Go ask Alice
Another long walk around Warsaw, except this time I actually got to go inside the museums.
I spent the first hour or two of the day in the National Museum. Mostly good. Saw a lot of alterpieces downstairs. Got bored by some of the landscapes upstairs. Enjoyed the Jesuses hanging on the walls and some of the more colorful early 20th century work.
Big chunk of internet time.
"Polish" lunch of tripe soup and black pudding sausage (with fried onions and mushrooms.)
Chopin Museum for a viewing of Frederick Chopin's personal relics (his pencil! his ink well! a letter he wrote to George Sand! original handwritten sheet music for the Polonaise in A flat!)
Aimless walking around and some time spent in the cafe with Hunter S. Thompson and writing postcards. Two very friendly old Polish women who gave me directions in sign language to the post office after my questioning them in sign language (one cleverly pointed to her own red shirt to remind me that the post boxes are red).
Quick dinner with Alice, and not realizing that a very famous Polish politician was sitting next to us.
A Chopin recital performed in an old Warsaw Palace (one of few not destroyed in the war). Very touristy (we were informed that Chopin is the best way to understand Polish culture), but good.
AND, I almost forgot to mention. Yesterday, I saw the worst thing I've seen so far on my trip. Walking down the street was an old, homeless looking man and woman. He had a long white beard and a scowl and she had no teeth, but did have a confused and very red face. They both looked drunk, and probably insane as well. He had his hand gripping her tight by the next, wrapped underneath her jacket. But it was obvious he had a firm grip, because no matter how much she squirmed to get away, she didn't budge. Although we were walking down Novy Swiat, a major street, he screamed at her and punched her hard in the face. As her neck was gripped tightly by his other hand, the punches hit unusually hard and even down the street I could hear the SMACK! sound.
I didn't know what to do. It seemed almost unconscionable to do anything, but I couldn't risk him punching ME in the face. Fortunately, a Polish guy yelled at the old guy and told him to leave her alone, and after some persuading, she was permitted to run down the street, embarassed and in pain.
The only silver lining to the story is that all nearby Polish people on the street looked shocked and horrified, implying that this is not something common or expected here.
I spent the first hour or two of the day in the National Museum. Mostly good. Saw a lot of alterpieces downstairs. Got bored by some of the landscapes upstairs. Enjoyed the Jesuses hanging on the walls and some of the more colorful early 20th century work.
Big chunk of internet time.
"Polish" lunch of tripe soup and black pudding sausage (with fried onions and mushrooms.)
Chopin Museum for a viewing of Frederick Chopin's personal relics (his pencil! his ink well! a letter he wrote to George Sand! original handwritten sheet music for the Polonaise in A flat!)
Aimless walking around and some time spent in the cafe with Hunter S. Thompson and writing postcards. Two very friendly old Polish women who gave me directions in sign language to the post office after my questioning them in sign language (one cleverly pointed to her own red shirt to remind me that the post boxes are red).
Quick dinner with Alice, and not realizing that a very famous Polish politician was sitting next to us.
A Chopin recital performed in an old Warsaw Palace (one of few not destroyed in the war). Very touristy (we were informed that Chopin is the best way to understand Polish culture), but good.
AND, I almost forgot to mention. Yesterday, I saw the worst thing I've seen so far on my trip. Walking down the street was an old, homeless looking man and woman. He had a long white beard and a scowl and she had no teeth, but did have a confused and very red face. They both looked drunk, and probably insane as well. He had his hand gripping her tight by the next, wrapped underneath her jacket. But it was obvious he had a firm grip, because no matter how much she squirmed to get away, she didn't budge. Although we were walking down Novy Swiat, a major street, he screamed at her and punched her hard in the face. As her neck was gripped tightly by his other hand, the punches hit unusually hard and even down the street I could hear the SMACK! sound.
I didn't know what to do. It seemed almost unconscionable to do anything, but I couldn't risk him punching ME in the face. Fortunately, a Polish guy yelled at the old guy and told him to leave her alone, and after some persuading, she was permitted to run down the street, embarassed and in pain.
The only silver lining to the story is that all nearby Polish people on the street looked shocked and horrified, implying that this is not something common or expected here.
posted by Jed at 1:14 AM
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