God’s Land
God truely does love Poland. Not only has it been sunny and beautiful every weekend (pissy and cloudy in the work week), the beer is cheap, as is the vodka, and the fooz is free! That’s right, we have never felt more certain of our decision to come to this country to teach than when we found in our local pub, only a scant hundred meters from our front door, a foozball table that never needs to be fed. It sits there on a Friday night, after a long week of lesson planning and lesson failing, and it waits for us to abuse it’s players and curse it’s goalie when he’s obviously asleep on the job, letting that pathetic shot of Matt’s in.
Matt and I first got hooked in the fooz only a month or so ago when we visited our friend Mike in Revelstoke BC. Mike was entertaining us in the lovely province that I’ve spent way too little time in. At his service, he had his sisters lovely house, complete with a foozball table. After a long day of hiking, we were home at a good time, had a wonderful meal, and by 10 pm were so ready for bed. But let’s have one more game of fooz first. I don’t know the science behind it, but the energy realeased by one game of fooz—actually there is no such thing as one game of fooz, more like one installment, which is like 10 games minimum—but the energy released by one installment of fooz was enough to keep us going for another five hours, and I no longer felt like a tired old person. Ah, the fooz.
But I digress—Poland, it’s got the fooz. In fact it’s got the piłkarzyki.
It’s way more than mere pub games that has us happy to be here. We’re working with some wonderful people from North America and Australia, and our hosts here have gone way above the call of duty, and have been showing us a great time. Oh, and our appartment is more than we ever could have asked for.
I hope to get some pictures up soon so you can see what I’m talking about. If you can’t wait, I suggest getting your ass over here to what the locals refer to as the center of Europe, we’d love to have you.