Day 2 created A LOT of memories and inside jokes, especially with one person that I'm sure no one in our group will ever forget: Conrad.
Once we landed in Berlin, Germany, we had to go through Customs. First language barrier, yay. But customs was not as scary or dreadful as it was lived up to be. All we did was hand them our Passport, and get it stamped (#internationaltraveler). We then had a bus to take us to Warsaw, Poland. And our tour guide's name was...you guessed it! Conrad. He was pretty rad. (sounded funnier to me) Of German descent, Conrad cannot be described; he is his own free spirit. Conrad is Conrad, and no one can and will ever change that. I honestly have no words to describe him. Well, I do, but they come at a later time and day. Conrad spoke pretty good English, and he was very knowledgeable about the history of Berlin and architecture.
Once we boarded the bus, he began speaking about Berlin, and begged our driver to take us to see the remains of the Berlin wall, but our driver said nein. So Conrad was a little salty towards him, but it did not hinder him from making the experience any less enjoyable. Conrad was pretty flamboyant, but no one really knew if that was his typical German nature, or if there was something else in his wallet (hehe).
While on the bus, we saw the city of Berlin, its magnificent train system, and the rolling hills of Germany as they turned into flat lands. (Sort of like driving from North to South Louisiana, minus the mosquitoes, wetlands, rednecks, and Cajuns.)
The nuns put on a long movie on Blessed Jerzy Popieluszko. I began to watch it, and it was actually very entertaining, (This is a major compliment coming from me, seeing as I find most Christian movies cheesy, predictable, or straight up injustices, because of the low budgets and lackadaisical writing.) but my body had a different idea. My body found that the inside of my eyelids were more enticing than the movie screen, and, though I tried to stay up, I could not. By now, I had lost 7 hours, and there was no lost and found location. It was just lost, so my body had to adjust.
We crossed the border into Poland, and the iPhone that my dad and I unlocked at home began to work, because of a SIM card I ordered. I finally contacted my parents, told them I was alive, and we continued towards Warsaw.
Later, we stopped at a gas station/restaurant about 50 kilometers (not miles) into Poland. Conrad had a song about the restrooms, which you just say toilets in Poland. As a tour guide, many people must ask where the restroom is, so he came up with a little jingle: "It's always friendly if it's dry or wet..do do do..where's the toilet?" Before I say anything else, let me say this: my hair is very sensitive, and it needs to be washed every 24 hours, or else it gets extremely greasy and nasty. Seeing as I was not going to attempt to wash my hair in the luscious and spacey airplane bathroom, I decided to do it at this stop. So next to the restaurant was a whole building just for bathrooms. So I used the toilet and washed my hands, looked around, and went to get my hair wet. Right before I got it right, a huge group of Poles walked in. I immediately walked out. But to my right was a little pathway, so my greasy head decided to follow it. It led to a water pipe thingy. Something you don't necessarily see in America, but you know what it is anyway. So I grab the lever and go up and down on it, and to my surprise, water actually comes out. Praise the Lamb. I grabbed my bottle of shampoo (not more than 3.4 ounces, of course) and wet and lathered up my hair. As I did so, I heard someone say "Excuse me" in a terrible accent. I looked up and saw a Polish woman and her two children. She made a motion toward the pipe, and I was thinking "oh, maybe they want to wash their hair, too!" (Keep in mind that my body has not recovered from the lack of sleep and the lack of humidity.) I held out my shampoo bottle, and she looked disgusted. I mean I thought it was a pretty nice brand, but whatever, she probably had her own shampoo. No, she didn't. Instead she pulls out a huge water bottle and fills it with water. While I was just standing there, casually, with my soapy hair and confused disposition. Her children gave me some disgusted looks, then put their mouth under the pipe and drank some water. After they were finished quenching their thirsts with my mini shower, I washed out the soap, and I felt like a new creation. The Father's mercies are new every morning, (Leviticus 3: 22-23) and I definitely felt his mercy in that hair washing. I walked away, back down the path and towards the bathrooms, and I find a line of people waiting to fill their water bottles. I, being the prideful human being that I am, casually smiled and kept walking. Every one is feeling refreshed because of that water pipe.
Anyway, I walk into the restaurant where everyone is eating, and I get in line to eat. In front of me lies a cafeteria style meal, and I get to choose what my first Polish meal is. I chose wrong. That is all I have to say about that.
Also at this restaurant, I came to a realization as to what Satan himself drinks: Gas water.
We get back on the bus and finish our journey to Warsaw. There, we check into our hotel, and then we have a couple of hours to tour part of downtown Warsaw. I wish we had more time, because Warsaw was absolutely gorgeous. With a rich history, it had a great combination of old and new buildings. (Many buildings were destroyed during WWII.) We went into our first European church. D A N G. I was sold. Poland wins. The end. The magnificence of the church cannot be put into words, and cannot be captured in a picture. It can only be captured in entering, and adoring. Adoring the one who the church is for. One thing about the churches we saw, were that they had many side altars, an average of about four on each side. And each altar is dedicated to either a Saint, or a part of the Holy Family (i.e. Saint John Paul II, Sacred Heart of Jesus, Black Madonna). We held mass in that church, which I believe was called Holy Cross. Their confessionals are very different from America as well; they are very open and anyone can see you talking. I guess it is a way of testifying to the whole church, and also a way of humbling yourself, saying that "yes, I am a sinner, but I am working on it.
We also walked to Old Town, a part of Warsaw that somewhat reminded me of the French Quarter. There were entertainers on the street, little shops here and there, and churches everywhere. We walked into a chapel dedicated to Our Lady, and they began singing their Polish traditional prayer to the Black Madonna, or Our Lady of Czestochowa, at 9:00 PM.
As a group, we discovered that Polish people love Ice Cream, called Lody over there. Ice Cream shops flooded the street, and Conrad also loved Ice Cream. His not so little German face and body lit up, and I've never seen a grown man go from Point A to Point Lody so fast. We then walked back to our hotel, which was very nice, by the way. I did not feel like a pilgrim at this point, but a tourist. But man, did I have a big storm coming for me.
I roomed with Luke J. and Grant J., two awesome men who I got to know well on this trip.
I slept very well that night, finally in a horizontal position. Thus ended day 2.
Nicholas Scalfano
Once we landed in Berlin, Germany, we had to go through Customs. First language barrier, yay. But customs was not as scary or dreadful as it was lived up to be. All we did was hand them our Passport, and get it stamped (#internationaltraveler). We then had a bus to take us to Warsaw, Poland. And our tour guide's name was...you guessed it! Conrad. He was pretty rad. (sounded funnier to me) Of German descent, Conrad cannot be described; he is his own free spirit. Conrad is Conrad, and no one can and will ever change that. I honestly have no words to describe him. Well, I do, but they come at a later time and day. Conrad spoke pretty good English, and he was very knowledgeable about the history of Berlin and architecture.
Once we boarded the bus, he began speaking about Berlin, and begged our driver to take us to see the remains of the Berlin wall, but our driver said nein. So Conrad was a little salty towards him, but it did not hinder him from making the experience any less enjoyable. Conrad was pretty flamboyant, but no one really knew if that was his typical German nature, or if there was something else in his wallet (hehe).
While on the bus, we saw the city of Berlin, its magnificent train system, and the rolling hills of Germany as they turned into flat lands. (Sort of like driving from North to South Louisiana, minus the mosquitoes, wetlands, rednecks, and Cajuns.)
The nuns put on a long movie on Blessed Jerzy Popieluszko. I began to watch it, and it was actually very entertaining, (This is a major compliment coming from me, seeing as I find most Christian movies cheesy, predictable, or straight up injustices, because of the low budgets and lackadaisical writing.) but my body had a different idea. My body found that the inside of my eyelids were more enticing than the movie screen, and, though I tried to stay up, I could not. By now, I had lost 7 hours, and there was no lost and found location. It was just lost, so my body had to adjust.
We crossed the border into Poland, and the iPhone that my dad and I unlocked at home began to work, because of a SIM card I ordered. I finally contacted my parents, told them I was alive, and we continued towards Warsaw.
Later, we stopped at a gas station/restaurant about 50 kilometers (not miles) into Poland. Conrad had a song about the restrooms, which you just say toilets in Poland. As a tour guide, many people must ask where the restroom is, so he came up with a little jingle: "It's always friendly if it's dry or wet..do do do..where's the toilet?" Before I say anything else, let me say this: my hair is very sensitive, and it needs to be washed every 24 hours, or else it gets extremely greasy and nasty. Seeing as I was not going to attempt to wash my hair in the luscious and spacey airplane bathroom, I decided to do it at this stop. So next to the restaurant was a whole building just for bathrooms. So I used the toilet and washed my hands, looked around, and went to get my hair wet. Right before I got it right, a huge group of Poles walked in. I immediately walked out. But to my right was a little pathway, so my greasy head decided to follow it. It led to a water pipe thingy. Something you don't necessarily see in America, but you know what it is anyway. So I grab the lever and go up and down on it, and to my surprise, water actually comes out. Praise the Lamb. I grabbed my bottle of shampoo (not more than 3.4 ounces, of course) and wet and lathered up my hair. As I did so, I heard someone say "Excuse me" in a terrible accent. I looked up and saw a Polish woman and her two children. She made a motion toward the pipe, and I was thinking "oh, maybe they want to wash their hair, too!" (Keep in mind that my body has not recovered from the lack of sleep and the lack of humidity.) I held out my shampoo bottle, and she looked disgusted. I mean I thought it was a pretty nice brand, but whatever, she probably had her own shampoo. No, she didn't. Instead she pulls out a huge water bottle and fills it with water. While I was just standing there, casually, with my soapy hair and confused disposition. Her children gave me some disgusted looks, then put their mouth under the pipe and drank some water. After they were finished quenching their thirsts with my mini shower, I washed out the soap, and I felt like a new creation. The Father's mercies are new every morning, (Leviticus 3: 22-23) and I definitely felt his mercy in that hair washing. I walked away, back down the path and towards the bathrooms, and I find a line of people waiting to fill their water bottles. I, being the prideful human being that I am, casually smiled and kept walking. Every one is feeling refreshed because of that water pipe.
Anyway, I walk into the restaurant where everyone is eating, and I get in line to eat. In front of me lies a cafeteria style meal, and I get to choose what my first Polish meal is. I chose wrong. That is all I have to say about that.
Also at this restaurant, I came to a realization as to what Satan himself drinks: Gas water.
We get back on the bus and finish our journey to Warsaw. There, we check into our hotel, and then we have a couple of hours to tour part of downtown Warsaw. I wish we had more time, because Warsaw was absolutely gorgeous. With a rich history, it had a great combination of old and new buildings. (Many buildings were destroyed during WWII.) We went into our first European church. D A N G. I was sold. Poland wins. The end. The magnificence of the church cannot be put into words, and cannot be captured in a picture. It can only be captured in entering, and adoring. Adoring the one who the church is for. One thing about the churches we saw, were that they had many side altars, an average of about four on each side. And each altar is dedicated to either a Saint, or a part of the Holy Family (i.e. Saint John Paul II, Sacred Heart of Jesus, Black Madonna). We held mass in that church, which I believe was called Holy Cross. Their confessionals are very different from America as well; they are very open and anyone can see you talking. I guess it is a way of testifying to the whole church, and also a way of humbling yourself, saying that "yes, I am a sinner, but I am working on it.
We also walked to Old Town, a part of Warsaw that somewhat reminded me of the French Quarter. There were entertainers on the street, little shops here and there, and churches everywhere. We walked into a chapel dedicated to Our Lady, and they began singing their Polish traditional prayer to the Black Madonna, or Our Lady of Czestochowa, at 9:00 PM.
As a group, we discovered that Polish people love Ice Cream, called Lody over there. Ice Cream shops flooded the street, and Conrad also loved Ice Cream. His not so little German face and body lit up, and I've never seen a grown man go from Point A to Point Lody so fast. We then walked back to our hotel, which was very nice, by the way. I did not feel like a pilgrim at this point, but a tourist. But man, did I have a big storm coming for me.
I roomed with Luke J. and Grant J., two awesome men who I got to know well on this trip.
I slept very well that night, finally in a horizontal position. Thus ended day 2.
Nicholas Scalfano
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