OCD and COD

OCD

This past weekend, I was supposed to travel to Krakow, Poland and on the way stop at Auschwitz (the largest Nazi concentration camp there was). Unfortunately, I woke up around 3am Friday morning (the bus was leaving at 6:30) and me and my stomach were at odds. Riding 6 hours in a bus was the last thing I wanted to do, so I opted out of going on the trip :( It was a hard decision to make, but I know that I would've been miserable on the trip if I had gone. To be honest, I think God was giving me a way to simply rest, something I don't often allow myself to do. So I spent Friday and Saturday mostly in bed (with one adventure to the store to try to buy some soup...) On Sunday, I was finally feeling good enough to actually get out of my bed and move around, so I spent a few minutes folding and putting away my laundry from a few days earlier (yes, i finally did laundry!) I mentioned to Magda that we needed to vacuum our rug and I think something must've snapped in her brain because she got in the CRAZIEST cleaning zone. Now, for those of you know know me, you know that I really enjoy cleaning (for the most part) and am generally a pretty clean person. Compared to Magda, I feel like Pigpen from Charlie Brown. She is crazy OCD, I'm pretty sure :) We spent approximately 3-4 hours yesterday cleaning every INCH of our room. And I'm not exaggerating. Magda vacuumed everything from our sweet burnt sienna window curtains to both our chairs to our shelves and everything in between. She then coached me on how to use a mop (because apparently I'm not very good at it) It was such a funny day. Magda continued to surprise me with the things she considered a necessity to clean and/or do. While she vacuumed, I tried to help out and move things and dust and what not and finally at one point she goes "You can just lay on your bed, Heather." haha. It was definitely a new experience for me. But now we have a spic and span room. All my friends always talk about how nasty their showers and toilets and sinks are, and I could never agree because ours really aren't that bad. And now I know why. :) Here are just a few pictures from our cleaning escapades... (Magda finally scolded me for taking pictures so I had to stop)

















COD

One thing that I've really come to love about living here is the large population of active old people. Since not many people drive cars, there are always plenty of cute old people (COD!) on the trams and buses and they always make for some good stories. For the most part, the old people here are pretty grumpy and rude (I mean, they did live through Communism and for the REALLY old ones, WWII) and generally don't interact with younger people (especially foreigners) except to make them get up if they need a seat on the tram/bus. It is the best thing ever, though, when an old person breaks this stereotype and does something unexpected, like smile at you. I know it seems comical, but it really can make your day when an old person smiles your way. I know, because I've experienced it first hand. A couple times, even! The other day, I was sitting on the bus on my way to class and this cuuuute little old lady sat down in the seat in front of me and set her bag on the floor between our feet. It fell forward onto my feet and she looked at me and said "Prominte!" (sorry!) I didn't know how to say it was okay back so I just smiled and tried to reassure her that it wasn't a big deal and she gave me the biggggest smile in return. It was so unexpected I couldn't stop smiling after that. We rode the rest of the way like that, her smiling, me smiling, general comraderie (even though we couldn't actually communicate) When my stop came, I got up to leave the bus and she turns to me and says "NA SHLEDANOU!" (good bye!) and had a beaming smile stretching from ear to ear. I honestly got choked up. I stammered a good bye in return and literally could not stop smiling the rest of the day as I thought about my sweet little new friend. It's great. I think what I love so much about instances like that one is that it is such a reminder that love always wins out. What I mean is, a lot of the older generation here has been hardened and made more stoic as a result of things they have lived through. But love still leaks through and it's such a joy to get to experience that. I wish I could speak the language fluently and talk to the cute old people just to hear their stories. I know they would be fascinating. But for now, I will just revel in the little ways I can communicate. And let God take it from there.