Pożegnanie Polska, Część 2: Czerwony
As I write this it is late afternoon on 1 September in Washington State. This date has been on my mind quite a bit of late, as it is the 80th anniversary of the invasion of Poland that began World War II in Europe. In Poland the event is referred to as Wojna obronna 1939 roku (the Defensive War of 1939). It is not "celebrated" as a holiday, of course, but is remembered nonetheless. In 1997 the day was declared as Dzień Weterana (Veterans Day), but it does not rank as a National holiday in the same way as 1 August (Narodowy Dzień Pamięci Powstania Warszawskiego, National Warsaw Uprising Remembrance Day).
I felt fortunate to be able to take Kościuszko out today. In honor of the sad occasion I wore my Polish cycling kit, which actually fit when I was in Poland, but now hangs rather loosely and, I might add, unstylishly on my frame. The weather today, here, was only a bit cooler than on that fateful day in Poland. Quite warm and dry, to be exact. I suspect that as German troops poured across the border, knowing Poles hoped for a rainy deluge that would turn Polish dirt roads into morasses of mud, slowing the German advance. Such was not to be the case... And so it was here: warm and muggy, no rain to slow us down.
Our first stop was the War Memorial Park, a photo-op for Kościuszko. The park is a catch-all for several different kinds of Veteran-related commemorations. For the picture we chose the World War II memorial, for what I hope are obvious reasons. It really isn't much, but the views are actually quite spectacular and it is, after all, the only thing we have.
Dear Readers, I have not forgotten where we left off in my last entry. To wit, I was missing Poland, remorseful over never having seen it in springtime. Likewise, my faithful companion, Kościuszko was still there without me. Finally, I opined about the future of this blog. I never did make it back to Poland. I will never see the Polish spring (rather like never seeing April in Paris, I suppose). On the positive side of the ledger, my wife and good friend Grzegorz managed to disassemble and pack Kościuszko and through some heroic yeoman's work, Kościuszko and I were reunited in May.
We were, you might also recall, discussing the Polish flag and the etymological origins of the colors white and red. We managed to work through the complications of white and left red to this post. Interestingly, the word red is the only color for which there is a definite Indo-European root. That root, just so you know, is *reudh- . Related words in English are legion, and include ruby, ruddy, rouge, rubella, rust and a slew of others. By the way, "slew" is not related to killing and has an interesting etymology of its own, related to an Irish word meaning "crowd".
But I digress. If you are a teacher, know that the word rubric is also related to the root word for red! I'll leave it to you to discern the mysteries of that etymology, but know that I'm really dying to tell you! If you are medically-inclined, the word erythrocyte (a red blood cell), is also related, but this Greek root is a bit disguised to see the connection quickly.
Other, lesser-known words that are derived from *reudh-: rubidium (an element), robust (hard, strong--like an oak tree), roble (a red oak tree, also the Spanish word for oak) and rowan (a mountain ash tree, or, properly speaking, its red berries). The word corroborate is also related, being a combination of com + robare, with robare (to make strong) being related to robust.
Incidentally, after the last post, one of my Dear Readers asked me a good question. To answer it I must talk briefly about the Four Humors. Simply put, the Four Humors was an ancient Greek (perhaps even Egyptian and Mesopotamian, too) medical classification system, also referred to as the Four Temperaments. The four, in case you've never heard of this system are: sanguine, choleric, melancholic, and phlegmatic. We talked about phlegmatic in the last post, as a word related to white. Within the Four Temperament theory the word sanguine, which is related to the latin word sanguins, meaning blood, meant a person who was cheerful, energetic and optimistic. The comment from the reader was: "I've been wondering for years about the connection between sanguine (bloody) and sanguine (optimistic)."
The answer, alas, is not particularly exciting. The four humors represent a system of balanced fluids within the body. If any of the humors predominated, a person was said to be governed by that humor. People were neatly divided into four types. Those who were slow, undemonstrative, calm were phlegmatic. The goal-oriented and ambitious were choleric. The deeply analytical and introspective: melancholic. Finally, those who had "too much blood" were optimistic, cheerful, energetic (and in the oldest of descriptions, ruddy in complexion) and were defined as sanguine. Over time this system obviously fell into disrepute, but the dual meaning of sanguine (bloody) vs. sanguine (optimistic) persists to this day.
Our ride today took us over familiar roads. We headed south by a generally flat route, almost as if to relive riding on the flat Polish flood plain that was featured in all of my adventures last year. Reaching Steilacoom, we stopped for a short rest and another photo. Steilacoom is a small community. Its sole claim to fame is that is was the first incorporated town in what is now Washington State. There are many theories about the origin of the name Steilacoom, none of which are interesting enough to me to talk about today. Steilacoom, though, is a quaint little place and a frequent destination of ours.
I felt fortunate to be able to take Kościuszko out today. In honor of the sad occasion I wore my Polish cycling kit, which actually fit when I was in Poland, but now hangs rather loosely and, I might add, unstylishly on my frame. The weather today, here, was only a bit cooler than on that fateful day in Poland. Quite warm and dry, to be exact. I suspect that as German troops poured across the border, knowing Poles hoped for a rainy deluge that would turn Polish dirt roads into morasses of mud, slowing the German advance. Such was not to be the case... And so it was here: warm and muggy, no rain to slow us down.
Our first stop was the War Memorial Park, a photo-op for Kościuszko. The park is a catch-all for several different kinds of Veteran-related commemorations. For the picture we chose the World War II memorial, for what I hope are obvious reasons. It really isn't much, but the views are actually quite spectacular and it is, after all, the only thing we have.
*****
Dear Readers, I have not forgotten where we left off in my last entry. To wit, I was missing Poland, remorseful over never having seen it in springtime. Likewise, my faithful companion, Kościuszko was still there without me. Finally, I opined about the future of this blog. I never did make it back to Poland. I will never see the Polish spring (rather like never seeing April in Paris, I suppose). On the positive side of the ledger, my wife and good friend Grzegorz managed to disassemble and pack Kościuszko and through some heroic yeoman's work, Kościuszko and I were reunited in May.
We were, you might also recall, discussing the Polish flag and the etymological origins of the colors white and red. We managed to work through the complications of white and left red to this post. Interestingly, the word red is the only color for which there is a definite Indo-European root. That root, just so you know, is *reudh- . Related words in English are legion, and include ruby, ruddy, rouge, rubella, rust and a slew of others. By the way, "slew" is not related to killing and has an interesting etymology of its own, related to an Irish word meaning "crowd".
But I digress. If you are a teacher, know that the word rubric is also related to the root word for red! I'll leave it to you to discern the mysteries of that etymology, but know that I'm really dying to tell you! If you are medically-inclined, the word erythrocyte (a red blood cell), is also related, but this Greek root is a bit disguised to see the connection quickly.
Other, lesser-known words that are derived from *reudh-: rubidium (an element), robust (hard, strong--like an oak tree), roble (a red oak tree, also the Spanish word for oak) and rowan (a mountain ash tree, or, properly speaking, its red berries). The word corroborate is also related, being a combination of com + robare, with robare (to make strong) being related to robust.
Incidentally, after the last post, one of my Dear Readers asked me a good question. To answer it I must talk briefly about the Four Humors. Simply put, the Four Humors was an ancient Greek (perhaps even Egyptian and Mesopotamian, too) medical classification system, also referred to as the Four Temperaments. The four, in case you've never heard of this system are: sanguine, choleric, melancholic, and phlegmatic. We talked about phlegmatic in the last post, as a word related to white. Within the Four Temperament theory the word sanguine, which is related to the latin word sanguins, meaning blood, meant a person who was cheerful, energetic and optimistic. The comment from the reader was: "I've been wondering for years about the connection between sanguine (bloody) and sanguine (optimistic)."
The answer, alas, is not particularly exciting. The four humors represent a system of balanced fluids within the body. If any of the humors predominated, a person was said to be governed by that humor. People were neatly divided into four types. Those who were slow, undemonstrative, calm were phlegmatic. The goal-oriented and ambitious were choleric. The deeply analytical and introspective: melancholic. Finally, those who had "too much blood" were optimistic, cheerful, energetic (and in the oldest of descriptions, ruddy in complexion) and were defined as sanguine. Over time this system obviously fell into disrepute, but the dual meaning of sanguine (bloody) vs. sanguine (optimistic) persists to this day.
*****
Our ride today took us over familiar roads. We headed south by a generally flat route, almost as if to relive riding on the flat Polish flood plain that was featured in all of my adventures last year. Reaching Steilacoom, we stopped for a short rest and another photo. Steilacoom is a small community. Its sole claim to fame is that is was the first incorporated town in what is now Washington State. There are many theories about the origin of the name Steilacoom, none of which are interesting enough to me to talk about today. Steilacoom, though, is a quaint little place and a frequent destination of ours.
*****
Returning briefly to the word red, it bears mention that the Polish word for the color red is czerwony. Even to the linguistically uninitiated, this does not seem to bear any resemblance to our word red. Nor does it, actually. It is a completely different root word. The true Indo-European root, *reudh- does have a Polish reflex: rumiany, which means ruddy. So what of this word czerwony?
 |
| Kermes vermilio. Source. |
The word is actually an adjective, describing the state of being "like a czerw". This linguistic process is called denominal adjectivalization. Use that at the next party you go to. You'll be a great hit!
And just what is czerw? This is the Polish word for grub, maggot or worm! Many of the Slavic languages derive their words for red from this source. Can you guess just how red is like a grub?
The word is related to our English word, kermes, which is an insect that lives in the sap of certain species of oak trees. The insect's scientific classification is Kermes vermilio. You might recognize the word vermilio as related to our word vermilion--which is a crimson red color! As it turns out, if you crush the species you can make a wonderful red dye, as the Greeks and Romans found out centuries ago!
If you're really into the etymology, then you're no doubt asking about my reference to vermilion, which is also a red color. The answer is in the worm! This word comes from the Late Latin word vermiculus, 'little worm'. The Indo-European root is *kwrmi- and actually gives us our word for worm and Polish speakers czerw. Oddly, then, the etymology of the scientific classification of Kermes vermilio could be said to be kwrmi kwrmi. I hope you appreciate that as much as I do and have an equally big smile on your face, as well as devious plans to work that into your next conversation!
As you can see, red may not involve as many roots as white, but is interesting in other ways!
The ride home from Steilacoom was uneventful. We spent the time chatting about this or that, socializing rather than riding hard and fast. During the quiet moments my mind would drift back to Poland, and what I missed about the place. There was so much more to see; so many places to ride! During idle time when I was in Poland I had made a short list of "destinations" to explore with Kościuszko. It is sad that I won't see them, but that doesn't mean you can't go. Some of them are obvious destinations, but at the surface, others of these places may not seem to be important or have anything to offer, but that is why they are so attractive. They have hidden gems (cultural, historical or otherwise) that intrigue me!
Here is the short list: Piaseczno, Las Kabacki, Józefosław, Lesznowola, Baniocha, Szymanów, Chylice, and Chyliczki. If you have spent a lot of time in the environs of Warsaw, then your homework is to make sure you know why each of these places is important culturally, historically or otherwise.
Of course, our exploration of the right bank (the east side) of the Vistula (Wisła) remains completely unaccomplished, as well. Although Kościuszko and I crossed the Wisła--we had to do at least that--we never explored what the right bank had to share. Two obvious destinations were to be Józefów and Otwock. The latter had many architectural, scientific and historical attractions that made it a logical destination for my cycling.
Otwock sports the majority of remaining Świdermajer villas, a unique fairy-tale-esque style of architecture used in the construction of the summer get-away homes of Varsovians. They are quickly disappearing, you'd better see them soon. Fortunately, most are cataloged online if you'd like to see pictures.
If you're not into architecture, then visit the Maria and Ewa Nuclear Reactors, appropriately named after Marie Curie (1867-1934) and her daughter, Ève (1904-2007). Marie, in case you didn't know, was Polish, born Maria Salomea Skłodowska in Warsaw. Were Poland ever to have a third reactor, I should hope that it would be named the Irène reactor (for Marie's other daughter). The Ewa reactor is now decommissioned and the site being considered for the storage of nuclear waste from Reaktor Maria. Maria is a pool-type reactor and is used primarily in research and the production of radioisotopes. It is a unique reactor in that it is of Polish design. Ewa, on the other hand, was a soviet-designed Light Water Reactor (LWR).
If you're not into the nuclear option, and architecture is not your thing, then head for the home of Irena Stanisława Sendlerowa (née Krzyżanowska, 1910-2008). Irena was an activist before World War II, but became famous during the War for organizing an "underground railway" for smuggling Jewish children out of the ghetto and to safety. Irena's nom de guerre in the Polish underground was "Jolanta". How she came by this name, I do not know. There was an historical figure, Blessed Jolanta of Poland (1235-1298) who was known for her great service to the poor and powerless. I assume (however incorrectly) that this is the source of the nom de guerre. If this is not the reason for this nickname, then we can leave it as a mystery. Of course, for the linguists among you, Jolanta is the Slavic equivalent of Yolanda, both derived from the Greek ιοληανθος, meaning 'violet flower'. Irena continued her activism after the War, and in 1965 she was recognized as one of Poland's Righteous among the Nations for her wartime efforts.
If you're in Otwock, don't forget about the orphan girl Krystyna Dańko (1917- ), recognized as one of Poland's Righteous among the Nations in 1968. Krystyna was responsible for harboring Jews and helping them to escape extermination. I affectionately call her the Orphan of Otwock (the alliteration is pleasing and helps me to remember her). Krystyna turned 100 in July 2017 and is, as far as I know, still alive!
Although Krystyna was successful in her own personal efforts, the Otwock Ghetto was liquidated in 1942 and 8000 Jews sent to the Treblinka death camp. A massacre of the remaining 5000 Jews occurred there (in Otwock) on Reymonta Street, also a site worth visiting.
It is inspiring to learn about people who genuinely believe in helping others and do so as a moral imperative, regardless of the potential consequences to themselves. It restores my faith in humanity. You can see pictures of Marie, Ève, Irena and Krystyna to the left.
No East Bank excursion would be complete without a visit to the Praga district of Warsaw, and all it has to offer! Even the name just begs of a visit. "Where did you ride this weekend?" "Praga." "Isn't the Czech Republic too far to cycle to from Warsaw?" "Yes, but I went to Praga." Suffice it to say that Praga is worth a post of its own, but sadly I won't be the one writing about it anytime soon.
Kościuszko and I rode down the steep hill leading to our house, flying effortlessly like birds for one last time today. We coasted easily into the drive and my mind wandered and wondered what life was really like on September 1, 1939. How horrible it must have been! What a tragedy...and it was only the beginning. Perhaps those unfortunates who perished on that day were, after all, the lucky ones--not knowing the volumes of suffering that were to come...because honestly, Dear Readers, I am hard-pressed to fathom the magnitude. I simply cannot wrap my mortal mind around the cosmic scale of the cataclysm that unfolded on that fateful day.
I started this blog a year ago in July 2018 with the words: "Those who know me well tend to think of me as an historian." I hope that in this year-long journey with me you not only have come to know me better in that regard, but that you have come to appreciate history, culture, linguistics and the many other topics I have touched upon a little bit better. I likewise hope that you know Poland a little better, too.
General George S. Patton once wrote in his best known poem:
"So as through a glass and darkly, the age long strife I see, where I fought in many guises, many names, but always me."
While I cannot speak to the truth of reincarnation in which the good General so ardently believed, I can say that you can't hear, feel, smell or see history in books--you have to get to know it in person. Patton at least understood this. While one may have an intellectual understanding of an event, you need to meet it face-to-face, however that is possible, in order to know it. By being in Poland and being confronted with the Vistula River, by walking (cycling) in those places, by talking to people who experienced those things, by reflecting on those times, by using all of my senses to be in the present moment, I was invariably transported to the past and, like Patton, whatever I saw was always me.
And so now we have come to the end of this particular journey. Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, walk in peace and when you have the opportunity ride! Ride on, Dear Readers, ride on!
And just what is czerw? This is the Polish word for grub, maggot or worm! Many of the Slavic languages derive their words for red from this source. Can you guess just how red is like a grub?
The word is related to our English word, kermes, which is an insect that lives in the sap of certain species of oak trees. The insect's scientific classification is Kermes vermilio. You might recognize the word vermilio as related to our word vermilion--which is a crimson red color! As it turns out, if you crush the species you can make a wonderful red dye, as the Greeks and Romans found out centuries ago!
If you're really into the etymology, then you're no doubt asking about my reference to vermilion, which is also a red color. The answer is in the worm! This word comes from the Late Latin word vermiculus, 'little worm'. The Indo-European root is *kwrmi- and actually gives us our word for worm and Polish speakers czerw. Oddly, then, the etymology of the scientific classification of Kermes vermilio could be said to be kwrmi kwrmi. I hope you appreciate that as much as I do and have an equally big smile on your face, as well as devious plans to work that into your next conversation!
As you can see, red may not involve as many roots as white, but is interesting in other ways!
*****
The ride home from Steilacoom was uneventful. We spent the time chatting about this or that, socializing rather than riding hard and fast. During the quiet moments my mind would drift back to Poland, and what I missed about the place. There was so much more to see; so many places to ride! During idle time when I was in Poland I had made a short list of "destinations" to explore with Kościuszko. It is sad that I won't see them, but that doesn't mean you can't go. Some of them are obvious destinations, but at the surface, others of these places may not seem to be important or have anything to offer, but that is why they are so attractive. They have hidden gems (cultural, historical or otherwise) that intrigue me!
Here is the short list: Piaseczno, Las Kabacki, Józefosław, Lesznowola, Baniocha, Szymanów, Chylice, and Chyliczki. If you have spent a lot of time in the environs of Warsaw, then your homework is to make sure you know why each of these places is important culturally, historically or otherwise.
Of course, our exploration of the right bank (the east side) of the Vistula (Wisła) remains completely unaccomplished, as well. Although Kościuszko and I crossed the Wisła--we had to do at least that--we never explored what the right bank had to share. Two obvious destinations were to be Józefów and Otwock. The latter had many architectural, scientific and historical attractions that made it a logical destination for my cycling.
Otwock sports the majority of remaining Świdermajer villas, a unique fairy-tale-esque style of architecture used in the construction of the summer get-away homes of Varsovians. They are quickly disappearing, you'd better see them soon. Fortunately, most are cataloged online if you'd like to see pictures.
 |
If you're not into the nuclear option, and architecture is not your thing, then head for the home of Irena Stanisława Sendlerowa (née Krzyżanowska, 1910-2008). Irena was an activist before World War II, but became famous during the War for organizing an "underground railway" for smuggling Jewish children out of the ghetto and to safety. Irena's nom de guerre in the Polish underground was "Jolanta". How she came by this name, I do not know. There was an historical figure, Blessed Jolanta of Poland (1235-1298) who was known for her great service to the poor and powerless. I assume (however incorrectly) that this is the source of the nom de guerre. If this is not the reason for this nickname, then we can leave it as a mystery. Of course, for the linguists among you, Jolanta is the Slavic equivalent of Yolanda, both derived from the Greek ιοληανθος, meaning 'violet flower'. Irena continued her activism after the War, and in 1965 she was recognized as one of Poland's Righteous among the Nations for her wartime efforts.
If you're in Otwock, don't forget about the orphan girl Krystyna Dańko (1917- ), recognized as one of Poland's Righteous among the Nations in 1968. Krystyna was responsible for harboring Jews and helping them to escape extermination. I affectionately call her the Orphan of Otwock (the alliteration is pleasing and helps me to remember her). Krystyna turned 100 in July 2017 and is, as far as I know, still alive!
Although Krystyna was successful in her own personal efforts, the Otwock Ghetto was liquidated in 1942 and 8000 Jews sent to the Treblinka death camp. A massacre of the remaining 5000 Jews occurred there (in Otwock) on Reymonta Street, also a site worth visiting.
It is inspiring to learn about people who genuinely believe in helping others and do so as a moral imperative, regardless of the potential consequences to themselves. It restores my faith in humanity. You can see pictures of Marie, Ève, Irena and Krystyna to the left.
No East Bank excursion would be complete without a visit to the Praga district of Warsaw, and all it has to offer! Even the name just begs of a visit. "Where did you ride this weekend?" "Praga." "Isn't the Czech Republic too far to cycle to from Warsaw?" "Yes, but I went to Praga." Suffice it to say that Praga is worth a post of its own, but sadly I won't be the one writing about it anytime soon.
*****
Kościuszko and I rode down the steep hill leading to our house, flying effortlessly like birds for one last time today. We coasted easily into the drive and my mind wandered and wondered what life was really like on September 1, 1939. How horrible it must have been! What a tragedy...and it was only the beginning. Perhaps those unfortunates who perished on that day were, after all, the lucky ones--not knowing the volumes of suffering that were to come...because honestly, Dear Readers, I am hard-pressed to fathom the magnitude. I simply cannot wrap my mortal mind around the cosmic scale of the cataclysm that unfolded on that fateful day.
I started this blog a year ago in July 2018 with the words: "Those who know me well tend to think of me as an historian." I hope that in this year-long journey with me you not only have come to know me better in that regard, but that you have come to appreciate history, culture, linguistics and the many other topics I have touched upon a little bit better. I likewise hope that you know Poland a little better, too.
General George S. Patton once wrote in his best known poem:
"So as through a glass and darkly, the age long strife I see, where I fought in many guises, many names, but always me."
While I cannot speak to the truth of reincarnation in which the good General so ardently believed, I can say that you can't hear, feel, smell or see history in books--you have to get to know it in person. Patton at least understood this. While one may have an intellectual understanding of an event, you need to meet it face-to-face, however that is possible, in order to know it. By being in Poland and being confronted with the Vistula River, by walking (cycling) in those places, by talking to people who experienced those things, by reflecting on those times, by using all of my senses to be in the present moment, I was invariably transported to the past and, like Patton, whatever I saw was always me.
*****
And so now we have come to the end of this particular journey. Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, walk in peace and when you have the opportunity ride! Ride on, Dear Readers, ride on!
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