Chicago, St. Louis, The Delta… Krakow? It turns out Polish blues is pretty awesome. But first, some background:

Smoking, Drinking, and Bathroom Line Lurkery

Thursday was Thanksgiving and Poland doesn’t give a shit about Thanksgiving. I was feeling mopey, missing my friends and family, Street Fighter II Turbo marathons, and going out back home for relatively awkward conversation with people from high school I don’t know very well. I decided the best thing to do would be to get out of the apartment, go see some music, and have relatively awkward conversations with people I don’t know at all!

There’s a cozy little underground bar with live music close to my apartment. This is part of it:

You walk down a narrow set of stairs from the sidewalk to the entrance, push past a black velvet curtain, and enter a series of curved brick-ceiling rooms connected by narrow corridors. Bars like this are common in Poland and seem to frequently lack even a modicum of ventilation, which is unfortunate for non-smokers because I have decided that Poland is a nation of balls-out, unapologetic chain-smokers. You can smoke almost anywhere here and people do. With reckless abandon. My jeans smell like a strange mix of Polish bar and dog kibble right now.

I found this particular spot last week after going to an Irish pub called “The Irish Embassy,” which is right next to the actual American Embassy in Krakow. America has a consulate, Ireland has a bar. Surprise. There I met a middle-aged car mechanic from the island of Jersey between France and England. He was in Krakow pissing away part of a big settlement he got in his divorce. He explained at length to me why his wife cheating on him three years ago was the best thing that’d ever happened to him as he now finds himself buying cars, going where he wants, and seeing his kids on the weekends.

From the Irish Embassy, I moved on to the aforementioned underground music bar. I had a quite an enjoyable time at this bar last week stationing myself outside the bathroom and talking to everyone in the place while I had them cornered with nowhere to go as they waited to pee. I was a bathroom line lurker. Everyone understandably thought I was waiting to go myself, would ask about it in Polish, and then I would ask if they speak English. Instant conversation! They’ve got nowhere to go and I’ve got nobody better to talk to. Perfect. I gallantly ushered them in front of me as I sized up my next victim.

The Blues? In Poland? Yup.

On Thanksgiving, I returned to the underground music bar. One might expect such a bar in the heart of Poland to have a healthy dose of Mazurka or Klezmer music. (Will anyone other than Ryan Hertz even know what these are? Did anyone other than Ryan Hertz major in Ethnomusicology?) Probably wouldn’t expect blues, though. And if there was blues, it probably wouldn’t be worth your time.

Enter Joanna Pilarska (pictured right) and Arek. She’s a Polish blues singer and guitar player who had a gig at the bar on Thanksgiving night. And sing, she did. Arek played guitar. It was the Dr. Pepper of Polish Thansgivings. No need for line-lurking this time around.

I met a Norwegian oil rig worker who bought all my drinks for me. His wife was sick at the hotel but he had to come see the blues. Loose on cheap Polish beer, this man eventually stumbled back to his hotel to go “wake up the missus - sick or not!” Sorry, lady. It’s not my fault. Thanks for the drinks, though, buddy.

After a set break, I moved closer to the stage with the below-mentioned group of guys. Given my handle on the English language and obvious enjoyment of the show, Joanna handed me the microphone at one point during Tracey Chapman’s “Give Me One Reason.” I tried not to think about my awful Rock Band vocal performances and shamelessly belted it out without hesitation. The people cheered and the band didn’t need to activate Overdrive and save me. Great success!

The crappy audio from my point-and-shoot Canon doesn’t do this justice, but here’s a video sampling from the four hour show. The What’s Up closer by 4 Non Blondes was a big hit:

Joanna Pilarska in Krakow from Nathan Shipley on Vimeo.

Joanna and Arek are part of bigger band called “Joanna Pilarska & Na Drodze.” Their MySpace page is here, for the curious.

Bartek Busts a Flow

After the show, I hung out with a group of guys which included Bartek. Like me, Bartek loves hiphop. Upon mention of Wu-Tang’s “Triumph,” the trans-Atlantic gap between Polish and American cultures was instantly bridged. Bartek mostly kept up with me as we recited Inspectah Deck’s part, “I bomb atomically, Socrates’ philosophies and hypothesis can’t define how I be droppin’ these - mockeries, lyrically perform armed robbery,” etc. Thanks to 36 Chambers and to gangster rap in general. You’re still bringing people together.

Bartek then went in to a 2 or 3 minute freestyle session with his friend beat boxing for him. Here’s a clip. Anyone know Polish and want to translate this for me? I’d love to subtitle it.

Bartek Busts a Flow from Nathan Shipley on Vimeo.

The GZA? In Poland? Yes.

Speaking of Wu-Tang, GZA is playing in Krakow tomorrow. This promises to be interesting. Hopefully the show isn’t sold out. I’m trying to get in touch with Bartek to see if he wants to go.

More soon, people! I’ve got some decisions to make about where I’m going next. It’s looking like Turkey, but Latvia / Lithuania are also options. Or Belarus. And then it’s on to India which, if you have any idea of what’s going on with the news at the moment, looks, to say the least, interesting.

Hi. I’m Nathan.

Just get here from TravelBlogs.com? Want a quick intro to me and my trip? The About Page aughta be helpful. I have no real plan, but there’s a rough framework of what I’m doing on The ‘Plan’ page. For the truly lazy, a 5-second explainer of what my trip is about is the equation to the right.

I’m currently in Krakow, Poland after spending more than four incredible months in South America. Two months in Peru, two months in Colombia, and a week in Buenos Aires before a change in (non-existent) plans lead me here. I’m still missing me some South America.

Here are a few stories to get you started:

When I was in Peru, I pretended to be a doctor visiting from the United States and lied to children:
Dr. Shipley Visits Peru

I ended up with two transsexuals at a gay bar in Bogota after heading out in search of a stripper that does tricks with bottles.
In Search of Bottle Girl

In Colombia, I went to Pablo Escobar’s now-defunct estate and had to bribe some cops on the way over:
Bribing Cops and the Strange World Pablo Escobar’s Estate

After a Colombian death metal show, a crazy guy told me God was going to kill me and all the gringos. Then we met Sausage Shorts:
Death Metal and The Suicidal Crazytime Screamer

Thanks for stopping by. Have a look around! Enjoy the story.

I have just gotten back from my second night at the much-anticipated Etiuda & Anima film festival in Krakow. I’ve been to three 2-hour shows of shorts now and there’s plenty more where that came from. While I was there, I mentioned to the Film Festival that I have some production people amongst my readers, and they asked me to please post the following letter for consideration.

November 14, 2008:

FROM: The Polish Film Festival, Krakow, Poland
TO: Filmmakers

Dear Filmmaker,

Hello. We, The Polish Film Festival, cordially invite you to submit your film to our festival. As the 2008 festival wraps up, we’re looking for new exciting entries for the 2009 Polish Film Festival and along with ANYTHING else we can scrape up, we want YOUR film.

We receive the same common questions from many different filmmakers and would like to go over those questions with you right away. To make this simple and assuage any concerns you might have about submitting your film, here is the Polish Film Festival FAQ for Filmmakers:

Polish Film Festival FAQ for Filmmakers:

Q: What if my film was shot on shit DV and looks terrible? Should I still send it in?
A: SEND IT IN!

Q: What if I haven’t had any time to do any audio editing and am just using the on-camera microphone in my film? Is that a problem? Is it unprofessional?
A: We don’t care. SEND IT IN!

Q: What if my film is supposed to be a “deep” documentary about an Arab kid that annoys tourists at ruins and tries to get them to buy postcards but everyone is rude to him and no one buys the post cards and every shot is the handheld camera 1 foot from his face as he walks around pestering people? Would that be a good fit for your festival?
A: Absolutely. SEND IT IN.

Q: Do I need characters in my film?
A: No.

Q: Should there be a lot of people credited that worked on my film to surprise viewers that so many people had a hand in it’s creation, even though it still ended up sucking REALLY hard?
A: Not required, but definitely a plus. SEND IT IN.

Q: What if my film is really “artsy” and just kinda weird for the sake of weird? What if it’s 15 diconnected, random scenes and then ends with several wide shots of public places where everybody just freezes and stops walking and then they all lie down on the ground and then I include several other shots of people lying on the ground kind of like they’re dead and then the dog that I kept cutting back to with the heartbeat sound on the patio goes back in to the living room and sits across from the TV with the video of the fish in the aquarium on it before it cuts to black and rolls credits?
A: That is truly beautiful. You know what to do. SEND. IT. IN!!!

Q: What if my film is about 10 minutes long but only has a shot of cars going along a street, a really zoomed in shot of the moon REALLY SLOWLY crossing the screen, and a shot of a guy hanging off of a boat in a harbor by his arms? If it helps, I can include the sound effect of a gunshot in the middle of it and a quick cut to someone’s face.
A: We are speechless. We need this movie.

Q: What if my film is called “Karaoke” and has a fucked up bizarro German song and consists of 4 solid minutes of a full-frontal naked man screaming in to a microphone while a fat guy sleeps on a coach in front of him and his breathing is in fast motion?
A: WE WILL LOVE THIS MOVIE! SEND IT IN!!!!

Q: What if my film has literally no narrative whatsoever?
A: SEND IT IN!

Hopefully this FAQ will take care of some of the most common questions our prospective filmmakers have before submitting a film to The Polish Film Festival. While we are quite selective in what we include in the festival, it takes a special breed of filmmaker to be included in our show.

We hope that you’ll consider a submission and then after the screening you will leave in disgust before the second set of films is over and walk home in a huff, too angry and disappointed to even go in to a bar and have a beer on a Friday night.

We look forward to hearing from you, Filmmaker.

Best Regards,
- The Polish Film Festival

So. Yeah. That is an excerpt from an email I actually sent to a friend when I got home last night. On a Friday night. I tried to think of how to describe the film festival to blog readers, and decided against re-making the wheel.

On the bright side, it has inspired me to create things. Maybe something people will laugh with, possibly relate to on some level, or even enjoy.

Ah, who am I kidding? There’s no market for stuff like that.

Send ‘em in, people.

Where I Live

It’s a small studio near the center of Krakow owned by a very nice Polish family. Mom, Dad, and the two boys (26 and 20) live upstairs.  Mom doesn’t understand why her eldest son Andrzej doesn’t want to get married. I’m with you, Andrzej. Fight the power.

In the interest of geekery, we’re going to try a little something different for the apartment tour this time. I’ve sloppily put together a 360 degree Quicktime file of my apartment that you can click on and pan around to have a look. Just click on the image and get your drag on (If you want to get fancy you can hold the Shift or Control button with your mouse over the image to zoom in or out.):

Be curious to hear if this works for people.

A Thursday Night in Kazimierz

A typical bar or club in central Krakow is underground. Not secret underground but actually underground. You can’t see most bars from the street and thus have to walk in to a gated alley and then down in to the cellar of a building. I was initially confused when I got here because, seeing no people, I thought everything was dead. Turns out you just need to go down the typically precarious stairs to the basement. It actually has a cool and cozy feel to it most of the time - exposed brick walls, low, curved ceilings, candle light. The Kazimierz area, on the other hand, is a bit more typical - the bars are just at street level and have plain old windows.

Polish Satan and his Girlfriend

Thursday night started in one such Kazimierz bar playing the Marilyn Manson version of “Tainted Love.” I met Polish “Satan” and his girlfriend by getting in to an argument over who did the original version. They said it was The Cure, which is what initially brought me in to the conversation. The bartender (pictured right), who Wikipedia tells me was actually correct, said it was originally by Gloria Jones. I erroneously insisted that it was Soft Cell.

Polish Satan’s real name is “Gregor.” That’s him and his lady pictured below to the left. Gregor is an electrical engineering student. However, he emphasized that as an atheist he prefers to be called Satan and/or Lucifer. Subtle. I respected his request, but was more entertained when he took his hair out of the ponytail and we all agreed that he looked the most like Jesus.

This lead to an entertaining conversation of me fielding questions about America. Satan’s girlfriend initially started this off by saying, “Tell me about you country.” I rambled for a little bit and then asked if she had any more specific questions. She did. For example, things like, “When you walk down road is all person really so fat?” or “Why is United State so crazy??”

For the first time I got to practice my new Obamafied outlook when she asked about the elections! Nice. She is an Obama fan, but I had to explain that the N word is not the preferred way to refer to a black / African American guy. Satan already knew this.

Attempting to Swear in Polish and English

We then continued by having a conversation about our respective languages. As with any typical language conversation, it went straight to the interesting stuff: cuss words. I can now say all manner of filth in Polish. Or rather, because Polish is a really difficult language, I have to actually take out my notebook, find the right page, and read the words that I have copied down phonetically in English, which tends to make it funnier due to the overall awkwardness of the process and inevitable mispronunciation. “Oh, wait, wait! I got one. Hold on, hold on… let me just find it here. … Yeah. Kurwa! Zajebiście!” Hilarity ensues.

Satan’s girlfriend had just been informed that day that she was going to be fired by her (coincidentally American) employer and was drowning her sorrows at the bar. She wanted to practice her English swear words and her inebriation made the entire conversation all the more ridiculous. The most confusing for her seemed to be the phrase, “Take a shit.” The conversation went like this:

Polish girl, “But this words I do not understand. To make, ehh, poop, to make shit — you know hhhow is this — is this the correct word? Shit?”

Me, “Yes. That’s it.”

Polish girl, “Yes. I have to go to toilet now and make shit. But that is not how you will say. What will you say? I do not remember the correct.”

Me, “I think you mean you need to ‘take a shit.’”

Polish girl gets excited now and continues, “YES! Yes, this is! Why is this? ‘Take a shit?’ I make a shit. I do not take to you when I finish. It stays and I do not take it. You know, it…” She trailed off and did her best to pantomime flushing a toilet and spinning her hands around like water being flushed.

Me, “Yeah, it’s just one of those things, I guess. Just how we say it. Take a shit.”

This was apparently very funny to her. She couldn’t stop laughing at the mental image she had by our misleading phrase. She laughed and rambled on about how she was going to “go the toilet and take back gift for American.” “I will take you my shit! Where is the bag!?” she exclaimed. Next to her, Satan laughed.

The bartender was starting to pour free shots for our group, which seems to be common here. Not wanting to get sloppy, I made my exit. Like my old man says, you can’t soar with the eagles in the morning if you hoot with the owls at night. There was a little more hooting to do, though, I just didn’t want to fall out of the tree.

Kazimierz Karaoke

From here I stopped by one of the many stands that sell cheap long pieces of bread topped with a variety of different options. I think they’re called “zwykła” but I really can’t be certain. They’re very popular late-night food in Krakow. I chose one with salami because it was the only thing I was relatively certain I could pronounce properly and avoid too much confusion with the restaurant workers who never speak English. There’s the menu pictured below.

I hung out with a group of art students outside for a little bit before making my way to a bar called “Fuego” for karaoke, which was the entire point of me heading out.

The karaoke was happening, but it wasn’t super crowded. Perhaps I got there a little bit too late. However, within minutes I met a big group of Polish people and a random French guy that ended up being fun to hang out with. Unfortunately, I was unable to find any hiphop represented in the selection of available songs. There was a pretty even mix of Polish songs and American/British songs.

This video below is roughly what it was like. Witness “Always” by Bon Jovi being belted out by a duo. When it got to the faster part of the song, the female singer did backup (or just gave up and went with a single-sound approach instead of specific words). The guy with the pony tail is supposed to be doing the other part. Apparently one girl did not approve of the pony-tailed guy’s job and actually tried to take the microphone away from him mid-song. As you will see, he did not like this. Poor form on her part.

Karaoke in Krakow at “Fuego” from Nathan Shipley on Vimeo.

Awesome. I love karaoke. I’ll be going back.

How’m I Eatin’ in Poland?

Cheap, Polish, and occasionally confused.

Going to restaurants here is even more of a crapshoot than in South America, where I would at least have some idea what I was getting myself in to. Polish menus are complete mysteries to me. I just point at something that isn’t too expensive and eat what they bring me.

My favorite staple thus far has been make-’em-at-home pierogis. Buy frozen:

Boil for 8-10 minutes in salty water:

Enjoy!

They’re fast, easy, filling, cheap, and consistently tasty. Much better, though, where the made-from-scratch ones that the family who owns my apartment invited me to share with them.

This is a Polish pancake:

I did not cook it. It’s filled with something white and really tasty. It was given to me by the mother of the family who owns my apartment because she feels bad about the construction happening in the building right next to my room. I feel bad about it too because the workers come in early every morning and are using some sort of industrial adhesive to put down new flooring that makes my lungs hurt.

Other highlights include Crack cookies:

I also seem to have a tendency to buy the wrong things. I was duped in to thinking I was buying frozen pierogis, but I ended up with only puff-balls filled with nothing. They were spongy and pretty bland, but I soldiered through them:

I purchased a strange, sour fruit-ish concoction thinking it was milk. It says “Maslanka wrzensinska” on the bottle, has an expiration date, and was in the dairy section. I don’t think it’s yogurt, but it has the consistency of yogurt, and the taste of bad. I have yet to buy more milk.

I also had to actually ask someone what was butter at the Carrefour. “Przeproszam. Czy mowi pani po angielsku?” (My best Polish phrase meaning, “Excuse me. Do you speak English?”) “Yes, I do,” replied the random girl. “Oh! Great! Hey, sorry, do you know which of these things is butter?” I was in the completely wrong section despite the fact that twenty different tubs in front of me could have easily been some sort of buttery spread. She was quite helpful and lead me to the butter. Humbling.

That’s all for now, kids. I leave you with pictures of the Krakow old guy chess spot (it doesn’t have the intensity of Peruvian Chess Culture, but it’s still good.) and one of the central plaza in Krakow with a cloud that looks like Greenland:

Here’s the Flickr gallery for this post.

How’d I watch and share the election results in Krakow? On the internet. I finally went to sleep when the sun was coming up. Screen looked something like this:

Browser with ton o’ tabs (CNN, Kos, Drudge, Pollster, Slate, email, FB), IM conversations, Skype live video chat with Andrew, Erin & King, Twitter tweets, and streaming MSNBC TV.

He did it. America did it.

I’ll keep this (relatively) brief because this is not a political blog, but from an American world traveler’s perspective, the 2008 presidential election has been more than just a side note as I move from country to country and the results mean more than just a little to me as someone representing America to the rest of the world.

To the folks at home, I know from first-hand experience that the rest of the world is, generally and eloquently speaking, balls-out elated right now.

The world cares. A lot.

Everywhere I’ve been, people asked me about the election. “Have you voted? Who will win? What do you think?” It almost always came up. This goes for Peru, Colombia, Argentina, and Poland — and the people from all sorts of other countries I’ve met while traveling in these countries. (Australia, Germany, Israel, France, Brazil, etc.)

When they ask if I voted, I proudly said that I did — absentee. Then I say that my vote was for Barack Obama.

With the exception of one time*, the mention of Obama’s name immediately cuts the inherent tension in having a political discussion with someone who’s leanings you don’t know. None of them are sure initially if I’m a Bush guy or something, but when they hear that I voted for Obama, they relax and smile, the floodgates open, and the conversation gets interesting and honest.

* I met a Colombian Cab driver who insisted that America was “not ready for a black president” and that America needed a “strong man” to lead it. As an example, he explained that, more or less, everything that George Bush has done after 9/11 has been the right thing to do. I actually bet him $15 that Obama would win. Guess I need to go back to Colombia to collect now.

The world is well informed.

During these conversations, I am continually impressed with the breadth of knowledge people in other countries have about news and politics in the United States. Many of them are probably better informed (and even care more) about our politics than Joe Six-Pack. Cabbies in Colombia, other travelers, bartenders, whoever. They largely know a surprising amount about our politics and they can talk intelligently about it.

The world loves Obama…

… and summarily seems to hate George Bush. According to my unscientific survey, of course.

They seemed at the very least unexcited about John McCain. Reactions towards Palin were probably best summed up by the 50 year-old Scottish car mechanic at the hostel in Krakow, “Oh, shite. She’s a nutter, that one.”

I’m not sure how many times I’ve heard variants of the phrase, “Well everyone in my country hopes you elect Barack Obama.” “We want Obama.” “If I could vote, I’d vote for Obama.”

I’m sure there are exceptions, but other than the war-mongering Colombian cab driver, I have yet to personally meet anyone.

And me?

This means a lot to me.

I have generally been quick to say negative things about America and what our policies represent around the world because I’ve disagreed with what we’ve done on the international stage and who we’ve chosen to lead us. Since I’ve actually cared about politics and the news, I’ve always felt a mistrust, a shiestiness, and general douchebaggyness surrounding the whole affair of America and it’s politics. I’ve been a cynic about a system that I’ve never felt included in.

That may have changed last night at 6:00 in the morning sitting in a small studio apartment in Krakow watching MSNBC streaming video online while I video chatted with friends in their living room.

Sitting on the other side of the Atlantic and for the first time in my life, I actually feel pride in my country. I am proud of what we’ve done and what it means. I am proud that we are showing the world we might not be nincompoops after all. The Little Snowball in Hell that has yet to melt and I are proud of the state of Indiana which looks to go BLUE. (!) I’m not gonna start blaring that one “Proud to Be An American” country song or anything, but at least I know America hasn’t totally lost it’s shit.

(Apparently one of the Scottish med students I met in Arequipa, Peru feels the same way. She just updated her Facebook status to say, “happy Americans-aren’t-so-stupid-after-all day.” See what I mean?)

Even if Obama biffs it or even if one were to argue that the election of Obama was merely a rejection of the Bush administration and not an endorsement of Obama, that’s still enough for me to walk prouder around the world.

Maybe now the next time I’m at a random pub in another country and strike up a conversation with someone, I won’t have to ready my battery of, “But, hey, don’t worry - I’m one of the Good Americans!” explainers when they ask where I’m from.

Finally. I might just have faith in America again.

Thanks, people.

Editor’s Note: And to the McCain supporters and/or Barack cynics: Don’t sweat it. I ain’t judgin’. I still do appreciate a variety of opinions even if I and the rest of the world tend not to agree with them. This is America, after all.

There’s a Flickr set here.

It’s beautiful here in Krakow. It’s not really cold yet, but we’re right in the middle of a gorgeous fall. The leaves are even changing. Nice. I’m writing you from my small studio apartment in central Krakow.

I also left you hanging a bit. What was I excited about in my last entry? Read on.

I’m world-renowned for telling people different variants of the phrase, “It will be okay.”

Such as, “Things will work out,” or “I’ve got faith in you,” or, “Ahh, don’t worry about it, you’ll be fine,” or I’ll quote quote Outkast’s SpottieOttieDopaliscious and say, “Funny how shit work out sometimes, y’dig? One moment you frequent the booty clubs and the next four years you and somebody’s daughter raisin’ y’all own young’n.” Whether it’s relevant to the situation or not — and it never is.

I believe it, too. (Except the part about raising my own young’n anytime soon. I hope.) I have faith that good things will happen. Even when bad things happen, they’re usually transitory and I tend to either learn things from them or laugh at them. Thanks, Mom, for the positive world-view.

So what does this Love Fest of positive energy and thoughts have to do with Poland? It’s what happened. I was in a distinctly average hostel near the city center of Krakow which was in a building where the gestapo used to torture people. Nothing crazy-exceptional had happened until I wandered over to the Wall of Business Cards and I found these:

Cards for a film festival.

Hell yeah! There’s a film and animation festival in Krakow. While I’m here. I’m specifically here to spend some time working on a creative venture or two and what better than an international film festival to pass my time and grab a little inspiration with!

But wait, there’s more. I went to ask the receptionist at the hostel about where I could buy tickets. She said, “Oh, this is cool. I worked it last year, will be going again this year, and have a bunch of friends with films in the festival.” We talked some more and it turns out she’s a film student and producer in a nascent film production company she and a couple friends are starting. Who knew?

Furthermore, I showed her my demo reel and she told me about a potential green-screen shoot in Poland’s capital city of Warsaw which she might be bringing me along to! Awesome. They’re still working out the details of the shoot, so I don’t know if it’s going to happen or not yet, but if it does, I’m totally going. Woot.

So thanks to a spoonful o’ random chance, things took a nice turn in Krakow. Had I not looked at the Wall of Business Cards, I would have had no idea about any of this.

Nice. Thanks, Krakow.

Propaganda Bar in Kazimierz

I have found where I like to go out in Krakow. I spent the first few nights wandering around the beautiful main square in Krakow. It is certainly beautiful: full of incredible architecture, nice restaurants, and nice bars. A bit too nice at times.

Enter Kazimierz. It’s a historic Jewish district in Krakow and has the good-to-Shipley spots to go out to. It seems “hipper,” for whatever that’s worth. Apparently it used to be dangerous to walk around in but is in the process of coming up. It also includes last night’s destination: a bar called “Propaganda.”

Propaganda is chocked full of, well, propaganda. Old Soviet posters, old radios, gas masks, all sorts of bizarre decorations. It’s weird. It’s awesome. It’ll probably be my first destination when I go out. There was even a fight between a couple of drunk Poles with the smelly guy that was sitting next to me at the bar and making out with some girl acting as a sort of moderator. Naturally, the first thing I did was bust out the camera and shoot video:

Half-Assed Bar Fight in Krakow from Nathan Shipley on Vimeo.

All of the patrons were quite nonplussed by the whole thing. The guys got pushed out the door and that was that — I still have no idea what happened. The bartender cleaned up the broken glass and the everyone moved on. I decided on a change of venue and wandered over to another bar where I met a group of girls from England in for the weekend. While far from Polish, they were fun to hang out with.

The Mall.

So, the cheapest place to buy groceries around here is at the Carrefour. Which is in a massive mall. I still don’t like malls, but I did find some enjoyable things:

A women’s clothing store called “Troll.” Hah.

Forever 21 is one-upped by “Forever 18″ … Europe continues to be on the bleeding edge of fashion. I’m sure when the US gets around to having a “Forever 18,” these guys will have already moved on to Forever 16.

Finally, a sign in the “Ecco” store referring to the “Husky Rangers,” which I’m pretty sure is just a promo for some winter clothing line - Google shows no mention of a book or film by the same name. I’m sure they’re referring to the dogs, but I like the idea of slightly overweight park rangers on an adventure. They’re not large, they’re just, you know, “husky.”

Here’s the photo set on Flickr.

I am in Poland. I’ll be moving in to my Krakow apartment on Tuesday. Woot. There are some pretty exciting things to talk about and I’ll have all the juicy details here soon. For now, though:

This afternoon I walked around for 2 hours in central Krakow shooting video with the only video camera I have: my pack-of-cards-sized Canon SD-1100 point-and-shoot camera. Thanks to the newly-acquired laptop, I can actually edit stuff. Started shooting at about 3:00 pm this afternoon, finished editing at a leisurely pace by 11:00 pm.

Fun to make up a simple project and just finish it in a day.

I have had pierogis three times at the pictured pierogi restaurant. They are awesome. The “Buty” store, which I pronounce “Booty” every time I walk past it, sells shoes. And boots.

So, in all of it’s one minute and five seconds of glory, here is what central Krakow is like. Music by Herb Alpert. Thanks, Loxy.

An afternoon walk in Krakow, Poland from Nathan Shipley on Vimeo.

There are some Buenos Aires and New York City pictures in this Flickr set.

Wow. My country. New York City. That’s me in Times Square.

I am typing this on a new Macbook Pro, which is the best laptop I’ve ever used. It’s quite awesome, especially after the 4 months of 7″ screened EeePC. I’m excited about it.

Buenos Aires came and went. I liked the city. It was good and it has a lot of potential for a future visit to Argentina and Brazil; I just need to be in the right mindset. The city was beautiful and had a very European feel to it. (typical BA building above, left) The food was excellent. Met some good people in the hostel. (above, right) Contrary to popular Peruvian beliefs, it seems like the people are friendly — at least based on limited research.

I also got a small taste of what Brazil could be like during a ridiculous conversation with four Brazilian girls one evening at the hostel. They understood a little bit of Spanish, one knew a tiny bit of English, and I knew no Portuguese. We essentially cracked up for an hour or so as I attempted to learn phrases in Portuguese and mangled the words I repeated back to them. Good times. Hopefully this is a bit of what it will be like attempting to speak Polish with the Poles. Not sure, though - Brazilians have been consistently friendly and very outgoing.

It feels good to know that even though I’m not going to Brazil now, it will still be there in the future.

Reflections on the Plane away from South America: I hate “National Treasure: Book of Secrets”

Sitting on the plane, I observed that I am starting to recognize the flight attendants on TACA flights and am definitely regretting not signing up for frequent flier miles with that airline before leaving. I could probably fly back to South America for free had I thought about it.

I have been gone for four months. That is a third of my trip. Potentially more than a third with this expensive laptop purchase. Wow. Sometimes it seems to have flown by when I think about it as a whole, but more so it seems to have lasted forever. If I think back to when I first arrived, it feels like such a long time ago.

The constant change in place makes me feel like I live mini lifetimes in each place I have been. They start fresh, not knowing anyone or anything about where I am, and I leave a little bit more knowledgeable, saying goodbye to friends that I am not likely to ever see again. Sometimes those friends are really good ones with whom I have really good connections - those are the ones that strike me. I think it would have a different feeling if I was constantly moving and not allowing myself time to make connections with people.

The in-flight music programming has several stations, including one playing Latin Pop. They played several songs that I danced to in Bogota with the Tejo Girls, and hearing them made me get rather emotional. Not emotional for the Tejo Girls, specifically, but more for the feelings about the overall experience of South America and the friendships that hearing the music invokes.

Examples, for the bored:

“Sexy Movimiento” by Wisin & Yandel.
I enjoy the drama and scenery. They make their general point with the first shot, though the actual song doesn’t start for a full minute. Dancing music. Reggaeton.

“Estos Celos” by Vicente Fernandez.
Creepy Grandpa with massive sombrero croons for lost love with less-than-half-his-age fountain girl. They even played this one at Platinum Oz. Big props on editing and overall production value.

“Me Gusta” by Silvestre Dangond.
I think I am the only gringo that actually likes this song. This song would instantly prompt everyone in a bar to sing in unison in Colombia. I have yet to understand why Gaby hates it.

“Pose” by Daddy Yankee.
It’s reggaeton. Most respectable and/or over 17 year-old Latinas seem to not like reggaeton for anything other than dancing.

In leaving and knowing I might never see these people and places again, it’s easy to get a bit emotional about the experience, especially when they have been so rich. Things always seem more poignant once they’re going or gone, right? Perhaps I’ve got on rose-colored glasses, but I don’t really think so. I think THIS is exactly why I wanted to go on this trip in the first place. I love Peru and I love Colombia.

I just hope they quit playing National Treasure: Book of Secrets with Nicholas Cage. It has been presented to me four different times in the last month and it is shit.

The Security of The Homeland

I’ve been in New York City for a few days and it feels really good.

I traveled for about 27 hours from Buenos Aires before I finally got to my hostel on Thursday night / Friday early morning. I went to the 5th Avenue Apple Store (pictured right) at 3:30 in the morning and was glad to find out that they had plenty of stock for the Macbook Pro. Thus, I came back the next afternoon and bought the computer and carried it all over Manhattan in a black plastic trash bag while I waited for Dave Carlson to get to his apartment.

Things I have enjoyed about being in America:

• Dave proved that underknee farts through denim are not only possible, but a good idea. See right.
• Greasy spoon breakfast. Those people have no idea how happy they made me.
• Burritos. My god, burritos. Peru does Peruvian food really well, but sucks at Mexican food.
• Jamba Juice.
• Easy conversations with almost anyone.
• I can cross the street with relative immunity from getting hit by cars.
• Speaking Spanish with Mexicans.
• NYC makes for a soft landing. It is not very shocking like Indiana might be — I am surrounded by people from all over the world and hear all sorts of languages spoken. It’s certainly not overly WASPy here.
• Brooklyn in the fall: crisp and beautiful.

Things I have done to prepare for Poland:

The image to the right was seen in Manhattan affixed on the pavement somewhere around 5th Avenue and 40-something Street. Of all things to see before going to Krakow, eh?

• (For concerned Moms) Purchased a hat. $2.99 at Target in Brooklyn.
• Purchased sweatpants - On sale for $3.78 at Target in Brooklyn and in preparation for sitting around the Poland apartment. Score.
• Purchased a pocket Polish dictionary. Mostly useless because I have no idea how to pronounce the words. Should be good for pointing, at least.
• Downloaded some of Pimsleur’s Learn to Speak and Understand Polish. It seems completely daunting and ridiculous and I am unsure how well I will end up speaking or understanding.
• Emailed some people about apartments in Krakow. It seems remotely promising, if a little more expensive than South America. I will not be wiring them money.

I fly out tomorrow evening from Kennedy and arrive in Krakow on Wednesday around noon. Onward, upward, and to the cold, people!

Here’s the BA/NYC Flickr set again.

(Written yesterday, October 14th)

Four months and two days ago, I didn’t leave thinking this trip would turn in to some sort of sabbatical.

I’m writing this while switching back and forth between this window and live update blogs of Apple’s new laptop launch event. I re-joined my favorite After Effects email list this morning and have been reading posts about color correction, alpha channels, and people bitching about why the Keylight chroma keyer is crashing on Vista.

Remember when I said I miss being creative? It persists. I still do. I miss my work. I miss making stuff. I miss the geeky stuff that goes in to all of it. I have for more than the last month. I’m even in a new city (Buenos Aires) and I’m still thinking about making animation and visual effects.

That’s how I know my new plan isn’t some sort of “do two hours of research and then Go to eBay. Go directly to eBay. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200. Find an accordion auction that’s about to end and buy it NOW,” Shipley spur-of-the-moment decision.

Okay. This is the new shit:

I am going to New York City to buy a new Macbook Pro. I will hole up somewhere in an apartment with internet and I will work. I love traveling, and I love my work. I miss my work. Why not combine the two and see what happens?

What will I make? I don’t know right now and I don’t really care. Animation? A visual effects project? It might not even be any good. It doesn’t matter. Maybe something less commercial than what I did at IMS Productions? More artistic? Maybe I’ll find freelance work and do it.

Where will I go?

Poland.

Not only is it my next home, but most importantly, I will be living in a partner state in the War on Terror! Done and done.

At first I thought maybe Latvia or Lithuania. Maybe India or Istanbul. Not South America. I want somewhere relatively cheap and potentially wacky enough to throw some inspiration my way. The cheap part rules out Tokyo, as much as I’d like to be in some sort of Lost in Translation fantasy world of confusion and karaoke bars. Then I was on the Ryan Air website looking for cheap flights. I saw Krakow listed amongst 50 other cities I could fly to for less than 20 Pounds.

Seeing the name Krakow made me remember Max Robbins’ blog and his warm remembrances of Poland. ^{(*excerpt below)} I just went back and read them again. Then I started looking up how much things cost. It seems reasonable. It’s not Peru cheap, but it’s not Europe expensive, either. It’s close to a bunch of things in Europe and Eastern Europe.

It will be cold and I want cold. (he says now…) I want to bundle up when I go outside, feel a blast of cold air, and then come back to a warm apartment at night and drink hot coffee in a dim room with hardwood floors and watch what I made earlier in the day. I want to sit in bars and restaurants where the windows fog up on the inside, then go home, sleep, wake up early, and fire up the laptop and work.

Somewhat serendipitously, this specific idea really took shape yesterday on Monday morning. I started looking at prices for a Macbook Pro. A quick Google search revealed that Apple is releasing the next generation of their notebooks today - and they did and they look predictably awesome. Nice.

Perspective?

After not working for more than five months, and traveling for exactly four months and two days without working, I can now say that I really do love my work. Damn, I didn’t mean for this trip to be a sabbatical, but maybe it is. The trip isn’t over. It’s just changing a little bit.

Will this be a bad call? Should I continue with The Plan, go to Brazil instead, then look for work on a boat to cross the Atlantic like I thought? Maybe. Maybe not. I’ll know when I’m done. Maybe the laptop will get stolen or broken. My trip will be shorter after spending money on a new laptop. Perhaps I’ll offset that cost by working. Who knows. Who cares? I know that I need to do something different, this is what I’ve picked, and I’m excited about it.

Now I’m gonna stop talking about it and start running some numbers in my Google Documents Spreadsheet of Glory that - at this moment - tells me my trip budget is on track and going surprisingly close to what I predicted it to be before leaving. We’ll see what we can do about that.

Newly excited Shipley out.

* Max says about Wroclaw, Poland:

The area I ended up living in is next door to the art university. It has this great area that looks like a Roman garden. Its a collection of huge parks, Japanese gardens, art exhibits and manicured lakes in the Italian fashion with hanging plants adorning the walkways. I would commute nightly after work to the center and spent more than a few nights getting to know the dives of Wroclaw. My often companion from the hostel introduced me to many heavy metal dives and a charming placed known as Heaven which never closes.

The food, the girls, the atmosphere slowly had its effect on me. I have a personality that requires a great deal of stimulation. In Wroclaw it is possible to go out four nights a week. That leaves the weekend free for external fraternization. I have to say I am addicted. On a given evening after I complete the days duties around 10PM I go to a local bar called Manana. … I like the bar tenders who know me and are always willing to swap a story. I like the girls who are eager to dance and flirt. I like the people who are happy to know someone from out of town who speaks a touch of Polish and likes there [sic] city. I like the high quality beer that runs me about US $2. I like that if I get something nice to eat and go out for the evening I will spend $20 and have a great time. I like that I can do it anytime.

He’s got more than this in his blog, especially his “Farewell to Poland” entry, but that should give you a little taste.

Flickr set is here.

Going to Buenos Aires

I hear the sky is falling back home and around the world (see the Dow that closed at 9,258, right). Things seem fine here. Obama is up in the polls. Word. I do miss actually having a decent idea of what’s going on in the news. At least NPR has a website, eh Grandpa Britt? That way we can listen to what “the enemy is up to.”

At this time tomorrow, I’ll be in the air. My flight leaves Lima at 9:30 at night, connecting through Chile with a 5 hour layover, and I don’t arrive in Buenos Aires until 10:30 the next morning. So, you know, that should pretty awesome. Beats a bus, though.

I also realized last night that I know absolutely nothing about Buenos Aires other than what randoms have told me. No guide book, no knowledge, no nothing. I’m just gonna show up and see what it’s like. Cool, eh?

The Audacity of Hope? (Everybody seems to hate Argentina.)

So, Argentina. On the surface, it actually doesn’t sound particularly promising for a gentleman who enjoys the off-color such as myself. Other travelers have told me Buenos Aires is very European-seeming. Not exactly unbiased Gaby says Argentinians are snobs. She says her ex said the same thing. She told me her friends planned to spend a week there and came back after four days. The Road Junky online travel guide to Argentina says this:

Argentines have a reputation for being the biggest snobs on the continent, but maybe that’s only those from Buenos Aires. … Many Argentines hold a condescending view towards Chileans, Brazilians, Bolivians and Colombians – in short everyone else. They consider themselves different than the ‘indios’ even though most Argentines are of mestizo descent.

The people of Buenos Aires, the porteños, have the highest per capita rate of visits to psychiatrists in the world. There is a major inferiority complex hidden underneath their assertion that Argentina is superior to the rest of the world (and equal to Europe). There is also a strong anti-American sentiment, although people can generally let things lie.

Hm. So there’s that. However, as always, I’ve got faith. I’m sure it’ll be good. Let the naysayers say nay, I say. Besides, people say Americans are brash and loud and arrogant. I’m able to find Americans I like. Hell, I even like Indiana - the first state to turn red come election time. Who can argue with the awesomeness of the Naptown Roller Girls?

Peru Anew, at least for a week.

I’ve had a week back here in Peru and have spent time with Gaby. My vision of being in a sweet apartment obviously did not materialize, but the Home Peru hostel came through just like last time. Like this place a lot. They make me breakfast every morning and clean my room for me.

What’d I do? Bunch of stuff. Here’s some pictures:

We went to a submarine:

We saw the World’s Gayest Star Wars Ride at the grocery store:

We went on a couple walks around central Lima. They included a trip to the meat market where we got a 5 minute explainer from the butcher on how pigs are slaughtered. The guy said they are killed initially by stabbing them in the heart with a hand-held knife. Where you at, PETA?

… And a walk through “El Hueco,” which means “The Hole.” It’s a market built in to the would-be foundation of a high rise building that was started and never finished in Central Lima. They’ve turned it in to a mall of sorts. My favorite part where the endless tiny Chinese radios proudly boasting “1200 Watts” in stickers stuck on the speakers.

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… We went to a typical pet store in central Lima. The animals were packed in to cages and piles up on top of each other. Birds, roosters, hamsters, cats, mice, etc. Here’s video:

Peruvian Pet Store in Central Lima from Nathan Shipley on Vimeo.

… We also went to the Peruvian national congress building for a tour:

And, finally, look close at this picture. Do you see that?

Know what that is? That’s the guitar coffin on it’s way up the ramp to the luggage compartment. Best part? It didn’t break. Thanks to the Colombian grocery store that gave me 6 crappy cardboard boxes to use to make a guitar case. Great success!

Here’s the Flickr set for more detail.

See you in Argentina, people.