Taczka Runners 6

Just when I was about to settle for less and deal with the fact that I'll be attending my first TR with a particularly ugly wheelbarrow, things took an interesting turn. It was a day to remember and I'm already looking forward to next year's edition.

10 a.m. - way too early for anything, especially when instructions are not quite clear. Magda and I did our best to fit together the parts of my brand new wheelbarrow, but our best was not good enough:

11 a.m. - after several failed attempts we have to call Przemek and ask for help. On the way to the tent, Pan Janek takes a detour and drives us closer to the first meeting point:

11.15 a.m. - with a little help from my friends, my wheelbarrow is finally assembled:

11.30 a.m. - two hours before the big meeting, I'm working on my masterpiece. Even though it was very last minute, my ladybird was quite successful:

1.30 p.m. - first wheelbarrows show up. Magda's tiny wheelbarrow will prove to be very useful later on, and so will the retro fire siren:

2 p.m. - and they keep coming...

3 p.m. - and we're still waiting :)

4 p.m. - next stop, El Popo. A much needed break, turns out pushing a wheelbarrow around is serious business

5.30 p.m. - Kompresor, one last stop before our final destination. And yes, Sznurek had a high-tech wheelbarrow which actually did play music

7 p.m. - the parking lot outside the tent, our last stop.

My first night in Warsaw was one of those perfect Kato nights.

to be continued...

Later edit

I barely got to smell the cool Warsaw air on my way from the airport to the hotel room, while trying to keep my enthusiasm within normal limits. Only this time, it wasn't just the enthusiasm of finally being reunited with my dream city.

In a way, I was enthusiastic about going back home.

Kato has never seemed so beautiful. The tent and its people were everything I hoped for, and a little more. I had missed them so much, and of course I assumed they missed me too, but once we were back together I figured it wasn't just an assumption, it was as real as it could be. Hearing them tell me we were finally back to normal (5 minutes after showing up in the tent I was already behind the bar, back in action) was one of the nicest things I heard in the past few weeks.

It was the best night at work (yes, now I have another job in Warsaw. A day job. Yet to be seen if it rises up to the standards of this blog, if it's worth being mentioned here.)

... followed by a perfect Sunday morning - in the tent, where else? - and a lovely lunch with Pan Janek and his family. When they told me I could spend my weekends at their place, and that I'll always have my place behind the bar, I got so over emotional that I felt the need to change the subject before I started crying.

So this means I'm back to my old pattern: two cities, late night trains and always having something to look forward to. It worked just fine between Bucharest and Brasov, I don't see any reason for it not to work between Warsaw and Katowice.

And because of this pattern, I'm back to my old self, the one I'm so happy with: energetic, ready to change the world, ready to take on any challenge. Happy to be in my shoes. I know now how it feels to be grateful for what you have.

A questionably nice surprise

Two days ago, I met Asia and her friends in the tent to celebrate her birthday. My good mood, knowing I was about to meet some people I hadn't seen for quite a long time, and that I was about to enjoy a fun night out at the workplace, did not predict in any way the melodramatic and somewhat embarrassing outcome of the night.
The bomb exploded the minute I set foot in the tent. I wanted to turn around the very next minute, leave the bar without any further explanation and never come back. By some sort of magic, I managed to control my emotions. For a while.
There she was, sitting behind the bar, pretty, young, with her beautiful brown locks: the new bartender. It should've crossed my mind that with the new bar soon to be open for business, with me leaving Kato in two weeks, there would be someone new showing up, sooner or later. I just didn't expect it to be that soon, and I certainly didn't expect to find her there, without some kind of previous warning. So I did what any sane person would do. I sat down with Asia and her friends and kept staring at the new girl, while trying to run a decent conversation. Of course this only lasted for about half an hour, after which I was incapable of any kind of conversation, decent or not, smart or completely idiotic. There I was, having beers with some of our regulars, while the new girl was pouring us the beers. Well, not me, because whenever I wanted a refill, I'd make sure Magda took care of that. I was sad and disappointed and I couldn't hide it. The one place that had really felt at home, that gave me the feeling I was part of something and I belonged somewhere, in a city I disliked and had nothing in common with, had slapped me in the face so hard that my eyes filled up with tears almost instantly. For a while, I managed to hold them back. Unfortunately, a few hours and several beers later, having observed the new girl in the tiniest detail, I couldn't control my tears. The tent has witnessed a lot, but I somehow doubt it's seen any of its bartenders crying because of it. Which was very frustrating, in the end, for several reasons. First of all, Sanchez would have never ever cried in the Tapioca. Second of all, I'd rather be caught wearing no perfume than be seen crying in public. And third of all, I had no real reason, except my oversized ego which just couldn't tolerate the thought that I was replaceable. Not even replaced, just replaceable. The good part of the story is that most people in the tent are normal and nice and tolerant. Top of the list is Pan Janek, who in the end explained the whole situation, which was in fact a matter of the obvious (they really, really need new people), gave me a hug and sent me home, telling me he expects me to show up the next day and to train the new girl.
And that's exactly what I did. Having calmed down and with a more rational approach to the whole situation, I showed up at work yesterday. For two hours, I did nothing but talk to people, occasionally selling beer to my favourite clients, and let her do the rest of the work. By midnight, I was alone behind the bar and happier than ever before to be there.

My perfect weekend

On Friday, after being kicked out of the library, Asia and I decided it was time for some cultural delights. So we adventured to the northern part of Kato, ready to explore the workers' district and planning to visit the art museum. After a trip that seemed to take ages and to take us out of the city, we reached our destination. Like the neighbourhood itself, the art museum was deserted, so we practically had the naive art exhibition all to ourselves. And then we voted our favourite artist. There's a voting fever in the air, wherever I go, whereer I turn, I can vote for something. Not that I actually do it all the time, but I have this option. Unless spent somewhere by the sea, summer can really suck, so maybe that's why we spice it up with votes and charts and statistics.
The houses in Nikiszowiec look identical, and there's nothing but houses in the entire district, except for the market which has a post office and a church. It used to have a bar, too, but something really odd must have happened, since the bar was closed and it seemed to have been in that state for quite some time. So on our way back to Ligota we stopped for a beer at a very optimistic bar, one that wishes you "happy holidays" in the middle of July. I was hoping we'd get presents, too.








In the meantime, back at the tent, we're in business with the new bar. Well, almost, since it's still a few weeks to go until the grand opening, but the new tent is in our back yard, raising a lot of questions about the kinds of drinks we'll serve, the heating system, the inauguration party - questions we obviously answer with an evasive "you'll have to wait and see", as we also have to wait and see. I'd suggest putting bourbon on the menu. The new bar is quite controversial among the old bartenders: Titior claims he won't ever work there, Magda thinks the scond bar doesn't really fit in the backyard of the first bar, Jacek is wondering how we're going to split the shifts and Pan Janek is busy trying to keep everything under control. As for me, I'm quite happy and enthusiastic with our new baby, mostly because now I really feel I'm part of this from the very beginning. I've heard so many stories about how the tent began 10 years ago, but it is only now I am able to tell a story of my own, from the very beginning. So yes, if I'll be around, I'll work in the second bar, even though rumour has it this bar will be a non-smoking place, and my fellow workers keep teasing me about it.


Sunday morning I took myself to the movies. Nothing compares to having the whole cinema to yourself, so that you can fully enjoy the life of Mademoiselle Coco avant Chanel. I wore my mother's pearls and later on went shopping for shoes and boxes. As I started packing, I realized I was starting to say goodbye to the city. After almost a year, I'm not expecting anything more from Kato. If, however, something is going to happen, I'll consider it a nice surprise. But as far as I'm concerned, I have no expectations. And for the first time in my life, I have no idea what the future holds. And I'm sort of enjoying this freedom, for I know it won't last forever.

Growing older is not that bad, after all

It was the first time I was away from my friends & my family for my birthday. In a manner of speaking, because I spent it with my Kato friends, who are also my sort of family here. There could be only one place for the party: my second home, the tent.
As I'm always late, yesterday was no exception, and so in an effort to make it almost on time, I had to ignore the part where I'm tidy and organized:

And even though I had a day off from work, I still spent parts of the evening behind the bar. Jacek was in charge of the beers, I was doing my best to get the perfect Cosmo:



The ladies:


It so happened that someone else was throwing a party at the amphitheatre in the woods, so we had to check it out. The concert was rather boring, but the walk in the woods wearing high heels was quite adventurous. This was how we managed to spill most of our third Cosmo on our dresses and bags, but it was worth every drop.

I was very impressed by the crowd that showed up for my B-Day in the woods. Zuza and Titior were impressed by the music. Tomek and I were not very much into the concert, then again we have bigger fish to fry (Dropkick Murphys on the 12th of July).



25

Back in the tent, Smakol asked Ina and me if we could be his sisters. It was an offer we couldn't refuse :)

Later that night, Magda and Przemek decided I was ready for the big initiation. Back in winter, they told me I can't leave Poland without drinking cheap wine in the park. This was the perfect opportunity. And so we headed to the playground, which Magda enjoyed to the fullest before the wine part (after the wine part, things got just a little bit blurry.

Even though I didn't make it to the seaside, I still had sand in my shoes. And in my hands. And on my jeans. Almost as if we had been drinking on the beach, not in the woods near the tent. We did have a little technical problem while trying to open the bottle, but nothing serious, nothing a few good old tricks couldn't fix.



And in the end, there were the fireworks:

Tribute to W.C. Williams

Last weekend, at about the same time with those Juwenalia things (which, by the way, continue this weekend), some of our regular customers had their own party.
I'm not even sure I should call it a party, because it was more of a parade - outdoor activity - playing silly - having loads of fun kind of activity, which of course ended in the tent.
Taczka Runners is exactly what the name claims it is :) Taczka means wheelbarrow, and once a year these people gather and run around with their wheelbarrows. Something like that.
So they met somewhere in Piotrowice, I guess, (at least I think that's Piotrowice in the pics) and pushed their wheelbarrows all the way to Ligota, towards the final destination, the tent, occasionally stopping for a beer or two and trying out unconvetional means of transportaion. As two of their favourite bartenders joined the fun & the parade (Magda and Jacek), their other two favourite bartenders (Titior and me) could barely keep pace behind the bar. One by one, we ran out of glasses, beer and energy, but I can't remember when I've had that much fun in the tent. Brilliant.
My mind's made up. Next year I'm joining them. They brought me a t-shirt with the logo of Taczka Runners, now all I need is a wheelbarrow. A red one :)

Create a Free Slideshow

How I managed to get really pissed off in the tent

It's not uncommon for people to get drunk in the tent.
It's also pretty common for some of them to come to the tent with their kids. Leaving aside the fact that 4-year-olds drink unthinkable amounts of Coke and eat tons of potato chips, what annoys me is seeing the adults getting plastered under the eyes of their children. Luckily, this doesnt' happen frequently. But when it does happen, it's enough to knock out my zen & positive energies.
Two nights ago I was behind the bar and all of a sudden this little one shows up, asking if he can help me. Sure, kid, except that it's not so crowded now and I spend my time smoking and chatting to those who come by for a refill.
Now I know I can easily relate to mostly anyone, but I've never been a magnet for kids. Whenever there's kids around, they will most likely not see me as a potential friend / playmate. This little one felt safe behind the bar, that's my bet (I'm aware I may be over-interpreting the whole situation, but I somehow feel I'm not). Anyway, he started asking questions about the beer kegs, the cash register, the Batman action figure we keep behind the bar, I was doing my best to answer clearly, without making any grammar mistakes - I don't care if my Polish is not perfect when talking to grown-ups, but with kids it's different, they should hear a language that's spoken correctly and without mistakes. And so we spent quite some time behind the bar, until the Father shows up and says "it's time to go". The Kid says no, he asks for his toys and tells me a story I didn't quite catch, but I kept asking questions and then he showed me how his toys glow in the dark. In the meantime, the Father, who had serious problems with his diction (bigger than mine, a foreigner who's just learning the language, bigger than the Kid's) insisted they should go home.
Eventually they left. By bike. Or at least the guy tried to ride his bike, which had a baby's chair attached to it. And of course he couldn't - he could barely stand, not to mention walk (actually, he looked as if he was sailing). So he fell and so did the kid. Luckily, at about the same moment, one of the guys who sometimes hangs out in the tent, and one of the few people who know that drinking and driving aren't a match, took the bike back in the tent, told us he'd leave it there until the next day and took the two home by car. I was extremely sorry for that kid, and utterly annoyed for the rest of the night, no smiles were delivered with the beers, no chit-chats, and I guess it was quite obvious by the look on my face that I'm not exactly in the best mood. When Pan Janek showed up around midnight, the first thing he asked was: "you've had enough today, haven't you?".
Now I don't particularly care if my customers drink until they fall into a coma. Or into something else. It's really none of my business. Last winter, when I was somewhat more emotional and one of our old regulars almost froze to death after having spent a few long hours drinking in the tent, I felt quite guilty. In the end, I had been the one pouring him beer. Now I don't care anymore, I don't feel responsible in any way, they pay, I pour, end of story, they're all adults and it's their decision to drown whatever they want to drown in alcohol. Although my theory is that problems can't be drowned, for they are excellent swimmers, and if you're happy, you're naturally high. For the rest of it, you can sometimes get drunk (it happens to all of us, once in a while), have a drink with your friends, have another drink if you feel like it - but there's a huge difference between enjoying a drink every now and then and being an alcoholic.
Things are more complicated when there's kids involved. And I sometimes hate my lack of initiative and my incapacity of doing the right thing. That child does not belong with that father, and in this particular situation no argument can convince me that the little one is better off with that guy, just because he happens to be his father. But I just stood there and did nothing, I'm still sad when thinking about the little fellow, and the worst part is that I have absolutely no idea how can things be sorted out.

Jak nie ty to kto?

I found this inscription meaning "if not you, who?" under a bottle cap which marvelously cut my finger in half (almost).
Today, and only today, I'll have to disagree with Cat Stevens. The first cut is not the deepest :)

As never seen before

Andrzej took this unbelievably beautiful pic of the tent. Now you know me: that place fascinates me, it borders fiction and after all those months it hasn't lost its magic.
But I'm still not able to find the words having the same enticing power this photo does.