Krosno, Poland — Part One

Most people who write blogs write at the end of the day. They write about the day that has just finished and their images are current.

We have had days without access to internet in Poland while we stayed with family. So, although we are now in the Ukraine, I'm still publishing about Poland. Some of the following text I wrote while in our cousins' home in Krosno, and will cut and paste it below.

I write this for my cousins, for all of you in the Bienia Family Tree — in California, in Illinois, in Ohio, in Kentucky, in New York, in Maryland, in Paris, in Lyon, in Mięzyborów, in Katowice, in Krosno. 

Krosno, Poland — Sept 29, 2013

My maternal grandmother, Maria Bienia — Zach’s great-grandmother — was born in Krosno, Poland, in 1876. Grandma, her two brothers and her four sisters grew up in a house that no longer exists. I am writing now on the very spot where that old wooden house used to stand, in a new house — let’s call it House #3.

Zach, Władysław Wożniak, Jadwiga Habrat Wożniak, and Wiesiek Habrat, in front of House #3.
These were our generous hosts on this visit to Krosno. 

When I first came here in 1967, on my way home from Nigeria, the first wooden house still stood on this spot but was being used as a barn. My grandmother’s niece, Genowefa Moskal Habrat, and her three children lived in another house that had been built next to the old — let’s call that House #2.  That second house still stands today. 

This is House #2, as seen from ul. Kopalniana. Note raspberry bushes along fence!
Our cousin, Wiesiek — my grandmother’s grand-nephew — still lives in this house.
He’s now age 73. Wiesiek has lived here all his life.

Here's the front of the house. When I first came here in 1967, late at night, this was the door that opened for me.
These are the steps on which I sat with our cousins that year, peeling mushrooms found in the potato fields.

When I was a child, my grandmother told me about how she washed clothes in a stream that ran alongside the house. The stream is still here.

Ślączka stream

When I visited in 1967, the family had no running water in the house.  This used to be the only source.

Grandma spoke of milking the family cow, of walking it up a hill to the pasture. That hill is still here, of course, although the view of the hill is now blocked by a bunch of trees. The family had a cow when I visited in 1967, and still had it when I returned in 1972.  Our cousins down the street, Leonarda Moskal Zajdel and her son, Jan, still had a cow when we visited in 1995. Alas, none of the families around here still milk their own cow. The horses that pulled the plows are gone. The cows are gone. People here now buy milk in the store. Is this progress? It certainly makes life easier...

Some time before Grandma left for America in 1905, an oil well was dug on this land. When Zach and I were here in 1995, the rig was still chugging away, albeit rather slowly. Ten-year-old Zach swung on it then and got his hands totally greased. 

Today, this well pumps even slower, and only two hours a day, from 5 to 7 pm. 
When it’s not pumping, it gurgles.

Several yards away, there used to be another well, the first in this area. This plaque marks well No. 1, 1888 to 1948.

A few feet away, Jadwiga has her garden. Everything's been brought in now except some carrots and her lovely squash.

We took a stroll down to the Wisłoka River, a tributary of the Wisłok.

Wiesiek says when he was a kid, he swam here. Our grandparents must have swum here, too. 

We snuck through a fence onto this swinging bridge. It sways when anyone walks on it.

The bridge was built to give access to the oil wells. The wells are powered by a motor which moves a horizontal wheel.

Can you hear the constant rhythmic screeching of the wheel?

This place — this Wisłoka river, the little stream, the fields, the water well — this place was home not only to my grandmother, Maria. Her sisters Wiktoria and Aniela, Agnieszka and Anna grew up on this land, too. Her brothers, Jan and Franciszek, also called this place home. It feels like sacred ground to me; perhaps that’s because of the distance in space and time. Nostalgia? I wonder if the people who live here now feel such reverence toward this land. Perhaps my emotions stem from Grandma's assumption, when she left in 1905, that she’d come back in a couple of years. She never did, never could, and her stories conveyed a sense of longing and sadness. I’ve felt almost a responsibility to come here, four times now, to come to this place that Grandma longed for. To see it for her.

We piled into Władyław’s car and drove into town. (On my first two visits here, in 1967 and 1972, we walked into town. No one had a car then. When Zach and I were here in 1995, Władysław already had a car.) On this Sunday afternoon, we were delighted to find a squash and pumpkin festival going on in the main square!

Ha ha! Do these Grannies sometimes rage? Do they sing? They sure do have fun!

We checked out a couple of churches near the main square in Krosno. One was built in the 14th century. Here are a couple of little details that I especially liked:

Another, the Franciscan church, was built in 1657. 

Bell tower at the Franciscan church.

Stanisław Janik, brother of our great-grandmother, Zofia Janik, created wood carvings for several churches.  Here is some of Janik's work, still in the Franciscan church in Krosno:

I'll save our second day in Krosno for another blog post. Time now to get some dinner!