Why do these people all look like family?

I've been in Krakow for a few days now. Its a lovely city - was previously the capital of Poland and acts that way spiritually still. Its the hometown of John Paul II and , boy , do they like the guy.

Had a nervous flight in on Ryanair. It's a cheaper intra-European airline - but at the expense of convenience. I had to bus it to Stansted airport south of London to save $200 on a one -way to Krakow. That was great until I was re-reading Rick Steve's Eastern Europe for the gazillionth time on the plane and he mentions that companies like Ryanair sometimes fly into an airport 50 miles west of Krakow. %@(*#$#@(^&. I was sweating bullets until I saw John Paul II Airport in neon on the tarmac - we were only 10 miles outside of Krakow - whew!

Here is the main square in Krakow - one of the largest in Europe. And those are nuns walking by - don't see them everyday!

Have spent the last few days wondering the royal castle grounds and the many many Catholic churches (Poland is 97% Catholic). The churches are quite beautiful . At St Francis, the home church of JP2 in Krakow, the stained glass windows are modern - designed in the mid 1800's after the Austrians (I think, poor Poland has been run over by everybody within spitting distance) destroyed the originals. So the images are a whirl of colors and look like "The Kiss" (Klink?). The alter of St Mary's on the main square is a 20 foot by 30 foot 3D carved wooden image of Mary and the apostles - its quite moving. It was very cute up on Wawel Hill,site of the castle and cathedral - there were TONS of school-age kids in groups running around. It so reminded me of being in DC a few weeks ago and seeing the same type of groups on the mall. I love similarities like that - makes me feel like the world isn't all that big. Here's a shot of George and I in front of the national cathedral on Wawel Hill.

I am really struck by a few things. I see family and friends in so many people here - the round faces, intense eyes. My mother's parents both came from Poland so its been a treat to walk around knowing that I'm close (but not yet at) their birthplaces. I lit a candle for my mom, aunt and grandma at St Francis - my mom and her sister never got to see their mother's country. I've also been reminded of how Polish spoken by women sounds like Cantonese, or silverware dropping. Was trying to nap the other day with my window open to the McDonald's courtyard below and it felt like this woman was talking into my ear. But then I remembered the albums that my Mom would play at Christmas of Polish carols, and men and women talking and singing - and it sounded just as harsh then, but made my mother cry with memories of her father, especially.

This town reminds me of New Orleans - old buildings (though Krakow's got about 1000 years on NO), lots of tourists around. My first night I was at a guest house right on the main drag - and since it was really hot I kept my window open. Didn't sleep till 4am since people were talking and walking below my windows. Then the garbage men started cleaning up and the noise reminded me of an experience in Kenya that I had with my friends , the Evers. A small mammal named the Rock Hyrax, was cute as a button, but loud at night, we were warned. It turns out this petite relation to the elephant made a noise that Scott described as not unlike "women in prison " movie soundtrack, especially the sound of a metal cup being dragged back and forth on the bars. That hyrax and those garbagemen were just about as noisy at 4am.

Wandered the Jewish district a bit yesterday. Talk about surreal moments.... I was in the National Folk Museum looking at models of traditional Polish homes and realized that I recognized the music playing in the background. No kidding - it was "Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting".

Here is a pic of what's called a Milk Bar. They are cafeteria style restaurants where you can get food reallllly cheap - a typical meal with a starter, main and drink is $5. I loved this place - it was decorated with Dutch still life prints - a contrast to the classic stark industrial milk bars from the communist area.