In the US, using plastic to pay is simple and speedy. Here in Poland using a credit card is a little bit more of a process. Especially an American credit card. It’s about on par with the Wisey’s credit card machine. In fact, using a Polish credit card with a chip seems fairly expedient–swipe, enter PIN, done. With my chip-less credit card, the store has to punch in a special code, wait forever for my card to be processed, and then ask me to sign the receipt. As part of the processing process, the credit card reader detects that I am using an American credit card and asks whether to charge my card in zloty (Polish currency) or dollars. Usually vendors make the decision for me, but the other the girl ringing me up in Reserved, a Polish clothing store, asked me, in English “Dollars or zloty?”
I prefer to be charged in zloty so I get the bank’s exchange rate, so I replied, “Zloty.” Then she got very flustered. She switched to Polish: “Oh, przepraszam pani (I’m sorry miss), I thought you were from the States.”
A small victory for me–blending into Polish society enough that a store clerk thinks her assumption that I am American was mistaken. After three months of living in Poland, these small victories are starting to add up. I walk around Krakow these days like I own it. Most days I feel like I have conquered Krakow. My old primary worry–where to find tasty, varied food is gone. I have made my own guacamole, attended a barbeque, found a pretty good pan-Asian restaurant, scouted out the best Greek salad, frequented the Krakovian version of Georgetown Cupcake, become a regular at a vegetarian restaurant, and found some Polish favorites as well.
Every now and again, though, my own assumptions betray the confident Krakovian I have become. The other day I was supposed to meet with my professor to discuss my final paper for his class. I had never been to his office before, and he assured me it was easy to find: “Golebia Street, number 10, first floor.” I left in plenty of time to make our 6:30 meeting, but when I made it to the building I could not find the office. The building was, in typical Polish style, built around several courtyards, which made my search frustrating and confusing. I finally stopped a Polish student to ask for directions. He thought for a while, searching for the right words in English: “Make a left, no, right, go through the door, out into the courtyard, through the….[hand motion of an archway] then make a right, go through the first door, go up the stairs across from the secretary’s office…”
And then I realized my mistake. I assumed, like most Americans would, when my professor said “first floor” he meant “ground floor.” In Poland, the first floor is the first floor up the stairs. I had been searching the entirely wrong floor of this building for his office.
More than anything, my study abroad experience has been about challenging assumptions, even unconscious ones. I started this experience with a less than blank slate with regards to Poland. Sometimes I wondered if I should have gone to a different country, tried something new. But in the end (well, I really shouldn’t say that since I’ll be here for a month still), Krakow has constantly challenged me–I’ve found a way to make Krakow work for me, but Poland still hasn’t given up all its secrets.
