordion man was also sighted. This guy, however, is more of an "all-weather" street performer. In fact, one of the joys of riding the tram cars in Warsaw is the possibility that accordion man will jump on and serenade you on your way home. I think it's an especially lucrative gig for him since the audience is helplessly stationary. This allows him to pass the tin cup in front of all passengers who sooner or later are forced to part with their loose change.

I'm a really big fan of the guys who go above and beyond for the sake of street performance. It's easy to dust off the guitar, violin, pan flute, saxophone, or even mime make-up kit and make some quick zlotys pounding the pavement around Warsaw. But it takes a special breed to get some friends up off the couch and form a street band. Not only do you have to get everybody motivated, but the more friends you have at your gig, the more guys you have to split the money with. Here's a pic of my good friend Scrote in front of some hard-working Poles last fall.

Speaking of Scrote, his name came up in my health class today. For the second consecutive trimester, I've been entrusted with the delicate task of educating the international youth community about puberty and sexuality. One of our vocab words was "scrotum" and, of course, I couldn't let this go by without mentioning one of the key differences between males and females . . . the use of nicknames. That's all I have to say on that subject.


I am looking forward to Wednesday's class when we will have a special guest speaker talk about his experiences with both the prostate exam and vasectomy. It is bound to be a riveting lecture from one of my most trusted and respected colleagues.

I think that's an appropriate note to "end" on, don't you? But for your own amusement, go to google images, type in "prostate exam", and see what pops up. Whatever proctologists make, it just isn't enough. I'm hoping that in the next 8 years, they will have found a less invasive way of screening for prostate cancer.

Do widzenia moj' colegos!

Mark