I remember a bleak time in Poland when the economy was so maddeningly out of touch with the needs of its people that anyone lucky enough to own a car would remove their windshield wipers at night and take them inside. In their command economy -- oblivious to the laws of supply and demand -- some official forgot to order wipers and consequently, they weren't for sale anywhere. Inspired by a hungry black market, thieves would work late into the night snapping them up.
Nostalgia in a Polish 'milk bar'
Krakow's main square is pleasant day or night.
Advertisement
Many Americans remember Poland as bleak and rundown -- full of rusting factories and smoggy cities. I remember a time when the air was so polluted it turned my hanky black the day I entered the country. Glum locals used to stand patiently in line at a soda stand to sip a drink from the same tin cup tethered to the stand by a rusty chain.
Of course, those days are long gone now and many American visitors are stunned speechless when they step into Krakow's vibrant main square, Gdansk's lively streets, or Warsaw's colorful Old Town.
While a new affluence has arrived, visitors can still see a variety of Polands: Lively and cosmopolitan urban centers; breathtaking medieval cities showing off a dynamic history; grimy industrial zones still cleaning up the mess left by the Soviets; and hundreds of traditional farm villages in the countryside.
As I'm more nostalgic for the humble old days than most locals, I'm sure to venture into the countryside. City dwellers often talk about the "simple people" of Poland -- those descended from generations of farmers, working the same plots for centuries and living an uncomplicated, traditional lifestyle. Spending time with this large contingent of old-fashioned, down-to-earth folks can be a great way to get a true sense of Poland's story.
Sometimes my nostalgia for the old times confounds my Polish hosts. In Krakow, my friend, Kasia, wanted to treat me to a fine dinner and asked where I'd like to eat. I said a "milk bar." Kasia said her mother would never forgive her if I took her American friend to one of these bleak government-subsidized workers' diners. I begged, promising I'd never tell, and Kasia agreed.
For me, eating at a "bar mleczny" -- or "milk bar" -- is an essential Polish sightseeing experience. These super-cheap cafeterias, which you'll see all over the country, are a dirt-cheap way to get a meal, and, with the right attitude, a fun cultural adventure.
Advertisement
