Well, I'm visiting in Oxfordshire for a 4-day Pilates instructor workshop. Last one before I take the big exam sometime next year. The course material is all about scapulae and biceps and transversus abdominus muscles and thoracic vertebrae and good heavens why didn't I try to learn some Latin too?
Anyway, there are 8 people taking the course this time, and as is usual with any course, the first 30 minutes were given over to introductions. When it came to my turn, I gave my long involved story, about living in England, South Africa, and now Poland. I described my history regarding Pilates, the pistol-wielding gang at the exercise studio in Johannesburg, our family's multitude of relocations, and my happiness in Poland.
The Israeli instructor, Daniella, interrupted and asked, "Ah, so are you learning Polish?"
"Tak, tak. Arbo to jest bardzo trudno!" (Possibly means: "Yes yes. But it's very difficult." If I did it right.)
Anyway, the last girl to come in turned to me and said, "Wait wait, are you Polish?"
Clearly my amazing accent knocked her for a loop.
"No, no. I just live in Warszawa."
"Aha. I am Polish, but I live in London. I don't understand why people want to go live in my country!"
"Believe me, after South Africa, it's fantastic. So safe! So organised...sort of."
Then Daniella chimed in, with a torrent of Polish. Turns out that she lives in Israel, but her mother is Polish.
I swear, you just can't get away from Poland. It seems like such a small world.
Tomorrow I'll go to Bracknell town centre's Sklep Smacznego for some Tymbark Sok Pomaranczowy and some kielbasa. Just so I don't get homesick right away.