Week Six: Alex's Visit

Last week, my fabulous step-brother Alex made the journey from Copenhagen, where he is studying engineering, to Warsaw to visit!

He arrived Monday night and left Friday morning, so we had a few days to do things around the city and to relax and catch up.

On Tuesday we went to lunch at an Italian place on Nowy Swiat, which is a main tourist street in the city, and then walked to the Palace of Culture and Science and rode the elevator to the terrace, which is on the thirtieth floor.  It's the tallest building in Warsaw and in Poland, and althought it was a bit of a cloudy day, there were great views of the city.  Normally those heights make me nervous but this was okay, probably because of the grating on the sides.

We spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the mall and then headed to dinner, stopping for a beer along the way.  We ate dinner at a restaurant called Solec 44, which is a homey place with semi-fancy food options and a ton of board games to play while you wait for your food and eat.  Alex beat me at Labyrinth a few times while we waited and after we ate.  They also have a huge drink selection.  Alex and I both accidentally ordered shots, thinking we were getting flavored drinks.  Oops.  The burgers were good and we headed home, stopping for another beer on the way.

                                      

We also got to Skype with Mom and Stephen, who had a little too much fun with their Skype character options, but it was really great to see them.  I miss my family a lot.

Wednesday we took a tour of the Old Town.  We headed out a little early to grab breakfast.  Unfortunately, they forgot the ice in my smoothie (although Alex's was fine, thankfully), so it was a little like baby food, but the pastry was good.  Anyway.

The Orange Umbrella Tours are free and really informative.  I had been on one when I stayed at the Oki Doki and because we had a different tour guide this time, we stopped at different places and he told different stories.  It was great, although both of us forgot sunscreen so we were rocking the redneck look by the end of the tour that afternoon.

We headed from the Old Town over to Praga, the district across the Vistula River, to eat lunch at a milk bar called Zabkowski.  Milk bars are Polish cafeterias.   They date back to the end of the nineteenth century but became especially popular during the Communist era, when things were tough economically.  The cafeterias provided a means of feeding people cheaply and encouraging a sense of camraderie.  Originally milk bars did not serve many meat dishes, hence the milk part of the name, but now there are plenty of meat-stuffed pierogi and other kinds of meat.  Alex had chicken soup and meat pierogi and I had chicken soup and potato dumplings with mushroom sauce.  Afterward we stopped to see the bears at Park Praski, also in Praga, but they were taking a nap.

                                   

Alex at the milk bar.  If you notice, the guy in the back is having some trouble, although it all turned out fine. 

That night we had dinner at the pizza place just down the road from my apartment.  They let you set up big lawn chairs and a small table outside, and since the weather was nice, it was perfect to hang around and drink a beer while waiting on our food.  After dinner, we stopped by the grocery store to pick up some food for our park plans the next day.

                                               

Some help posted in the bathroom of the pizza place.  

Thursday is free day at Lazienki Park, the biggest park in Warsaw, so Alex and I made lunches, put on suncreen, and walked the mile or so from my apartment to the park, where there are lots of older buildings and palaces built by Polish royalty.  The name of the park translates to "Royal Baths."

                                         

        The Palace on the Water from across the pond.

Red head

Don't blink! 

The translation of the title means "stuffed."

A room in one of the houses with zodiac symbols. Sagittarius.

Scorpio

Fluffy on the fireplace. This house focused on Greek and Roman mythology.

Woof.

In front of the Palace on the Water

One of the female peacocks running around the park.

After a day at the park, we headed back home and then went to the city center.  We had dinner and beer at another place on Nowy Swiat and then headed home early so that we could sleep and be ready for Alex's early flight.  We walked to the bus stop at 4:30 the next morning.  It was so good to see Alex and I was really sad to see him go.

I spent the rest of the week and weekend doing things that needed to be done and take up more time than I remember, probably because I have never done them here and also because I walk everywhere.  I got a haircut, which was an interesting experience.  There are things that make me nervous about being a butch woman abroad, and my hair is one of them.  When I go to ask for the kind of haircut that I want, it's very possible that I'm immediately outing myself with no idea how the person will respond.

I googled and found a haircut place where the man was very nice and assumed that I wanted my hair for its "practicality."  "Ah!  You want hair like a man! You are a very practical young lady!"  I'll take it.  Here's a picture of the new haircut, which my brother said made me look military.

Every Sunday at 12pm and 4pm, there is a free concert by the Chopin memorial.  They have pianists from Warsaw and elsewhere play for an hour.  It was a beautiful day and tons of people were there.  It's one of those things that I wish that I had done sooner and that I can't wait to do again.

The crowd at the memorial. They set up a tent for the pianist.

I also went to the post office, went to the grocery store, and went to a new coffee shop, Kafka, that was billed as gay-friendly.  It's close to the KPH and was very busy, and it was a great way to spend an afternoon.

This week I'm particularly thankful for:

1. Alexander!
2. The guy who helped me to buy a bus ticket when the machine went wonky and then gave me his day pass to use when he got off the bus
3. The man who, when I asked him where the post office might be, tried to help even though he spoke no English and my minimal Polish is shameful and then came to find me down the street and walked me to the right place.  I'm still not sure how he figured out what I was asking but I am really grateful.
4. The man who cut my hair to look "like a man" and spoke to me about Johnny Cash and Elvis while doing so.

A Little Music

Here's my first Watson travel playlist, made up of songs that made me think of travel, songs that put me in a good mood, and songs from friends, from awesome mix cds and letters sent home with me after graduation.

1. Safe Travels- Peter and the Wolf

2. Don't Carry It All- The Decemberists

3.  You Know I'm No Good (Remix)- Amy Winehouse

4. Atlas Hands- Benjamin Francis Leftwich

5. Montezuma- Fleet Foxes

6.  Can't Hold Us- Macklemore and Ryan Lewis (feat. Ray Dalton)

7. Sons and Daughters- The Decemberists

8. Wait So Long- Trampled by Turtles

9. Anything Could Happen- Ellie Goulding
10. Rivers and Roads- The Head and the Heart
11. Closer- Tegan and Sara
12. Looking Out (Live)- Brandi Carlile (with the Seattle Symphony)
13. For Emma- Bon Iver
14. Cups- Anna Kendrick (Pitch Perfect)
15. Mountain Sound- Of Monsters and Men
16. Shake It Out- Florence and the Machine
17. Little Pieces- Gomez
18. Murder in the City- The Avett Brothers
19. Hard Way Home- Brandi Carlile
20. Hometown Glory (Live)- Adele


Here's a link to listen on Spotify, minus Peter and the Wolf, which sadly isn't available.

Week Five: The KPH

I am once again almost a week behind in my posts.  Hopefully this won't be a trend but this week I'm grateful to be late because it's the result of a fantastic visit from my step-brother, Alex!  I'll do a whole post on his visit and how awesome it was to see him and catch up (with tons of pictures for you, Mom.  We really tried.). 

In terms of last week, I wanted to write about the KPH (Kampania Przeciw Homofobii/Campaign Against Homophobia), which is the wonderful place where I've been spending time talking to people and working on my Watson project.  The KPH is a non-profit that works to educate and advocate for the LGBT community of Poland.  From their website:

"We conduct a wide range of activities in order to increase tolerance and acceptance while tackling stereotypes and prejudices including:
                     -Empowering members of the LGBT community
                     -Education
                     -Research and report writing
                     -Social awareness campaigns
                     -Combating sexism and working towards gender equality."

Slava gave me these to borrow as a sort of introduction to queer Warsaw and Poland, and they have both made for interesting reading.  The report was put together by the KPH in conjuction with two other queer Polish organizations.  I'm still working through it and hope to talk about what I learn in more detail in a later post in combination with some interviews with queer Warsavians. 

Here's a picture of their offices, where they have covered the not-so-pretty window grid in very pretty rainbow.  Their offices remind me of the Memphis Gay and Lesbian Community Center.  They're cozy and full of various resources. 

                                     

Here are pictures of some of the neo-nazi stickers that were placed on the front of the office recently and have been placed there in the past.

Last fall, when Professor Haas and Professor Saxe began to help me plan a Watson proposal, I started emailing LGBT organizations around the world to try and make connections.  Jan at the KPH answered my emails and asked me in return what I might be able to do for them if I were to volunteer here or hang around talking to people.  It was an important question and made me think about every stop that I'll be making on the trip.  It's easy enough for me to take from the organizations in various cities: stories, help, food, connections, a social life, recommendations for a place to get my haircut.  As both Jan and the internal interview committee pointed out, however, I needed to be able to give something in return.  I don't have any illusions about the fact that I'm taking more than I could possibly be able to give, but I hope that I have at least been somewhat helpful and that I'll be able to spread the word about the work of the KPH in a way that is valuable.  Jan informed me that it's "cucumber season" here, which is to say that becauase it's summer and parliament is out of session, things are so slow that the media might report on cucumbers.  Still, there are things happening and people working in the KPH every day.

With that in mind, Jan introduced me to Slava who got me acquainted with the offices and asked me to work on translating a KPH exhibit called "Berlin-Yogyakarta" from English to Spanish.  Although my Spanish is a little rusty and I have never had quite the vocabulary needed to describe Nazi Germany in Spanish, it was great practice for my next stop, Buenos Aires, and some truly fabulous friends from home agreed to edit the work that I did.  The exhibit begins with the gay culture of Berlin as it was immediately before and during the rise of Hitler.  It works through the changing laws, the rise of homophobia as a part of Nazi policy, and the terrors of the concentration camps.  It ends with the Yogyakarta Principles, which are a set of international standards for the treatment of LGBT people outlined by a group of human rights experts in 2006.  It was a really interesting way to get to know more about the history of LGBT people in Europe and to learn about the new ways that people are thinking about LGBT rights as human rights. 

I'm now working on putting together a list of countries and organizations that have promoted anti-discrimination policy with regard to gender identity and expression.  On that note, if anyone has resource recommendations for that, I'd appreciate it.  This is another project that is totally relevant to what I hope to learn over this year, and I'm grateful to the KPH for allowing me to do research and work that relates to my overall goal.  The Watson Foundation recommends that we immerse ourselves in technology or projects with the goal of our projects always in mind, and the KPH has helped me to do that while also introducing me to fabulous queer people and allies in Warsaw.

In the first week that I met folks at the KPH, I was invited to a birthday party for Stan, who I'd never met before, but who was so incredibly friendly. Since then I've been able to talk with queer people in the organization and in more social contexts, out and about in Warsaw.  Everyone has been so welcoming and I am extremely grateful, especially to Slava, who welcomed me to the KPH, fetched me from a metro stop when I was lost, and made sure to introduce me to many people and invite me out so that I am not always that weird girl alone at the bar (side note: I'm becoming more and more okay with being that weird girl alone at the bar/restaurant/coffee shop/museum/anywhere, and this seems to be a reality of Watson life that I appreciate already, but it's also more than great to have a social group).

There are quite a few folks that work at the KPH and it has been a privilege to be able to talk with people.  My goal over the next two weeks (my last as a resident of Warsaw, which makes me really sad) is to conduct interviews in a more formal way and record the experiences of queer people and allies working to change the atmosphere for the better. 

This week I'm particularly grateful for:

1.  The opportunity to do research that advances the goal of my project
2.  The KPH as a whole and the lovely people here
3.  The beautiful weather and my favorite outdoor bar
4.  Nancy (Claire) Riley, translator and friend extraordinaire

Calm Down, Weirdo

Last week I had my first, but I assume not my last, Watson freakout. It went something like this:

What are you doing?  Why aren't you busy all the time? What does it even mean to be busy with this?  Why don't you know the answer to that?  Why are you talking to yourself and not every gay person ever to live in Warsaw? You're a failure. Do better.  Are you really gone for a whole year?  They made a mistake with me.  I'm not doing what I should be doing. What should I be doing?  I have to do better.  What is better?  I don't know but I am pretty positive I am terrible at this.

I panicked.  It was not pretty.  Because this did not really happen before I left home, didn't happen on the plane to Warsaw even though I was fully prepared for it, didn't happen when I got lost going to the hostel or when I spent 8 hours overnight in the Arrivals area of Heathrow waiting on the airport to open again, I had almost fooled myself into thinking that this sort-of breakdown wasn't coming.  Silly.  It came as I was doing dishes in my apartment.  Of course.  My heart pounded and my head hurt.  I was scared and nervous about every part of what was happening and what will be happening over the next year.

I pulled out the small card that the Watson sends with us.  It's the size of a passport and can be tucked in there for easy access.  It is titled, perfectly, "Am I Doing This Right?"
It reads, in part, "This supplement is a short guide and permission to take it easy on yourself.  If you are doing the following, you are doing well."

Here are all of the pieces of advice:

Treat the Journey as the Destination
Act in Place
See Challenges as Opportunities
Maintain Your Independence
Learn When to Move On
Find New Truths that Work for You
Follow the Watson Guidelines
Enjoy

My Mom also sent a series of cards with me.  In a little ziploc bag, I have about 30 laminated cards with various inspirational quotes and notes from my Mom.  The quotes range from Dr. Martin Luther King to Chuckie from Rugrats to my brother and grandparents to Vonnegut.  She spent a long time collecting them, matching the front and back thematically, signing them with her own note and then laminating them.  When she gave them to me, it was one of those moments before I left where I almost started crying out of fear and love and every other emotion that hit me when the phrase "I get to travel for a whole year doing something that I love" existed simultaneously as the coolest thing ever and the barrier between being able to lounge around with and talk regularly to the people I love most in the world.  In any case, the cards were extremely helpful in the moments of terror and self-doubt, so here is a sampling.

Although I lost my mind there for a minute (lots of minutes, to be honest), I realized after talking to my Mom and reading the Watson card and guidelines that I am doing what I should be doing (as much as there is a "what I should be doing" and I can be sure about anything.)  Y'all, this is a totally new frame of mind for my usual, plan-loving, calendar-dependent self, but it's good.  This post feels whiny and crazy but it was also inevitable, I think.  There was bound to be a moment when my lack of control and my inability to plan every detail started a fight with my excitement and gratitude for this year.  The positives win, are winning every day, but it seemed important for me to note this moment and how it went away, lost in a TKO to the almost impossible reality of the undeniable beauty of the place where I am and of the experience of this year in itself, the good and the bad.

This is what I know: I am living in Warsaw, getting to know gay life here, getting to know everyday life here, and pushing myself out of my comfort zone on the regular.  I have a favorite grocery store where the ladies recognize me.  I have a favorite bar where the bartender knows me and my cheap but solid choice of Polish beer.  I can navigate to a multitude of places and I'm not afraid to try even if I'm going somewhere unfamiliar.  I do things by myself but also with other people, introducing myself to strangers and experiencing happily the friendliness of almost every Warsavian I've met.

This is, from what I can tell so far, what it is to try to become a part of a community and to work on the project I presented to the Watson Foundation.  It's different from what I thought it might be but all of the questions from each stage of the interview process about how to fill the day, how to maintain mental health and confidence, how to be flexible (really this one is key; I was kidding myself about certain characteristics I thought I had.  It should have been evident to me that someone who has multiple list-making apps and calendaring tools, someone who enjoyed being in charge of sorority elections, spread sheets, calendars, and paperwork deadlines, does not fall totally under the category of "flexible."), how to keep courage and keep going all make a lot more sense to me now.  Maybe this is wrong and maybe I'm doing it wrong but it seems unlikely given that there isn't a definition for what "right" is.  That's still a reality that is difficult for me to grasp.  These freakouts are apparently normal for fellows, which is good to know.

Please forgive the particularly self-centered nature of this post.  There was a moment when I felt like I was drowning and I needed to document it for myself and for anyone else who might be interested in the struggles of doing something totally new and largely undefined in a foreign place.  It's a moment that I assume will have lots of ugly friends as this year progresses but will by no means outweigh the amazing and life-changing opportunities and experiences of this year as a whole.  In fact, this panic is definitely one of those moments of growth, which tend to hurt but help in redefining how I think about success, about myself and others. 

Ultimately, I guess I'm writing this because I need to remind myself now and for the future that things will not look the way that I might have expected but this doesn't mean that they're wrong.  This year is different and it's supposed to be different.  Most of the time that is ridiculously exciting but for the moments when it becomes overwhelming and makes me feel like a failure somehow, it's probably important to note that I need to calm it on down and take a look at where I am and what I'm doing to determine how and if things actually need to change.  Then also take a minute to appreciate the greatness of the opportunity that I have here.  When people ask me about the Watson and then tell me they can't believe how cool it is, my general response is, "I know.  Me either.  It's unbelievable."   It is.  It's totally unbelievable, and I am going to take full advantage while I can.

Queer Politics, Racism, and the Responsibility of a Movement toward Change

This is an aside from my weekly posts, prompted by a number of recent events, including the anniversary of Stonewall, the DOMA and Prop 8 rulings, the VRA decision, and the Trayvon Martin case.  This is a long one and gives me that "slow down you angry, radical lesbian" feeling, so there's that warning. 

I was, like many people, extremely happy about the Court decisions related to same-sex marriage.  DOMA is gone and California once again has marriage equality (although I understand the ruling is more complicated than that for a number of reasons).  This will make my life easier in the future, when I want to get married and have kids, buy a house and make sure that my wife has what she needs financially, be absolutely positive that in case of medical emergency everything is as it should be.  Federal marriage benefits are extensive and important and the gay community won big in terms of protecting those of its members who are now married or who will choose to be in the future. 

That being said, I am uncomfortable about same-sex marriage for a number of reasons, both theoretical and political (not that the two are entirely separate).  I think that it is problematic that same-sex marriage received the bulk of the money in queer politics over the past several years while issues like LGBT homelessness, health care, sex education, and hate crimes were all either pushed down a rung on the ladder of importance or tied to the cause of marriage as if somehow this one victory would fix the other issues, as if somehow every member of the queer community wanted and needed marriage, first and foremost, and the rest could just wait a minute.  

The saga of the Employment Non-Discrimination Act demonstrates fairly clearly the gay political food chain.  The 2007 deal to exclude transgender people from those under the umbrella of protection was sold as smart but unfortunate politics.  Of course trans people would get those rights as soon as possible but in the meantime, some protection is better than no protection and forcing a conversation about gender identity and expression would just alienate moderates and the general American public, who do not understand what it means to be transgender and who do not want to understand (as if this were not reason to push harder for protection for trans people.  Your gay-married neighbor and his two dogs are adorable but that trannie down the street, I just don't get it.).  Here again the T in LGBT was left out in the cold and the political sell of protecting everyone but those who were just as likely or in many cases more likely to be harassed or fired but less understood in the general public won out over the importance of an inclusive movement. 

Related to this, I am deeply troubled by the fact that the queer community has not questioned more its desire to be a part of an institution that has perpetuated heteronormativity and has a history of sexism and misogyny.  I understand the practicalities of marriage.  Many queer people are in long-term monogamous relationships and will benefit from the opportunity to have them recognized by the state.  I also understand that we essentially just sought and gained entrance into the equivalent of the all-hetero country club without asking why they were all-hetero in the first place or what the long-term cost of entry might be.  Sure, we're playing golf, but who gets to be the caddy now?  What topics of conversation are off-limits?  What past sins do we have to forget to stay in the good graces of those who would let us be a part of their group? We are deemed "normal," or normal enough, anyway, but are we now expected to sit down and shut up?  It is my fear that we have paid and will continue to pay a political price by making marriage the central issue.  We have turned ourselves into queer mirrors of heterosexual counterparts, slightly different, but not too different, and really just a reflection trying its hardest to be like the original.  

The thing is, part of our political power comes from being unlike the original.  We do not have the same stories as our heterosexual neighbors.  Being queer and growing up queer in our society makes us different.  We have to fight to be ourselves (whatever "self" means, thank you queer theory. Got you, bro.).  Sure, love is love, but let's not pretend like everybody at preschool ooohed and ahhhed over two little boys "flirting" the way that they would have for a boy and a girl.  In fact, the two little boys might get time-out or parents might be called, told in hushed tones in the hallway.  Same for the boy who wants to wear dresses, who feels like his body doesn't fit. Things are changing but not that much.  We are different and why shouldn't we be?  Difference is okay.  Difference is powerful.  It makes us look at things again and ask new questions about ourselves and others.   

It seems like the message of the movement for marriage equality is that everybody is really all the same and wants the same things.  It's an appealing message for both sides.  We get to be "normal," and argue that some great mistake has been made in recogniziing our normality, a misfiling of the paperwork.  Of course we want to be normal because we know the alternative and it feels like someone yelling "dyke" at you on the street or dropping your boyfriend's hand when you leave the dark of the movie theater because those guys were looking at you a little too closely. It feels like the fear of telling your parents; the drop in your stomach that never goes away and the church sermon that sometimes makes its way to the front of your mind. Sinner, sinner, sinner.  Of course we want to be normal. On the other side, what is less threatening to a majority than a minority who wants to be like them and look like them? Of course this could never actually happen because it would eliminate the hierarchy created by the marginalization of those who are different, but it's a win for those in charge.  Nothing is really ruffled when the impossible goal is to look the same.  (Again a note on theory, I promise I don't have the idea of an evil criminal hetero mastermind controlling the world.  It's obviously more complicated, but it seems undeniable that a system of power that privileges heterosexuality exists and is maintained by the existence and condemnation of difference.)  All this is to say, the difference of queer people creates a power to subvert and challenge traditional systems of power by pointing to the fact that other options exist and moreover, that their existence alone makes it impossible for the lie that everyone is meant to be a certain way to continue.  We are the evidence to the contrary, and I think that should be a site of power, not a fact to be suppressed and hidden under a political movement seeking sameness.  

While we were celebrating the rulings on DOMA and Prop 8, the Court also handed down the VRA decision.  The power dynamics of the world at large do not suddenly disappear in queer politics and the concerns of the majority overpower here as well.  The T gets forgotten and it is also true that the voices and specific concerns of women and people of color lose ground in the discussion about the "bigger community."  Since second wave feminism, there has been discussion of intersectionality and the ways in which queer people of color experience oppression at many levels and are often forced to pick an identity in order to find political solidarity.  This is wrong.  Although I am gay, I am also white, and this means I have privilege and should be working to take it apart just as I want to challenge heteronormativity. I, and the white majority in the queer community, need to listen to the voices of queer people of color.  We need to call ourselves out and refuse to let our own advantages slide while preaching about the oppression we feel.  We cannot ignore our own privilege while seeking to dismantle someone else's. 

The concerns of people of color should be the concerns of all queer people because if we are really trying to represent our community as a whole, then we ought to consider the wide variety of identities of queer people and further, we should be in solidarity with all women and people of color, whose struggles also indicate the damage of hegemony.  The Court essentially suggested with their VRA decision that we are in a new age without the same need for oversight.  My favorite line from Justice Ginsberg in her dissent, which is excellent: "Throwing out preclearance when it has worked and is continuing to work to stop discriminatory changes is like throwing away your umbrella in a rainstorm because you are not getting wet.”  We should be concerned that the Court believed that things had changed so much that Southern states (really all states need it, I think, but that's a separate issue) should not need approval before changing their voting laws and procedures.  We should be concerned because what it says is that there is a prevailing idea that we are moving toward sameness, and it's a post-racial world, and a black president means racism must be dead or dying.  This is the same logic that could be used to tell the queer community to shut it.  We can get married.  Things have changed, so stop yelling about who has the power.  Everybody is equal, as you can see.  

Everyone isn't equal.  I woke up to a newsfeed filled with posts about Trayvon Martin and the not guilty verdict.  Aside from the particulars of the trial, the entire situation indicates a bigger problem.  We are the society that made George Zimmerman, that breeds and fosters racism in every person (myself included, obviously) but which refuses to acknowledge that reality.  So one man becomes the problem.  We are the society that would suggest that a black boy walking down the street in a hoodie should take his hood off, for God's sake, what does he expect?  What do we expect? Justice is supposed to be blind, but in a society filled with racism, sexism, and homophobia, it cannot be blind.  It only puts on blinders to the reality of inequality in the way that we live our lives every day.  This is an uncomfortable topic, but we should talk about it.  We should scream about it, in fact, because the dialogue about a post-racial world and the successful fight for racial equality is getting so loud that people talk about Dr. King like he's a hero of old and George Zimmerman like he's a relic in his racist thought.  If you can hide the problem, then it doesn't exist.  

The queer community has a responsibility to be outraged as it celebrates the victory of DOMA and to question its own priorities in the current political fight.  We have a responsibility to work with and listen to transgender people and queer people of color, queer women and those whose voices it might be easier to ignore. We have to acknowledge and fight the harmful hierarchies and privileges in our own community.  Although white members of the queer community do not feel the same struggles as people of color, we do benefit from racism, and we can push ourselves to recognize and reject those benefits at every opportunity, to provide what we can to those in our community whose struggles are beyond what we experience ourselves.  We can't pretend like everyone is the same or that the invalidation of DOMA means that everyone will be treated the same.  If we choose to continue with that trend, then we at least need to take responsibility for the fact that we are making a choice to leave others behind and win a fight that is not so much concerned with change as it is with the priorities of those with the loudest and most powerful voices in our own community.  We want the country club and the caddy doesn't matter.  We want to be the same or as close to it as we can get.

This brings me to Stonewall.  In June 1969, a bunch of ragged and run-down queers decided they had had enough and fought back against the police at the Stonewall Inn on Christopher Street in New York.  Badass queens and butches fought with their high heels and whatever else they had.  They were outcasts and they decided to protect themselves, because who else was going to do it?  Today we celebrate this with Pride parades.  In Berlin, they even call it Christopher Street Day.  We're celebrating the queers who refused to let themselves be taken in without a fight.  Let's not be taken in without a fight. 

On Dysautonomia

So this is a post about my physical well-being, which is more of a struggle than I am generally willing to admit.  It's a long story but it's going to be a part of the Watson and it will probably be good for me to have to look at and read this post when I am going through periods where I do not want to acknowledge that I might need to slow down for a little while.

This is really a story about my brother, Cole, who is one of my favorite people in the world and one of the best and bravest people I know.

Many of y'all probably know that several years ago, my brother became extremely ill and nobody could figure out what was wrong with him.  Doctor after doctor poked at him and suggested all kinds of things, but nothing seemed to help.  Throughout all of this, Cole had to withdraw from school and suffer through his sickness without any idea of why he was ill.  He dealt with every kind of doctor asking him questions and prodding him with things and also faced implications and accusations from lots of people, family, friends, and doctors included, that he was just faking it.  Directly related to this, Cole is unbelievably strong and my mom is right there with him.  She did not stop fighting and researching and telling off doctors until somebody listened and got Cole what he needed.  What he needed was, among other things, a tilt table test.  Cole and Mom flew to Cleveland where the doctors did a whole series of tests, including one during which they strapped Cole to a table and tilted it to see how his body would respond.  His body did not respond well.  He passed out.  This was not uncommon for my brother, who in a particularly scary moment once passed out against a bathroom door in his school, but this, in conjunction with other tests, gave the doctors the information that they needed.


Finally, Cole was diagnosed with dysautonomia, which is an umbrella term for a lot of different symptoms and conditions.  Essentially, there are a number of things in his autonomic nervous system that are wonky.  It impacts everything from the ability to stand up without passing out to the levels of adrenaline in the body, things related to the sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems.  Cole began to see Dr. Randy Thompson, who is awesome and hilarious and works out of Pensacola. He has dysautonomia himself and so he's very familiar with Cole's struggles and people's inability to understand sometimes.  At this point, after lots of medication adjustments and, thankfully, a lot of Cole's symptoms slowing down, my brother is continuing to be his wonderful self without the need of a heavy duty pill case.  He is currently in recovery from surgery on a deviated septum caused several years ago by my own poor golf cart driving skills (sorry again, bud).  He is well on the way to a return to fratting hard (said with real pride) at Mississippi State. Go Dawgs!

While I have not had Cole's struggles or anything like them, I do have a milder form of dysautonomia.  Last summer, I began having chest pains but like an idiot, I ignored them because they scared me.  I also started to get dizzy more often.  I almost passed out on my girlfriend's bathroom floor.  I almost passed out during Trolley Night downtown in Memphis.  These things had happened to me in the past.  During high school, I once had to flee in the middle of leading a class meeting in order to get sick, take my socks and shoes off, and lie flat on the cold tile of the bathroom floor.  I looked absolutely ridiculous I'm sure but I knew I needed to stop myself from passing out and that seemed to be effective. One of my best friends walked into the bathroom to check on me and in excellent best friend fashion giggled for a minute before gettting me water and a cloth and sitting down with me until I stopped shaking and looked less like a ghost.  There were other episodes like this over the years.  My mom also had these issues and although she won't let Dr. Thompson test her, as he says, "We all know you have it too."  Anyway, last summer these chest pains started and eventually, I ended up on a tilt table myself.  Six or seven doctors and nurses stared at my heart rate for seventeen minutes while I stood strapped to a table alternating my worrying between the possibility of passing out in front of all of these strangers, the fact that I hadn't shaved my legs, and the very real chance that the towel that was supposed to cover me was going to fall down.  It didn't, and I am extremely grateful, although a doctor did have to touch my legs in order to see how the blood pooled there.  My heartrate went up very high and stayed up the whole time I was on the table.  Not quite normal, but at least I didn't pass out.

After going to see Dr. Thompson and having him look at the results of the test and do some questioning and testing of his own, I was diagnosed with dysautonomia and specifically with POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome).  As it turns out, my heartrate is almost always high, even when I'm just sitting down, and Dr. Thompson said people with POTS (florid POTS is my particular brand?) are sometimes diagnosed with anxiety disorders first because the symptoms can be similar.  I realized that a lot of things that I thought were normal for everyone are not.  It is not normal to be as dizzy as I am as often as I am, to stare off into space for long periods and lose concentration with the frequency that I do.  My friends will snap and wave at me; my girlfriend gets freaked out.  Most people don't worry about passing out in the heat on the way from the car to the Target or know to cross their legs and tighten their muscles to get rid of the "oh no I'm going to pass out" feeling that happens in the aisle of said Target.  There are also the troubles with sleep and extreme exhaustion and of course, the chest pains, which are not life-threatening but indicate that my body isn't getting all of the blood it wants in the places it wants.

Before going to see Dr. Thompson, I thought most people had most of these things the same way that I do and I never used medication other than birth control, because during my period my symptoms took me out of the game in a way that I couldn't manage.  I didn't like the idea of being medicated, but oh well. (I did draw the line at compression stockings, which help to keep the blood where it should be but which also help to kill one's social acceptability during summertime or anytime really.) And in terms of sleep alone, whoa what a difference. Honestly I had no idea how little sleep I was getting and how much sleep I actually needed.  In addition to the medication, I also needed more water, less heat, more vitamins, and to be more aware of my own limitations.  I'm not very good at this last one, and over the last few weeks, I have come to pay the price.

For the first two weeks away from home, I went almost non-stop.  I slept very little at weird hours and I ate one meal a day, maybe, while walking around for hours.  It was not the smartest thing that I could have done for any number of reasons, not the least of which is that Dr. Thompson advised at the beginning of my diagnosis, in terms of my exercise, that I "walk around the block a time or two and see how it goes."  Once I moved into my apartment and slowed down for just a minute, I felt it.  My first week here, I woke up one morning and almost fell back into bed.  I was exhausted, dizzy, and useless.  I felt terrible and could not do anything. I had chest pains, which occur occasionally anyway but which were especially annoying with the exhaustion and aching.  I had not taken care of myself and I should have taken care of myself and I'm working on it.

Still, there will be times when I need to, as my Nana says, "listen to my body" and just take some time to sleep and hydrate and pay attention. What is worse than almost passing out near my own bed?  Passing out in Warsaw proper (or in Delhi or in Cape Town or in a hostel), and I'd really like to avoid that.  So here is a post on my dysautonomia because whether I like it or not, it's real and I've got to pay more attention. It is not always going to be possible for me to do everything exactly right in terms of managing my symptoms, especially this year, because as Dr. Thompson says, we all have to live our lives, but I'm going to try to do better and minimally, give myself some time to recover when I push too hard.

Weeks Three/Four: The Move to Warsaw and Getting Settled

The past two weeks have mostly been about getting settled in my new apartment and making contacts in Warsaw, so I'm going to do a combined post.  I booked an apartment for a month using AirBnB, which is a great service that allows travelers to rent rooms or whole houses directly from the owner.  It has been really helpful in exploring places to live both in Warsaw and in Buenos Aires, which is my next stop.

The apartment in Warsaw is very small, but it is perfect and has more than what I need, including a balcony and washing machine.

The view from the entrance.  

My kitchen and washing machine. 

The dining room. 

The wall above the kitchen table. 

The sofa, which pulls out into my bed. 

View from my balcony

My apartment building

Having my own space is wonderful  Hostel life was great for many reasons.  It offered access to a community of other travelers and social spaces.  Even in Berlin, where the hostel was not nearly so social as the Oki Doki, I was surrounded by other people who were trying to get to know the city (or its nightlife) and asking the same kinds of questions about transportation and good places to eat or have a beer.

That being said, I am so thankful for my own bed and for a kitchen.  I've been able to take a shower without my shoes on, and I can go to the grocery store and have what I want and need in my kitchen.

I've been learning to cook some traditionally Polish food, and because I love cooking (and eating), I am really looking forward to all of the culinary opportunities that the Watson will provide.  Before leaving for the trip, I was a vegetarian for 10 years.  I started eating meat again partly because I understand that I will only be able to live and eat in these places once and I want the full experience and partly because I did not want to be the person to decline someone's hospitality in a foreign place.  I am a Southerner and I am essentially bothering strangers for a year, so I am terrified of being rude, and it would seem to be the height of rudeness to say no to someone who cooked food for me.  All that is to say, I am now cooking with meat again, and while I use it less often because it is more expensive, it is also delicious and this year-long hiatus from vegetarianism is pretty awesome (apologies to Caroline, Charlotte, Emily, and Aubrey, among others, for this betrayal).  Here are some of my favorites so far:

Typical trip to the grocery.  Pierogi, onion, mushroom, kielbasa, cheese. I also always have broccoli and some kind of fruit in the kitchen, just so my mom doesn't think I am only eating sausage and pierogi (although it is tempting).  

Pierogi Ruskie, which is stuffed with potato and cheese. 

Spinach pierogi with broccoli and mushrooms. 

Spinach pierogi (they're my favorite so far) with onion, mushroom, and a homemade cheese sauce.

Pasta with kielbasa, onion and broccoli.  

Potato hash with kielbasa, bell pepper, onion, and cheese

In addition to the successful cooking adventures, I have had a few accidents.  One night I was so happy to find pepper in my kitchen that I ground it over my pasta without really looking at the container.  Thinking the red sauce I bought was strangely sweet, I went to get more pepper and discovered the real problem.  I had been grinding chocolate, meant for coffee, onto my food. 

Navigating the grocery without any knowledge of Polish (working on that through an internet program but it is slow going) or any access to wireless data to Google Translate my way through shopping, I generally just try to look at the pictures and hope for the best. Sometimes it works really well.  Other times I end up with mint apple juice, which as it turns out is not really meant for me (that pun was for you Mimi Dunn).  

Despite some struggles, I think that having my own space has been beneficial in terms of really getting to know the city and having to find a social life and take care of myself.  Part of what the Watson Foundation asks us to do is to be present in the cities and towns where we choose to spend our time.  We should get to know the people and places.  Not having the (awesome) social life of the hostel has meant that I do the exploring on my own and that I have to know the bus routes or be willing to ask someone, to learn to communicate how many pierogi I want from the local grocery, to be conscious of where I am walking at night by myself.  It is a real learning experience, and while I am not always comfortable, whether because I am lost or unable to communicate what I want or need or very aware of the fact that I am eating alone at a restaurant, I am already feeling the benefits of these experiences.

Many of y'all will know that I have a terrible sense of direction.  Truly terrible.  If I am driving in a relatively new place and think I should go one direction, I should probably go the opposite.  It's a curse that comes down from my mom and my nana, and it made me particularly nervous given that I had never been to Warsaw or Berlin or any city on my Watson list.  Because I am traveling on my own, I have had to get over this.  At some point during the stay at the Oki Doki, I started to know where things were.  Since returning to Warsaw and moving into the apartment, I am even more comfortable.  Last week I gave someone totally accurate directions in the city.  This is not to say that I do not get lost.  I get lost and fairly frequently, but I have enough knowledge to try again and enough confidence to look at a map or ask someone how to get back on track.  It is also the case that getting lost offers some pretty fantastic opportunities to discover new things.  All that is to say, I am learning lots and getting to know my neighborhood, Srodmiescie, which is the central neighborhood of the city.

Sometimes I feel like a jerk and an idiot, which is a learning experience in itself.  For the most part, people in the grocery or in the small shops where I go to top up my Polish phone card do not speak English. One amazing woman in a phone shop made my day by pulling up Google Translate on her computer.  We talked back and forth and she helped me.  It had been sort of a rough journey that day and I was so thankful for her.

As I learned the other day, however, assuming that someone does not speak English is a great way to make an ass of yourself.  I walked into a local quick stop shop and began gesturing and using fragmented words to describe what I needed to the man working behind the counter.  He looked at me, frowned, and said, "I understand English but I have no idea what you are saying to me."  Although I wasn't yelling or speaking insanely slowly, I had still become THAT person, that tourist, that jerk.  I always use complete sentences now.

Through the stumbling, I am learning and making myself at home.  I have a favorite grocery store where the nice ladies in the produce section put up with and interpret my gestures about how many or how much of what I need.

Warsaw is a really green city.  There are parks everywhere; two across the street from my apartment and a much larger one, Park Lazienkowski, just about a mile away.  On the way to grocery store or to the city centre, I almost always walk through a park, and it has been great to be able to read and enjoy the summer weather.

There are peacocks in Park Lazienkowski, which translates to Royal Baths.  They hang around the tourists unperturbed and enjoy the bread that people bring as a fair trade for the children that chase them. 

The Palace on the Water

Myslewicki Palace

The view from the Palace on the Water

The Old Orangery. There are so many buildings, fountains, and paths in Park Lazienkowski that I felt like I would never stop discovering things.  It was a great way to spend an afternoon, and I'll definitely go back to read and maybe picnic. 

Although I normally walk through the city, there is a great bus system for the longer treks. As noted above, I'm working on my navigation skills and figuring out bus lines is a difficult but useful part of that. 

View of the Vistula River from the bus.  It divides the city. I was taking the bus to Praga South, one of the neighborhoods on the other side.  

The walkway and bike path that run parallel to my apartment.  This is how I walk to the grocery and to the KPH as well as how I walk into the main part of the city.  It is a longer walk but worth it.  

Fountains run along the path and there are benches perfect for reading. 

One of the fountains lit at night. 

A view of the Palace of Culture and Science, the tallest building in Warsaw and a gift from the Soviet Union to communist Poland, during a walk through the city.  

And at night from the bus stop. 

Favorite reading spot.  On that note, I am reading/have read a few things, ranging from Night to Slaughterhouse-Five to the report on queer life in Warsaw that Slava from the KPH gave to me (more below on that).  

I've also been getting to know the wonderful folks at the Kampania Przeciw Homofobii (Campaign Against Homophobia).  Last week after returning from Berlin, I met with Slava, a project coordinator at the KPH, and talked with him about the Watson and possibilities for getting involved.  He has been really great not only in terms of helping me at the organization but also inviting me out to be social on weekends.

This is the rainbow at Plac Zbawiciela (Savior Square) where there are a number of bars.  Slava told me that fanatics have tried to burn it three times now because they think it is a sign of LGBT support when really, as he said, it was just supposed to be a sign of peace. Although there are plans to redo the rainbow again, it stands incomplete at the moment. This is another symbol of the struggle of queer people in Warsaw, where, as several people told me, things are better than in the smaller cities but still problematic. 

I have really just begun lurking around the KPH trying to be helpful and to meet as many queer and queer friendly people as possible, so I am going to focus next week's post on the organization and meeting members of the queer community.

Entering into my fifth week away from home, the reality of distance is becoming clear.  There is a seven hour time difference between Warsaw and home, so while it could be worse, the most convenient times for others to Skype or talk are generally late at night here.
I'm struck at times with how liberting it is to be able to walk down the street and be disconnected.  I have a phone for emergencies but I never use it.  There is nobody waiting on me to get home from the park or the grocery or the bar.  I can take my time and determine my own schedule.

A snail in the park, because it was cool.  Y'all I am really learning to slow down and look around these days.   I'm now the person who stops in the middle of the path to document a snail? Clearly, I laughed at myself after taking this, but why not?  

Sometimes this reality feels to me like the amazing opportunity it is: I get to live independently with a chance to explore something that means so much to me.  I get goofy face in the park when thinking about this, I'm sure.  Moreover, I am able to fill the rest of my days learning about the city or, not to sound too cheesy but, learning about myself and how I respond to living alone or being isolated in many ways, to being unable to communicate with many of my neighbors, to being totally unsure in any number of contexts.  I am already absolutely positive that this year will break me, in many ways, of the mindset that was carefully cultivated during my time at Rhodes.  I will have to move past the need to have an obsessively detailed and rigid schedule because it's an impossibility here.  I have to be flexible when relying on someone else's availability and needs and I have to set new standards for what it means to have a productive day.  That is not to say that I will not still want and value those things, but I am also going to learn to value differently, I think.  While I have moments of "geez this is awesome," I also have moments of loneliness and fear.  The idea of this year is, at times, terrifying in a real way and goes against almost every habit I built at Rhodes over the past four years.  The Watson  has, even just to this point, been an important learning experience for me, and I am both excited and nervous about what other things I will learn.

For the past few weeks I have been particularly thankful for:

1. Slava, Magda, and the very nice people in the community both from the KPH and not
2. The nice ladies at the grocery store
3. A kitchen
4. My balcony
5. As always, my family and friends at home

Thanks for reading and see y'all next week!