Bunny Tales (2 page)

Poland is the proud homeland of Pope John Paul II, who was Archbishop of Krakow before he became Pope; Nicolaus Copernicus, the astronomer who developed the sun-centered view of the solar system; and Marie Sklodowska-Curie, who discovered radium, paved the way for nuclear physics and cancer therapy, and was the first woman to receive a Nobel Prize and the first person to receive two Nobel Prizes. The Poles also have a strong musical and artistic sense of identity. Poland inspired its favorite musical son, composer and pianist Frederic Chopin. Few people realize that the land also produced Joseph Conrad; this popular English author of seafaring novels such as
Lord Jim
and
Heart of Darkness
was actually Józef Korzeniowski, born of Polish parents.

Poland is also the birthplace of men who fought for American freedom, such as Casimir Pulaski and Thaddeus Kosciuszko. Kosciuszko, one of Poland’s greatest heroes and patriots, fought for freedom with the American Revolutionary Army. Kosciuszko distinguished himself by building and fortifying West Point and became engineer of the Southern Army. In 1783, the U.S. Congress offered him citizenship, land, a pension, and the rank of brigadier general. His indomitable devotion to the cause of freedom made him a symbol of the pursuit of freedom everywhere. Pulaski came to America in 1777 to fight in the war for independence and, as a cavalry general, won distinction in numerous campaigns. Mortally wounded in the Battle of Savannah, he left behind him a cavalry unit that became the nucleus for future squadrons and earned him the title “Father of the American Cavalry.” In recognition for his services, numerous towns, schools, highways, and bridges in the United States were named after him.

Poland has a remarkable history of heroism and tragedy. It was the country most devastated by World War II in eastern Europe, losing about a quarter of its population and almost its entire Jewish community. Although blessed in its geographical location, Poland has been unfortunate in its political implications. Situated in the heart of Europe, between Germany and Russia, Poland has always been vulnerable. Poland was the first victim of World War II, which began when Poland was blitzkrieged by the Nazis from the west and later by the Russians who attacked it from the east. Having no natural borders from its aggressive neighbors, Poland had no chance. The aftermath of the war greatly influenced the character of the country. Former Jewish centers in the cities and the stark concentration camps where the Nazis carried out their extermination atrocities, remain as the most stirring reminders of the nation’s tragedies. Poland is home to some of the world’s most horrific places, including Oswiecim, more commonly known as Auschwitz. Cities destroyed by the war had to be rebuilt from scratch, and the many meticulously restored historic buildings and historic old towns are testimony to the pride and determination of a strong and durable nation.

The war is not just a painful distant memory; it is deeply embedded in my family’s history. My dad was born in 1939, the first year of WWII, and his childhood was marred by the terrors and hard times of the war. His family lived on the eastern frontlines of the war in Poland, where the Russian troops were trying to push the Germans back west. Both sides shot anyone or anything that moved, and thousands of Poles were getting killed in the crossfire. My dad’s family home was shot at, their only cow was killed, and when the house caught fire, the family horse burnt alive inside as they had no time to free it, barely escaping death themselves. My dad was just a baby, and his father carried him on his back as the family walked for days, over 20 miles in distance to places of safety. He remembers that during the day the people would hide in the forests, and at night they would keep walking to get away from the frontlines. People clustered near streams so they and any animals they were able to bring with them had water to drink. He remembers that many times guns were fired on those gathered, and the waters of the streams turned crimson with blood. When the refugees reached distant towns, strangers took them in and gave them a place on the floor to sleep. They had to beg for food because, when they ran from their homes, there was no time to pack money or food; a minute could be the difference between life and death. My father’s desperate situation didn’t end with the fight for the frontlines; one of his brothers was killed after trying to clear a local field of landmines. My grandmother, Marianna, died early after the hardships of war took their toll on her, and I never got to meet her.

The war was just as poignant in my mother’s life. While my father was born into the hellish time of war, my mother was born a few years after it ended, when the devastated country was struggling to rebuild. My maternal grandfather, Jozef, had been arrested and sent to Auschwitz for protecting and helping Jewish people during the war. He spent more than two years being overworked and tortured at the camp. He managed to survive, but when he returned home he was a ghost of the man he used to be. My grandmother was left to take care of five children and an entire farm on her own. She worked harder than any woman I ever knew. My mom taught me to respect my elders, and I loved my grandma very much. When I was a little girl, I used to make her cards for Women’s Day (a European holiday honoring all women), her birthday, and any other occasion. I remember that she always managed to stash away a little bit of money for me so that I could buy myself something I really wanted. I never met my maternal grandfather, though; when my mom was a teenager, he died from the never-ending chronic conditions he developed in Auschwitz. War and its consequences pervaded my identity and life.

It was this shadow of World War II in which I grew up. Not only was the war and its legacy a nightmare carved into the nation’s consciousness, but the war had also left our nation at the disposal of our enemy. The Iron Curtain had fallen, and Poles found themselves on the wrong side of it. It was not the side people wanted to be on. We belonged to the Communist bloc, but wanted nothing more than to be on the other side. I remember being keenly aware, even as a child, of the injustice that befell my country. As a way of protesting, I refused to learn Russian, even though it was eventually a required subject in school. I watched the television, looking up to the American president Ronald Reagan, and longed for him to be the president of my country. I admired Margaret Thatcher; she was one of my first role models, an attorney and female leader—she was one of my inspirations to pursue a legal career later on in life. I couldn’t help but feel our predicament was unfair; why did
my
country get invaded by Hitler first? Why didn’t anyone help, and why did the West allow us to fall under Communist rule? These are not the usual questions a child under the age of ten struggles with, but I did. I think the fact that the realities of the world were the realities of my childhood made me grow up and mature more quickly. But that was not all; I had promised myself that when I grew up, I would not be a victim of circumstance or location. I was going to take control of my life one day; I intended to live in freedom, like others, and experience all that life has to offer. When I met Hugh Hefner, he embodied all of the freedom and fantasies I envisioned as a little girl.

As if having to come to terms with historical past was not complicated enough, having to deal with the reality of Communism was no picnic either. What was Communism? Technically speaking, the government, in the name of the people, owned the factories, farms, mines, and other means of production. People could no longer own their own profit-making businesses and farms, as in the capitalist system. Government economic planners decided what and how much should be produced each year, what the prices should be, and what wages should be paid to the workers. Although the government guaranteed everyone the right to work, the wages were low. Heavy industry such as steel making and coal mining was emphasized. Consumer goods like automobiles, clothing, and TVs became scarce and expensive. Pollution became a major problem, but environmental problems were largely ignored. Housing, built mainly by the government or group cooperatives, was always in short supply. Often, two or three generations of a family lived in a threeroom apartment. Newlyweds usually had to wait years for a small apartment of their own. But everyone had a home; homelessness was not a problem. Long lines were a part of daily life, when oranges or bananas appeared at the local grocery store once every few months, the lines went on for blocks. Every day, women would go from shop to shop to get items. Even when in stock, there was little variety of goods. Often there was only one type of laundry soap, one flavor of ice cream, and one kind of coffee.

My father held a high position at the largest steel plant in the country, Huta Katowice, and he earned a good salary. My family had a very good life in comparison to most people. We had our own spacious apartment, a big garden, and we had a car, which was a luxury at that time. My mom had an economics degree from college but was able to stay home and take care of me until I was about seven years old. I am an only child, and my parents spoiled me. Despite the shortages in Poland, I had dozens of dolls, a doll carriage, and a miniature piano; I had a snack bar in my room full of sweets and everything else a child could wish for. I was so loved that I could not imagine sharing the love my parents gave me with anyone else; when my relatives asked if I wanted a cute little brother or sister to play with, I hysterically screamed “No!” Now as an adult, I wish I had a sister or brother to go through life with because nothing is more important to me than family.

As a child, I spent part of my summer vacations visiting my aunt Stasia, my father’s sister, who lived in a charming village called Makowiska in southeastern Poland. She, my uncle, and my cousin Adam lived in a great country house with a working farm. They had a barn and every farm animal there is; it was there that I befriended chickens, cows, pigs, horses, and bunnies—of course, bunnies were my favorite. When I lived at the Mansion and saw all the bunnies running around, it definitely took me back in time to my childhood. At five years old, I decided to become vegetarian because I simply could not eat my friends. Every dinner was torture for me as my father would not let me leave the table until I finished my meal, and meat was always the only thing left on my plate. Luckily for me, we had a table that had a middle extension and it provided a perfect place for me to stash my meat and throw it out later. I would also resort to throwing it out the window as soon as my mom was not looking, and when we got my dog Nuka, she would camp at my feet, and I would sneak it all off to her. I also hated eggs, milk, and anything else that came from animals. I have carried that love of all animals with me my entire life. Though I have eased my dietary restrictions, animal welfare and protection has become one of the most important causes for me.

I realize just how very lucky I was and am, having two parents who love me very much and who took care of me my entire life. My parents would do anything for me and have worked hard all their lives so that I could have a better life and a brighter future. My mom is my best friend. She is kind, gentle, and caring. She has always supported me and my decisions, even if it meant she had to make sacrifices for me to realize my dreams.

My father is a hard-working, dedicated man. And though I always knew he loved me, he was the disciplinarian, and he wasn’t afraid to take off his belt to teach me a lesson. But I rarely got into trouble; I was a straight-A student. I was responsible and polite. I was also raised as a good Catholic girl. Poland is a predominantly Catholic country, and has a sense of nationhood to which the Catholic Church is fundamental. At a time when people had very little, religion provided faith, strength, and hope. Religion offered meaning in life and beautiful traditions in Polish culture. Valor and patient endurance of the Polish people prevailed through Communism, thanks to a faith that matured in trial and hardship. Back when the country was cut off from the free world, Poland relied on its extraordinary religious faith. The fact that his holiness Pope John Paul II was Polish was extremely significant to me and all Poles. He was the link between us and God. He was this amazing man who spoke so many languages and traveled all over the world feeling at home wherever he went. I idolized him. He was my inspiration. I saw him as a child when he came back to visit Krakow. To me he is the greatest Pole who ever lived.

My parents always taught me about the world and encouraged me to learn. My father would go around the house quoting Adam Mickiewicz, Poland’s most famous poet and the leader of Polish romanticism, who wrote many masterpieces, including
Pan Tadeusz
, which have been translated into several languages. As a child I could recite poems by Julian Tuwim and Jan Brzechwa. As I got a little older my father encouraged me to read books by Henryk Sienkiewicz, a Polish novelist and winner of the Nobel Prize for literature whose works have been published in fifty languages. Among Sienkiewicz’s most famous novels is the widely translated and filmed
Quo Vadis
, a story set in the times of the Roman emperor Nero, which became the number one worldwide best-selling novel of all time. One of the positive things about Communism was that all education, from elementary school through college, was free. The government in most eastern European countries required all children to attend school until age sixteen. By the 1980s, illiteracy had been eliminated in most eastern European countries.

Having a car allowed us the privilege of travel. My parents have a saying that I was “born on the road” because ever since I was a baby, we were always going on trips. We traveled all around eastern Europe. At an early age I had the advantage of spending summer holidays on the Black Sea coasts of Romania and Bulgaria and exploring Hungary, Russia, and East Germany. Our journeys were restricted to eastern European countries because travel to western Europe was not permitted: most people who got the chance to go “west” would not return. We would arrive home from these trips with unique souvenirs, cute clothes, and school supplies that other children simply did not have.