I know nothing.

I've caved.

The thought of writing a blog while I'm in Poland the next 7 weeks crossed my mind awhile ago but I dismissed the thought. I had many doubts- mainly I didn't want it to become one of those cheesy travel blogs- and I have a tendency to become cheesy when I try to describe things or when I write about experiences or feelings.

However, after numerous encounters even in my first few days of making a fool of myself in grocery stores and on trams, in a world where I hardly know the language and sporting a north face yellow backpack makes me stand out in a crowd, if nothing for the entertainment of myself at a later day, I have decided to cave in and write.

Writing tends to be where I find my own voice. It's where I come back to me, in a world surrounded by noise, yes, but also in a head that is constantly processing and thinking. Writing grounds me and brings me to me. 

I also had a dear friend who encouraged me to do it as well

So for those reasons, here I am.

I know some polish. Like 100 words. In my brain, sometimes that feels like a lot.I can order coffee.  I can say thank you. I can say excuse me when I am continually bumping into people on a tram or trying to get into the bread box at the grocery store. 

My brain and reality, however, are disconnected. In reality, I know pretty much nothing. 

It's humbling to walk up to a check out counter and have the cashier try to tell you something and you stare blankly, awkwardly.

I've figured out how to say "no" if they ask me if I would like a bag and if I am paying with credit card or cash. But what about the time I got in line and the cashier said something to me- which I later realized was he was telling me that lane was closing after the person in front of me. I just smiled and stayed in line as he and the woman in front of me smiled and made comments about me to each other. I'd like to think those comments were along the lines of "Isn't she cute? She has no idea what we're saying but I'm glad she is here" and "Yeah, sweet thing, I saw her over at the bread and she was pretending to look like she knew what she was doing but had no idea, bless her heart." I'm sure it was something like that.

Or how about if you were supposed to weigh the veggies and put a sticker on them for the cashier to ring up BEFORE you get to the register. A mistake I have unfortunately made twice. Maybe now I have learned. Today i got a head shake as the cashier went and did it for me.

So you see, I really know nothing.

Learning. Even if it's not being fluent in the language, but how to live in the culture. Always learning.

I was asked by a stranger at a tram stop the other evening what my first impression of Kraków was. After informing him that I have been many times, he asked me if it has started to become just more of the same. Nothing new, nothing special. My answer to him was a simple, no, I still love it. As I think about I more, in some ways I would say it has become more of the same, but in that way it has become more special. Familiar. There is so much goodness in the familiar, in the knowing. Being known. 

What's the balance between keeping the new and the known? The ability to keep something as familiar but to stop it from becoming ordinary. To appreciate people and places for who and what they are, for continuing to see them through new yet familiar eyes, and yet never taking them for granted. 

A balance I seek to find.