AUSCHWITZ

I hopped off the train at Ostrava, a dismal and ugly border town. I spent the rest of the night listening to wretched drunks puke and yell in the passenger waiting room. I made repeated dashes into the filthy toilets. I stared at a faded picture of Havel resting on a flea-bitten wall. The Velvet Revolution seemed like a distant fantasy to me now. I had watched it unfold on CNN in San Diego, four years earlier, as my father disintegrated in San Diego, after I had lost all my money. Summer was only fourteen at the time. I wondered if she had even bothered to watch all this exhilarating craziness on the tube. My mind was on dull overload. "Proseem!" shouted the old lady at the counter. The food was awful. "Diki," I muttered. I hated Ostrava. The train for Katowice lumbered in late in the afternoon. The minute we crossed the Polish border, the energy changed dramatically. Poland was another Universe. The sleepy garbanzo-bean looking Czechs were now replaced by creatures bursting with life and energy. The Poles knew what life was about. The Poles projected real confidence and strength. Their square jagged faces were meaty faces of survivors. Mother Poland herself was a maelstrom survivor.
Beautiful autumn colors filtered into my train compartment from the outside. I could see farmers harvesting their crops. A tough, but friendly Polish businessman gave me directions on how to transfer to Krakow. "We may be heading for trouble," my beefy friend sighed. "The last Russian troops will be out of Germany by late next summer, then the next war will start." These were my first memories of Poland.

In Krakow, it took what seemed like hours to make a connection with Jerzy, my Polish contact, on the creaking Polish telephone lines. The loud din of the train mobs made it hard to hear him, but Jerzy eventually showed up in a dinky matchbox car. We loaded up all my tedious cargo and took off to his apartment. It was the beginning of a new adventure.

Jerzy had not really been expecting me. He was building a little retreat center for himself. Jerzy was muscular and compact in his appearance. I liked the vibes of his place immediately. Jerzy was a serious practitioner. He translated spiritual books into Polish and made his living in Norway. Polish money was worthless and inflation made it more worthless day by day. I had found a cozy new refuge for a few days. I went to bed with thoughts of Summer on my mind. I felt very close to her. A strange joker energy filled the air. Jerzy's protectors had accepted my offerings; and I was buzzing with wild and sweaty thoughts. Poland was gonna be all right. Krakow was bustling and beautiful. It beat out Berlin and Prague in my book; and I walked around enjoying the friendly crowds and vibrant air. I could feel an ancient resonance here. Krakow had like Prague, its own Hrad, its own Stare Mesto, and of course its own Josefov. The Poles also seemed to be far ahead of their Czech and former East German neighbors in the dirty race for entrepreneurial savviness. New little businesses were mushrooming up in all kinds of strange little corners and the Poles instinctively knew that SERVICE was important. The Red Stress was fading, even with the new old Commies back in power. The large football-sized town square of Krakow was where all the action was. The Rynek hummed with life at all hours of the day and no cars disturbed the holy scene. Old churches and fountains made an excellent backdrop for guitar-toting poets and barefoot Polish girls. The old Alma Mater of Copernicus was close by. I rushed to pay homage to the man who put the sun at the center of our solar system. It was brilliant insights like these that transformed our weird and narrow human horizons. The Polish astronomer's statue was hidden in a corner somewhere, somewhat lost in all the jazzy hubbub. I found it and stared at it for quite awhile.
Back at Jerzy's a tarot spread confirmed that my long-term relationship with Summer was OK and secure, but that the short-run, whatever that could possibly be, was filled with obstacles. I sighed and accepted this sad and exciting state of affairs. I was on the road now and going progressively eastward. Summer was now my little wish-fulfilling gem and like all good-luck tokens had to be kept very close to one's heart. Jerzy asked me whose side I was on in the brat war. I told him I supported the kid in Tibet. So did he. We were both relieved about this.