"One may not be able to triumph over evil, but one need not remain silent in its presence." - Smith Hempstone
Photograph: Fence Railing in Kazimierz (Jewish District of Krakow)
From February 24th to March 2nd, 2009, I was in Krakow, Poland with a group called Global Next Research Institute. I went with three other students and two teachers from North Carolina, and a group of eleven students and one teacher from Florida. In Krakow, we met the teacher of the conference, Dr. Phil Johnson. I've had the privilege to travel to international leadership conferences taught by Dr. Johnson before--a communication conference in France, Belgium and Holland, and a leadership conference in Ireland--so I knew him, and most of my fellow students, quite well.
February 25th, 2009 11:30 a.m.
It's already the beginning of day two--how crazy is that? We left from PTI yesterday and flew into Washington-Dulles, where we met up with the kids from Florida--Jared Mosely has gotten so tall--and had a short layover before boarding the plane to Frankfurt, Germany. In Germany, security check made us late to catch our short flight to Poland, but we made up a large portion of the people on the flight, so they waited for us and we are now in Krakow, where I now sit in my hotel room writing all of this down.
Joanna Pinkerton hasn't felt well for the past couple of days, but the doctor cleared her to travel, and she was fine on the plane, but we'll see how her stomach holds up. Jaron Grimm had a hard time sleeping on the plane, poor thing. Other than that, the flight was uneventful. In spite of Jaron climbing over my knees periodically, I slept for several hours and was well rested by the time the sun began to rise.
There is snow on the ground here in Krakow; our bus driver told us that there was a meter of snow last week. Wow. However, the snow and slush is very suitable, I think, and fits my mental picture of Poland very well. I am very glad now that I borrowed Kalis' boots.
I am rooming with Joanna and a girl named Holly Treesh, who has been on other trips with me, so I am familar with her. In fact, there are only four people in this group that I do not know, but seeing as we are staying in one city all week, we should have a lot more bonding time. Seeing Jared again after two years is wonderful--I'm looking forward to the chance to talk with him and find out what has been going on in his life. And seeing Barnabas [my nickname for Dr. Johnson] again is marvelous. Even though I've only seen him for one week a year for each of the past three years, I feel as though I have known him my whole life; I am eager to learn what he has to teach me this week. I have learned so much from him in the past.
On the bus ride back to the hotel, Barnabas told us a little bit about Krakow, and he laid out the week's itinerary for us, mentioning the fact that he has scoped out a few coffee shops for us to hang out in after the evening sessions; that will certainly be a different experience! He encouraged us to play in the snow in the park around the corner from our hotel, and he also told us that he had a chance to talk to Magda, one of the hotel attendants, who has invited to attend the only English-speaking evangelical church in Krakow on Sunday morning. Wow--I've never attended a church outside of my home country. I am eagerly anticipating the experience.
We're going on a walking tour in just a little while, to get our bearings, so I'm going to clean up a little bit and get my things together. I'll write more later tonight.
Every trip I've been on with Dr. Johnson has been unique, an opportunity for growth that cannot be duplicated. This trip was no exception. The differences this time were easy to spot right off the bat. First, the topic was much heavier than any topic dealt with in the conferences I'd attended before, though I had been to the Corrie Ten Boom house and the Anne Frank house on my first tour. Second, we stayed in one city for the duration of the trip, which allowed us to become more familar with the city and more comfortable in our surroundings, as well as affording a lot of opportunity for fellowship, good conversation, and fun. Third, everyone on the trip was familar to me. There were very few strangers to get to know.
Looking back on the past week, I realize what an ideal situation this was. It allowed everyone a greater level of comfort, which in turn allowed them to be more vulnerable and, I think, made it somewhat easier to deal with the weight of the topic.
February 25th, 2009 9:55 p.m.
Today was a jam-packed day, let me tell you! Our orientation tour began in Muranow Square, in the heart of Krakow, about three blocks from our hotel. Barnabas filled us in on all the local legends, beginning with the legend of the bugler of St. Mary's Cathedral.
The bugler was the watchman in the taller of St. Mary's two towers. It was his job to sound his bugle if he spotted danger, like a storm, a fire, or invader. As the story goes, the bugler spotted invading Tartars climbing over the city walls, and he began to sound the alarm, but he was shot through the throat by an archer, silencing the bugle call. In honor of the legendary bugler, muscians take 24-hour shifts in the tower, playing every hour on the hour, once from each of the northern, southern, eastern and western-facing windows. Each call is cut off mid-bugle, to comemorate the bravery of the man who died.
The leadership lesson we are to take from this Polish legend is that, as leaders, we often see approaching danger, and it is our duty to sound the alarm, even at great risk to ourselves. I consider the prophet Jeremiah, and men such as Winston Churchill, when I remember the brave bugler of St. Mary's. Though these men were the bearers of bad tidings, they held their ground until those around them finally acknowledged the danger.
After my return from Poland, I was reading some of the prophetic passages from Ezekiel, when I came across this passage about a watchman's responsibility:
"The word of the LORD came to me: "Son of man, speak to your countrymen and say to them: 'When I bring the sword against a land, and the people of the land choose one of their men and make him their watchman, and he sees the sword coming against the land and blows the trumpet to warn the people, then if anyone hears the trumpet but does not take warning and the sword comes and takes his life, his blood will be on his own head. Since he heard the sound of the trumpet but did not take warning, his blood will be on his own head. If he had taken warning, he would have saved himself. But if the watchman sees the sword coming and does not blow the trumpet to warn the people and the sword comes and takes the life of one of them, that man will be taken away because of his sin, but I will hold the watchman accountable for his blood.'
"Son of man, I have made you a watchman for the house of Israel; so hear the word I speak and give them warning from me. When I say to the wicked, 'O wicked man, you will surely die,' and you do not speak out to dissuade him from his ways, that wicked man will die for his sin, and I will hold you accountable for his blood. But if you do warn the wicked man to turn from his ways and he does not do so, he will die for his sin, but you will have saved yourself."
-Ezekiel 33:1-9
It is our responsibility as Christians to warn others of what is coming, like Jonah in Ninevah, telling the nations to repent and come under the grace of God before it is too late. This is a solemn charge; if we do not warn them, not only do they die, but their blood is on our hands.
Also in Muranow Square is a statue of Adamow Mickiewiczowi, a poet whom the Poles cherish, not because of how he makes them feel, but because of what he makes them think about. His poetry reminds them of their past--of how things used to be--and challenges them to think of the present--why things are the way they are now--even while encouraging them to look to the future and decide how they will work to shape it. As leaders, we are called to do those very same things.
After this, we had a short break for lunch and some shopping; I made a trio with Joanna and Jaron and we set out to explore. We walked, took pictures, exchanged our American dollars for Polish zlotys (fantastic exchange rate), and looked for somewhere to eat. We went into a couple of different little cafes, but Jaron was having a hard time deciding, and Joanna didn't want to upset her stomach. We went into a Greek place, but decided the food looked too spicy, and went back out on the street.
No sooner had we stepped out into the street than a man across the street began beckoning to us and gesturing towards his restaurant. He was very enthusiastic, so we thought we would at least have a look inside and see what was to be had. We slipped into the little shop, and quick as a wink the man slammed the door behind us and laughed hysterically. The look on Jaron's face was priceless, and the Polish man had a good time telling the rest of his customers about the gullible Americans, I'm sure. I found the food there very tasty; I had something called Mudi, which was beef sausage, red and green bell peppers, and cheese all wrapped up and baked inside a cheesy dough.
Joanna decided to buy a bagel on the street--bagels and pretzels are very big in Poland--and Jaron decided he wasn't hungry, so we wandered through the Cloth Hall, an enormous open building that occupies the center of Muranow Square, where we found leather and furs, amber and silver jewelry, hand-carved chess sets and treasure boxes, antique weaponry, and much more. We didn't buy anything--just kind of scoped it out.
At long last, Jaron decided he might like some soup to eat, so we went into a little restaurant, sat down, and enjoyed being in Poland. We thought we might use the restrooms, but the entire downstairs area of the restaurant, where we were assured the bathrooms were located, looked a bit shady, so we stayed upstairs and waited for the check. And we waited. And we waited.
Finally we were able to pay the bill, but by then we had to hurry back to the statue of Mickiewiczowi, where the group had agreed to meet. We arrived with six seconds to spare, and I know what a stickler for time Barnabas is, and I tend to agree with him. Being late is just rude. "It is the height of selfishness to make everyone else wait on you." That's a direct Barnabas quote, right there.
From there we continued our tour, down the street from Muranow Square to the Church of St. Peter and St. Paul, whose architect spent so much money on the outside of the building that there was nothing left to decorate the inside. So the church is really just a beautiful, empty shell. The leadership lesson we were to take from this was that we need to pay more attention our inner selves--the condition of our hearts--without worrying so much about the outer appearance. We need to develop our character, instead of just trying to impress other people.
"The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart."
-1 Samuel 16:7b
Next to St. Peter and St. Paul's is the much less impressive but far more practical St. Andrews. We proceeded from there to Wawel [pronounced VAH-vull] Castle, from whose hilltop grounds one can see a magnificent view of the Vistula River. The sun was just beginning to go down, giving everything that golden tinge. The castle itself was a mismash of designs--it was made of stone, brick, and concrete, and it had towers, cupolas, spires and gargoyles. It looks like a giant, unifinished puzzle. The castle, however, was not the main attraction at Wawel Hill.
The main character at Wawel Castle was not its king, but its dragon. From the height of the hill you could look down on the statue of Krakow's dragon, which breathes fire every five minutes or so. The legend, however, was far more entertaining even than a fire-breathing statue.
Long ago, before there was a Krakow or a Wawel Hill, there was a village on the opposite shore of the Vistula, where farmers and shepherds lived. The elders of the village forbid the young men from crossing the river, telling them of a ferocious dragon who lived there, and whose wrath would be roused if he were ever disturbed. The young men, however, being young men, did not believe the elders. So they set off across the river to prove that the dragon did not exist.
They accomplished the opposite of their goal, and succeeded in awakening the dragon, which proceeded to burn and plunder the village, carrying off livestock and young virgins [Barnabas paused in the telling of the legend to elbow Nick Hellenbrand], and generally wreaking havoc. Many of the young men tried to slay the terrible dragon, riding in on their white horses and brandishing their swords, but the dragon had them for lunch... literally.
Finally one clever young man, by the name of Krakus, came up with an idea. He killed a sheep and stuffed it with sulphur, and in the dead of night rowed across the river and left the offering at the entrance to the dragon's den. In the morning, when the dragon awoke, it saw breakfast sitting there and gobbled it right up. However, when the sulphur met the fire in the dragon's belly, the dragon became possessed of a raging thirst. It went to the river and began to drink, but his thirst would not be quenched. So he drank, and drank, and drank, until finally he could hold no more and he exploded.
The villagers rejoiced; they crowned Krakus king and named the city after him, and everyone lived happily ever after. There are several points to this story. First, listen to your elders. They know where the 'dragons' are in life. And second, when we do meet up with a dragon, we must be both clever and courageous in our efforts to defeat it.
"I write to you, young men, because you are strong, and the word of God lives in you, and you have overcome the evil one."
-1 John 2:14b
After the telling of this legend, Chris Barrans instigated a snowball fight, and later we went into the visitor's center for some of the best hot chocolate I have ever tasted. Then it was back to Muranow Square, where we were released for further shopping and told to meet back at the hotel in time for supper.
I purchased souvenirs for my family, and for myself a silver Star of David, with an amber stone in the center. Amber, the resin of ancient trees, preserves many things in its gold-toned translucence, and this particular amber is taken from the Baltic Sea. I chose the star set with amber to remind me always that I am to preserve the memory of the 11,000,000 men, women and children who were murdered during the Holocaust.
At the hotel, after supper, it was decided that we would go out for coffee and ice cream at the shop Barnabas had scoped out earlier, which we did. It was a great opportunity to unwind, and kind of relax into Polish culture. And now, after all this writing, I am going to shower and drop exhaustedly into bed... good night.
I hope you enjoyed the recounting of my first day in Poland. More to follow!
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