"You could stay here, and fill your life with work, and food, and sleep. Or you could go, anywhere.” - Dr. Who

There are two main rules I learned about traveling in Poland: 1) You better know how to ride a bike, and 2) Just buy a regular train ticket, not a student one.

I’ve never been much of a bike rider, but everyone else in my study abroad group was, and when they had the bright idea to ride bikes to Płaszów I was forced to tag along, not wanting to admit that my two wheeled skills were sub-par. Somehow, everything seemed to be going fine. We had rented bikes from a little shop in the Stare Miasto, and I managed not to hit anyone on our way out of town (I still can’t figure out how I managed that). It wasn’t until we were crossing the street and navigating between concrete pillars that things got a little…bumpy. I saw a woman pushing a stroller on the sidewalk, not paying a bit of attention to the swerving American on a bike way too large for her. In an attempt at heroism, I sacrificed myself, hitting the concrete pillar rather than running over the baby. I flipped over my handlebars and landed on my back, my pride more bruised than my body. Some cute Polish boys running a golf cart tour stared, unsure whether to laugh or run to my aid. All I could see was the sky and the faces of my classmates, skillfully dismounting their bikes and making sure I was okay. I was and we continued on the 5+ mile journey to Płaszów, and I have yet to ride a bike since. So if you’re like me and find the idea of a bicycle daunting, get over it and learn! Unless you want rip a hole in your favorite jeans, then by all means, don’t.

(Pictured left) A group of students on a bike tour through Kraków. On the photo, they are just about to cross one of the bridges connecting Podgórze and Kazimierz. In the far back, in red shirt Taylor Tampa.

My second tip is to not be cheap when it comes to the train. Some of my friends and I decided to travel to Gdansk for the weekend, and we thought we’d be clever and buy student tickets. Technically we were students, just of a university on the other side of the world. We still qualified for the discount, right? Wrong. We learned that the hard way when the lady on the train who checks tickets (I’m sure she has a title, I just don’t know what it was) began speaking in Polish so rapidly, waving our tickets in our faces and scolding us, I’m sure. Our faces were panicked, unable to follow what she said as we tried to explain our situation in what Polish we knew. Although I technically knew the most Polish of the group, I had frozen in shock and just gaped at the angry train lady. Luckily, a fellow train car passenger took pity on us and translated what was going on. Apparently our student status didn’t qualify, but since we did an excellent job of looking pitiful, we wouldn’t be kicked off the train. So my advice to you is, just spend the extra money and buy the ticket you know without a doubt will work. (Taylor Tampa)

(Pictured left) A ballon ride over Kraków, June 2011. On the photo, Taylor Tampa is in the middle.

I try to travel with minimum luggage and to be easy-going. I scoffed a little at the other kids for getting sick and being tired, but toward the end in Gdansk I did get very sick so I guess exhaustion of non-stop learning and seeing caught up with me a little at the end. But positive attitude is key. Just going with the flow on the bus/train and not worrying about what’s next. European public transportation is usually better in the US which is always a plus. (Natalie Greifer)

(Pictured left) Town Square in Zamość. In June 2015, a group of students from UM-Dearborn enjoyed a very tasty dinner there while looking at the beautiful square. This was on our way back from Bełżec to Lublin.

This is the part where I say, if you’re with a group going from one place to another, stay with them. There’s safety in numbers, and when you’re not fluent in the language getting lost is twice as difficult. I learned a lesson about keeping an eye on your things when I left a cafe in Krakow without my backpack, inside were my computer and camera. I doubled back twenty minutes later to find they were still there safe but I cannot imagine what I would have done had I not found them. (Chris Wasinski)

(Pictured left) Exhausting trip from Lublin to Łódź on the bus, June 2015. The sleeping girl in the front is Taylorann. The girl who is laughing is Natalie.

Referring back to what I said before this trip began, today I faced one fear I have dealt with in small steps throughout this whole month. I really do not like heights, especially walking on stairs. I actually would get ill feeling just being on the third floor of the CASL building on the atrium walkways. On this trip we have been on many hard to maneuver staircases (the obstacle course in the Wawel bell tower comes to mind…) and plenty of high places (like on the Lublin castle tower), and so far I have lived. After climbing a steep hill in shoes without any grip, sitting outside the guard railing at the point where that hill led, and then sliding down the hill at the risk of my ankles, today I decided to go somewhat thoughtlessly up the bell tower of St. Mary’s Cathedral with our small group. Besides the simple exhaustion of climbing hundreds of stairs, I felt pretty traumatized by the massive opening in the center of the tower, the thought of the seemingly unsupported stairs breaking at any moment, and the idea of being stuck at any point on the stairs too anxious to climb back down. Yet I made it up, and, with some deep breathing and careful stepping, back down as well. I guess this was what adrenaline felt like, because I still felt in shock an hour or so later! So long as I end up uninjured and alive, fears like these are just weaknesses, and so I want to crush them, one tower at a time.

(Post-trip thought: I went on to ride the Ferris wheel a couple days later. I don’t know how much the view is worth being suspended over death in a dangling box! And nearly a month later I still feel stressed out when thinking about that tower climb…) (Jonathan Vartanoff)

"I am here. Those three words contain all that can be said–you begin with those words and you return to them. Here means on this earth, on this continent and no other, in this city and no other, in this epoch I call mine, this century, this year. I was given no other place, no other time, and I touch my desk to defend myself against the feeling that my own body is transient. This is all very fundamental, but, after all, the science of life depends on the gradual discovery of fundamental truths.” - Czeslaw Milosz

I’m taking a class on Goethe now and he was both an intellectual and hedonist. He thought learning this was valuable because knowing about things allows you to enjoy and appreciate things more. My approach to history is relatable.

I love to travel, eat/cook, read, and knowing history allows me to appreciate these things more because I understand the where/why/how of why these buildings, foods, literature, aspects of culture came about. Just seeing what is on the surface is not living consciously or existentially, and is kind of wasteful just to go by in life without penetrating the meaning of the everyday or seeing how that relates to past and other cultures. Anyway, what was so awesome about Poland is that we were learning about everything as we saw it. Nothing is cooler than visiting a real life place after doing a reading/having a discussion about it and connecting the dots. One of the coolest things was meeting the son of one of the main leaders in the Warsaw Uprising and hearing him talk right after I read Jan Karski’s book where he writes about the father, meeting Lech Wałęsa after discussing Solidarity, and touring Wawel Castel after talking about German Occupation there. (Natalie Greifer)

(Pictured right) Meeting with Lech Wałęsa, Gdańsk 2015. From the right, Jonathan, Natalie, Rebecca, Christopher. On his left, Taylorann, Kathrina and Ryan.

Poland was a trip where you really learned more about yourself. There’s nothing quite like being put into a plane and being separated from all the things back home whether they be things you love or the problems you had. I also was thrown out of my element as an American, while there were still familiar brands and foods surrounding me, there were also strange and unknown shops and culture that I had never stumbled across. My time spent there was a learning experience across the spectrum both cultural and personally that I would go through again in a heartbeat. (Chris Wasinski)

(Pictured right) A barack of children from Zamość, Birkenau

I was forced to be uncomfortable and because I could do nothing about it until I came home, I was content with it. I have certainly grown in appreciation for Poland (I loved every day there, I have no regrets about this trip), and would like to someday return (perhaps after learning a good amount of the language), and I have also had many opportunities to learn about people and the nature of history, but perhaps most importantly I have gained a new sense of self. I better know my strengths, one of which being a newly built ability to fight my fears. I know that there are things I think I would never do—like join a study abroad—that perhaps I should. I believe myself capable of many things. (Jonathan Vartanoff)

(Pictured right) Milena Wicepolska discussing the Jewish ghetto in Litzmanstadt.

I’m rather obsessed with World War II and the Katyn massacre, for some reason unknown to me, and when we traveled to Gdansk to meet our professor, Pani Ania, and visit the WWII museum she worked for, I totally geeked out. While there, we were able to hold (wearing gloves, of course) actually items that had been found or donated to the museum from concentration camps. We held miniature carvings, no bigger than my thumbnail, that a Jewish woman had whittled from a toothbrush. We saw the uniforms of the Nazi officers, a side table from their headquarters, and a bust of Hitler himself. One of the most gut wrenching moments was when we were able to look at items found in the mass graves from the Katyn massacre – the helmets and medals of the Polish officers (among others) who had been murdered, their bodies dumped. It’s one thing to learn about these events from a textbook or a movie, but another entirely to hold them in your hands, to stand inside a gas chamber, to see for yourself the horror that had taken place in that country. It’s a feeling that I will never forget. (Taylor Tampa)

(Pictured right) Jan Szkudliński at the WWII Museum, Gdańsk 2015. Janek invited students to the archives, where they could see most precious artifacts.

In praise of the not-so-morbid:

There’s an untold difference when you enter a Polish cemetery verses when you enter an American one. A cemetery is a cemetery right? Some big empty park where dead people get buried and then maybe the family brings flowers for a few years on anniversaries. But in Poland, it’s different. Firstly, the cemeteries are old, cooly shaded by a canopy of trees and carpeted by a layer of soft green moss. The graves too different, massive and solid, usually raised family graves, often engraved with pictures of the deceased in addition to the usual names and dates. But what struck me most wasn’t the trees or huge monuments. Glowing in the many fairy-like candle flames, vibrant in the well cared-for flower beds, and whispering softly in the crunch of footsteps as family navigate the labyrinth of stones, the continued love and remembrance of the dead was so strong, calming, beautiful. Maybe it’s just me, just my city, but I’d never before felt a graveyard like this. Silly, morbid, weird to reflect on? Sure, but the things I took away with me from Poland weren’t only a vastly deeper understanding of the world wars or post-war era, but also a multitude of tiny surprisingly beautiful moments.

Apropo cemeteries though, (and I promise the whole trip wasn’t morbid!) there was also a very cool graveyard in Gdansk, though not quite what one would expect. Here there aren’t any people buried but rather the gravestones themselves have been here given final rest. Called “Cmentarz Nieistniejących Cmentarzy” (The Cemetery of Lost Cemeteries), this memorial is a small collection of broken stones to honor those people once burried in the many cemeteries destroyed or bulldozed in Gdansk’s turbulent history.

“Here there be dragons.” Quite literally. When we first arrived in Krakow, jetlagged and none of us quite sure why we were there and whether or not if had all been a really bad idea, the first thing I remember seeing was a dragon, the symbol of Krakow. (Taylorann Lenze)

(Pictured right) Jewish Cemetery in Łódź.

The Green Balloon is more than a cabaret. With a history that stretches back a hundred years and a cliental that included such luminaries as Tadeusz Boy-Żeleński, the place has a heavy atmosphere of time and stories. What better place then for drinks and discussing the legacy of futurist and modernist writers and 1800s Krakow. After reading about the scandals and topics of the day, we wandered the historic restaurant and could see the artist’s own gaudy works and sketches still encrusting most every vertical surface. While we were there, there was a sort of folk performance in the background, adding another layer of culture and continuity. Some things don’t change much.

(Pictured right) A meeting in a synagogue in Kraków

As a history student, I’ve been thinking a lot about how significant imagination is in our work. I have always found it difficult attempting to understand human experience through text, but now I am surprised to find that it may be easier to do so with a book than when visiting historic places. Of the two Holocaust sites we visited today, Płaszów was far simpler and easier to understand: I saw the outline of the camp, touched the plants, and felt the heat of the Polish sun. Based on my knowledge of concentration camps, I could more easily imagine the space as it was (or as I believe it was). In a way the outline of the camp was comparable to the incomplete canvas we are made to fill with images and interpretations as we read. But the ghetto was far more challenging as the space is occupied by a transformed version of what used to be. Our guide spoke of certain people who lived in particular buildings, but it was impossible to transform the living Podgórze of 2015 back to its 1940s state. It makes me realize that life perpetually moves forward no matter how interested we may be in taking a moment to study what lies before us. Despite our interest in any particular event, we grow forever at a distance from it. Thus in many ways history is simply imagination, and I feel that these places we study only remain in the minds of those who care enough to allow them life. (Jonathan Vartanoff)

“You get lost out of a desire to be lost. But in the place called lost strange things are found…” ― Rebecca Solnit

“Well this isn’t what we expected.” That was the main exclamation shared as we lugged suitcases uphill to our Lublin hostel, tired from a long day traveling and were dazed by the “quiet, charming, eastern town” lit up and booming like an outdoor disco in the should-be darkness. Electric guitarists performing while dangling from rappelling lines off the city hall building in the center of the old town. Bars and restaurants overflowing with students and animated conversations yelled over the loud music. One of our professors rushed around distributing earplugs in a panic so we could somehow sleep through the noise and be alive for an early meeting the next day, but I don’t think many of us were too worried about sleeping. It was one of the unexpectedly fun moments when our group really came together and had an amazing night talking, exploring and getting to know one another. (Taylorann Lenze)

(Pictured left) Breakfast and good conversations in Lublin. Natalie is the first on the right. Past Natalie, Ryan, Chris, Grace, Taylorann, Marty and Josh.

For me at least, but I think most other people as well, I had no expectations in regard to the cities in Poland and the beauty of the countryside in the South. While the same places (London, Paris, Rome, the Alps, Tuscany) are usually over-romanticized in literature and in people’s minds as the pinnacle of Western civilization and European natural beauty, the beauty of coming to somewhere like Poland is that, even though I had already taken a class and knew a bit about Polish history, I had no idea as to what actually being there was going to be like. I didn’t know if it was going to be beautiful, what landmarks there were, how developed it was going to be, where buildings were going to look communist and where it wasn’t, etc. I found myself constantly surprised by lovely details- the university rooftop garden in Warsaw, people relaxing on the banks of the Vistula, medieval Krakow, the good pan-european food and carbs, and especially the mountains in Zakopane. It was nice how Polish cities aren’t the kind where you hit five well-know tourist destinations (Eiffel Tour, Louvre, Arc de Triumph, etc.) and then don’t know what to do after. So discovering the cities was always surprising and fun. (Natalie Greifer)

(Pictured left) Taylorann in front of an icon in the museum at the Lublin Castle. The trip to the Museum at Lublin Castle was organized outside our mandatory trips. And the treasures that we found there amazed as all...

One of my favorite things to do in Poland was to explore the Stare Miasto by myself. I can be quite introverted when I want to be, so the idea of finding a hole in the wall coffee shop and ordering some szarlotka and whatever coffee drink that didn’t actually taste like coffee excited me. I found two different shops hidden in back alleys that branched away from the Stare Miasto (and a cupcake shop, but that’s another story). I couldn’t find them again if I tried, but they were quite delightful, and I found myself searching for a new one as often as I could. The Stare Miasto itself is filled with vendors showing off their art, as well as random events that seemed to take place spontaneously.

While I was there, I watched some sort of play where the people were dressed in mascot-type costumes (I’m still not sure what was going on there), and on another day, I saw the end of a bike race that seemed to bring out half the city. It was different experiencing the city alone versus in a group. Sometimes you just need to know that you can make it on your own. If I had taken the wrong bus or gotten kicked off a train in an unknown city, I felt confident that I could find my way back (or at least survive long enough for someone to find me). Poland can teach you a lot about yourself, if you give it the chance. (Taylor Tampa)

(Pictured left) Anna and Taylor during a moment of bliss in a muffin shop in Kraków.

For the love of coffee –

You wander just around a corner from the main square, enter through a door tucked away on the side of the building, weave around bookshelves and eclectic furniture, dodge a dangling swing (or swing for a second, no judgement), and suddenly you find yourself in the heart of Między Słowami, one of the coziest, most artistically elegant cafés in my known world (and no, that’s not a hyperbole). Whereas Poland may be better known for Żubrówka, may have stayed warm over cups of tea during the cold war era, and may still offer Kompot at milk bars, coffee shops newly dot the cities like little islands of calm. Yes, there are chains (Coffeeheaven, Costa and Starbucks exist) but tucked into every corner you’ll find small independent, roasteries and cafés, each with a very unique focus and vibe. Lublin’s Między Słowami (which incidentally means between words) wasn’t the only café to refuse to vacate my memory. Kraków and Gdańsk were full, as was Warszaw, each with its own charm. (Taylorann Lenze)

(Pictured left) Taylorann in Między Słowami, Lublin.

(Pictured left) Marty and Rebecca at the roof of the University Library

Chopin: The best things in life are free.

I came late, breathless, slightly frazzled after having last minute slipped into a Polish Sunday mass downtown and feeling now ripped from the prayerful calm to catch my tram, triumphant at having navigated Warsaw transit independently, and disorientated as my thoughts spread apart like ripples on the surface of the reflection pool now before me. I wasn’t even sure the concert was real (having only half-seen a polish add online), wasn’t sure how it could be free (no such thing as a free lunch right?) and wasn’t sure how I could find my friends in the undulating mass of people (ok, so I guess this is real, I remember thinking) relaxing in the grass around the Chopin fountain in the sunny Park Łazienkowski. But then the music started. I found my friends soon, and found a spot on the still dew- dampened grass, but both faded quickly as the only things that mattered were the sun and sound. And the sound was powerful. Chopin, who we learned the day before had lived in Warsaw (losing his piano to the Nazis), whose monument now towered above us in the powerful fury of bronze(?) stormclouds, whose music played continuously throughout the city from benches, had never felt more real or magical to me than that hour as his music welled over the assembled tourists and locals in this outdoor concert. It was a moment of calm, one of those times when I can feel my body relaxing and the tension of so much travel and study draining away and breathe in the miraculousness of the fact that wow, I’m in Poland. In Poland! And at the moment, I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else. (Taylor Lenze)

(Pictured left) Chopin Concert in the Łazienki Królewkie, Warszawa. On the right is visible a corner of the Chopin Statue where the piano and the pianist are located.

When having down time in Poland, it’s easy to get caught up in doing what the group is doing whether it be exploring a new pub or restaurant. Most of my time was spent either with a friend or two or often times on my own exploring the different coffee shops and bookstores that covered the various cities in Poland. There was no experience quite like sitting in the window of a coffee house/bookstore sketching my thoughts into artwork and staring out into a small city road complete with cobblestones with the aroma of coffee dancing into my nostrils. (Chris Wasinski)

It was raining, cold, we were all tired and in the last days of an intense period of study and travel, and here were, paddling frantically, racing one another through downtown Gdansk—on the river in kayaks. I was lucky—paired with an 11-year-old with serious tree-climbing upper body strength—and we laughingly splashed the kayak just behind us. As the storm continued to build and it looked like the drizzle would at any moment become a serious, we turned back and those of us who weren’t already soaked dived into the water just before running aground (though we never quite knew if their “spontaneous fun” was a clover up for accidentally capsizing). With everything against us—weather and exhaustion and the normal stressors from being with the same people for 4 straight weeks—kayaking was such a giddily hilarious break from tours and seriousness. I remember someone buying the richest, explode-in-your-mouth strawberries from a market stand and all of us eating them on the way home as rain poured around us and then an afternoon warm and dry in a café reading and editing pictures. (Taylorann Lenze)

(Pictured left) Kayaking in Gdańsk, 2015.

As someone who really enjoyed basketball as a kid but hasn’t had much opportunity to practice since, I really miss the sport. Yesterday I wandered with Grace through the park near our hostel and saw the most gorgeous basketball court I ever met. Life would have been much easier if I somehow found an athletics shop, but instead I was going to have to try to play a pickup game with non-English speakers and hope for the best. I felt like spending some time alone after the ghetto and cemetery tour today and so I decided I would go see if I could actually manage to play. There were a few groups already there: a few kids playing soccer, two playing basketball, and another pair that looked a few years on either side of my age playing basketball as well. I entered the cage, made eye contact with one as I passed by, nodded, and said “How’s it going?” He stared expressionless back. I have found that nodding at someone does not often pass for acknowledgment in this country. I then went and took a seat at the back of the cage and watched for a bit, planning my attack. Eventually someone else came and joined their group, presumably a close friend. They played for a bit, and then hopped around and pretended to shoot without the ball (not sure what was going on there). Eventually the original two sat down and the third one was shooting alone. I approached him, he gave me a strange look, I put my hand up in a “Hello/pass me the ball” kind of symbol. He did, we alternated shots three times, and then he grabbed the ball and sat down. I thought it was strange, went back to my spot, and eventually left. Not much of a story, but I made an effort to do something with the locals! At the very least I can say I played basketball in Poland, but not very much. (Jonathan Vartanoff)