I'm at the Copenhagen Airport on my way back home. What a fantastic airport - more like a shopping center with world-class restaurants. I'm so tempted to spend all my leftover money. Perhaps just one huge Laphroaig for DJ and a couple hand made Belgian chocolates for my flight to Seattle, and that's it, I swear. See you all soon. Let me know if you enjoyed my blog.
Magdalena

Growing up without siblings, I was the youngest of 5 first cousins in my family and always treated by them as a youngest sister. My Dad's sister had two children, my Cousin Basia and Cousin Wojtek. Both older than I by 6 and 8 years, they played with me when I was little and participated in my life until I left the country in 1974. Basia lives in the country with her family, and visits my Parents quite often. Wojtek lives in Berlin, Germany and visits my family occasionally, but I have not seen him since I left 34 years ago. It was a grand day yesterday when they both came and we spent the entire Sunday together reminiscing about the old times, catching up on news of their families and having fun goofing around. They are both retired, she a teacher, he a printer, and have children and grandchildren.
Nevertheless, yesterday we were kids again. It started with remembering when we were little and played in our Grandparents' house, then the day moved on to trying goofy hats and lots of laughter. You can see in the photos what we all look like now - it seems strange to meet people whom you remember only as young persons and now we are old. But still the same! Still the same laughter, joking, same characters. With a tremendous baggage of years, but still the same underneath the passage of time.
I would love to spend more time with them, but this one Sunday was great, anyway. They left at sunset, laden with baked goods from my Mother, and a baked chicken, and jars of marinated mushrooms. I got my Grandmother's porcelain tea cup with saucers as a gift from Basia, porcelain which I still remember from her house.
Our Grandmother had a great education in the arts of running a household and I remember a lot of what she taught us. But mostly the baked goods and the tea cups. She baked very elegant pastries, delicate, pretty and delicious. She taught me about color composition in meals and how to decorate cakes. I still make several kinds of preserves which she used to make and love cooking as she did.

One and a half hour from Gdansk, going mostly south and a bit west, is a tiny hamlet of an improbable name of Jaszczerz, pronounced Yashtchezh. There are 27 homes and as many families. Some are owned by those who spend their summer months in this amazing country of forests, lakes and meadows, some are occupied by folks who live here year-round. Those who live here permanently support themselves from picking mushrooms, berries and other forest goods during the summer, and during the winter they work in local factories. The children of these folks are educated and ambitious, trying for universities and colleges in Gdansk, one of the 5 largest city in this part of Europe. One neighbor's son has a masters in mathematics and the other's child is now passing exams to get a free scholarship in biology to Gdansk University. Another is teaching physics in Glasgow. Amazing for a small village, but not surprising considering the drive of the parents and children to educate themselves when the opportunity has entered under the thatched roofs.
The lack of practically everything but fresh air propels these children to educate themselves to move on, to go to the cities and do something other than picking forest goods for a living. It is amazing how ambitious they are and how enterprising. Anything to move to the city. Their grandparents often live in homes from the 17th and 18th century, without plumbing, without any improvements. There are open cesspools, there are pigs roaming the fields, the chickens own the road and let you know about it by loud clucking and the roosters attack the wheels of passing cars.
The forests are pristine, although very controlled. All broken branches, dry wood, dead wood is picked clean for kitchen fires, where most of the cooking is done on the old stoves with a real fire under the pots. The laundry is now done in modern washers, but still dried on lines, because it's considered healthier that way. Most homes look ancient from outside, but inside are spotless. Cleanliness is considered a mark of normalcy. Some people have gardens and orchards which sport varieties of fruit unknown anywhere else. When asked about the name of this apple tree, that pear tree, they say "grandmother's" or great-grandfather's", that's all. No names, no other indication. I wish I knew how to take cuttings to bring them back.
There are homes brick-built in the previous 2-3 centuries which are still standing strong and are now bought out by the "city" people and renovated to the standards of our century inside, and 18th century outside. One house's roof in the village is now being re-covered in reeds from the local lake to replicate the old thatched roofs, done by those who still remember how to craft them. The shores of the local lakes are stuffed with reeds and all access to the lakes has to be cut out to be able to launch kayaks and boats for the tourists.
This time of the year everyone is getting ready for the tourist season. The only local restaurant is closed because the entire crew is passing exams to the University at this time, and once they pass they will work here in the summer, and go to the University in the Fall.
The work situation in Poland is amazing - more work than people willing to work. Many have left Poland for work in Ireland and England, because the exchange rate was so very profitable. However, the recent fall of the dollar and the strong standing of Polish currency, Zloty, is starting to reverse the situation.People are coming back with the money they have earned in other countries and setting up businesses in Poland. The market is vibrant, the money is visible everywhere - renovations, new roads, buildings being painted, stores full of goods, weekend markets thriving, new cars, new stores, restaurants with profiles unknown before - Greek, Mexican, Chinese. Amazing in a country so xenophobic that any foreign word used to spin people into hate. Now, however, the children are bringing the Internet home and the information, the most important weapon in homogenization of Europe, is making amazing inroads into the backwoods of this country.
In my little world here, we are cooking 10-mile meals and drinking 10-mile beers. Yummy!
I will try to get a connection in the next day or so, but who knows. For now, I will drive the 10 kilometers to the local "big" town of 2 thousand people to find the only Internet cafe to post this information. I will try again on Monday, because Sunday is a sacred day and everything, I mean EVERYTHING is closed on Sunday, so Monday is the next sane day. Toodles for now.

The Torture Tower, active till the 17th, century houses the new Amber Museum. Many-colored, amazing specimens of Baltic amber, amber sculptures, furniture, jewelry, old and new, are exquisitely displayed in many small brick chambers on several floors of the old tower. The visitors walk up the 6 stories of curving stairs, smoothed out by centuries of prisoners, visitors and tourists. Smallest chambers have lovely displays of old drawings depicting many different ways to skin, flay, chop, break and pierce the bodies of torturees, and discreet speakers emit screams of the victims. Fun! There are some weird tools, iron manacles, and a box into which people were locked in a sitting position and then pierced with iron pokers through cunningly placed holes. The inventiveness of the methods of torture is astonishing.

The photo with the fly in the amber is shot through a magnifying glass, placed over most of the specimens with inclusions. One even had a small lizard. Some pieces are larger that a human head, as you can see in the photo with my face.

No special plans for tomorrow, just visits with family and friends. One of my friends has a trained special-needs dog, who works with disabled children as a form of therapy and I will meet that dog and see how it's done. I hope to learn something about the training methods.

Did I mention the sausages? and hams and patés and bacons and many other cold meats? The stores are packed with beautiful, fragrant, yummy food. Too bad I can't bring it all back. But I have been eating fantastic breakfasts with real bread, real butter and real sausages, and am stuffed to the gills. Probably gained 10 lbs already, but who cares. I can diet when I leave this Sausageland, but for now it's fantastic. See the photo to the right of an average store in this neighborhood.

My cousin Jagoda, who is my Dad's brother's daughter, lives in an area of parks, hills and "strolling woods". Her house used to belong to my paternal grandparents. After their death, during the communist era, a large part of their property was taken away and an ugly, huge multistory building was stuck right in their backyard, a pretty typical event during those times, when personal property became "the property of the people". The part of the land they were allowed to keep is now a tiny front and back garden. After the fall of the Communism, the house has been divided, and totally renovated. Jagoda owns the right-hand side of the house, and lives there with her daughter and her daughter's boyfriend, an Italian sculptor.

It felt strange to walk into the rooms where my grandparents lived, and which I remember so well from 45 years ago. The layout has been changed a bit, but the attic and the basement are still the same and Jagoda and I reminisced about playing hide and seek in the attic and how I fell asleep behind the wardrobe and they couldn't find me for a while. I also found out that a famous, huge copper pan of my Grandmother's, which she used to produce heavenly jams, is still in the family. These trips down memory lane are so intense, we cried and laughed, and hugged.

I took a photo of a photo of my great-grandfather, Marceli Dukland, and of the painting depicting the house during my grandparents' era, when I played there with my cousins.

The plans for tomorrow are to visit the Amber Museum in the old Torture Tower and I'm looking forward to seeing all the torture machines from the 16th century.

Gdansk is full of history, and the present, at the same time. The streets are cobbled, the architecture is from the 16th and the 17th century, the people are extremely modern, the galleries are full of amber jewelry and art created by modern artists, the streets are filled with tourists and the atmosphere is divine. The city has practically no buildings higher than 6 stories, except for the multitudinous churches towering over the landscape, all of them older than you can imagine. Touching their brick walls connects you directly to the medieval centuries when they were built. Other buildings around the town are equally amazing. Visiting the torture towers and the stocks and other unspeakable centers of public relations make you thankful for the times we live in. Others, renovated in style and turned into museums offer a glimpse into the life styles of rich merchants, including their clothing, furniture, portraits, books, and jewelry. Walking around the city you will find amazing architectural details, painted fronts, decorated windows, and hidden backyards full of flowering trees and gardens. The people who live here appreciate the privilege of being part of the mosaic of the city. They honor the history and the heritage and the beauty that surrounds them. They are the custodians of this amazing place and have a real sense of the history of the places where they live. I am proud to have come from here and Gdansk will always be in my heart.

Of all churches in Gdansk, St. Mary's Church is the most imposing, built over two centuries, finished in 1543. 25 thousand people can easily fit inside it, and its 250 ft tower affords the view of the city, the port and the Baltic sea. It is the largest brick church in the world, measuring 345 ft in length. Many of its priceless altars and plaques and statues have been saved during the wars, restored and returned to their original place. It escaped many assaults over the ages, including the carpet bombing by the Russians during the WWII, and has been renovated since to reflect its original, medieval glory. The chapels, the main altar, the organs, the burial stones in the floor, the ancient clock with a calendar and moon fazes are all part of the renovated interior. The soaring gothic ceilings are witness to the architectural skill of its builders. The exterior walls have a solar clock, copper-topped towers, arrow slits, and thousands of pigeons.

Chinese restaurants are just starting to make inroads in Gdansk and the few that are here are very exclusive. We visited one today and had a fantastic, authentic Chinese dinner. The restaurant is located right on the beach in Sopot, one of the three towns which melded into one Tri-City. Gdansk, Sopot and Gdynia are the most important places on the Polish Baltic Coast. Gdynia is a vibrant port city with merchant ships docking daily, and Marine Academies unrivaled in this part of Europe. Sopot is a tourist town with a beautiful, wide white sand beach, great promenade jutting into the sea, and many galleries, cafes and places to visit. Its turn-of-the-century resort town architecture is sweet and very pretty. Every weekend thousands of people come to walk the main drag and to sit in the outdoors cafes to watch the passersby. It's a sport of sorts which is religiously adhered to by many citizens of the Tri-City.

I was lucky today to witness a renovation of a cobblestone street, done almost the same way as in the old times. The modern workers do use some machines, but all of the fitting and placing of the stones is done by hand. It was amazing to see the care and the skill with which they fitted single cobbles into the pattern, and how they place them and firm them in place by hand with small hammers. The skill and swiftness is amazing. Most of the streets in the Old Town are refitted with cobbles as they were in the old centuries and the effect is singularly awesome. The street surface looks ancient, and you know that it will last for centuries. Cobbled streets are per meable to rain, so there is no runoff.