Seasonal cheer

Around the twenty third of December, I suddenly and mysteriously forget what day of the week it is and when the weekend is. I think this is brought on by a seasonal spate of churchgoing: more than you'd experience in a month of Sundays (ho ho ho).

Around December 27, suddenly the day of the week comes back, only to become lost once again in the confusion leading up to New Year's Eve.

Through a haze of post-holiday lethargy I'm going to try and explain the quirks of a British Christmas for any Polish readers still on board. Inexplicably, we are unable to reconcile a twelve course meal with the concept of 'fasting', even if one of the twelve courses involves eating a creature so horrible it has to be fished out of a paddling pool by a specially-armed Babcia. We just go all out and start on the mince pies. Generally, one goes out for a swift half on Christmas Eve (usually to someone's house, now that you have to pay to get into the pub on Wigilia), one drinks three gins and tonic, one totters over to Midnight Mass and one is somehow half an hour later singing 'Once in Royal David's City' all alone in a Very Quiet Church Indeed. Never mind: what's a quarter-tone between friends? (as our choirmaster said consolingly afterwards).
On Christmas day... hands up who remembered to interpret the Queen's Speech? Never mind, you can listen to her on YouTube, she has her own channel. It's not obsession, just a healthy work ethic. Recommended reading for 2009: Bonjour Paresse. In English.

Last year, I tried to capture on film the flambée-ing of the famous Xmas Pud. The technique of dousing in hot alcohol and setting alight is more commonly applied to light, fluffy desserts such as crêpes Suzette. What could be more logical than extending this to a stodgy kilo of currant-studded suet pudding?

But just to make it clear, the following pictures illustrate HOW TO and HOW ABSOLUTELY NOT TO:

DO

DON'T!!!

Note the prudent match-lighting technique in the top picture.

Do not ON ANY ACCOUNT attempt to emulate the reckless fire-pouring method in the lower picture.

Kitchen cabinets nearly lost their melamine over this.

While we're on the subject of handy tips for Christmas, please exercise foresight in the giving of gifts. Be discerning in your choice of recipients when giving presents which may contain musical components.

They may look innocent. But Beware! These singing reindeer slippers May Seriously Confuse Your Dog.

So here it is...

So. My friend runs this youth club.

And, sometimes, she asks me to help out.

You see... some kind donor gave them a karaoke machine...

... and then my friend bought it a Christmas CD...

"P.... can we have the mic now??"

Życzę wszystkim Wesołych Świąt!

Traveller in Time

Captain's Log, Stardate apparently some time in mid-December 2008

Initially very little seemed to have changed upon my return to the Old Country, but gradually over the past couple of days I have begun to observe subtle differences which lead me to question the true nature of my return journey from Bratislava. Allow me to explain: I appear to have travelled, not only through international air-space, but indeed in time itself.

Do not be fooled by my dramatic air. For an entire day, all seemed normal. I am not attempting to convince you that I have travelled forward into the tortured imaginary lands of George Orwell and HG Wells. Nor have I sped back into some primitive country redolent of Stravinsky's Rite of Spring. However, minute tweaks in the fabric of my everyday surroundings lead me to suspect a short skip of a matter of months.

The evidence is as follows:

1/ Absent-mindedly picking up an advertising leaflet from the coffee table in the lounge (to use as a bookmark) I realised that it was publicising a 'Christmas menu' at a local downmarket eatery. While I agree that it makes sense to book in advance, no-one of my acquaintance has ever yet had trouble getting a table at the Riverhead Harvester.

2/ Foraging through my absent parents' larder, I stumbled upon a solid slab of cake in a crackly cellophane wrapper. Closer inspection of the festive red label revealed this to be nothing more than 'Iced fruit cake', but a tell-tale sprig of holly innocently lurking in one corner raised my suspicions.

3/ Marks and Spencers. A short excursion (in search of wine) left me in no doubt. On the end of the aisles: Advent calendars! In the bakery section: Mince pies! Under beers wines and spirits: Mulled wine! (And an intriguing dark bottle labelled 'Chocolate Ruby'. This turned out to be British fortified wine flavoured with dark chocolate. Excruciating hangover guaranteed: any more migraine triggers and it'd be classified as a weapon of mass destruction).

What conclusions can be drawn from all this? When I clambered wearily up the Ryanair boarding steps (trying unsuccessfully to block out the baritone exuberance of several jubilant Polska fans behind me), I had no idea that I was about to embark upon a Journey Through Time. There was no clue that what I took to be turbulence on take-off - apparently caused by heavy rain over central Europe - was in fact the rippling of the Fabric of Destiny. How could I have guessed that a simple two-hour flight would in fact catapault me two months into the future? Why, in Kraków they weren't even selling lamps for All Saints' Day (at least not any more so than usual).


Or maybe it simply took much, much longer than I thought to get through arrivals at Stansted Airport.

Images of the Festive Season

An English 'szopka'


Christmas crackers: dreaded by the other dog because they contain real gunpowder

The pudding! Normally we pour hot brandy over it and set it alight (like crêpes, but denser), but I think the flames have gone out here.


The spaniel, reclining with a nice glass of chilled Chenin Blanc

Holy Carp!

Yesterday I saw a carp being brained in Stary Kleparz!

I'm sorry I don't have a photo to immortalize the moment, but I was in the car at the time, it was early, and I was distracted by the sight of several babci fishing their Wigilia dinner out of a yellow paddling pool.

Traditionally, you should keep your carp alive until Christmas Eve itself, otherwise the fish won't be fresh. Some families with small children name and befriend their carp and then are unable to brandish the mallet at the crucial moment.

Rumour has it that Radio Trojka periodically plays a Carp Song about a carp who tries to survive Christmas. I have yet to hear it, but then I've been straying from Polish Radio in favour of Classic FM online. I know it's dreadful cheese, but I wanted to hear Christmas carols I actually had an outside chance of being able to sing along to.

Incidentally, does anyone know, from Carols for Choirs 3 (the blue one), that Rutter (or Willcocks)-arranged thing which starts 'In all towns and villages both far and near'? I found out that it's originally Polish. I am trying my very best to learn the chorus so that we have something else to sing in that drunken lull after the Queen's speech. Other than Five Goo-old Rings of course...

Tree decorations

Pictures of the tree outside the office, as promised earlier. Although now there are fairy lights on it. My favourite is the existential reflective one at the bottom. Specially designed to reference French C19th Symbolism.
Enjoy. I'll write a proper post... sometime...

British Christmas

To mark the end of term and the beginning of the festive season, the language school organized a special Christmas workshop for us, with seasonal tea and biscuits.

Naturally we started with a little festive vocab (albeit somewhat muffled by biscuit crumbs). This was an opportunity to clear up a few of the mysteries of Polish Christmas traditions. Such as how exactly does a twelve-course meal qualify as 'fasting' purely by dint of not featuring any meat?

Once this was all cleared up, it was time for 'a short presentation on customs in your country'.
Uh oh.
The snow is creeping its slushy way back into our lives, making people reluctant to leave their cosy homes in the evening, so we were few in number: a couple from Texas, a girl from Bulgaria, an American English teacher and me. Oh and three or four Poles who had been coerced into coming along after their English class finished.

I went last, and repeated a lot of the things that had already been said:

- We decorate the Christmas tree (yes, uh-huh); we go to church and sing carols (nods of recognition); we visit friends and give presents (right, right); on Christmas Day we have a huuuge lunch with turkey (mmm, yes);
- and, after lunch,
- yes?

- We switch on the television and listen to the Queen.

The Queen?

There was a politely interested silence, during which I could sense the others mentally backing away as they remembered I was an alien Brit with strange customs, not least of which was a bizarre attachment to the nation's favourite grandmother.

What does she say?

They were giving me that 'hmm... most interesting....' sort of look which makes you realise that you are splayed on a slide at the wrong end of the microscope.

I tried to explain: - She gives a sort of presentation (I don't have a very wide vocabulary yet).
- What, like a speech? What does she talk about?
- I don't know: the previous year, the future, that sort of thing.

- How interesting...

Christmas

Someone has hung baubles on the conifers outside the office window. I promise to supply a picture as soon as I remember to bring my camera to work.

December is a confusing month in Poland. The sixth is Święta Mikołaj (sorry about the spelling and/or grammar), or St Nicholas' day. This is an occasion for anticipatory present-giving, which I was not aware of. Imagine the horror of being a Polish parent in December. Twice the agony of queueing in Hamley's (whatever the equivalent is here) for a Thunderbirds 'Tracy Island', a My Little Pony Dream Castle and so on*. Birthdays will almost certainly be banished until January.

Generally, there seems to be a healthy separation of Christmas and Advent here, although, as with Halloween, Anglo-Saxon elements are starting to filter through. Traditionally, you shouldn't decorate your Christmas tree (choinka, for the language geeks) until Wigilia (Christmas Eve), but logistics mean that lots of families now put them up a day or two earlier. I mean, who can face the whole tree routine (braving Homebase on a Sunday afternoon, dragging the tree into the house without treading on the dog, Is it straight? Is it leaning?- trying to follow the cryptic instructions for screwing it into the base without spilling soil everywhere, where on earth are we going to plug in the fairy lights??) on top of last-minute visits to godparents, turkey-stuffing, crib services (even when your kids are all well into their twenties), present-wrapping, midnight mass, not to mention dropping into the pub for a swift half or four to escape it all (one of the advantages of having kids who are well into their twenties) ...

Here is a timeline:

01 Nov: Chocolate Santas appear next to the tills in Empik

10-ish Nov: Lights go up in Galeria Kazimierz

30 Nov: Choinka outside main post office

01 Dec: Choinka on Rynek Głowny


05 Dec: St Nicholas Market opens on Rynek.

And here are some pretty pictures:

*I realise how much this sentence dates me.