Hey, Lady!

 Where do you think you're going? To France, via Poland. Sometime in August I formulated the plan to get to our house in France with the help of my Polish passport. Daniel applied first for a Polish passport at least three or four years ago. I followed suit. It took an enormous amount of patience, documentation, and a significant  amount of money to receive the Polish passport. Luckily, Poland does not require proficiency in Polish to acquire a passport  or I would have been toast. Have you seen how many consonants are in the average Polish word?   

Armed with my Polish passport and marriage license, we flew to Chicago from Portland.  We pulled down our masks for TSA at PDX but aside from that, all proceeded as usual. Bill and I shared a row with an empty seat between us.  Diagonally across from me sat an adorable toddler.  I watched her in fascination the entire flight. She distracted me from my worry about entry into Poland,  etc etc.  She insisted on showing another passenger behind me her video game, her shoe, her ballet moves. To get this person's attention, she repeatedly cried out, "Hey, lady." Reminded me of what a New York City toddler might say.  Now, I have taken to calling all toddler girls, "hey, ladies". Surprisingly, a lot of "hey, ladies" are traveling at this time. 

Before boarding the plane to Warsaw, I presented my Polish passport and my marriage license to prove Bill is my  legal husband of almost forty years.  I actually took an original copy which looked more official encased in a plastic sleeve.  The Lot Airline agent took a copy of the license and then we were good to go. Whew!!!

Our temperature was taken as we boarded the plane to Warsaw. A comic moment ensued as the agent struggled to take my temperature behind my shield.  Bill and I each enjoyed a row to ourselves. I stretched out and slept.

I repeated the same drill to board our connecting flight to Krakow: Polish passport, marriage license, agent photocopy.  No  Covid testing, no questions, no problem.  The taxi driver reserved in advance greeted us  as we entered Arrivals with a sign bearing my name. I felt a little like crying.  Thanks to my Polish passport, I succeeded in traveling to my father's homeland. I consider the passport a gift from my father without which   a trip to  France during these crazy times could never be imaginable.