The Power of One

At the beginning of February 1999 I flew from hot summer in Melbourne Australia, to cold and wintry Minneapolis.
My intention was to compete in American Vasaloppet in Mora, Minnesota. 

The winter was poor in snow but I managed to have decent skiing in few parks in Minneapolis.
 On Thursday, 3 days before the race, I heard on the radio, that the race has been cancelled due to the lack of snow. 

It was a shock!
Next morning I rang the race office. They confirmed the bad news - sorry, the race is cancelled.
 - That's impossible! I came here all the way from Australia! It cannot be!
 - We are very sorry, but it is cancelled.
 - But there is quite good snow in parks in Minneapolis... 
-  We also have good snow in the forest. But the race is run in the open area and there is no snow there.
- So shift it to the forest!
 - That's impossible, we have around 4,000 participants, we cannot squeeze them on narrow tracks. Anyway, the decision is FINAL, there is NO RACE!
 I tried the last chance - please connect me with the club secretary.
I had Valerie Brown at the other end of the wire and I laid down my proposal:
I understand that you are unable to run the regular race. But on the other hand there is still quite good snow in the forest. And on another hand, I came here all the long way from Australia.
Why not to put these two hands together and let me do a solo race in the forest?
There was a moment of silence and then ....come to Mora, we'll see what we can do for you. I could hear smile in Valerie's Brown voice.
I came to Mora on Saturday morning.
The big red Dalarna Horse reminded me my race in Sweden 3 years earlier.

I went directly to the race office.
It was the saddest place in the world. Thousands of race bags and bunches of medals for finishers.
I took one of them in my hand.... Valentine Day..
Yes, of course! It will be Valentine Day tomorrow! A heart, two skiers inside, Love to ski .

- What are you going to do with them?
- They all will be scrapped.
- O, no! You must let me to race for this medal!

 We studied maps of ski trails in the forest. Valerie showed me ones where the snow should be OK.
I did simple arithmetic...
- Valerie, so if I will ski around these loops until I clock over 58 km, will you give me such a medal?
- Find his racing bag - she said.

9 o'clock Sunday morning, blue skies, light frost, no wind.
In the Log Cabin I left a bag with warm clothes and some food and drinks.
I put on my red racing suit with kangaroos on the back and on the leg. I put on my race number 503...

 START!!! 

For a long time I was the only person on the trails.
Later some people arrived, whole families for a relaxing session of skiing in the sun.
Some of them were quite shocked when out of sudden a crazy racer appeared...
 - Go away from the track - shouted parents to the children - thousand skiers will be here in a moment!
 - But they said , that the race is cancelled.
I left them in such puzzled state and skied on and on...
 5 times around The Point Trail, 4 times Beaver Dam Trail and every possible trail between and around. Eventually my log showed more than 60 km, it was almost 3 pm.
I skied back to the Log Cabin where some local ski club members waited for me with the medal of my dreams. 

Back from home, I wrote a detailed report of my effort, it showed almost 65km.
What a surprise it was when few weeks later I received mail from Valerie Brown.
She sent me a special diploma...

... and another medal.

Valerie explained that some of Love to Ski medals have been given to senior club members and race sponsors so she saved for me something special...

... and there is only ONE such medal in the world!

Strange encounter

 Halfway through my studies, when my enthusiasm for studying had somehow waned, I started taking piano lessons.
I didn't expect any achievements, the main goal was to get acquainted with music more tangibly. I had a lot of time to practice, so I made rapid progress.

During the holidays, I visited my mother in Kielce, where I found a piano at the Provincial Cultural Center so I could also practice.
My hit piece was L. Beethoven's Bagatelle - Für Elise - CLICK.

While playing, I felt someone standing behind me and I stopped playing.
- Nice piece - said the stranger - may I try?
I made room for him.

He looked at the notes and immediately played quite correctly, after a while he started improvising... and that's when I recognised him.
It was probably the 5th grade of primary school. A new student came to our class.
There were only 16 boys in the class, so each addition/departure was a big event.
"New" was not very communicative and rather invisible during lessons and breaks, until one day he noticed an open piano in the general hall, sat down on the edge of a stool and started playing.
I don't remember what it was, probably some popular melody, but he played it completely relaxed, it made an impression.

Step by step, we learned that his parents had transferred him to our private school because he had been expelled from the TPD school (Society of Friends of Children). The reason for the expulsion... we had to wait for an explanation, finally he said - he played Red Poppies at Monte Cassino * on the piano.
Despite our requests, he did not play this melody for us.

One day I invited him and another friend to my house for after-school fun - a game of knucklebones, tin soldiers, coin football.
Demonstration of knucklebones  HERE.

The games were going sluggishly, I don't know what came to my mind, but at some point I boasted that I had a fountain pen with a gold nib in my desk drawer.
It was a gift from my American aunt. My mother immediately sold these types of gifts because these were our priorities.

My friends' visit was coming to an end. Since we washed our hands during the visit (in a bowl because we didn't have a bathroom), I poured water from the bucket into the toilet in the corridor and took them to the street.

When my mother returned from work, I told her about the visit.
My mother immediately looked into the drawer in my table - there was no fountain pen.

Complete consternation - mine - such cool friends, mother's - how to survive until the end of the month.
She wrote a letter to my class teacher asking for clarification.
The teacher was nervous, during a long break she asked the three of us into the staff room and asked me to report the event.
None of my friends confessed.
- When Leszek left with the bucket, you said - "now we can nick something from him" - a "pianist" broke the silence.
- I said it and you nicked - the accused replied.
- I didn't nick anything - was the "pianist's" response
The teacher looked at us helplessly - if no one confesses, I will have to report it to the teachers' council - she commented and ended the meeting.

During the next break, the "pianist" dragged me to a corner - Leszek, I did it, I don't know what came over me, just please don't tell anyone, I will return the pen to you tomorrow.
This confession moved me so much that I wanted to take him in my arms.
At the next opportunity, I approached the teacher and said that the perpetrator had confessed, the case is over, don't tell anyone about it.

The next day - the "pianist" did not come to school. For me it was quite a shock.
The mother wrote another letter to the teacher - the end of the school year was approaching, so she suggested that the perpetrator should not be issued a school certificate.

During the break, the teacher went to the office, and after a while she came back with an uncertain face - his mother was at school yesterday, she said that they were moving somewhere and took her son's school certificate.
Another shock - how to tell my mother about this?

I took a closer look at the person who joined me.
I had no doubts - it was HIM.
Did he recognize me?
We had both changed a lot, I wouldn't have recognized him in a crowd, but I was sure he recognized me. It seemed to me that from time to time he gave me an inquisitive look and a smile - I don't know - mocking or controlling.

I felt so helpless.

Today's illustration - a house in the middle of nowhere.

* Red Poppies at Monte Cassino - a Polish patriotic song commemorating a victory in a very important battle in WWII, In Communist Poland participation of Polish Army under British command in WWII was quite inconvenient subject.
Song HERE.

8 minutes 37 seconds

8'37" - that was a working title of a musical piece composed by K. Penderecki in 1960. 

The title of the piece was not innovative. Eight years earlier, John Cage "composed" a piece called 4'33'' (4 minutes 33 seconds). I wrote the word composed in quotation marks because this piece is absolute silence.

So this is a musical version of the fairy tale The King's New Clothes. However, so far no one has cried during the performance of the song - the king is naked!
Perhaps music soothes manners.

You can watch it HERE.

Krzysztof Penderecki had great appreciation for John Cage and probably agreed with his statement: music is pointless fun, an affirmation of life. It is not an attempt to bring order to chaos or to repair creation. It is simply a way of awakening to the life we live.

In practice, this meant musical experiments, including sonorism - a musical direction invented by Polish composers, in which sound is the essence. There is no rhythm, no melody, only sound, like colourful spots on an abstract painting. 

The piece 8'37'' was supposed to be just such an experiment. Krzysztof Penderecki composed it in a laboratory, on electronic equipment.
Fortunately, in those days (Communist Poland), creative activity was not limited by finances, so Penderecki had the opportunity to listen to his work performed by a symphony orchestra - 52 string instruments.

He listened and was shocked.
He changed the title of the song to Threnody in memory of the victims of Hiroshima.

My Sunday Reflection:
I found Penderecki's experience quite significant. I thought maybe that's what's happening in the universe.
God is experimenting in his heavenly laboratory, and on Earth, an orchestra of over 7 billion artists performs this piece.

The effect is truly shocking.

Let's go back to K. Penderecki.
Threnody in memory of the victims of Hiroshima was first performed in 1960 and marked the beginning of the composer's brilliant career.

I listened to this piece in 1962.
It was my first encounter with avant-garde music and on the one hand it was a shock - is this music?
On the other hand, it touched familiar strings - the bomb alarm, the patter of feet heading for the shelter, the distant sound of an approaching plane. I vaguely remembered the nights spent in the shelter during last months of WWII, I vividly remembered my mother's stories about the bombings.

Why did I choose this topic for Sunday?
Today - August 6 - is the anniversary of the dropping of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima - CLICK.

One more thing...
I mentioned that in sonoric music there is no rhythm, no melody. Music notation resembles technical charts.

That's why I'm including the Threnody animation here.
For me, it is not so much associated with the atomic bomb, but with the attack of viruses.
Listen and Watch - CLICK.

40 years in Australia

 40 years ago, on 8th February 1983 we landed in Australia...

Visa issued in Kuwait?

Yes, in 1981 I commenced a 2 years work contract in Kuwait University Computer Centre.

 My wife and children joined me soon.

We felt quite comfortable living in Poland and my plan was to work 2 years, maybe a bit more in Kuwait to earn some "hard currency" and get some experience with modern computer technology and then return to Poland to our spacious 66 m2 flat, safe jobs etc.

The history changed our plans, in December 1981 a martial law was introduced in Poland as a response to social unrest under Solidarity banner.
Officials in Polish Consulate in Kuwait advised - do not go back to Poland. There is total paralysis of economy, social life, everything. Stay in Kuwait as long as you can.
On the other hand - staying in Kuwait did not look like a safe option, just across the border there was a war between Iraq and Iran, we could hear bomb explosions quite frequently.

So where to go?
There were 3 main migration destinations - USA, Canada, Australia.
First two looked as easiest options - not so far from Poland, similar climate, we had some friends or relatives there.
I visited US Consulate and asked about migration procedure.
The official in the Consulate was very frank - you realise that getting permanent residency in US is the greatest privilege in the world. No wonder the process will be long, you may feel humiliated sometimes, but remember - you must be honest and humble because at the end there is the greatest reward.
I felt to small to apply.

Canadian Consulate.
The official was quite friendly, he introduced Canada as most open, multicultural country, encouraged me to apply for permanent residency visa...then whispered - may I ask you few unofficial questions?
- Go on.
- How old are you?
- 40.
- How much money will you bring to Canada?
- Few thousand dollars (my salary in Kuwait was heavily taxed by Polish government).
- Do you have any close family in Canada?
- No.
- Well, as I said before, we are extremely open country and you are most welcome here, but privately... if you are so old, so poor and so lonely... better stay where you are.
I thanked him heartfully for such honest advice.

Australian Consulate.
First question was - what is your profession?
- Computer analyst programmer.
The official grabbed me by arm - you are position one on our country demands list, I will not let you leave unless you give me you details and contact information.
I filled application forms.

To get some idea what can we expect in new place, I looked around to find some Australian professional in Kuwait. It took quite some time before I found one.
I considered it a good sign.
There were many professionals from USA, Great Britain, from European countries. So employment conditions in Australia must be so good, they do not need to look for better options.
We invited the special one for dinner and explained him our curiosity.
- What a pity my wife is not here, she would have told you everything you need. One thing is certain - Australia is extremely friendly country with the best medical and education systems in the world.
Your kids will love Australian school, it is so multicultural. Take the languages, there are 3 terms in a school year. In term 1 kids learn French, in term 2 - Italian, in term 3 they have swimming.
- How old are your kids? - I asked.
- Boy is 8, our daughter is... I think she is 6. If my wife was here...

After the dinner I drove our guest to his hotel.
There was a long line of cars on the traffic lights. We moved slowly forward. someone was pressing on the horn.
- What happened? - asked my passenger - a police?
- No, just someone overslept the green light.
- Missed green light and such a noise? In Australia they may honk on you, but not earlier then after you missed 3 green lights. 
I returned home in good spirit.
- I think we will manage there - I announced.
- And it looks like women enjoy high respect there - added Sylvia

An official in Australian Consulate reinforced my positive look.
- On what day of the week will you arrive in Australia?
- Tuesday, 8 February.
- Excellent, just on Tuesday, The Age - the main Melbourne paper, publishes a list of vacant computer jobs. If you ring them from the airport you may start working same day after lunch.
Impressive.

January 1983 meant packing and clearing up all issues in Kuwait.
I visited Bank of Kuwait and enquired about exchange of my savings to Australian dollars.
- Sorry, we do not keep Australian dollars.
So I exchanged all my savings yo US dollars.
My boss organised a farewell party..

My contract provided for a free return flight to my home country or any flight with Kuwait Airways.
We chose Manila, Philippines.

Almost a week in a paradise...

... and we boarded a Qantas plane.

Morning sun woke us up, I looked down thru the window - unending slightly undulated terrain covered by sand or dried out grass.
We are back in Kuwait - was the first thought.
Few hours later we landed in Melbourne, pilot announced a hot day.
Some strange figures in white overalls sprayed passengers with some fluid and we touched Australian soil.

Sylvia had some relatives living in Melbourne and they (Barbara and John) offered us an accommodation for the first weeks, Barbara was also to pick us up from the airport but we had to wait a bit, until the morning traffic will ease.
I bought The Age - the Consulate official was right, there was a special section with advertisements of computer jobs. I decided to try them next day.
I visited currency exchange.
The price of 1 AU$ was close to 1.18 US$.
That was a big surprize, on the other hand it probably meant that the economy was very strong. For the beginning I exchanged some 200 US$.

Soon Sylvia's cousin arrived and drove us to their home.
Surroundings of Tullamarine airport did not look too encouraging, small industry area, poor road surface, lots of small workshops or warehouses. 
- Like in Kuwait - I thought.
Sylvia's cousin must have noticed our disappointment.
- Do not worry, it is just an industrial area, Melbourne is a beautiful city and our home is in a very nice, green suburb with many parks and trees.
Finally we got to Hawthorn East - looked very nice, lots of nice homes and residences, but lawns and trees... they looked like drying out.
- Oh, I did not warn you, We are in a long period of drought. Our council forbade watering plants and gardens.

Eventually we reached the home.
Very spacious, with nice garden, swimming pool and tennis court.
This was Australia of our dreams.

In the late afternoon we felt in the air some smoke, the sky darkened, there was a strong wind.

Next day we could see in newspapers this photo...

Details HERE.

My plan for this day was to look for a job.
I looked at list of job offers in yesterday's The Age and rang. Got an interview in the afternoon.

People in the agency were very friendly and nice, they looked quite impressed with variety of my job experiences.
Then came a question:
- Do you have any Australian job experience?
- But I think I told you - we arrived in Australia yesterday.
- Oh, yes, of course, of course. It does not matter at all.
The agent looked quite worried, he flipped over my job certificates without much enthusiasm.
- We are sure we find something for you soon. We will ring you. Bye.

The Australian experience started!

USA - 1982 - New York

 Direction New York.

Soon we could see the skyscrapers at the horizon, less that 2 hours drive and we are on the city entrance road.

The sign read: Harlem.

I got paralysed.
I do not exactly know why, there was not so much negative much propaganda in Communist Poland showing USA in a bad light.
Of course there were reports about homelessness, poverty, crime, racism etc, but it was so remote.

And here, out of sudden, we are at the gate to Harlem - panic, panic.

Lock the door - I commanded - and avoid looking at anybody.
In few minutes time we got stuck in a traffic jam. In the distance I could see young Afro-American men washing front screens of the coming cars.

Prepare some change for me - I commanded to Sylwia - and do not look anybody into eyes.

After next few minutes we were in the front line. Young, massively built man, smiled friendly to me

- Screen wash, sir?
I nodded approvingly.
In few seconds the windscreen was clean, I lower the window glass slightly
- How much do we owe you?
- It is up to you, sir. Welcome to New York!
I handed him probably $2, he waved friendly to my passengers and we moved on.
I felt relaxed and rather embarrassed with my previous precautions.

Our American friend from Kuwait, Joe K. booked for us room in hotel in 88th Street. It was very close to the main attraction in the city centre.

The first attraction was an open air concert in the Central Park.
It was something new for us. We were lovers of classical music, but we experienced it only in official concert halls.
And here it was - free for all and in beautiful surrounding.
Of course there were some conversations around us, some cracking of serviettes or food containers, clink of wine glasses, but this was a part of the parcel.
After the concert we went for a shot walk in alleys around the big lawn and there was a mounted police, some loud commands, noises.
- Do not walk this way - warned us some passerby, there was attempted robbery there.

Next day, maybe even two, were filled with visiting many popular New York attractions.

We also rang Wanda, who we met at the camping camp few days earlier.
She told us that she will be in the city next day and will be very happy to visit some not so well known attraction.

It was a small castle brought from Europe to New York.

Wanda also told us about her current occupation.
We remembered that her husband was employed by Mr Potamkin, as a manager of cars depo and occasionally as a limo driver, to pick up from the airport most important quests of his boss.
One of them was a director of Canadian Railways.
He was so enchanted with Stan's small talk that he made a proposal:
My wife has a luxurious apartment in New York and once a year, at the beginning of art season, she organises a series of events for her friends.
She needs a manager for this apartment - all year it stays empty, but for these 2 weeks of high season it comes to life - sumptuous parties everyday, visits of distinguished guests etc.
Of course all services, catering of the best quality are paid.
A very reliable manager is needed to order, control and coordinate all these activities.
And this is her job for the last few years.

Same day in the evening, we met Joe K American of Polish origin and his girlfriend and visited Lincoln Centre.
There was a performance of Dvorak's Cello concerto.

There was one more point in our program for New York - to visit my aunt who lived in an old-age care home in Long Island.
I rang a car hire.
- What credit card should we charge?
- I do not have a credit card, I will pay in cash.
A moment of silence and then - you must be joking, you will pay us few dollars and we will not see neither you nor our car.
They hang up.

Now I understood dilemmas of car hire in Washington.
Stan and Wanda were the only chance.
I rang them suggesting that they will hire a car and pay with their credit card and we will return them all in cash. Stan burst in laughter - don't you remember that I am running a car depo?
Come there and you will get a car of your choice for free.
Next morning we packed and went there by taxi.
Soon we passed poor residential suburbs and found ourselves in some industrial desert.
Miles and miles of empty streets filled with neglected stores and used cars depos.
Finally we got there. A smart minibus was waiting for us.
- We hope it will serve you well.
It did.

Meeting with my aunt was very touching and memorable.

Our arrangement for car return was, that we bring it to Stan and Wanda home in the morning, spend all day there and in the evening they will drop us to the airport.
They lived in Greenpoint, the area dominated by Polish community.
We felt like in Poland, not the one we remembered, it was Poland of previous generation.

Evening, we sat at the meal and then phone rang, and then again and again.

Stan turned to us with radiant face.
President Reagan declared that due to martial law in Poland, no Polish visitor can be expelled from United States.
Bring your luggage inside, you are not going anywhere.
You can stay with us a month or two, we will enroll your children to a school nearby.
You will find jobs and settle down for good!

Somehow he did not convince us.
We noticed disappointment in their faces

We boarded Kuwait Airways flight.

Previous Post - Niagara Falls - Click.     

 END

USA 1982 Niagara Falls

 Our initial idea of summer holidays in USA was to cross it from South to North with longer stays in Florida, Washington, Niagara Falls and New York.
We were told, that the best view on the falls is from Canadian side, people told us that there is practically no control on the border. On the other side - we got single entry visa. We did not try.

Now was the longest leg.
Firstly I enjoyed driving the car.
Generally I am not an enthusiast of cars and driving, but my only experience was driving a miniscule Fiat 600 in Poland and some better car on absolutely flat Kuwait deserts and here I got a power and a feeling of rolling green hills.

Secondly, we drove barely few hours and... Niagara was there...

The photo does not show it but there was a big display - Niagara Falls Information Office.
We entered.
- Are you travelling to Niagara Falls? - asked a young guy.
- We are.
- You are extremely lucky, this is a last point you can easily book accommodation  and organize some exciting tour.
Do you know what happens now in Niagara Falls?

-???

- There is a massive baptism of newcomers to the Baptist Church, Thousands of people will be submerged. On top of it there is big motorboats competition. 
There is only a handful of vacant places and we are the last place you can book them.

We booked in a haste.
- I suppose you will arrive in Niagara Falls in the afternoon?
- Yes.
- I suggest you wait till night and then see the Falls with all the lights over and around and then visit it again next day, walk around, take a boat trip and so on.
- Sounds a good idea.
- Here I have a very special information, only for you.
- ???
- There will be unimaginable crowd and traffic jam around the Falls. You will get stuck in the car and there is a very small chance you will get a parking space and watch the Falls close and freely
But there is a secret...
On your way to the Falls you will be passing a solid gate - Water Authority - No Entry.
Stop there and push the gate. It is open. Drive in and there you will see the concrete path. Drive there, switch off the lights and in a couple of minutes you will notice a bridge over your heads and big crowds on it.
Here it is!

Sounded exciting.
In appreciation we bought also ticket for some historical show.

I do not remember how long was the ride, definitely few days.
All the way we were surrounded by unending wonderful green hills and forests.
It exceeded all expectations.

Finally Niagara Falls.
Very nice, sleeping city, no crowds, Vacancy notices every second home.
We reached out accommodation, I asked about the massive baptism, they never heard about it.
Still, the accommodation was very nice and we were happy with it.

Evening came, time to see the Falls.
Everything went according to the instruction
There was a gate with a No Entry note, it was open, we drove in and noticed concrete paving down, drove there...
There was a big sign - Danger, this is a canal, may be flushed at any time, do not enter.

It brought memories of R. Polanski's movie Chinatown, there was a plot of illegal water flush from state owned water reserves. It gave me some idea where we are.
Now I look back with disbelief - I decided to drive, just warned family to be ready for jumping out from the car.
I switched off the lights, soon we reached the bridge. We were noticed, some people directed torches at us. We left the car and climbed up.

The light show was impressive but I was tortured with question - is our car still there?
It was.

Next day morning visit was long and more relaxed.
We had a boat ride but the visibility was very limited.

We walked a bridge under the falls, a narrow path and a curtain of roaring waters, finally view from the top.

It was great but probably view from Canadian site is better.
Historical show was very good but we had no knowledge to appreciate all historical aspects of it.

Time for New York, we drove down to Finger Lakes and there we really felt that we are losing something.
We found there lakes and waterfalls much more impressive than Niagara and what more important - there were touchable...

It was best demonstrated by Michael, at one stage he ran away from us on some narrow path, to the bush. We found him holding branch of some bush
- I am not going from here!
It ended with big tears.

We got accommodation at some camping site.
Walking around we noticed some lady slicing tomatoes into thin sliced and putting slices of onion on them.
- Look, like in Poland - noticed Sylwia loudly.
- Because we are from Poland - was the answer.

We stopped for a chat.
Stanisław and Wanda. They lived already few years in USA.
Stan came first looking for a job as a physiotherapist.
It ended with driving a taxi.
One day he picked up a passenger at the airport.
Stan was very talkative person so he entertained his passenger during a long drive to the city centre.
At the end, the passenger gave him his card
- I liked your talk, contact me, I may have an offer for you.
The name on the card was Potamkin.
This one - CLICK.

After a short interview Potamkin offered Stan a position of his personal driver mentioning that it is only temporary, after few weeks he may have a better offer.

He had.
He found that Stan got much more potential than just driving his boss.
He offered him position of a manager of some used vehicles depo. He will learn from the accountant what are the tricks of this position. He will be expected to deliver each month some well defined profit, if he will make more profit.. it is his own business.
Still he can call Stan for an occasional drive if there are some important visitors coming, he is sure Stan will entertain them with his smart talk.

Amazing!

Stan gave us his phone no - ring, it would be nice to meet, maybe we can help in something.

Previous Post - Washington                 Next Post - New York.

USA 1982 Washington

 It was all night peaceful drive, we arrived in Washington around 5 a.m.

After having some snack and drink we went to the luggage office, produced our tickets.
- Is it your luggage?

- Yes.
- It is impossible, the bus with your luggage will arrive in 2 hours. How come you are already here?
Suspicion sounded in the last question.
There was nothing to do but wait. We felt on us suspicious eyes from the luggage area all the time.

On the other hand we got our own suspicions.
It looked like many of people in the waiting room were homeless or misplaced.
Every few minutes a taxi arrived, quite smartly dressed gentleman got out. He cruised around the waiting room, sometimes sat down for a while and after few minutes was picked up by another taxi.
It was even worse in the male toilet.
From time to time a security man armed with something like a baseball bat entered the toilet with great noise. He ran around the cabins and if the door was not locked, he bang into it with the bat and only then looked carefully inside.

I was not feeling very comfortably. I got some doubts whether it will be safe to board taxi in such a place, but forgot my worries when a bus with our luggage arrived.

We got our luggage, but not without presenting our id documents first and  safely reached our hotel.

Next few days was a kaleidoscope of various exciting places and events.
We noticed a poster that El Greco paintings exhibition is held in the National Gallery of Art.
Too great to miss.
Luckily our children were also impressed.
And there was a reward. At lunchtime we visited the canteen and there some meat was served with rich servings of boiled potatoes and cabbage.
- Like in Poland - said Michael.
- More? - asked the attendant.
- More - confirmed Michael.
Few spoons more and the attendant hesitated...
- More - commanded Michael.
The attendant looked questioningly into our eyes.
- More - was the answer.

Exhibition of dinosaurs, another enjoyable experience...

Then we planned a visit to Smithsonian Institute, but Michael got more sublime preferences.
- What about going again to the El Greco exhibition?

We were surprised and impressed with artistic interest of our children so happily agreed.
Lunch was as satisfactory as the previous day.

Arlington Cemetery...

 Capitol Hill, finally the White House.
We were very touched when we found a statue of Polish national hero - T. Kosciuszko - there.
He was considered one of four most distingueshed generals of the American Independence War...

T. Kosciuszko at the end of his service was awarded massive rural properties. When he was leaving US  going back to Poland, he returned them back to the American government with one condition - free all the slaves employed there.

The irony of current, better informed times, is that during June 2020 riots this statue was vandalized.

Luckily in 1982 we did not look so far in the future, our next step was to travel North, hopefully to Niagara Falls.
I visited the Hertz office to hire a car. they took me to the airport, I found a suitable vehicle and proceeded to the office.
- You will pay by a credit card?

- No, I do not have one, I pay cash.
I noticed confusion on the faces of the clerks.
- But sir, we are not taking cash, it must be a credit card or bank transfer.
- What a joke, you drove me all the way to the airport to tell me this?

Some officials were called in, they took copies of my passport and plane tickets and eventually the transaction was finalised.
Strange,

Previous Post - Florida - Click                  Next Post - Niagara Falls - Click

USA 1982 - Florida

 We flew to Jacksonville with Delta Airlines.
I was very impressed by flexibility of the staff.
The nice person, who checked our tickets and handled our luggage appeared to be also the pilot of the plane.
During the flight he was so friendly that he invited the kids to visit the cockpit..
To great regret of Michael, I did not let him go.
Maybe it was an influence of strict security rules in Poland, but I considered socialising with pilots who perform at that time very responsible duties as quite improper.

Anyway, 2 hours later we landed.
Ken waited for us in the airport and drove us to his family holiday house somewhere in the middle of dense bush.

The place and surrounding exceeded our expectation - dense bush, succulent green vegetation, lake. 
Of course there was a boat which we could paddle around. 

There was however a warning - beware of crocodiles.

As for frequent rains, there were no big trouble - it came always as a relief from humidity, freshened the air for some time. We did not bother to hide from it or to change wet clothes,

After few days Gail brought up a new idea - you can take our car (a small, handy, yellow Renault, and visit Disney World and some other attractions around.
Like St Augustine - added Ken.

It was a great idea.
Orlando - Disney World - great...

We spent 2 days there and enjoyed every minute.
Then Sea World - another great experience.

To return to reality we visited Cape Canaveral and the Kennedy Space Centre there.
For me it was a great experience - touching satellites which were operated by Walter Schirra, whom I remembered for his intervention when automatic control systems failed - CLICK.

Children did not share my enthusiasm.
- There are no buttons we could press.
- Nothing moves, shakes, makes noises.

Well, I could see they did not measure up to space programs.

St Augustine, total change of climate, first encounter with America's history and past times.

On our way I noticed a sign - Daytona Beach.
I associated it with a car race, we were no fans of noisy cars, but beach - yes.
Now I realize it was my only physical contact with Atlantic Ocean.

We returned to Ken's and Gail hospitable home full of memories and with sharpened appetites - time to hit the road.

Bob S. my American friend from Kuwait insisted that we must not miss Washington.
There was an easy connection - direct bus from Jacksonville.

Ken drove us to the Greyhound station, I noticed some concern on his face.
- This is not Greyhound I remember - he said - sorry, I cannot stay with you much longer, but please - keep sharp eye on your luggage.
We did not see much reasons to worry, anyway we will dispatch our luggage in few minutes.

We went to the ticket office - four tickets to Washington.
The teller issued tickets.
- What time is the bus? From which platform?
- Please check on a schedule display.
- And here is our luggage.
- Please take it to the luggage office.

We went to luggage office, they just glimpsed on our tickets and took the luggage.
Now we looked at the schedule.
There was no bus to Washington displayed.
Panic, panic!
I asked some passerby.
- Washington, it must be somewhere on the route to Toronto or New York. Ask the driver.

Sounded very strange, but just some bus arrived - Toronto.
I asked the driver and showed him our tickets.
He nodded with acceptance.

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USA, summer 1982

 Since January 1981, we - my wife Sylwia, our children Ania (11) and Michael (7) lived in Kuwait...

where I (Lech) worked in Kuwait University Computer Centre...

Summer 1982 was coming and we were faced with a serious problem - where will we spend summer holidays ?

Our native Poland was beyond the question, few months earlier a martial law was introduced by Polish (Communist) government.
Europe?
This looked as an only answer, trouble was, that it was very expensive.
What to do?
Staying in Kuwait all summer was difficult to imagine.

Since June, the favourite place for spending weekends (Thursday and Friday) was Getty Beach.
I do not know why, it was some 80 km car ride, absolute desert. Maybe these were sufficient attractions.

Probably all visitors on the beach were foreign professionals working in Kuwait, maybe it was also a significant factor.
One of those professionals was Ken R. a professor of marine Biology at Kuwait University.
Ken impressed everybody with his sailboarding skills.
Sometimes he brought some fishnets and tried to throw them to the see from the shore. I do not remember any catch.
Anyway, he was always welcome in our small Polish community.
We exchanged visits with Ken and his family - wife Gail and daughter Lara - similar age as our Ania.
Of course we shared with him our dilemma about summer holidays and he came out with surprizing proposal - we have a summer home in Florida, you can come and spend with us some time, it will cost you nothing. I have to warn you - Florida in summer is not a very attractive place - it is hot, very humid and with very frequent rains, but you are welcome.

Humid, rainy and surrounded by a dense green bush - looked quite attractive.
I started preparations.
My contract with Kuwait University provided a free return flight for holidays to the home country or to any place reachable by Kuwait Airways.
US visa...
I submitted an application and mentioned our plans to Bob S. an American, my workmate in the computer centre. He was in regular contact with US Embassy in Kuwait - playing soft ball each weekend.
Few days later he came to me, looked quite worried.
You know, my friend from US Consulate told me  that now, due to martial law in Poland, there are many cases of Poles overstaying their US travel visas. Many of them just disappear without any track.
My friend was instructed to reject tourist visa application by Poles. He will be held personally responsible for any case of overstaying visa issued by him.
- Well, Bob, what can I say?
We are mature people with family used to safe and peaceful life. I cannot imagine spending next few years hiding from authorities, resigning from my secure job, not being sure if our children can attend a good school.
But what sort of guarantee can I give?

Couple of weeks later I got a notification about a visa interview
To our surprize the "interview" was organized in a large room crowded by dozens people.
We all could watch the processing of people waiting in a queue.
Here is a notable case...
Young girl comes to the counter.
- Where from are you? - asked the interviewer.
- From Bangladesh, sir.
- What type of job you have in Kuwait?
- I work as a servant, sir.
- Is it common among Bangladeshi servants to spend holidays in US?
- I don't understand, sir. I got 2 months leave every 3 years so I wanted to visit some nice place.
- Do you have any family in US?
- Yes, sir. I got an uncle in New York, he...
The interviewer looked at the girl a second and then - BANG - he stamped her passport.
- Thank you, sir. Thank you - the girl was speechless with joy.
- This is a stamp of visa refusal - explained the interviewer.
- Refusal? But why, sir?
- Because your family will organize life for you in US and we will never kick you out fro there.
- But, sir... but...

- Next, please!

We were the next.
Visa was stamped without any question.

Our first stop was New York.
Joe, an American of Polish origin, who we met in Kuwai,t booked for us a 2 nights accommodation in a motel, 

Just enough time to get over the jetlag. 
2 days later we landed in Jacksonville.

Next part - Florida - CLICK

When I am... Power of One

At the beginning of February 1999 I flew from hot summer in Melbourne Australia, to cold and wintry Minneapolis. My intention was to compete in American Vasaloppet in Mora, Minnesota. The winter was poor in snow but I managed to have decent skiing in few parks in Minneapolis. 

On Thursday, 3 days before the race, I heard on the radio, that the race has been cancelled due to the lack of snow. It was a shock! Next morning I rang the race office. They confirmed the bad news - sorry, the race is cancelled.

- That's impossible! I came here all the way from Australia! It cannot be!
- We are very sorry, but it is cancelled.
- But there is quite good snow in parks in Minneapolis...
- We also have good snow in the forest. But the race is run in the open area and there is no snow there.
- So shift it to the forest!
- That's impossible, we have around 4,000 participants, we cannot squeeze them on narrow tracks. Anyway, the decision is FINAL, there is NO RACE!

I tried the last chance - please connect me with the club secretary. I had Valerie Brown at the other end of the wire and I laid down my proposal: 

I understand that you are unable to run the regular race. But on the other hand there is still quite good snow in the forest. And on another hand, I came here all the long way from Australia. Why not to put these two hands together and let me do a solo race in the forest?
There was a moment of silence and then ... come to Mora, we'll see what we can do for you. I heard smile in Valerie's Brown voice. 

I came to Mora on Saturday morning. It was sunny, cold and snowless. The big, red Dalarna Horse reminded me my race in Sweden 3 years earlier....

I went directly to the race office. It was the saddest place in the world. Thousands of race bags and bunches of medals for finishers. I took one of them in my hand.... Valentine Day.. Yes, of course! It will be Valentine Day tomorrow! A heart, two skiers inside, Love to ski...

- What are you going to do with them?
- They all will be scrapped.
- O, no! You must let me to race for this medal!

We studied maps of ski trails in the forest. Valerie showed me ones where the snow should be OK. I did simple arithmetic...

- Valerie, so if I will ski around these loops until I clock over 58 km, will you give me such a medal?

- Find his racing bag - she said.

A couple of club members drove me to the forest to see how it looks. I found it in much better condition than expected.
After return to the town, I still managed to participate in sled races with some Swedish guests (I am the one in the red top) and eventually went to sleep as the happiest person in Mora.

9 o'clock Sunday morning, blue skies, light frost, no wind. In the Log Cabin I left a bag with warm clothes and some food and drinks. I put on my red racing suit with kangaroos on the back and on the leg. 

I put on my race number 503, START!!! 

For a long time I was the only person on the trails. Later some people arrived, whole families for a relaxing session of skiing in the sun. Some of them were quite shocked when out of sudden a crazy racer appeared...

- Go away from the track - shouted parents to the children - thousand skiers will be here in a moment!

- But they said , that the race is cancelled?

I left them in such puzzled state and skied on and on - 5 times around The Point Trail, 4 times Beaver Dam Trail and every possible trail between and around.
Eventually my log showed more than 60 km, it was almost 3 pm. I skied back to the Log Cabin where some club members waited for me with the medal of my dreams. 

Back from home, I wrote a detailed report of my effort, it showed almost 65km. What a surprise it was when few weeks later I received mail from Valerie Brown. She sent me a special diploma... 

... and another medal. Valerie explained, that some of "Love to Ski" medals have been given to sponsors and volunteers so for me she sent a special one - Winners's Time + 50%, Year 1999...

And there is ONE and ONLY ONE such medal in the World!