The best things about growing up.

Puberty. The word strikes fear into every middle school student's heart. And those of us who have lived through this adolescent phenomenon can testify to the horror of these "changes" they talk about in health class. Yes, it's that time again for me. No, I'm not actually going through a second bout of pubescence, but as a health teacher, I get to discuss it in great detail each trimester. Recently, I asked my students to list their Top Ten Great Things About Growing Up. Here are some amusing responses:

1. Freedom from strict rules.
2. Driving. (They've obviously never sat in a Warsaw traffic jam.)
3. No school!
4. Go pubs/clubs to drink. (Already thinking about this at age 11? Scary!)
5. Getting to go to R-rated movies.
6. Going to the mall by yourself.
7. Buying your own choice of pets.
8. Getting a fun job. (My kids think at least 60% of people love their job.)
9. Having a better body shape / bigger and more muscles. (Every adult has muscles!)
10. Getting a tattoo. (Can't wait to get that Euro symbol on my bicep.)

"Shall we see the sea?" she said sheepishly.

Back from a wonderful tour of the Polish seaside towns of Gdansk and Sopot. Gdansk comes in a close second to Krakow as coolest city in Poland. It holds a special significance in Polish history as being the birthplace of the Solidarity labor union, which was the first of its kind behind the Iron Curtain. I've heard they have an excellent museum dedicated to "Solidarnosc'" and how it led to the end of Communism in Eastern Europe, but I opted out of this visit in deference to moja dziwczyna, Luiza. It would've been torture for her to submit to a Polish history lesson on such a beautiful weekend. In her words, "I don't need to spend such time walking around with huge pictures of Lech Walesa staring at me." Point taken : ) I really have no frame of reference for comparison. Maybe it would be like me visiting Samuel Gompers Park in Chicago or the Teamsters Freight Transportation Museum. I don't really think the Teamsters did much to alter the course of world events, however.

Sopot, the quaint city with white sand beaches and no shipyard was where we chose to stay for the four day holiday weekend. It is also home of Molo, the largest wooden pier in Europe. Every city is always trying to claim something as the biggest, longest, highest, etc. In fact, there is a great website dedicated to roadside attractions in the U.S. called The Gallery of Huge Beings. For some reason, my home state of Minnesota is contains more than its fair share of fiberglass statues.

It was a great opportunity to unwind before making the final push toward summer. We did a whole helluva lot of nothing productive, one could say. It was all one continuous stretch of walking, talking, sitting, people watching, basking, eating, and drinking.

Oh, I did get to watch the Sopot 7's rugby tournament and also invented a new game called "Polish or not Polish". It's funny to hear Luiza describe for me the reasons she thinks somebody looks "typical Polish" while I explain the importance of footwear and dental health on determining country of origin.

Before I go, I would like to plug a blog I've been reading called The Polandian. This contains some really insightful commentary on Polish culture and also links to obsure youtube vids that have some relevance to my adopted homeland. Maybe I shouldn't tell you about it so I am free to propagate some its literary material as my own. If Big Dan Bergan and Penny Tingstad are reading this . . . I'm only kidding! Plagiarism is a serious crime kids.

Here's a great clip of heavy metal legends Iron Maiden playing a Polish wedding back in 1984. Thanks to the guys (and gals?) at Polandian:

The mortgage crisis and the price of a piwo.

Let's jump in the Way Back Machine and set the dial to August of 2006. A wide-eyed American is in his first month of employment at AS-Dub and life is good. The benefits of working overseas are quickly realized due in no small part to a tax-free income in dollars, rent paid by the school, and a relatively cheap cost of living when compared to life back in the US of A.

"Way back then" you could buy 3.1 zlotys (Polish currency) for $1.00 and a pint of beer at one of those clubs with no-necked bouncers and a velvet rope cost around 10 zloty (about $3.20). It felt good to know that every fine restaurant and swanky bar in Warsaw was accessible to the common man. Well, maybe not to the common man, but to the common foreigner.

My rental allowance also covered my monthly living expenses (about $900). I even had a little bit left over to pay my electric bill. Not one penny of my apartment cost came out of my pocket. *sigh* I was living the high life.







I know what you're thinking. Next, he's going to give some pitiful sob story about the crash of the dollar due to the mortgage crisis and how life is sooooo tough now. WRONG! On the contrary, I am still very much in love with life over here, thank you very much. I am dating an amazing woman, fulfilling my travel dreams, and working at a world-class school.

The point of this financial analysis is to give you some perspective of how fortunes rise and fall given the fate of the U.S. economy. You read the Kielbasa because I hope you find it interesting, right? The correlation between Joe Blow trying to afford a $400,000 4 bedroom house on a $50,000 salary and the skyrocketing price of beer in Poland is nothing if not fascinating.






So fast forward to present-day Warsaw. Today, the currency is trading at 2.17 zloty for $1.00. The same beer is costing around 15 zloty ($6.90) due to Warsaw's deluded vision of being on par with other European Union capitals. This represents an astonishing 215% increase in 18 months. Just typing these numbers makes my pulse quicken and brow sweaty.

If the cost of a pint wasn't tough enough to absorb, I am now paying an additional $344 to supplement what the school gives me for my rent. Alright, it's not so bad since it only averages out to an extra $98 / month since I moved here. Damn . . . I'm usually such an upbeat person but now I wouldn't mind having a Pez dispenser full of Prozac. Okay, on the bright side, there is a place down the street where I can still find a 5 zloty piwo so upon paying my rent every month I can go drown my sorrows while planning my next travel destination.

I listened to an interesting episode of This American Life from NPR that explains the mortgage crisis using stories of ordinary people. Check it out here. By the way, I never thought I would become so addicted to NPR. Just one more thing I have in common with my parents as I grow older. I remember when the only thing we had in common was a last name. ; )

I hope all my stateside readers enjoy the Memorial Day weekend. Take the time to remember the true reason for Monday's holiday. If your here in Polska, enjoy the long four-day break from your daily grind. If you're not of the religious ilk, find out why you have a holiday so you can impress all of your Catholic friends. Na razie!

Hungry and Slow . . .

The first in what I hope will be a long line of visitors in 2008 arrived last week. KyAn (spelled wrong so nobody can Google her, inside joke) a "she-friend" from way back in the days when I was spending an inordinate amount of time ordering from Pizza Patrol after polishing off another sixer of Old Style. Yes, the Fargo days.

Ahhh, college. The formative years. The chief value in higher education is, as George Edwin Howes said, "It's the only way to learn that it doesn't really matter." That's not to say I didn't learn a lot during my years on the great plains of North Dakota, but most of the knowledge I gained was found outside the lecture hall. Which leads me to another great quotation from that most profound of philosophers, Anonymous. "If all of the students who slept through lectures were laid end to end, they'd all be a lot more comfortable." Anonymous sure was a witty guy. Too bad he also had a hard time staying off the sauce.

While some may long to press rewind on life's VCR (that's what we had in the early 90's, kids) and go back to those days of dorms, dining halls, and debauchery, we at the Chronicle are comfortable in our soon to be mid 30's skin. It's not too bad chasing trains, reclining in Hungarian thermal baths, and swilling wine in the Slovenian countryside. I will readily admit that I'm not so hellbent on sampling the nightlife as much as I used to be. However, I derive a rush of endorphins from just deciphering bus / train time tables in the hopes of arriving at my appointed destination on time. It's not as easy as it sounds, folks. Trust me.

From Warsaw to Vienna to Budapest to Lake Balaton to Slovenia in a week with a 14 hour train ride back to Warsaw (switch trains twice) thrown in just to build character.

Seeing my bitter Croatian friend, Darko, in Vienna was a great beginning to the trip. Why is he bitter, you ask? Because he's Croatian! That's a little dig at him only because he is constantly trumpeting the virtues of his homeland while relentlessly ripping on my grandmother's birthplace. If there is one thing that former Yugoslavs enjoy, it's ethnic strife.

But the real highlight of the trip was the wine tasting at Saksida winery in the Vipava valley near the northern border with Italy. I will let the pictures speak for themselves:

We will be back . . .

Just a note to tell you, dear readers, that the Chronicle will be back in full force this week. Lots of news to report. Just finished with an epic journey through Hungary and Slovenia. Many pics to come. So hold tight. When I get done wading through my gargantuan pile of laundry which must be subdivided into eight or so European piles that are more easily digestible, I will sit down and compose my next hackjob. : )