Coexistence

My train was 3 hours late, so I was rather ready to get out of my second- hand Slovenian sleeper compartment as the train finally neared the Capital of Macedonia. I had read a lot about the country, and heard it constantly spoken of as the birthplace of Old Church Slavonic by Slavic linguistics majors who I knew. As the train crested the hill, and the skyline of Skopje came into view I was shocked to count 2 short church steeples and 8 towering minarets.
While I have been to both heavily Muslim and Christian countries around the globe, no city so effectly blurs the lines between the two like Skopje. While the two populations live distinctly in different neighborhoods overlap occurs throughout the city. Women in burkhas, and men in prayer caps walk in front of the site where Mother Teresa was born. Bars and advertisements for the local beer abound in the Christian section of the city, but are conspicuously absent in the Albanian-Turkish neighborhood on the hill across the river, where it is common to see restaurants with Arabic names. It was a surreal feeling to hear the ringing of the church bells join with the call to prayer.
In many other Balkan countries , Orthodox and Muslim groups have turned to violence.

Although I have heard that there is some tension beneath the surface in Macedonia the two groups, while largely segregated, seem to live in relative peace. I simply point out that the city of Skopje stands as an example that such piece is possible in the Balkans and elsewhere..

A new perspective on Serbia

With a stomach full of French toast, a traditional Slovak dish, and home-made brandy, I bid farewell to my friend’s family, and set out for Serbia uncertain of what I would find. All my life I had heard stories of two different Serbias. I had heard stories of a beautiful country that was worth seeing, as well as of a country full of embittered, amoral and dishonest people. Both versions were wrong. I arrived in Belgrade late at night and checked into the hotel. The next morning I set out to see the city. I was excited to see the city which is famous for its ambiance. In short, Belgrade is the least continental city I have been to in Europe thus far. At many points if it were not for the Cyrillic signage I would have felt as if I were somewhere in the Inland Empire east of Los Angeles. The nicest parts of the city reminded me of old town Pasadena. That said, while I was only there for a short time I found the city to be very liveable.
It was intresting to see how the decade-old Kosovo conflict affected Belgrade. There are still a few buildings that lie in ruins from the NATO bombings. However there does not seem to be much municipal remorse regarding the ethnic cleansing in that province. In fact the only mention of that time period which I came across was a memorial to the children killed during the NATO bombings.
The only sight worth going out of your way for is Tito’s grave and museum. While the grave itself is unremarkable, the museum itself is fascinating. One really gets a feel for how Tito kept the various ethnic groups of Yugoslavia together.
While I was somewhat underwhelmed by the sights, the unexpected bright spot of Serbia turned out to be the people. Everyone I met in Serbia was polite and helpful. When I was confused regarding the train reservation system, one lady stepped in, told me how much a reservation was, and helped explain my situation to the conductor. After speaking to him in Serbian, she told me to follow him, and that he would find me a private sleeping compartment.
Sometimes the things we hear are not always accurate. My experience in Serbia would appear to illustrate this point. It is best not to judge based only on what you hear. In order to truly understand a situation you must see for yourself.

It's Not Greek

Starting from Middle School world history, American youth are taught about how Alexander the Great forged the Greek empire. Ironically, many Americans have never heard of the country which actually formed this territory.
The main square of Skopje in the Republic of Macedonia features a large statue of Alexander the Great, who built his empire after his father, Phillip II of Macedonia essentially conquered Hellenistic Greece.
While forging one of the largest empires in history isn’t a bad track record, the size and influence of Macedonia has had nowhere to go but down since that time. In the late 19th century Greece annexed the southern section of Macedonia and summarily decided that their section of Macedonia was the only legitimate one. Since Macedonia declared independence, this has lead to some disputes between the two countries. First of all Greece strenuously objects to the face that the Macedonians actually dare to call their country Macedonia. Even though the Macedonians agreed to adopt the official name ‘"the former Yugoslav republic of Macedonia," the Greeks still demand that the Macedonians cease continuing to describe themselves as such.

The original flag of Macedonia was a 16 pointed sun, of the type used by the ainchant empire. The Greek reaction was so strong (Greece actually levied a trade embargo against Macedonia over this) that the Macedonians eventually changed their flag and money.
In practice none of greece’s complaints have deterred the Macedonians. The old flag is still widely flown from homes kiosks and private boats, and the country is refered to simply as “ the republic of Macedonia, even on the money.
While the amount of arguing over something as simple as a name may seem out of proportion. Given the history of the two countries it make complete since. By demanding to be recognized simply as Macedonia, the people of that republic demand that their territory and role in history be recognize. However, in recognizing this fact Greece would be forced to publically admit that greek Macedonia is not originally Greek. This would also imply that Greece’s role in aiinchant history was somewhat more minor than they currently claim.

Before coming to the country of Macedonia I was somewhat aware of this situation. When my Classiscs professor gave a lecture about the Greek empire, I raised the question of the nationality of it’s King. After a few seconds of science my professor began to respond. His answer to my question was a long explanation which essentially amounted to “Alexander was Greek. Well, not really Greek, but close enough.” This confused response illustrates how the fact of Macedonian identity has yet to be widely recognized in the Western world.

The Power of Faith

When thinking of the world’s largest statue of Jesus Christ, images quickly come to mind of Rio De Janeiro’s Christ The Redeemer poised majestically over the city. However, the largest statue of the son of God is actually situated on the outskirts of Świebodzin, Poland. It is in a field across from the local Tesco. The Statue, entitled Christ the King, was completed last winter and was the dream of a local priest. Many Poles actually have expressed dislike for it complaining that it is tacky. There is still some argument as to which statue is actually bigger, as Brazil’s statue would still be larger if one doesn’t include the Man-made mound on which Christ the King sits. While in Poznań, I made the trip to this small town in western Poland to decide for myself.
Despite its size, the statue's out of the way location makes it hard to find. It seems an incongruous image to see such a large statue in a dusty agricultural field. The statue is never going to get many points for majesty of setting, or for quality of artwork and craftsmanship. It is clearly what could be built where it could be built. On the other hand, the fact that one town parish could build the largest statue of Jesus in the world, or even the mound it sits on, with nothing more than personal donations, makes quite a strong statement about the faith of the people who made this dream a reality. This statue stands, not only as a memorial to Christ’s life, but also as a testament to the power of belief in the present day. It reminds us that faith, no matter what god you belive in, is still important and powerful, even when not placed above our heads for all to see. While the debate about which statue is physically larger will most likely continue to rage, I can say with certainty that Christ the King, makes a powerful statement, not only through its size, but also through its story.

Polish Trains

Although I have spent a good deal of time in Poland, this year was my first time navigating the unbelievably complicated wonder that is the Polish railways system on my own. While most counties have one national service provider, Poland has two. The first , PKP, is a subsidiary of the national railways, while the other Przywozy Regionalne, is a private company and often the cheaper of the two. PKP sells tickets for both companies. There are also PR offices, which only sell PR tickets. To further complicate matters, there are multiple kinds of tickets for each company. From my travels this year here are some of the things I have learned the hard way about the Polish train tickets:
• Even if the signage says otherwise, PKP always sells ‘Regio’ tickets.
• If you buy a ticket from one company for the other it will still be printed on in the boarding card of the company you bought it from. Don’t let this fool you. The actual company and kind of ticket is denoted by unintelligible codes printed on the ticket.
• ‘Osobowy’( train with no seat reservations) tickets are cheaper. However, because all PR tickets are Osobowy, simply asking for one implies that you want a PR ticket. If you want a non inter-city PKP train, you need to specify this. In general it is a good idea to clearly specify the exact kind of ticket you want. If you are not picky about price, it is often just easiest to ask for a ticket on the next train to you destination.
• When you screw things up, you will be made to pay a fine and buy a new ticket. the conductor from the other company can stamp the old ticket so that this other company will redeem a percentage of its value. If you speak Polish, the conductors will be more then happy to explain what you did wrong and will usually take the time to explain the company codes to you.
• Many people just buy the ticket once they get on the train. When I tried this one conductor warned me that you have to pay a 10 zlotych fine if the ticket counter in the station you left from is open. I don’t know how they know if it is, but apparently they do.
• Just paying the 10 zl fine is better then getting caught with the wrong ticket.
On the day I was traveling from Poznan to Wroclaw, PR employees decided to go on strike. Instead of negatively affected, I found myself grateful that I only had to deal with one company. When I got to Wroclaw, I noticed that there is yet a third train company which operates in the Wroclaw area. To make matters worse this company sometimes runs combined trains with PR. There were so many kinds of trains that the lateness colum on the arrival/departure board, had to be co-opted in order to delineate all the different kinds of trains. If the train is late, as in Poland they often are, it reverts to showing arrival times, and you just have to guess what kind of train it is.

Perspectives on Nowa Huta

29 years ago my mother traveled to Poland as a journalist, to cover the country under martial law. She spent the Christmas vigil with a family in the infamous communist housing complex of Nowa Huta. I grew up hearing Nowa Huta essentially described as the epitome of all that was wrong in communist Poland. So, despite having been to Krakow three times, it was not until a few weeks ago that worked up the courage to take the tramwaj out to this section of the city.
What I found there surprised me. I had heard up to that point Nowa Huta was still one of the poorest and ugliest parts of Krakow. However, I found a well kept development, free of any obvious poverty. Compared to other block housing developments I have visited in Romania and Moldova, the buildings in Nowa Huta are in good condition. Graffiti, prolific in many parts of Poland, seemed to be kept to a minimum.
Despite the city’s current condition, reminders of its troubled past are still everywhere. It’s not that the scars of socialist era have yet to heal. The development was originally conceived as a model socialist utopia, but the present day residents of Nowa Huta seem to enjoy finding new and creative ways of giving the finger to the Bolsheviks. You pass from streets such as Solidarity Avenue to Pope John Paul II Street. The statue of Lenin which once dominated Nowa Huta’s Plac Centralny is conspicuously absent, replaced on the far end of the square by a monument to the Solidarity movement. A chapel has been consecrated on the site where the government's refusal to allow the residents to build a church incited riots. The cross originally in the field is now a monument. One of the inscriptions on the cross, a quote by Pope John Paul II reads “ from the cross in Nowa Huta began a new evangelism, the evangelism of a new milennium.” It was amazing to know that I was standing one of the spots where Poles began their fight for freedom.
With these thoughts in my head I decided to stop in at a café on the main square before heading back to Krakow. Soon after I sat down, one of Nowa Huta’s senior citizens, a resident of 50 years, entered and asked if he could sit with me. We began talking about how the city had changed. “Everything works now,” he opined, “but these days we lack community.” He proceeded to tell me of late nights at the cinema, and dancing until dawn in the city’s famous Restaracja Stylowa. "It was truly beautiful,” he added, “ but young people these days are only interested in new things.” His statement made more sense when my teacher later explained that the entertainment of which he spoke of were events organized by the communist party. Restaracja Stylowa is still there, but is now a tourist attraction that caters to communism tour groups. The way the old man in the café spoke of it, it sounded like it had closed long ago. For him , it may well have.

A Chilling Saturday

This is my fourth time in Poland. However, it was not until last weekend that circumstances allowed me to pay my respects at the camps of Auschwitz and Birkenau. Needless to say that it was a powerful experience. I have been to Dachau and Majdenek, but I was totally unprepared for the gravity of the location, just outside Krakow. Judging by my past experiences I was expecting a series of sagging wood shelters. Birkenau did fit this description, but because Auschwitz was originally an Army barracks, it consists of a conglomeration of finished brick buildings. If one did not know what had taken place there, it would have looked like just another set of early 20th century apartment buildings. What did occur was more horrific than at any of the other camps I have visited. While listening to stories of medical experiments and intentional mass extermination, I was shocked that human beings could be capable of such tasks. The camp commandant and his entire family even lived next to the gas chambers.

At many points around this living monument there were donation boxes for the restoration of the site, which apparently is falling into disrepair. I can only hope that these camps continue to stand as a monument to those who perished, and a reminder to never let such a tragedy happen again.

The Party That Never Ends

Roughly a week after the start of my arrival in Poland, the organizers of our language program announced that there would be a tour of of the city's old town. While I have been to Krakow many times I decided that this would be a good way to meet some new people, so I signed up. Instead of information about the old town's history, I had a discussion which I found to be somewhat shocking.
While on the tour I met a girl from Madrid, who eagerly asked me about the portrayals of American high school, which she had seen in Hollywood movies. According to her sources, the main goal of everyone in everyone in high school was to become either "a football player or a cheerleader." When I informed her that I and most students at my high school were much more concerned with getting a prefect score on the SAT and gaining admittance to a good university, she seemed almost to blame me for not living up to the unrealistic stereotypes set by popular western culture.
This experience highlights two negative ways in which exported American popular culture may influence those who consume it without any knowledge of actual life in the U.S. First: the obvious misrepresentation of real America. Second: the increasing tendency of a few Europeans to criticize Americans, for not living up to these same expectations.
While most Europeans I have met are honored by my goals of a career in eastern Europe, I have also met my share of those who respond by questioning why I would want to leave a country which in their view is free of problems and consequences. This in not their fault. Even in the smallest Polish towns the inhabitants are bombarded with a near-constant stream of media with such a theme. On the radio most American songs are about parties that never end in various American cities, while the most popular Polish one is about calling off a wedding at the last minute. Many Americans who come to Europe are on vacation and do party every night. It is only logical that some are going to draw the conclusion that this is an accurate representation of life in America.
As an American overseas, this can sometimes be frustrating. It is all I can do to say that America is a country with it's share of problems - like any other. It is up to the representatives of America abroad to set the record straight by providing a dignified, but accurate portrayal of life in their country.