Train to Hel

We took a late train to Hel. As it screeched along the peninsula in northern Poland, the baltic sea reared up on either side of us. Fisherman and laborers got on and off as we made our way to the very tip. We accepted a room from an old woman who brought us into communist-style block housing and delivered us to her son, whose place we'd be staying in. None of them spoke English, not even the man's 12 year old son, Oscar. Pantomine ensued. Toilet handle jiggling, tooth brushing, "Where's a restaurant?" belly-rubbing mime style stuff. The guy eventually turns on the tv for us and Bugs Bunny blares in polish until we figure out the off button.
We dine in an incredible seafood restaurant surrounded by pieces of ship and nautical equipment. The locals sing along to the sea shantys. That kind of place. Half way through dinner, an air raid siren tears through the music. It's so loud, coming from across the street, that we cover our ears. A short wave radio crackles to life, bringing a strong polish voice to the mix. It seems to be giving instructions. Rivkah and I start looking for the evacuation to start. Or the smoke to start billowing. But the music just gets louder and the people start talking more with their hands. This eardrum-piercing insanity goes on for a full minute or more and then just stops. No one spoke English out there so who the hell knows...
After a beach day on the Baltic, we head to Krakow and rent an apartment for a few nights. The touristy area is way to annoying to deal with, so we end up spending most of our time in the old Jewish part of town. It's crumbly and beautiful. We spend a night drinking incredible Polish vodka with an anarchist/actor/book publisher/tavern owner who talks with us well into the night. He fills us in on recent Polish political events. There's definitely a lot of discontent here right now amongst the younger Poles. The government, run by twin brothers, is beholden to the Roman Catholic church and things appear to be quickly swinging to the right. Homophobia is on the rise, religion is being taught in schools instead of gym and art, and some claim that the climate of conformity is starting to resemble communism.
Kuba, the anarchist, has a condom machine in his bar. It's the only one in Krakow. It's a big contraption-I banged my elbow on it trying to move around in the tiny bathroom. When I comment on it, he says that the condom supply company/machine repair guy went out of business a year and a half ago. The machine is broken and empty- he now has it up only as a symbol of defiance against the church.
We left Krakow after a heavy final day at Auschwitz. In one room sits a massive pile of luggage that once belonged to some of the Jews who were put to death here. Big white letters spell out ANNI METZNER on one.
Just rolled into Slovakia this morning. We're in the Tatras mts., 20 minutes away from where my great-grandparents lived. It feels pretty incredible to be here. We're renting a guest room from an older Slovak couple. A plaque on the side of the house proclaims that Pope John Paul II spent the night once. We ask and it turns out to be true. The man's father was visited by the Pope in 1971 and he slept in the same room we are staying in. In the "brush-ups with fame" category, does that score more points than my previous high score of riding an elevator alone with Dr. Ruth? I think so. Tommorrow we start a two day backpacking trip through the incredible Tatras.