When I visited my mother's aunt and uncle, my Ciocia Jagoda and Wujek Zenek, they took me to their dzialka. A dzialka is commonly translated into English as an allotment garden. For people who live in city apartments, dzialki are small gardens with tiny houses attached, which allow city-dwellers the freedom to garden and relax. Ciocia and Wujek's dzialka was just a few minutes away from their small apartment near the center of Olsztyn, but it felt as though we were far out in the countryside. Each dzialka that we passed was different. Some had tiny garden sheds and big vegetable patches, while others had actual houses and barbecue pits and even fish ponds.
Ciocia and Wujek's dzialka was utterly captivating. When they purchased this patch of land, there had been a very small shed. Over time, however, they had expanded it into a very small kind of a house. There was a foldout couch, and a small stove, and even a keg of beer on tap. The highlight was a porch they'd added onto the main part of the house, with two comfy couches and a square part cleared away that they told me was for dancing. There was a beautiful garden with a big apple tree and bushes with raspberries, red currants, and wild strawberries (all fruits I associate with my childhood and Poland. My mother loved walking through Mazurian forests and picking berries, and whenever we visited Poland she would reminisce about those times. As a result, berries make me think of Poland and of taking walks with my mother). They had built a small greenhouse for growing vegetables in the back, and Wujek had even assembled a makeshift smokehouse, where he proudly showed me rows of sausage and fish hanging from the ceiling.
 |
| The dzialka |
 |
| Ciocia and Wujek dancing |
For some reason, visiting the dzialka seemed especially emblematic of Polish culture, for reasons I can't quite articulate (although I will try). I loved the idea of living in a city, in an apartment, but not having to give up the idea of a garden. And I loved the idea of smoking your own fish and growing your own vegetables. My paternal grandfather in Mississippi had always grown his own vegetables, too, but it had been years since I'd visited his garden, and as a child it seemed more like a strange habit my eccentric grandfather had than like a possible, sustainable lifestyle choice.
In 2011, Gordon and I went back to Olsztyn for my cousin Olgierd's baby's christening. This was Gordon's first time meeting anybody in my family (besides my mother), so it was a big deal. I knew Gordon would love Ciocia and Wujek, because they are warm and kind and quirky (and Ciocia even plays the accordion). What I had not expected (this shows how little I actually knew him at that point!) was for him to be as charmed by their dzialka as I was. As we walked through the dzialka community, Gordon commented on how nice everything was, but I imagined he was simply currying favor. Then, we walked into Ciocia and Wujek's dzialka, and his jaw dropped. Although Wujek speaks no English, and Gordon's Polish is a bit limited, they managed--somehow--to become lifelong friends in the course of Gordon's tour. Wujek was thrilled to have someone genuinely interested in seeing how the beer keg was installed and hearing how to tell if the cucumbers are ready for pickling.
 |
| Gordon and Wujek discuss grilling techniques |
 |
| Gordon and the greenhouse |
Now Gordon and I frequently daydream about buying some land in Poland and building a little house. Although at first I thought of these plans as only dreams and nothing more, I've gradually come around to hoping desperately that one day we do indeed have a little homestead somewhere in Poland. This past summer, as we got ready to move into our first little apartment together as a married couple, we built a lot of the things we needed. I discovered that Gordon is excellent at making all kinds of things, from guitar rack to tables to bookshelves, and I am a pretty good assistant and a decent painter. It seems possible to build a house. It seems possible to grow our own vegetables and maybe even smoke our own fish.
 |
| Relaxing with my niece Julia |
No comments:
Post a Comment