Saturday, November 03, 2007

Sobota

Sobota is Saturday in Polish. During NaBloPoMo I will use Saturdays to write about... ahhh... the joys of being Polish. Here is the first installment.

My grandparents live in a tiny country village surrounded by lakes. This village in N.E. Poland, is a hidden gem and people from Europe vacation in quaint villas sprinkled alongside the lakes. It has a beautiful pier that people parade on while enjoying ice cream cones. It is a magical place.

This is where my mother was born. This is where I spent so many of my childhood summers.

A few weeks ago, by frail Grandmother sent out my Grandfather (who slowly is being to lose his mind) to the store for some bottled water. The store is located just a 5 minute walk away from their family home.

"Stas, run down the street and fetch me some bottled water." my Grandmother asks.

"Yes, Yes ... I will go for you." my Grandfather says as he takes off his house slippers. He kisses her on the check and begins his voyage to the grocery store. Minutes later he returns with a paper bag and the goods. My grandmother opens the bag and pulls out an enormous bottle of Vodka.

"Stas, you bought Vodka? I asked for water. Bottled water. We haven't had alcohol in this house since the wedding of our daughters 30+ years ago. Stas, I asked for water." Angrily she puts away the vodka, takes off her slippers, and gets ready to make a return at the grocery store. When she arrives at the store she is confronted by a line. She waits impatiently.

"May, I help you?" The lady doesn't even look up from her post.

"Yes. Yes, you may. My husband came home with this vodka. But we don't drink. He is old and now very forgetful. I need to return this vodka." My grandmother explains.

"No, no returns." She still doesn't look up from her post.

"But, my husband. He doesn't remember. I needed water and not vodka. I need to return it." She tries again.

"No, no returns." The lady repeats.

"Well, if I can not return it, you might as well have it. It is useless in our home. You take this vodka." My grandmother unable to make the return, is now angry.

The lady looks up, her eyes meet my grandmothers, "Yes, I will take it. Thanks. "

4classy comments:

Kellan said...

What a truly lovely story! I felt like I was there in Poland with your sweet Grandmother and Grandfather! I loved this story! Such a cute post. See ya.

LunaNik said...

Hehe...bottled water, vodka...it's all the same to me too!!! I should hang out with your Grandfather...

moosh in indy. said...

I did my sixth grade country report on Poland.
I have to admit it pales in comparison you your description.
Where you have Vodka I had sauerkraut.
Nobody tried it.

Jennifer aka Binky Bitch said...

What a story! I'm interested to read more of your Polish stories!

 

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