Pole Spotting

Most of us immigrants can spot another immigrant from a mile away.  Familiar habits, fashions, speech, occasional racial profiling (high cheekbones and substantial ears, for example), help us make or avoid contact with each other.  In Chicago, Pole spotting is like shooting fish in a barrel.  For one, all of Polish Chicago smokes, and does it smoke!  If you want to locate a group of Poles, look for a plume of cigarette smoke and there they’ll be (these habits make my own nonsmoking commitments difficult).  I have no problem spotting fellow Poles because, in addition to smoking, we have a unique fashion sense.  For example, ladies prefer dramatic hair jobs: brunettes go super dark, coloring their hair charcoal black, while blondes go super blonde, coloring their hair platinum white (I just spotted a lady in her early sixties with punk-red hair).  A few of the ladies compromise with really chunky black/platinum highlights.  As for men, it’s stupendous, impressive moustaches.  These are giant, bushy staches that seem to grow only out of East European soil.  In addition, both genders have a tendency to overdress.  Whether shopping or praying, we put on our Sunday best.  This is a throwback to the old country.  As my grandma always says, you never know who you’re gonna run into.  On a related note, I’ve met more than one Pole over the years who, upon arrival, commented with shock and/or scorn about the natives’ inelegant public appearance.  I got a few looks just yesterday when I went Polish grocery shopping wearing worn-out khaki capris, an old black tank top, and no make-up.

Obviously, language is the surest way of spotting a fellow immigrant.  Speech in Poletown, as in any other immigrant community, has its own fashion sense.  Like all immigrants, we code-switch and use English words as part of our Polish vocabulary. Thanks to A, I found a great example of Chicago-style code-switching on youtube.  It pivots on the word “four-footer,” which, when used while one is writing or speaking Polish, gets spelled as “forfiter” and pronounced as “fourfeeter.”  The youtube clip where this comes from has become a Chicago sensation.  So much so that a few talented young men made a musical parody of it titled “forfiter blues.”  On youtube, the short description below the original clip references a popular Polish television travel/nature program titled “Pepper and Vanilla” and describes the clip in both languages:

Z cyklu "Pieprz i Wanilia" Popularny film na Youtube przedstawiający Polaka w zetknięciu z dzika naturą.

From the "Vanilla & Pepper" series, Popular clip from YT showing Polish man and the wild nature. LOL:)

In the clip, the man filming and feeding the wildlife uses the word “szwagier” repeatedly, apparently addressing his brother-in-law, as well as the word “kurwa,” a more than emphatic Polish cussword.  Beware of the foul language in both the original and its parody. 

The original (someone added subtitles by translating his Polish into English and vice versa):

 Now, “forfiter blues,” which is really well done! 

“No bierz ta kurwa kure [take the f***ing chicken]! There you go…”

Refrain: “Jest piekny.  He’s beautiful!”

“Uciekaj kurwa stad [get the f*** out of here].  Get outta here.”

The original forfiter made it on the Polish TV station POLSAT as a fun news story about Poles abroad.  Poles everywhere have begun to spoof it (I found dozens of clips!).  Here is a spoof from a vacation in Tunisia (a popular destination for Polish tourists):

All of this led me to other videos made by CeZik, the guy who made “forfiter blues.”  My favorite is his bilingual performance of Aerosmith’s Cryin’: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=icPdaH_w8d4

Poletown Adventure Continues

My encounter with Poletown continued today when I purchased multiples of pierogi packages to keep in the freezer for those evenings when cooking is not A’s friend.

According to her, this place has the best pierogis in town. I am inclined to believe her given the history of Alexandra Foods Co., which reads like an immigrant rags-to-riches story.   Also, I just tried the meat & spinach pierogi and oh my!

The couple started the business only three years after they arrived in the U.S. (penniless, I’m sure) and now they have a substantial store in addition to country-wide distribution:

Alexandra Foods Company was founded in 1992 by Polish natives, Mark & Alexandra Dembicki.  Upon their arrival in America at just 25 years old, the couple planned on starting their own business in their new home.  After saving some money they decided to embark upon their path to the American dream.  After 5 years of long hours, and often two jobs to cover expenses, their hard work finally started to pay off.  Business started to steadily increase.  After just 2 years of successful sales during 1997-1998, the couple realized they had hit a home run.  Plans and investments pushed forward and the company continued its excellent growth (http://www.alexandrapierogi.com/about.php).

There is nothing about their “path to the American Dream” or “years of long hours, and often two jobs” in the Polish version of the website.  The Polish description of Dembicki’s success simply refers to their hard work and initial financial challenges.  Needless to say, in Polish they don’t “hit a homerun” either.  We play baseball only in English.
 

As I drove to buy the pierogi, I saw a few more places with Polish signs.  They’re still freaking me out a bit, so I had to photograph at least one.

On the way back, I stopped at a grocery store to buy bread.  While in line at the register, I saw a DVD of a Swedish children's program I watched as a kid in Poland.  

I think it was shown on American TV as well, but was called Pippi Longstocking (is that right Americans?).  I adored Pippi the tomboy and her rapscallion ways.  She was tough and smart, had a monkey and rode a horse.  Her father’s job, if I remember correctly, required him to be away from home all the time because he was a pirate (the series took place in 1970s Sweden!).  Pippi’s mom was nowhere to be found (was she dead?  I can’t remember) and so the brave little girl lived alone and spent her days playing with a brother and sister who were super clean cut and afraid of everything.  It was Pippi’s job to ensure that they had a fun childhood. 

Chicago: The Ultimate Poletown

I immigrated to the U.S. in the mid eighties and ended up in Southern California.  Didn't speak English and not a Pole in sight.  If I ever heard Polish, I'd run up to that person and immediately introduce myself, hoping for a cultural connection.   Needless to say, same nationality and language do not an automatic connection make.  Throughout the last couple of decades, I've lived all over the country.  Heard more Polish in Michigan and Ohio than in California, but nothing prepared me for Chicago.  Not some years ago when I lived here for a spell or now when I visit friends.   For instance, I walked out of my goddaughter's apartment this morning to walk Grover.  I ran into at least a dozen different people, men, women, children. young and old, taking walks or getting into their cars.  All I heard was Polish.   Mind you, she does NOT live in a "Polish neighborhood."  I had to quickly change my habit of saying sweet nothings to Grover as we walked since these people could actually understand that I was trying to have a "conversation" with my dog.

As I drive around town, I see signs, billboards, and stores all advertising their wares and services in Polish or in Polish and Spanish.   I am experiencing a culture shock once more.  I was culture shocked into English and now I'm being culture shocked into Polish in English.  My cultural schizophrenia is growing another layer of fun.  Once the anxiety of this encounter wears off, I hope to enjoy it.

The sign above is for T-Mobile and says: "Mowimy po Polsku" and "Se habla Espanol."  The photo above it is of A at a giant Polish grocery store where you can buy all things Polish.

I also went to this little place called Cafe Prague.  Cafe/club/restaurant.  I wanted to have lunch and read.  Both were splendidly accomplished.  The food was excellent.  I had goulash and knedliki (Czech dumplings) and then apple strudel with a cup of coffee for dessert.    I found the place on yelp.  It's near A's place and she likes it as well.  One of the yelpers criticized it because apparently the wait staff tells you what to order and what not to order.  I found that to be true but enjoyed it thoroughly.  The server was a cute young Czech girl who first asked me whether I spoke Polish or Czech (her English was not so good).    I proceeded to order chicken and wanted to try the knedliki as I've never had them before.  She advised that that was not a good idea since the chicken is dry and comes with no sauce.  Given her English skills, the advice sounded rather like an order so I totally get the yelper's gripe.  On the other hand, I love being told what to do, so no offense here.  Bring it!

Interior view of Cafe Prague

Goulash with Knedliki and Apple Strudel

I wound up my Chicago afternoon at the Frank Lloyd Wright Home and Studio in Oak Park where I took a tour of the premises led by a rather acerbic elderly woman who had super long and yellowed toenails.  She also kept repeating the word beautiful only pronouncing it "beauteeeeful."  Given the actual attractiveness of the place, she said it quite a bit.  In the next couple of days, I hope to visit the Hemingway House and Museum (though I've never been a fan of his work or his persona), which is a few blocks from the Wright Home.

Photography is not allowed inside of the home and studio, which is too bad.  There were so many cool architectural details, furniture, and light fixtures I wanted to photograph.  I thought to sneak a couple here and there but I was afraid of the long toenailed, acerbic guide.