Meeting a master craftsman

So I've set up my jewelry station at my apartment, and it's sad, but I've done very little with it.  I crafted some things at Quench Jewelry Arts in NE Minneapolis while I was home for the holidays, and finished a couple things when I got back, but that's about it.  In fact, when I went to polish up what I had worked on, my rock tumbler (used with steel shot for shining silver jewelry) blew up on me.  I used it with a converter, but evidently mis-calculated what I actually needed to convert it to, and it billowed smoke throughout my apartment while I was in the other room finishing something up.

Realizing that it was now dead, and I probably shouldn't do any additional jewelry work until it was fixed or replaced (you know, because it's essential to getting stuff done - not...) I set out to see how I could solve the problem.  Turns out, there is a woman in southern Poland who sells the Lortone rock tumblers and was willing to order one and ship it to me.  We conversed back and forth a couple times, and I settled on just getting the base of the machine, since I already had the container you put the steel shot and jewelry in.

This is the machine - I thought I was buying the blue part with the cord.... turns out I was wrong.

She agreed to sell me the blue part, and was ready to post it to me.  BUT, she was on her way to a big gem show in Arizona, so she asked me if I just wanted to pick it up from a friend of hers.  Evidently, he is a metal smith she was staying with before her journey to Arizona.  I thought, okay, I could have her mail it to school, or I could go to this guys house and meet a Polish metalsmith.  I decided it would be cool to meet a polish metalsmith and worked with a colleague to call him and arrange a time to go to his house.  Keep in mind, I don't speak Polish, he doesn't speak English, and my colleague Joanna (Polish) is not going to be there to translate for me.  I figured it would be quick, I'd go to his house at noon, I'd give him money, he'd give me the base and all would be great!

Not the case.


First of all, I showed up to this:

Now I like dogs as much as the next guy - but this is a guard dog, and a German Shephard.  He was definitely there to alert his homeowner to my presence and as he growled and barked at me, I damn near peed myself.  Luckily, when Jacek (pronounced Yah-check) opened the door, the dog was escorted inside and I was allowed through the gate.  He greeted me and asked if I'd learned how to speak Polish since Joanna (my colleague) talked to him the day before, and chuckled.  So off we went - to his workshop upstairs in his house.  

He opened the box with the part, and lo and behold it held... just a motor (see it on the right below).  

Wait, what?  Huh.  So, if I paid the money for this part, I would have to take the other motor out, and put this one in.  Okay - I'm a "maker" I can do this, right?  Hmmmm.... he started talking to me in Polish, I started using the Google translate app, and was typing things like, will this work in my machine?  He kept saying something about America, america and I responded with "I am american" which evidently did not answer his question.  He paused and made several phone calls to try and find a friend who spoke English.  No luck.  Hmmm.  We stared at each other for a minute, I typed in something else in the Google translate app, and then I got an idea.  There is a microphone on the app as well - so I tried it.  I pushed the microphone while he was talking and I'll be damned if it didn't recognize Polish and translate it into English for me.  WHA?!?!  WINNING! 

We were both in awe of the fact that it could listen to me speak English, translate it and then speak it back in Polish to Jacek.  It was really incredible.  

If I pushed the microphone, it would detect which language was being spoken and translate into the appropriate "other" language.  It was amazing. 

Turns out, there had been a mixup.  The woman I bought the motor from thought I wanted to take the Polish motor and use it in my machine in the United States.  I'm not sure why that may be the case, but it's what he thought was happening.  I asked if the motor would work in Poland, he said of course, yes it would, but not with the plug on the machine being American.  I told him (only slightly confidently) that I could figure out how to change the cord, and it would be fine.  He looked at me, smiled and said, "moment."  He got his tools out and went to work.

I stood and watched (and took pictures) while he managed to take a cord from his workroom, disassemble it, and reassemble my cord into a functioning one that would conduct European power from the motor he had.  It seems simple, and I'm sure my parents who are very handy, could have done it - but they're not here.  And they don't speak Polish.  I was lucky enough to come across someone willing to stop what he was doing, take time to help me, and ensure me that his door is always open if I want to come back and make jewelry with him.  What an absolute treat.  I am both humbled and so appreciative that he took the time to help me, when he was definitely not bargaining for such an affair in delivering a motor to a customer.  

There are good people in the world, and there are great people.  Jacek will forever be one of the great people in my life experiences.  Enjoy the pictures!
                                                  

Note the IKEA screwdriver I brought in case I thought we might need a tool **rolls eyes

Some of Jacek's work.  Absolutely beautiful and entirely hand made.

He was working on these baby rattles when I interrupted him

my machine with the new motor waiting to be put in

scale

Jacek's tumbler.  I'm such a rookie.

His tray of work again.  Stunning.

When your night takes a turn...

It's been an interesting couple of weeks here in Warsaw.

On November 8th, I was lucky enough to attend a party thrown by the US Embassy for the election. It began at 8pm and went all night, with the intention to declare a winner and wrap up with a buffet breakfast in the morning.  Little did I know that the night would end the way it did...

We showed up at the Westin downtown after a long day of parent teacher conferences.  Those of us coming from the school were exhausted, but pumped at the idea of electing our first female president.  Who wouldn't want to stay and eat drink and be merry on the dime of the US Government?  

There was heavy security to get in to the soiree, but thanks to the school's close connection with the Embassy, those of us who were interested in attending got in no problem.  There were at least a couple hundred people there, and both sides of the aisle were represented.  It was held in a large ballroom with multiple screens up with CNN, BBC, Fox News and other outlets reporting the minute by minute action of the night.  It wasn't until about midnight that the results started coming in, and in the meantime they had plenty of food, American characters to take pictures with, trivia and activities to participate in.   

I also took some time to chat with the Ambassador, Paul W. Jones (not to be confused with John Paul Jones which is what I call him when I'm not in his company).  I introduced myself and invited him to the school to be part of our Hour of Code activities.  We haven't nailed down a specific time yet, but it appears that he will be coming (his right hand lady happens to be a mom of two ASW students.  

It was really a great party - lots of good energy, networking and hanging out learning about all things election.  It was a lot of fun... until it wasn't.  

Sarah and I got a room at the hotel for the night as I'm too old to do anything close to an all night party - and we had school the next day.  So, we decided to go up around 1 am and take a nap, to return for the victorious acceptance speech about 3 or so when it was expected to happen.  As can be assumed, I didn't wake up to go back down to the party, I'm a bit of a wuss like that, but I was awake about every 30 to 45 minutes throughout the night.  One of the perks of having a hotel room is that we were able to get CNN on the television on mute all night.  I would wake up, look at the lower left of the television screen, check the electoral college #'s and go back to sleep.  It was not the best way to get my beauty rest, but it seemed to work to keep me plugged in.  Unfortunately, it was a cat and mouse game that no one really expected.  There was the early Trump lead, the balance of 185 to 195 with Florida and Pennsylvania still out there.  And then Florida, Pennsylvania, North Carolina and Ohio all came in... and the morning darkened.  

After staring at each other in disbelief and scared for what the implications of the outcome were, Sarah and I went down for breakfast before returning to school.  

The mood of the room was decidedly quieter than when we left the night before.  Admittedly, many of those still in attendance had in fact been there all night, and had ebbed and flowed with the electoral college votes.  

That day at school was probably one of the worst days I've ever experienced.  Many of the staff at the school (as I'm sure people were throughout the country) were stunned.  There were tears, silence, anger, fear, disappointment, embarrassment and general disbelief.  I will say that all things considered, I was more of a Bernie fan than Hillary.  She is not without fault, nor is she perhaps the best person to have been the first female president.  Without hesitation though, I threw my entire support behind her over the misogynist pig who was in fact elected.  

My biggest concern rests in the fact that now that he has been elected, all of the statements he made have now been given validity.  He will be the face of our country on an international level (which is far from understood by many of the non-Americans I've spoken to), the representative of our great nation as he tweets, demeans and dehumanizes factions of the country's population.  I just don't get it. I understand that the establishment needs to be revisited and that there are obviously people who would like to see a significant shift in how the government operates.  I get that.  He won, I get that. But I can't wrap my head around people who would elect to put him in charge.  He has incited fear in the population, and unleashed racist hate activities  --  that is not a leader.  

I'm not looking to pick a political fight here.  I am not looking for comments sharing how I should get over it and get behind him.  I won't.  I never will support him.  In fact, I see me taking a more active political role (even from afar) to ensure that this NEVER happens again.  

It's really made me stop to think if the US is a place I can return to live some day.  At this point, with the election of Donald Trump, I am disappointed in my country, embarrassed to be an American, 99% less likely to have kids to be raised in this world, and sure as hell not moving home while he is in office.  *end rant.

It never gets easier...

I have never been an emotional person.  Well, wait- scratch that.  What I mean is I've always been "too cool" to show emotion.  I hate crying in front of people, I don't get too worked up by cute things, I fight back any sort of reaction to the sappiest movies - all for reasons unknown.  I am a confident, independent woman who doesn't need emotion to cripple me - so I rule it out as a feasible option for how to live life.  Sadly, this also trickles into relationships I am in.  I'm not really good in showing that I care about people.  And I am not unaware of this flaw.

Since moving to Warsaw, Karma has reared her ugly head and I've developed into some sort of weird sap that even I am surprised by.  I've meet my Eastern European soulmate in Tamara.  She moved here from Venezuela and there it is routine to greet people with warm long hugs, and I've found that they have the ability to reach your soul.  I don't know if her willingness and need for physical contact and hugs has unleashed something in me or what, but I've become an emotional mess since I got here. It probably started when I left home... again.

You'd think I'd be used to being away from family, but it truly never gets easier to leave them. Particularly my parents. (Boo will get her own post later)

I just had a wonderful opportunity to join my parents on the last leg of their three week Czech Heritage tour.  I'm not sure how many of you are up on your Ancestry.com memberships, but 'Staffa' is neither Czech nor Eastern European.  We aren't Hungarian or Polish either - we have just developed an affinity for this part of the world.  My mom and dad are experienced travelers who are always looking to experience something a bit off the beaten path, which is how they got looped into this opportunity.  Since I am now so close to Prague, my mom thought it would be a fun surprise for me to come here for the last part of their trip - when they had free time in the city.

We had kept if from my dad from hiding the red high heels she packed to bring to me, to communicating through hand written notes over face time that he couldn't see on the screen.  I took a day off of school and arrived in the afternoon to my parents and Jean and Gary coming back from a walk around the Jewish Quarter.  Dad thought he was returning to take a nap and regroup for the evening - but then I showed up.  At the airport in Poland, I stopped and bought a USA Today, as I know my dad is always interested in English newspapers and reading about what's happening while he is gone.  So the above video was the moment I surprised them.  Little did I know that my dad stepped off camera to search the hotel lobby for a USA Today.  Win for Kathy and Carla.

I had a particularly tough week in Poland last week, so this was a relief to have them here in the same room as me - despite the fact that it had only been six weeks since I moved over here.  You see, if you're reading this, you probably know my parents.  Because everyone who knows me, knows we are extremely close and they are an active force in my life - in every aspect of my life.  I wouldn't be the ________________(insert adjective here) person I am today without their influence.

My mom is the one who sent me on my first international trip when I was 16 years old.  Since then, travel has been part of the fiber of our family being, and ultimately how I ended up in Europe - again. So really, they only have themselves to blame that my brother and I live on different continents than they do.  She is one of the smartest people I know - from walking me through how to fix my plumbing via FaceTime to warning me against dating people who she had a gut feeling about long before I did - and she has always been right.  She has a solution for seemingly every problem - and they're not only for me.  She is a beautiful person with a humble generous soul, who gives freely without ever expecting anything in return, always showing her willingness to sacrifice for others first. She has lived a simple, frugal life for years that now allows the two of them to travel the world and really enjoy experiences she never thought possible.

It's amazing what a little mom time can do for someone who is in need of a little extra TLC, even at the ripe age of 39.

And then there's my dad.  Yup, I saw you just chuckle to yourself.  He's a character isn't he?  Let's just say that when I joined their group on Friday, every single person knew my dad, and about his shenanigans.  Whether it be the one about how many seconds in a year, to the magic trick with the red hanky, they knew him and they knew his humor.

Here he is doing a trick in a small Czech village last night.  He's still got it!

He is a sweet soul, with curiosities that I would never have considered.  He wonders things like "why are there two types of cobblestones used when one clearly doesn't stand up as well as the other?"  He prefers to look at buildings, trees and dogs while traveling, and has an innocence about his questions that leaves us always wondering what he'll wonder next. He loves my mom more than anyone has loved a person before and dotes on her like it's their first week of dating.  He wishes for us happiness and adventure in what we do - despite the fact that sometimes those come in contradiction of my mother always knowing what is right and best.

So while I cried as they boarded their bus to head to the airport, I know that I am richer for having had the last 48 hours with them.  They are on the tail end of what proved to be an exhausting trip, and while their spunk is as spicy as ever they are slowing a bit, and it makes me appreciate more and more every second I have with them.  

It never gets easier leaving them.  

So. The moral of this post is, first - if you don't know my parents, you should because they're the greatest people on the face of this planet and I DARE you to find someone who says otherwise. Second, tell the people in your life that you love them and spend time with people who mean something to you.  Life is too damn short to try and care about those who treat you poorly or don't contribute to your life in a positive way.  

And lastly, I love you mom and dad.  I love you more than I have ever said, and I am still crying as I type this post more than an hour and a half after you left.  Thank you for all you have done for me, and continue to do for me.  You are an amazing example of people who love unconditionally and who will sacrifice all you have for others.  

I love you. 

Minnesota, take care of them while I'm gone <3

Day Trippin'

Last weekend Tamara, Steve and I trekked about two hours away to a cute small town called Kazimierz Dolny.  One of my colleagues recommended it as a good day trip.  We met at the train station to travel together, not really knowing what was in store.  Turns out, Saturday morning is a popular time to get train tickets.  There were no fewer than a dozen ticket sale windows, but I initially started out thinking I'd stop at the info desk and ask questions regarding seat reservations, round trip tickets and timetable options.  I waited in the info line for a solid 10 minutes while one family was being helped, the biggest hiccup was that the train ticket sales lady didn't speak English.  This is the Central Warsaw Train Station.  Why on earth wouldn't the INFORMATION lady speak English? Sidenote: I'm convinced that two thirds of Poles actually speak pretty fair English, they're just timid around native English speakers, or annoyed by them.  Either way, I've seen people switch from Polish to perfect English too many times to believe that the woman behind the counter didn't speak English. Admittedly, I don't readily admit that I speak Hungarian well because it's hard for me to understand much of the language.  It's one of the many reasons I'm itching for my Polish lessons to start.

So, I gave up on the info line - it was 9:05 and our train was to leave at 9:50 - and the ticket line was long.  I thought it a better use of my time to get into the ticket purchase line rather than the info line to actually get something done.  While not all 12 sales booths were occupied, it struck me that the woman at the number 4 window was there, but wasn't helping anyone.  She just didn't look up.  That's the ticket friends, if you don't look up, there isn't actually a line of a bajillion people waiting to be helped.  It's actually brilliant when you think about it.  Finally after a solid 20 minutes in this line, Teresa buzzed that she could help the next person.  And let me tell you, Teresa should have been one of the women not looking up.  She did not love her job, and she did not love that we didn't speak English.  I was a bit nervous this being our first train ride at all - and this town in particular didn't have a direct train there.  We were going to have to do some maneuvering once we got to this OTHER town to get to Kazimierz Dolny.

Being the planner that I am, I had looked up the tickets online prior to just showing up at the train station.  I had thought about traveling to the station the night before to get the tickets as the trip was my idea and I didn't want it to crash and burn since I had invited others with me.  I knew that we wanted the 9:50 train and that it'd arrive in Puławy at 11:38.  When we tried to converse with Teresa, she indicated that we would be arriving at 13:38.  Wait.... that's 1:38.  Why on earth would the ride be double the time?  Teresa, quit playin.  What's the deal? I asked - through Google translate - if there was a faster train (knowing I had seen it online and wanted that train, not one that showed up at 1:38). Luckily for me, Teresa needed her glasses to read what I had typed, and as she fumbled for her cheaters, she did not hide her joy in taking these extra measures to help us out.  **sarcasm

Finally, we gathered that she was going to sell us tickets on the later train because 2nd class was sold out on the earlier one.  We opted for 1st class (a whole two dollars more) and off we went.  It was a pleasant ride along the Polish countryside, it went quickly with good conversation and new surroundings.  When we arrived in the town before the town we were going to  - we got off and were a little skeptical that this was all going to work out.

arrival at the train station

Naturally, the first thing I had to do was use the bathroom when we got off the train, and while I was in the loo, Tamara and Steve went to figure out how we were going to get to our town.  Unfortunately because we didn't rush right off the train, the taxis were all snatched up, and we couldn't make heads or tails of the bus schedule, so we were a bit nervous.  Luckily a taxi rolled up just before I started to panic and we were on our way.  Phew.  

We arrived and promptly set off to eat and celebrate our arrival.  When in doubt, pizza is always a safe bet, so we indulged.  :)  

The town itself was really quite cute.  We walked around for a couple of hours, walked up a bajillion stairs to see some crosses on the top of the hill - turns out you have to pay to actually get on the landing where the crosses are, but they don't tell you that until you're at the top - well played Poland.  We enjoyed the get away from the city and the creative shopping they had there.  

I think my favorite part of the trip were the souvenirs that Steve came back with.  They are hand carved wooden monks - or hassidic jews - we're not entirely sure.  They were at a flea market in the town and Steve managed to get two for the price of one.  It may prove to be helpful to have a bargain shopper among the ranks as I travel in the future.  <3  

Steve in action

So happy....

At another shop - wondering if he should build the duo to a trio...

Steve telling us how much charm this one has

After stopping for ice cream - well deserved in the heat we faced that day - we wandered a bit more and decided it was time to go back home.  

 When you come across a giant rooster, naturally you hop on for a photo

When we were ready to leave, we meandered back to where we were dropped off by the taxi.  Sadly there were no taxis.  We walked a bit more, and found a sign that read "taxi" and had a number, so naturally we called it.  Sadly, with our lack of Polish language skills, we were unable to communicate where in the town we were.  I tried naming different buildings, telling them the street name, all of the things that normally work when calling a taxi, to no avail.  I wanted to just scream, WE'RE NEXT TO THE SIGN THAT SAYS TAXI AND HAS YOUR NUMBER.  We stopped a Polish guy, gave him the phone and for whatever reason he couldn't communicate where we were either.  It didn't make sense.  I got back on the phone and basically just said "thank you" as politely as I could and hung up.  So - we did the next best thing, tried to get an Uber.  until this happened:  

Nuts and bolts.  We wandered a bit more and finally found a taxi that was a jeep type vehicle riddled with mud up to the windows.  With this we knew one of two things were going to happen.  We were either going to take this vehicle and offroad along side the Visła to get ourselves back to the train station, or we were going on safari.  Luckily, he just drove us back to the train station and we returned to Warsaw without incident.  Day trip #nailedit.