Emily's Musings

The first time I saw Poland, I panicked. This was my first trip overseas where I did not know a single person in the country. Service trip to Honduras? Piece of cake. School tour to the Mediterranean? Got it. Poland with no friends or family? Terrifying.

I was on my way from Dallas, TX to teach English at a summer camp in a small village outside of Krakow. My plane landed in Warsaw over an hour late on a chilly, drizzly morning in July. My connecting flight to Krakow was leaving in thirty minutes and the customs line seemed to inch forward, but I finally made it to the front, my passport was stamped and I took off running. Fifteen minutes later, my plane was soaring out of Warsaw heading southwest towards Krakow. The city quickly gave way to rolling hills and farmland, and before I knew it the plane was making its descent for Krakow. As the Vistula River came into focus, I saw below me a lush country side giving way to a sprawling city of winding streets and wide boulevards. Just maybe, I could do this.

Frightened of the month to come, I disembarked the plane and headed towards the unknown. At baggage claim, I scanned the crowd hoping to recognize the face I had only seen on the computer. The camp director was thankfully easy to spot and greeted me with a huge smile as I introduced myself. He ushered me over to a café table where a group of other teachers were waiting. We exited the airport and made our way through the dreary afternoon. I sleepily gazed out the window at the wheat fields and farm houses that lay between the airport and the city, sitting in awe as I got my first glimpse of Wawel Castle from across the Vistula.

Later in the evening, after the rain showers passed, I saw the Old City for the first time. The way the day’s rain settled on the cobble stones, the setting sun’s glint off the tile roofs and the medieval architecture standing guard over it all. Krakow won my heart that day, and five years later the city still has its hold over me.