Where is Home?

Geri — Thu, 26 Aug 2010 19:23:57 +0000

“Where are you from?” I answered this question dozens of times this summer, from Buffalo, NY to Orlando, FL to Saratoga, NY. I think that most people are really asking “where’s home for you?” and it can be a complicated answer for me, even more so for my Navy-family-born children who’ve never lived in the same place for more than 3 consecutive years of their lives.

In my heart my hometown will always be the place of my birth–Buffalo, New York. I’m a descendant of Poles on my Dad’s side and an Anglo mix on my Mom’s, plus some Czech and French thrown in for exotic affect. Yet I left Western New York to see the world via the US Navy when I was only 19 (I know, I know, I look like it was only a few years ago but it’s really almost a few decades ago). My four years at the US Naval Academy was the longest time I lived anywhere while on active duty.

Each tour has yielded new discoveries for me. Geographically and culturally it’s thrilling to see and meet so many different ways of life, just in our own great country. Add the overseas locations and I’ve experienced a cornucopia of global ways of life.

In spite of all of the aforementioned, I’ve had to come face-to-face with what home means to me these past several weeks. Our family was on a planned vacation home to the States when we found out we couldn’t go back to our home in Russia. Peat fires had spewed toxic fumes and waste into the air in and around Western Russia including Moscow.

At times my home was with extended family, enjoying a great meal or laugh together. Home was sitting with my writer sisters at Romance Writers of America’s national conference in Orlando, FL, catching up on career and life goals and dreams. Home was a day at Daytona beach with a BFF, or with my kids at the Jersey Shore. Home was spending the morning with my husband in a coffee shop. He surfed the net while I wrote. Home was crawling through a yarn shop in Saratoga Springs, or hearing my favorite band sing my favorite song in my hometown. Home was another BFF bringing me flowers or great family friends throwing us a crab feast in Annapolis, MD.

Still, home is more to me.

As I looked at the photos coming across the newswires my heart broke for the Russian people who lost so much, and too many who lost their lives. I was here in the States with family but my heart was with the Russian people and our embassy colleagues, US and other, who had to face the crisis head-on. Where “home” is for me isn’t so complicated anymore. It’s where I’ve left my heart most recently, where my family makes its home for the time being.

When the evacuation orders are lifted and we return to Moscow, I know I’m going “home.”

Warsaw, Poland April 11th-15th 2010

Geri — Fri, 16 Apr 2010 17:28:22 +0000

Relaxation, appreciation for our ancestral roots (Steve and I are both 50% Polish descent), and some great Polish cooking was what our family had in mind when we planned to spend our kid’s Spring Break in Warsaw, Poland. We could never have imagined the reality of arriving in a nation of grieving citizens.

Bookstore Memorial

The President and First Lady of Poland were killed, along with scores of members of the Polish government, in a disastrous flight between Warsaw and Smolensk, Russia. You can find the details in the news if you haven’t already heard them. What I want to share with you is what we witnessed and how, in the midst of such sorrow, my family was able to bring back some hope and faith with us to Moscow.

I was proud of the fact that after landing, we took the city bus from the airport to the plaza nearest our hotel. No 40 Zloty fee for us; our bus tickets were a total of 8 Zloty. We clicked along the sidewalk the three city blocks like the seasoned travelers we are. But then at exactly 12 Noon, there was a deafening silence, then cacophony of sirens, church bells, cars honking. It was an entire minute of grieving. Everyone on the street stopped. Bus drivers and cab riders beeped their horns. It was a collective cry of sorrow and pain.

Glimpse of Old Town Warsaw

We checked in, and told each hotel worker that we met that we were so sorry for their loss. Even if they only spoke Polish I had the feeling they understood our heartfelt condolences.

Chopin Museum--Closed

Our main goal of this trip quickly morphed into taking it day by day and relaxing as much as possible. Our life in Moscow is very full, for each member of our family individually and for us as a family, too. Anytime we can sleep in and have a buffet breakfast waiting for us is a huge treat. I really got used to the lounge treats at cocktail time. Because this is still considered off-season I found a great deal for us online, and we did indeed take advantage of it.

A Willow Waking Up to Spring

Our touring the first day seemed as normal as it could be in a nation with black ribbons on all her flags. I enjoyed the Polish National Museum and seeing the single Botticelli painting. There was a display of majolica ceramics that brought back fond memories of our life in Italy. The church artwork was breathtaking. I couldn’t believe so many of the wood sculptures were nearly 600 years old–they rivaled any modern work I’ve seen in any church, anywhere.

At night we tried to go out to dinner but were met by a procession of Poles with lit candles who were walking to the Presidential Palace to pay their respects and be together. It was awe-inspiring to see so many faces, young and old, affluent and perhaps not so much, all joined together to support one another.

And the candles! Candles were everywhere. They were like our votives but with metal lids to protect the flames.

Candle Prayers

But it wasn’t all about grief. I found joy in the Old City, which was surrounded by pieces of the original city wall. Warsaw was completely devastated by World War II and had to be rebuilt, ground up. The work that was done in the name of a battered yet proud culture is something I’ll never forget.

My biggest disappointment was finding the Chopin Museum closed for the period of mourning. Of course I understand–Chopin is Poland’s favorite son. Even his 200th birthday celebration had to pause to note his nation’s loss. It is supposed to be one of the most modern, innovative museums in all of Europe if not the world. I guess this means I’ll be back!

Warsaw Old Town Original City Wall

I left Poland with a profound respect for my heritage, and with tremendous pride in being an American and from a Democratic society. Because the other thing I witnessed was that this was a peaceful albeit unplanned, unexpected transition for a young democracy. Powerful stuff.

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Where is Home?

Warsaw, Poland April 11th-15th 2010