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.