So Many Pigeons

Pigeons in Europe are a different breed. They are brave, overfed, and arrogant. Pigeons will fly right at you, then change direction at the last minute and I swear that I can hear them chuckle as they fly by after I duck down. I love all living things, but just like annoying people in the check-in line at the airport, I don't necessarily "like" all living things. As I was walking in the second largest medieval square in all of Europe here in Krakow I was wading ankle deep in pigeon. The little bastards just coo around with their head bobbing and chest out, bold as can be. Here in Poland they have vendors who sell bird feed so that the kids can join the fun and increase their chances of Avian Flu by having a pigeon eat out of their hand. I was just waiting for someone to make a sudden move or some angry child to run through the square and scare all the pigeons into flight so that we could all get dumped on. Luckily my fears were layed to rest as I made it through the day without being made into a pigeon toilet.

Besides the pigeons, though, Krakow is an otherwise beautiful city. It is definitely charming in a unique way. The world wars left Krakow in relatively good condition since nary a battle was fought here and it was missed by most of the bombing raids from both sides of the war. Krakow is in a bit of a time warp becuase of this, which gives it a different style.

I have not quite figured out how to warm up to Polish people yet. Most everyone I have met seems to be all business. I smile a lot when I talk, mostly because I am just a heppy guy, and when I say something in english I get the same reaction, which tends to be loud Polish and quick hand gestures. For example, today I went to the market to get some pineapple juice and as I got to the counter I showed my credit card and asked if they accept it. I used my best english combined with some pleasant hand gestures and, of course, I flashed the smile. What I got back was a forty something Polish woman yelling and flailing her arms as if I had just stolen her newborn child. While she was in mid-flail I placed my card in my pocket, got out some cash, and placed it gently on the table. As she made change she smiled and said something in Polish. My eyes were stuck wide open and I gave her a blank stare as I backed out of the shop, not fully comprehending what had just transpired. Maybe she was angry at the pigeons and I was her scapegoat.