emotional spring

The snow fell again. The sun is shining. I'm in Warsaw. It's beautiful.

Today in the streets we conducted a sociolinguistic research. Together with O. we studied frequency of various Polish names for a pencil sharpener and a plastic bag. I had to abandon my form of the scared vulnerable one, who in the everyday life perceives the passers-by as potential thieves/rapists/canvassers, in order to get into ecstasies over the people, most of them being half asleep at 10.30 a.m. I almost got lockjaw from this amount of smiling, O. blew her nose all the time. Among elderly ladies, all refused to talk to us. Among young mothers wandering with her babies – none refused. Young gentlemen seemed embarrassed. The sunlight was intense, the air frosty. The cobblestones slippery. And I liked every part of it.

For the first time since I've been stationed in Warsaw I have the awareness that N. is staying at the parents' place. Strange that it feels exactly the same as when she was 5,000 km away. But on the other hand I had a feeling on Sunday that some missing piece has fallen into its place, that something made me feel like I used to feel some time earlier. I thought I was missing it. I'm not. Actually, for the first time since... long time ago I'm glad that I'm moving forward. When M.B. suggested few weeks ago I should have perhaps accompanied her in Cracow, I was surprised how obvious and clear it was, that I'm here to stay. In Warsaw, with its university, movie theaters, conference halls and joints. And I'm safe – if nothing changes dramatically, I have 3 years of studying at the university ahead of me. And I know I'm able to do it. Perhaps I'm in a good place to look for opportunities from.

Or maybe I'm so frightened by N.'s attitude that I'm trying to persuade things myself.

I find it strange that winter has become my emotional spring.
Just like last year this time I'm listening to Tracy Chapman all the time.
I want to call M., first time since her mom died. I'm scared to death.