Last Time
-lots of media incoming-
It was our need to fly back for the start of the academic year that ended the good time.
Before I knew it, it was time to pack our bags, finish any projects on our property, and say our goodbyes. We had booked bus tickets to Wrocław, before our plane flight from Kraków to meet up with long-time friends in the former city.
Many of our Belarusian friends and family are displaced in Poland due to the political turmoil in Belarus (many of them have either been deported, were unjustly incarcerated, or were in danger of being tracked down by the government). Coincidentally, our travel to and from Ukraine takes us directly through the country they are now a part of.
If getting inside the country takes a toll, getting out is a different level of complexity. With the general pain of leaving, the process takes more time, effort, and sleepless nights, and despite some of the beautiful scenery we drove by, we were met with scenes much less uplifting.
Bombed-out and burned-down buildings and homes bid us goodbye as we drove by; the bus filled with silence during each passing.
The setting sun glowed through the bus’s windows and bid our eyes to close. The next time my sister and I opened them was at the Poland-Ukraine border, the fluorescent lamps outside masking the midnight scene. By the look of everyone on the bus, we had been standing in stillness for a long time. Our dad said we had arrived two hours ago; as all dads are, he hadn’t slept a blink and was on alert over the entire situation <3.
Outside, everyone had started pouring out of their transportation to shake some feeling into their limbs. No end could be seen in either direction, and our bus seemed lost in an infinite stream of look-alike traffic. Three hours in, the line of traffic seemed to be sparked by movement, and by the time we got to the actual border station (and our passports were all gathered), four hours had passed.
The only other option was to fall asleep. When we woke up, the windows boasted a high sun, and everyone on the bus was in a fury of getting ready to go through the Polish side of the border. This, thankfully, took a significantly faster time than going through the Ukrainian side. They checked our bags and the bus, stamped our passports, and at 10 in the morning, we were finally on our way away from the border and into rural Poland.
When we arrived in Wrocław, a dear family friend from my parent’s Belarusian church picked up all four of us and our luggage on his bus. I don’t think I could be any more thankful for him; he reminded me of C.S. Lewis’s Father Christmas, with his greeting hugs, sleigh-like bus, and reminder to rest for the next day’s events.
We were dropped off at our Airbnb around seven in the evening, grateful for the chance to shower and lay in a bed. As soon as our heads hit the pillow, we were out.
The following day, our little quality sleep rejuvenated us enough for the theology conference planned for the day’s events.
For context, we arrived in Poland on the fifth of August and planned to stay until the eleventh. Our days were filled with countless meetings and conferences with friends from the early days of my parents’ church in Belarus. They had three children and had found a church in Wrocław, all acclimating well to the culture and learning the Polish language. Their only daughter is married to another family friend from our church, and my siblings had all been friends in their early days in Belarus.
Needless to say, it was good to see everyone, especially in my opinion, who (as the youngest in the family) had been in the same room as these people when I wasn’t able to be aware of it. I received the general “last time I saw you, you were this little!” comments, which, despite being common, unwaveringly warmed my heart every single time someone said them.
as always, if there’s a projector, it’s put to work
Our friends had planned a theology conference, and our father was the main speaker; by extension, the next few days were scheduled with attending their church services and generally just spending time with family we had not seen in a lifetime. The day after our arrival, we were whisked away to the church, and after a six-hour conference, we had lunch with friends.
The difference I mentioned between Poland and Ukraine was even more amplified. However, I was surprised to see Wroclaw and Krakow also differentiate heavily. Wroclaw remained much more Westernized with its German-like architecture and English-accessible service (something my sister and I pay attention to for future stays).
The Airbnb we had booked for the entirety of our stay was designed after the architectural Japanese aesthetic and was hosted by an English-speaking interior designer. Needless to say, after a 31-hour bus ride, the space almost brought me to tears.
The next few days, we toured the historic city (surprisingly bumping into more people from our Belarusian church!) and spent some time inside enjoying our Airbnb.
On our last evening, we invited three couples from my parents’ church to our place for tea.
It was nice. Nice enough to make me even sadder about leaving everyone that evening. I felt myself getting deeper into my sadness during our midnight drive to Krakow for our flight. We had rented a car for the four of us, as our parents had to return to Ukraine after dropping us off at the airport.
We said goodbye and were off; and for my own self, despite being used to saying goodbye, it didn’t hurt any less.
