Latvia and Warsaw

I almost squeaked with joy about a week ago when I heard about a potential work trip to Latvia (a country I hadn't been to yet) and Warsaw (the city from which my last name was derived many hundreds of years ago ... and which I also hadn't been to yet).

I went with a bevy of high-ranking, heavy-drinking military officers of various ages, races, and services, including an admiral and a general. Here's our ragtag crew in Warsaw, during a walking tour of the old town.

Riga, Latvia - We just spent the night here, as the actual purpose of the trip was in a small community about two hours north. But the town was really quaint and old and ... apparently ... vibrant with a wild nightlife filled with stag parties, college-aged youth, and the boom-boom beats of industrial dance music. Our crew just went out to dinner and didn't feel like dancing. I think we would have looked like the Village People.

Warsaw - I wasn't expecting much, after having heard that the city was completely destroyed during WWII, so I was pleasantly surprised to see a charming old town with winding, cobbled streets and lots of lody (ice cream) shops. I was unpleasantly reminded, though, of the alarmingly high rate of male shirtlessness seen throughout Poland, something we discovered during our first summer sojourn into Poland in 2007.

The above picture is of the Palace of Culture and Science, the tallest building in Poland and a constant reminder of the Soviet occupation. The Poles are apparently divided on their appreciation of it. The below picture is of the narrowest building in Warsaw, Poland, or the world. It's in the corner, between the other buildings. This isn't a good shot. Here's a better one.

And here are the shirtless fellows, who were about a dime a dozen. I tried to be discrete about snapping photos, hence the fuzziness and bad angles.

And finally, an apparent tradition in Polish households is to have a small picture or doll of an old Jewish man bearing money. This is to bring good financial luck into the home. At first I thought I should be insulted. Then I thought, well, everyone here does this. So it's normal. Then I thought, but wait, that doesn't make it acceptable. But then I thought, well, they're not being insulting, they're actually admiring the Jews, regardless of whether it's bigoted. Either way, I needed to bring a reminder of this trip back home ... and what better way that purchasing a mildly offensive and yet somehow respectful trinket that can so very easily summarize a place's past. We now have one in our apartment.