I used to be ragazza senza terra, a man without a country. Neither from here, neither from there. Suspended. Now .. I'm a little bit from here and a little bit from there, a man of two countries. Too Polish in England, too English in Poland. In total 1&1/4 of a man.
First day in the land of the fathers. For a change a very Catholic day. Everyone is smoking cigarettes. Cemetery sunk in the forest. Roots embracing bones and memories. Stones, flowers, candle lights and crosses in a warm late summer day.
My first meal, my favourite. So underestimated due to its simplicity. Purity and richness of basics. Heaven on earth. Fresh, still warm, dense bread with a fair layer of a real milky butter. That's all. Perfection. Bułka z masłem :)
Family venture to the church. When was the last time I visited any church for a reason other than sightseeing or pendulum-gazing? But there it was, a Holly Mass. Priests, prayers, the Bible, God. The spirit of my grandma. (Okay, I couldn't resist, and a new story line in my head)
Ah the family conversations! It was lovely, it was great but it requires so much focus to be able to follow at least two parallel stories/discourses (that are fragmented and full of digressions) and to answer the right thing to the right person at an appropriate time and, most importantly, to leave no man behind, no man excluded... Welcome home.
And let's not forget a new toothbrush and new slippers awaiting at home, guarded by an old, faithful dog.
