Blast from the Past

It’s been almost a month since I wrote last. But that was before all the craziness started. In the next few posts I hope to share with you about the many things that I have been doing. I have been on the go for the last 5 weeks and even though I have really been enjoying myself, I realised that I need some “down time” to regenerate, relax and reflect.

On Thursday, just over three weekends ago, my boss announced to me that we would be leaving the following day to drive to a place called Wisła where we would be presenting about our organisation.

Wisła (or Vistula) is a place in the polish mountains where the main river—which cuts Poland in half--originates. It is an amazing place situated in a valley with high mountains towering over the small township of 12,000 residents (and many more tourists). During summer Wisła is an ideal place for mountaineers as well as Nordic walkers as there are a number of mountain trails that can be climbed and walking tracks that can be explored. In winter, however, it turns into a winter wonderland as the mountains become covered with amazing white powder that provides an ideal setting for a great skiing experience. There are a number of slopes for all type of skiers, ski jumps as well as other adventure activities for the more adventurous souls. Furthermore, if lucky, while visiting Wisła, you may come across the Olympic Ski Jump Silver-medallist, Adam Małysz, as this is his home-town.

But despite all these amazing things about Wisła, Wisła holds a special sentimental value for me as it is a place where I spent my holidays as a 9 and 10 year old, as well as being a place where I fell in ‘love’ for the first time.

When I was little (smaller than I am now), my sister Ula and I got to go to a “junior camp”. It was the most exciting thing for both of us, as it was the first time that we went away without our parents. We were really excited but also really anxious. At first after our parents left, my sister Ula got a little upset but as soon as we met other kids our worries melted away and we quickly made new friends and joined in in the fun and games.

During the first year at the camp, I took everything in slowly as I wanted to get to know how the camp worked. But the first thing that I noticed was that all the girls were not playing with boys like I was used to, there was no climbing trees and the like, instead they were trying to draw attention to themselves and constantly sending their friends to talk to the boy they “liked” or the boy that was their “boyfriend”. I really didn’t pay attention to that, the boy I liked at that stage (I was 9) was about 14 and was “going-out” with another girl so I got on with trying to make it up the 4 different mountains that the leaders took us to.

Now that I reflect, I understand why we did so much mountain climbing, the leaders were trying to tire us out so that we wouldn’t bother them at night—and let me tell you, it worked! But even though we were exhausted by the end of the camp, it was one of the more memorable events in my life. The next year, however, became more memorable because at that camp I met my first “boyfriend” (It’s in inverted commas because I was 10 for goodness sake!).  

Ok, so that year we got to camp—my sister and I were lucky enough to bring our brother along even though he was too young. I remember it being a big deal because our parents had to cut a deal with the organisers to allow Jonasz to come, but eventually Jonasz was able to come.

As soon as we got to camp all the gossip and the girliness from the previous year begun.  As I got into the room with all the girls, I was flooded with questions about who I knew from the previous year, if I had a boyfriend and if I liked any boys that were there. I remember them telling me about how this one boy, that was at camp the previous year, said that he liked me. And that’s pretty much how I started “going out” with Marcin.

My relationship with Marcin exhibited itself in that we spoke to each other, we sat next to each other on the bus and on chair lifts, Marcin carrying my bag when we went mountain climbing and Marcin dragging my brother up mountains when Jonasz could not go any further (Jonasz was 5 at that time).

When I think back, I smile and laugh. For me at 10, that was the happiest I’ve ever been. The most popular guy at camp liked me, all the girls wanted to be me and all the boys wanted to go out with me while I was just having fun enjoying the camp. A perfect scenario. A scenario that many-a-time I wished would repeat itself.

Unfortunately we cannot stop time, go back to the fond times in our life. At some point we have to grow up, face reality and move on. For me, the point of growing up came the day that our family moved to Australia.

In my previous post, I spoke about how difficult it was to learn a new language, to leave the language and culture that I knew and to begin everything anew. And I must say, that was hard! But what was even harder was becoming a translator for my family at 11 years of age as this not only meant that I had to do things that I didn’t like, but it also meant that I had to grow up. As I now look back, I realise that I was not ready to grow up just yet.

When I became a translator for my family, I learnt many valuable lessons. Lessons on how to negotiate so that I could get a good deal when buying whitegoods, electrical appliances, a car or even negotiating accommodation, how to deal with Centerlink and local government when they are trying to “screw you over”, how to pay bills and even how to translate peculiar medical terms.

All these were valuable lessons which on one hand I’m glad I’ve learnt but on the other hand I feel that learning them so young forced me grow up too early. I didn’t get eased into responsibility like everyone else, I had to take it on and run with it.

I guess that’s why generally when you ask someone what they think of me they will say “quiet, responsible and organised” but you’ll seldomn hear “fun, spontaneous, risk-taking”. I have had to be “responsible” for so long that I lost the fun-loving, adventurous, energetic kid that I once was. A kid who, as my mum describes, would have so much energy that I would make up for both myself and my sister combined.

As I visited Wisła three weeks ago, and looked out of the same window of the “holiday retreat”, ate in the same dining room and walked in the same corridors as 16 years ago while vacationing there with my brother and sister,  I thought about the fun-loving person that I was, about the responsible person that I am now and about the type of person that I want to become.

Sixteen years ago I would not have imagined that the events of my life would shape me to become the person that I am today and that I would change so much. And, today I probably can’t imagine what I will be like in the future. But at whatever stage of my life I am, I need to be happy with who I am now. Because there’s no point in dwelling on the past, or trying to look toward the future, because life is lived in the present.