Faith in the East and What the West Has Wrong

Above, top to bottom: A Dominican monk waits with a basket for alms after the Youth Mass at 7:00 p.m. outside Holy Trinity Church in Krakow, Poland on November 23, 2008; Bozena Hrycyna, an english teacher in Lviv, Ukraine, explores Holy Trinity Church, which is connected to a Dominican Monastery, before the Youth Mass; the halls of the monastery are open to the public during the day. 

Coming from an American Catholic background, I usually expect church pews on a Sunday evening to be half full with last minute churchgoers, the church to echo with watered-down, feel-good hymns from the Oregon Press, and the sermon to be less than engrossing. In the spirit of the confessional, I'll admit that up till about a year ago, my sisters and I would often challenge each other to thumb wars and regularly break into the church giggles. I consider myself to be a fairly devout catholic that goes to confession if he misses mass on Sunday, but I'm no saint. After Krakow, I want to be one. 

As the splish-splash ring of polish hymns drowns out the howl of a blizzard outside, it seems like the poles might have a monopoly on piety in the Roman Catholic Church. They are here in droves on a Sunday evening, packing the aisles, the stairs, even the altar, and surprisingly, they are almost all under 25 years of age. It might be the famous Dominican Church Youth Mass from George Weigel's book "Letters to a Young Catholic," but it surpasses all expectations. This mass will change your life. 

Poles get it. They seem more alive and comfortable as a catholic culture than any group I've ever had with the pleasure of praying. Sure, they have their problems. Not everyone sings, not everyone goes to church(more than 95% of the country is catholic, and almost all of them attend church on a weekly basis), and they don't always do as they pray. But they are a far cry from France, where the Catholic Church is openly ridiculed, Notre Dame is like the Batman ride at Six Flags, and the people are proud their culture gave birth to secularism.

I've never been in a Catholic Church with open-mic intentions. Churchgoers of all ages walk up to the pulpit to state their intentions, and everybody keeps it short and appropriate. No one laughs, and everyone listens to the sermon. I was struck how the church was packed, shoulder-to-shoulder, and during the transfiguration(when the priest consecrates the bread and wine into the Body and Blood) you could've heard a pin drop. I realized that there is almost always background noise in American Churches, and rarely is the congregation silent. 

I love Poland, and in Krakow, where John Paul II(then Karol Wojtyla) was a student, priest, then bishop and later cardinal, you know you've seen the soul of the country.  

Your friendly Polish tour guide

Above, top to bottom:  Krakowians navigate slippery sidewalks on the evening of November 22nd, in Krakow, Poland on Ulica Sienna; Me in the Rynek Glowny; Bozena Hrycyna, a fellow english teacher at UCU, and Robert Marko, a fulbright professor from Michigan, outside the Franciscan Church in Krakow; Josh Marko trying to not get smothered by falling snow near the Sukinnice; the dark, candlelit underbelly of Awaria(Avar-ria) Bar was filled with smoke and the sound of an old gravely voice singing softly over piano music "see ya lata, alligata. In a while, Croc-o-dile," while we smoked Cuban cigars and sipped spicy hot wine. My lens was fogged from the cold. 
I left for the First World on Thursday night, otherwise known as Poland. A member of the European Union since 2004, Poland has held the title of 'fastest growing economy' within the E.U. and the home of Pope John Paul II, who once served as Archbishop of Krakow. We took the overnight bus from Lviv to Krakow, an all-night fiasco that starts at 10 pm and ends at some cold, dark outpost in the early morning. 

Ukrainian border crossings are like a peek into an oppressive childhood: you're not really sure what you did wrong, but by God, they are going to find something. Ukrainian border guards vacillate between two extremes: bitter, corrupt, ex-soviets and the prissy, drop-dead attractive women wearing strong floral perfumes that burns your eyes. Hey, don't you have to frisk me? Or did you want to bring me in for further questioning? 

The poles, by contrast, might actually go out for a drink with me if I asked them. They are always polite, addressing everyone in the light southern polish accent that I admire so much, and are quick, business-like and punctual. They don't have the hard edge of the germans, but retain the organization. 

This trip, I was taking a fulbright professor, his son and another english teacher on a tour of Krakow. They raved about the city by the time we were done, and just as my friend Amanda Sheaffer, and she'll tell you just how wonderful Krakow really is, and how much of a surprise Poland can be. 

I feel so alive and happy in Krakow, and I fit in so well, that I think I just might move there. After this weekend, and after going on a tour with a Pole who spoke near perfect english, I think I can be a travel guide. I would love to live in Poland for a year, or even a summer, time-permitting. If the opportunity should arise, I think I would pick Krakow, move there, and spend a year learning polish, teaching english, giving tours and freelancing. I love the people, I love the city, and I'm an American speaking better english than most poles. Come the 2012 EuroCup that will be hosted in Krakow, there will be a great need for guys like me.