What Comes Next?

As I sit here on my flight home to the United States cramped in coach seat 50A somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, I can't believe the events of the last 10 days. Even if I was an amazing writer (which I'm not), I could never fully express the feelings and emotions that I've felt during this trip. The connections that I have made with family and friends are mind boggling and I cannot express that in words. Last Thursday Amy and I hopped on a plane to Poland not sure what we could expect. With no expectations or preconceived visions of what might happen, we left ourselves completely open to whatever might come our way during this adventure. I never could have expected to find so many relatives, make so many friends, and find so much information. I can only imagine what might come from this experience in the coming days, months, and years as I correspond with these people and continue to share information and stories. I'm so happy that we took this trip rather than continuing to say "I hope to go to Poland/Lithuania in......" My unsolicited advice, in the words of Nike, "Just Do It!"

This Is It.....

Friday morning was our last day in Lithuania. How could our time here already be at an end? Again, two main things on today's list. The first was an item that I had been looking forward to for weeks. Our guide had located the author of the 2-volume Nemunaitis collection and had arranged for us to meet with him directly. In addition, Thursday night, Albertas had called our guide again and was disappointed that we didn't have much time to spend together during our day in Vabaliai. He offered to show us around Friday afternoon after our meeting with the historian.

Friday morning we were scheduled to meet Sigitas at 11AM. With two hours free in the morning our guide gave us a tour of a few of the highlights of Vilnius. I honestly have to say that of all the days that we were with him, these two hours were his best. He brought us to a lookout spot where we could get a great view of Vilnius and take some pictures. He also gave us a tour of Uzupis, which is a small section of Vilnius that is its own republic and reminded me a lot of the North End of Boston, but with an artsy flair. Lastly, he gave us a tour of the Cathedral in Vilnius and a quick drive by of a few other sites on our way to the restaurant to meet Sigitas.

We spent two hours with Sigitas talking about the history of Vabaliai and more specifically about the history of the Maslauskas family. The amount of knowledge that this man has of this area is just amazing. He began telling me when my family moved to the area, where they potentially came from, and what many of them did in the community. The bombshell that he dropped was that the Maslauskas family actually descended from a noble line. I was thoroughly shocked with this little gem of information. I recorded the entire two hour conversation and I'm so glad that I did. He kept talking and talking and rattling of names of people and names of villages and parishes. I scribbled as fast as I could, but this conversation will have to be listened to over and over to try to get all of the information out of it. He offered to mail me a packet of information about the Maslauskas family and I graciously accepted of course. I hope that he follows through and sends it quickly! In short, I am so thankful that I was able to spend this time with him and just scratch the surface of his knowledge of this area.

After our conversation our guide transferred us to the train station where we met Albertas. We said goodbye to our guide and followed Albertas aimlessly onto a train. Albertas doesn't speak English and we don't speak any Lithuanian so this promised to be an interesting adventure. I'm not sure if something got lost in translation, but we were told by our guide that Albertas was bringing along a younger Maslauskas that would be able to act as translator for us all. Not seeing another person around, we expected this person to meet up with us when we got off the train. However, when we got off the train - no younger Maslauskas. Instead, his wife met us and we all hopped into the car. At this point, we had exchanged no more than perhaps 4 or 5 words. As we rode in the back of a car of two people who we have not known for no more than a couple hours, I couldn't help but think that this was a little sketchy and perhaps the plot of some sort of travel horror story. After spending time with the Maslauskas family the other day, we put all our trust in them. As we weaved in and out of towns and traffic, Amy and I had no idea where they were actually taking us!

Finally, Albertas' wife, Inga, parked the car in a lot. We all got out and began walking along a beautiful lake. As we rounded a corner, Amy and I suddenly knew where they were taking us: Trakai Castle. The location on the edge of the lake looked spectacular. The leaves were changing and the wind was blowing softly. It looked as if we were standing in front of a painting. We somehow made our way to the castle where they bought our entrance tickets and proceeded in. During the entire tour we again didn't say more than a couple words to each other, but did a lot of pointing and gesturing. We made it work. Our outing continued after our tour of the castle when we walked out the exit and the proceeded to walk in the opposite direction of the car. Amy and I exchanged glances, shrugged our shoulders, and again followed along. After we walked for a few minutes, Albertas turned around and said "You like beer?" I said "Yes!" He nodded, turned, and continued walking. With every passing minute this afternoon became more and more interesting. 

We showed up at a small restaurant that served Kibinai. When we sat down, an English speaking waitress explained to us what they were and they sounded delicious. We ordered and tried to pass the time sharing pictures or simple one word comments. (Kinbinai: When wives would pack food for the guards of the castle, they would wrap meat or some sort of filling in a doughy pouch to keep the food warm). Albertas ordered us beer and we all ate Kibinai in relative silence. These things were delicious. They were similar to a "Hot Pocket" only about one thousand times more delicious.

After dinner we made our way to the car. On the walk to the car Amy and wondered if we would be taking the train back or would they drive us. How would they know what hotel we were staying at? We got in the car and Inga drove out of the lot. Albertas asked about the hotel, but Amy and I had not planned on venturing so far away and had expected a person who spoke English. I said "Gryba Namai - Old Town." I'm sure that neither of them knew where this hotel was off the top of their heads. After a few minutes it occurred to me that I had made a purchase at the store next to our hotel that morning. Reaching into my pocket I found the receipt, and sure enough, it had an address on it. I handed it forward, but would this help? They spoke back and forth, but nothing sounded like a confirmation of the location. I couldn't help but laugh at the situation. Arriving back in Vilnius, somehow we ended up driving around Old Town where nothing looked familiar. Inga parked the car and we got out in order to see where we were. Somehow, by luck or incredible talent, she parked us right around the corner from our hotel. I was thoroughly impressed. They walked us to our hotel and we parted with all we knew "Açiu! - Thank You!" Even though we spoke no more than a dozen or so words to each other during the 4 hours, Amy and I had an incredible time and were so thankful that they were willing to leave their comfort zone and go on that adventure with us. Spending our last hours in Lithuania with family: What a perfect ending to such an amazing trip!

Thursday, October 24th (only two more days left)

On Thursday, we had only two items on our to-do list. First we would go to Kalvarija where I suspect one part of Amy's family is from. We would visit the local church and ask around for any leads about the family name: Jeseliunas. Second, we would go into the "Old Town" of Kaunas and meet a friend of mine for lunch. At the end of the day, we would make our way to our final hotel in Vilnius.

As we made our way to Kalvarija, our Lithuanian guide was definitely a character. He would constantly brag about how great Lithuania is and how great Lithuanian people are. This was amusing at first, but by the end of the day, the humor had worn off and it became annoying. Also, he spoke English well, but had a very difficult time comprehending our questions. If we asked a question, we usually got an answer to a different question or he completely changed the subject. If we had to spend more time with him, this would not have worked out. He, and the company that organized the Lithuanian portion of our trip, would not be things that I would recommend again for this purpose.

Anyhow, we arrived in Kalvarija and proceeded to the church: Then Church of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Although we know very little about this part of Amy's family, I was able to find a reference to Kalvarija in an obituary for a relative. I was glad that we could at least visit something relating to Amy's side of the family. If her family did attend this church, it would have looked very similar to the way it looked now. The last time the church was significantly renovated was back around the 1840's. This was well before Amy's ancestors had left Lithuania for the United States. The church was very plain compared to some of the churches and cathedrals that we had seen, but each church has its own charm. Our guide explained that this part of Lithuania was populated by many farmers because of the flat land and fertile soil and that this could be a reason for the simple church perhaps. After visiting the church, we made an attempt to talk to multiple Jeseliunas families in the area. They gave us plenty of information, but because of the lack of information I've been able to find on this side of her family, we were unable to make a connection. We ended up taking copious notes to compare to the clues that I will no doubt find in the future. People were very friendly and were eager to discuss their own family lineages with us.

From Kalvarija we made our way to Kaunas to have lunch with my friend Elena. Elena is an amazing woman who belongs to the same Lithuanian genealogy forum that I belong to. Over the past few years her suggestions, research, and Russian and Lithuanian translations have been invaluable to me and my research in finding my own roots. Without her help, much of the Lithuanian portion of this trip may not have been possible.  If we were going to be this close to her home, I needed to meet her and treat her to lunch. Of course, I probably owe her the equivalent of 10 lunches, but I have to start somewhere.

We met Elena in the square and proceeded to a restaurant that serves authentic Lithuanian food: Berneliu Użeiga. Elena keeps quite busy doing service work, taking care of her grandson while her daughter-in-law undergoes chemo treatments, helping all of us in our genealogy searches, and many other things (sometimes many at the same time). We had wonderful conversations while trying different types of food: including cepelinai again....YUM! One of the items I tried was a "coffee" that translates to "Acorn Drink." Although I can't say that I drank the whole glass, it was tasty. The best way that I can describe it is by stating that it tastes like acorns smell. Perhaps if you think of drinking Hazelnut coffee, but imagine what an acorn would taste like. (Our guide told us that his father had a slightly different recipe and that it came out better his way - UGH!). Of course we also ordered a round of locally brewed Lithuanian beer. Although Amy never drinks beer and claims to not like it, she has had beer more times than I can count in the last few days.

After lunch, our guide and Elena gave us a tour of the city. We strolled down the cobblestone streets gazing at old buildings, castles, and cathedrals. We also made our way down to the Nemunas river and viewed the longest bridge in the world. Of course the reason it is the longest bridge is because at one point, either side of the river used a different calendar system and were approximately 12 days different. Therefore, it was said that once you begin crossing the bridge, you arrive at the other side 12 days later. I suppose if you were traveling in the opposite direction it could also be considered the shortest bridge in the world as well. Elena also came shopping with us and guided us to the appropriately priced gift shops in the city. Even now, when she was "off the clock," she was still helping and providing guidance. Amy thought she was just wonderful and enjoyed spending time with her in the stores and chatting. Overall, it was a simple and relaxing afternoon.

From Kaunas we drove along to Vilnius and checked into our final hotel, Grybo Namai (Grybas House). This hotel has only a few rooms and is tucked in a small courtyard in the center of Old Town Vilnius. An amazing location and an all around great place to stay! The evening was uneventful as usual. Amy and I relaxed in the room, went out for dinner and drinks, and strolled through some of the local stores. Tomorrow would be our last day before our very early flight home on Saturday morning. 

Into Lithuania We Go!

Last night, before we were dropped off at our first Lithuanian hotel by our guide, we had to drive from the border to Alytus. Although he was quirky, our guide was pleasant. I was most excited when, within minutes of getting in the car, he handed me a plastic bag containing two books. These two books were written by a historian who lived in Vabaliai (the village where my Maslauskas ancestors had lived).  Two, 600 page books, specifically written about the Nemunaitis Parish. The only downside - I now had 1,200 pages of information written in Lithuanian. Well, you can't expect everything, right?

Upon check-in, I had briefly flipped through the books. Included in these books were censuses from 1885 and 1913. Just before Christmas each year, the parish priest would visit the families of the parish to count how many people would be in attendance at Christmas masses. Looking through the multiple villages, I found my direct ancestors as well as many brothers, sisters, cousins, etc. I was thoroughly amazed. This book contained history of the parish, families, priests, and all local villages going back to the 1700's! It was only published in 2002, but I couldn't help but think what my great aunt would have given to see the information in these books!

In the morning, Amy and I were able to sleep in a bit. We would not have to meet our guide until 10:30 or 11AM. We were having breakfast and enjoying our coffee at the hotel when he walked in slightly after 10AM. We gathered our things and set out to Vabaliai where I had found ancestors and where our guide had arranged for a meeting with them. I was so excited to be traveling to my ancestors' village, but on the way, I noticed a few things about Lithuania that were strikingly different than Poland. The first being that it is much less developed. Roads were not as "up-to-date" as the roads in Poland. Some of the roads that we were traveling on were simple one lane, dirt roads. Even in the smallest villages in Poland, most of the roads were paved and in much better shape. Second, I could not believe how unpopulated most of the country was. Very few times in Poland were we traveling long distances with out seeing or passing through towns and villages. Here, in Lithuania, we were seeing quite a bit of nothing on the side of the road.

Arriving in Vabaliai and the surrounding villages, we went to a distant cousin's house, Albertas. He and his mother Marita were waiting for us. They were visibly excited to see us and I was just as excited to be there. As we entered their home, the hospitality continued. Set out in front of us was a spread of cookies, homemade jam, chocolates, slices of meats, and other desserts and snacks. We ate a few things and drank coffee (the popularity of instant coffee in these countries is amazing. Perhaps I will send Keurigs as Christmas gifts) while we talked about relatives. After showing them the tree I had created, we were able to quickly connect ourselves to each other. I laughed when his mother wanted to verify a few details and pulled the Nemunaitis Parish books from her bookshelf. Apparently people in this town had read these books as well. We began to show pictures of our family and they began to show us pictures of theirs. How amazing to be sharing food, drink, and stories with the Maslauskas family. As in Kopczany, Albertas had a few things planned for us so outside we went to take pictures and travel along.

First we went to another relatives house, Arvydas. Although his last name was not Maslauskas, he was also related through his Maslauskas grandmother. Again we began talking about family and relatives and again, he went inside and brought out the Nemunaitis books to verify information. Perhaps it wasn't on the New York Times Bestseller list, but these books were widely read in this area. Over the next few hours, we would be taken throughout the Vabaliai area and shown important places relating to the Maslauskas family. There is one house that still remains where some of the Maslauskas family lived, but most were destroyed during Russian rule when farms were consolidated and people were relocated. We saw the place where one Maslauskas was killed during WWII in addition to places where family farms were. We visited the Vabaliai cemetery and also drove around the lake for which Vabaliai was named. Since the village once contained well more than 40 or 50 houses and now contained only 3, we visited a lot of places were things "used to be." Now, most of the area is either wooded or just simply open fields. One thing that I learned form our tour was that almost all, if not all, Maslauskas families from this area are related. I had gone from 30 years in the United States where I only knew of my immediate Maslauskas family to a place where Maslauskas was the common name and almost everyone had one somewhere in their ancestry.

After our tour of Vabaliai, we dropped off Arvydas and proceeded to Nemunaitis - this is where the church my ancestors attended is actually located. In Nemunaitis, we first visited the cemetery behind the church. Albertas' mother, Marita, was able to show us 6 or 8 Maslauskas graves that they knew about. None of the names sounded familiar so I'm sure that any direct ancestors who died in Vabaliai or Nemunaitis are buried in unmarked graves. These people were definitely related, but before my trip, I wouldn't have had enough information to be able to connect them to my family. I guess that only a genealogist gets excited about visiting cemeteries - or traveling halfway across the globe to visit a cemetery. I know, I'm a good time!

Walking from the cemetery to the church gave us a great opportunity to take pictures and chat a bit. Marita told us about growing up in the area and talked about some of the changes that had taken place over the years. As we were taking pictures she disappeared to a nearby house. I assumed she was going to the rectory see if the priest would open the church for us. Sure enough, she returned within a few minutes with a man in knee-high rain boots, dirty pants, and a bulky sweater. Apparently this priest is a little more willing to "do the dirty work" and get things done around the place. It was very refreshing to see this sort of an attitude. He very graciously opened the church for us and allowed us to go inside. He patiently waited as we meandered through the aisles taking pictures and paused to take it all in. As well left, giving a donation for his time, he thanked us for the contribution. Outside, in the sun once again, we roamed the grounds exploring other buildings and stopped to hear the story behind a nearby statute and how it was buried for years to hide it from the Russians. Soon it was time to get back in the car, but we had no idea what Albertas had planned next. Our time in Lithuania was just going with the flow and following people.

I could tell we were heading back towards the village of Vabaliai, but we pulled into the parking lot of what looked like a convenience store. Everyone got out of the car and went inside. Perhaps if we spoke any Lithuanian we would have some idea of what was going on? As we entered the building, we realized that this was the store that Arvydas had told us about. His father built this store by milling his own local wood. (There is a story about why he built the store on this specific plot of land, but I can't put it in writing here). Currently, I believe that Arvydas owns and runs the store. This is why he had to leave us earlier, but was now behind the counter working. We all sat down at small tables and Arvydas served us coffee, tea, and cookies to snack on. Out of the corner of my eye, I also saw him pour small shots of something else. He dispensed the shot glasses of brown stuff (probably some sort of brandy, but I don't know - it was good). We sipped the brandy drink and continued chatting while Arvydas, who is quite the story teller, entertained us. He was very dynamic and even though I wasn't sure what he was saying until I got the translation from our guide, watching him was thoroughly entertaining. At one point, he disappeared again and then reappeared with what looked like an old 1-liter soda bottle. It didn't appear to have anything that looked like soda in it, but contained a clear liquid filled all the way to the top. Laughing, he said something to our guide and then looked at me and said "Moonshine!" I laughed as our guide told us that Arvydas knows only one word in English: Moonshine. Years ago, a man from the United States had stayed in the area and introduced him to the drink. He has been making it ever since. Another glass came out and we tried his brew. It was very good: very sweet and no after taste. Knowing that we hadn't eaten all day and just downed a shot glass worth of something else, I wasn't looking to continue drinking any more of this though.

As it got later in the afternoon, Arvydas and Marita had to leave and we needed to make our way towards Marijampolė as well. We politely thanked everyone for their hospitality, said our goodbyes, and drove off towards our hotel in Marijampolė.

Our evening was uneventful: Checked in to the hotel, grabbed some dinner, and then settled in for another busy day the next morning.  

  

Tuesday and the Race is On!

After a very long drive from Tarnów to Warsaw the night before, we piled back into the car for another 4 hour drive to Lipsk and Kopczany to visit Wojtek and his family. Wojtek and I were put in touch a few years ago by Joe Baxer who visited the family about 20 years prior. Wojtek and I are not related by blood, but share family connections through Antonina Danilczyk, my great-great grandfather's second wife. Joe recently visited them again this past spring. For the last few years, Wojtek and I have been exchanging information on family members over the internet and have been eager to meet each other in person.

We left Warsaw at 9AM and had planned to arrive in Lipsk around noon or 1PM, but we ended up being late due to one highway having traffic due to construction. They would close our lane while they let traffic through from the other direction and then stop them and let us through. This significantly delayed us. Due to this traffic, we were approximately one hour late and did not arrive until about 1:30PM. That evening, we would have to leave for the Lithuanian border by 4PM in order to meet our Lithuanian guide at 5PM (6PM Lithuanian time). Since we ended up leaving around 4:30 for the border, we only had about 3 hours with Wojtek and his wonderful family.

Arriving at Wojtek's house, we were warmly greeted by him and his wife. He politely told us that we were at the wrong house and had parked in his neighbor's driveway. We moved our car one house over. They had a beautiful house and as we entered, we noticed that his wife had already set the table for lunch. We all sat down to eat and chat while she began bringing out plate after plate of food. There were Cepelinai, chicken cutlets, a casserole, fried fish, some sort of cabbage dish, homemade compote from their own fruits, etc. It was such an amazing spread and I felt awful when we barely put a dent in the amount of food on the table. I hope they believe in eating leftovers! She then brought out coffee, tea, and an entire tray of desserts. It made me very thankful that I do not live in Poland. I would be incredibly happy, but also incredibly fat. Everything was just delicious!

Through our guide, we were able to discuss our families, occupations, exchange family stories, and discuss the plans for the day. Wojtek told us that he planned to bring us to the local cemetery where relatives were buried, followed by a visit to his parents' house in Kopczany, show us the Poland/Belarus border (since he is a border guard), and bring us to the Pisanka museum (for which Lipsk is world famous). His wife's aunt and cousin, Barbara, were Pisanka makers and Barbara would be able to give us a guided tour of the museum.

As we finished lunch, we took our dessert into the living room and exchanged information. He had put together a few items for me and I had brought a few items for him. In addition, we all exchanged gifts that we had bought for each other. Lunch and dessert were very short since we needed to quickly move through the planned activities. After taking a quick set of pictures in front of their house with their three children, we got into the car for a visit to the first stop, the cemetery.

The cemetery was very beautiful, as are most cemeteries in Poland. Families take great pride in maintaining the graves of their relatives and this is immediately apparent. Flowers and candles abound while grass is kept short, areas are weeded and raked, and headstones are brushed and cleaned. As I said before, All Souls Day is a very popular day in Poland and the cemeteries were very busy when we visited since families were preparing the graves for this day. After visiting a few graves and taking a few pictures, we got back in the car to proceed to Wojtek's parents' house. 

Arriving at the house, we were again greeted outside by his mother and father. Inside, his mother had prepared a spread of meats, desserts, and juices. The hospitality in this country is amazing; however, just having eaten lunch, very little was eaten. I had a glass of juice and a piece of dessert afraid of offending the family if nothing was touched. I may have to be rolled out of this country after all. This was the house that Wojtek grew up in. Since it seemed to be located in a very remote location, I asked what a child growing up in this area would do for fun. I asked if it was easy to "get in trouble," but that phrase apparently doesn't translate well into Polish since our guide did not know what I was talking about. Wojtek explained that there was plenty to do in the area, but mostly he was required to help around the house. There were animals that needed attention, a garden to maintain, and many other household chores that were required. It seemed that he mostly attended school and worked the farm. As we sat in what I assumed doubled as the bedroom and living room, Wojtek's parents explained how everything needed to be made by hand. The rug that was on the floor was made by the family as were the blankets, clothes, and many other items. Things were not purchased since there was very little money and no stores. Whatever you needed was grown or made at home. His mother took out a pair of socks that she made....from the wool that they sheered from their own sheep. We were all simply amazed that these things were still taking place. In the United States, these are becoming lost trades. People, seemingly in a constant hurry, prefer to visit Target, Wal-Mart, or some other chain store instead. She presented the socks to me as a gift. I wore them that night in the hotel and was surprised how soft and warm they were. Again, this was a quick visit so that we could fit everything in. After some more conversation and pictures it was time to get in the car and head to the Poland/Belarus border. 

The border didn't seem like anything special. It simply appeared at the end of a dirt road. No guards in site, no fence or wires, just a handful of warning signs (which I had to take a picture of and "Google Translate" later). Since Wojtek is a border guard I was curious if they had many issues sharing a border with Belarus. He stated that the largest issue is not people from Belarus sneaking over the border, but people from other countries such as Afghanistan. Everyone had a good chuckle when I pointed out that because of where Amy works, she is not allowed to visit Belarus and could possibly lose her job is she crossed the line. Americans also have a difficult time getting into the country and most websites advise American travelers to stay away. Since we were standing almost directly on this border I also asked what the penalties were if you were found on the other side. Wojtek smiled and said "it depends who finds you." If you are found by the Polish border guard it is a 500 złoty fine. I didn't think that this sounded so bad. He continued, "and if you're found by the border guards from Belarus, you are considered a spy and immediately thrown in jail for a minimum of 30 days with only bread and water." I was surprised. Then he added, "and if you speak English, the conditions are significantly worse." Ok, I thought. No "funny" pictures of me with one foot in Belarus for the photo album. On to the Pisanka museum.

We arrived at the museum a little before 4PM. This was going to have be a very quick visit. Walking inside, we could not believe all the display cases. These eggs were beautiful and we were glad that Barbara was there to give us the tour. She quickly showed us around, explained the process, discussed the different types of Pisanka that are made and also showed us the oldest Pisanka. These were the eggs that were brown in color because they were made before the invention of colored dyes. They used different elements from trees to color the eggs (different shades of brown). Hearing her explanation and seeing the amount of detail in the patterns, I asked how long it took to make one. Perhaps it took an hour or maybe longer, I thought. "About 6 minutes," she said. Well, I was a bit off. Within the museum were also old farm tools, costumes, furniture, etc. Some of these items were hundreds of years old and Barbara quickly pointed things out and ended our tour. If we had more time, she would have showed us how to make Pisanks and we could have made our own. Although I would have loved to try, it's probably better that I did not have the opportunity to embarrass myself and create the ugliest Pisanka ever made!  That will have to wait until next time. 

Outside of the museum, we thanked Barbara for her time and also said goodbye to Wojtek and his family. Although we had to speed through everything, it was the perfect ending to our time in Poland. Nothing can compare to homemade food and spending time with family!

We sped off towards the border with Zenon. Arriving at the border about an hour late, our guide was already waiting for us. We quickly transferred our luggage to his car and said goodbye to Zenon. Although he does this for a living and has helped numerous people find relatives and research their families, he had become family during the last few days. He had shared in all the excitement of finding new people and visiting new places. He had been there when we didn't find what we were looking for, but also when we found so much more than we expected.  Sharing these experiences created a unique bond and both Amy and I were sad to be leaving him. Nothing I could say could  sufficiently express my gratitude for his hard work and dedication. With tears in our eyes, we thanked him over and over and waved goodbye as we drove away.  

On to Lithuania!           

Monday Morning and Glad I'm Not at Work

Our main goal for Monday, October 21st was simply to make a brief stop in Leżajsk in an attempt to break up the 4 hour ride from Tarnów to Warsaw. I had previously found a birth record for a great-great uncle and a few unknown siblings showing they were in fact born in Leżajsk. The records online, where I found this information, begin at 1892 and only contain a few years. Unfortunately, there are additional records online for this location, but I had been unable to find any birth records for siblings born before 1892.  There were probably two reasons for this: The first was that the family could have been located in another village and subsequently moved to Leżajsk around 1892, or the second reason could be that the records online where for a small village near Leżajsk and are mislabeled.

Zenon suggested that we stop not in Leżajsk, but rather in Rzeszów where there is a local archive branch. We could search through the archived records for Leżajsk and see if there was any more information to be gained. Visiting the archive is an entire story by itself and I cannot imagine attempting to research in an archive without being fluent in Polish. Zenon walked us through the application process and helped us request the appropriate microfilms. We loaded the films onto the viewer and began our search. As we arrived at the correct years, we experienced our first failed attempt. These records that we were looking at were the same records that were available online and we would not be able to obtain any new information from them. Because we did not spend more than an hour at the archive, Zenon suggested that we still stop in Leżajsk and visit the parish and town.

Upon our arrival, we started our tour at the church, of course. The outside of the church and the grounds around it were undergoing a major renovation. The church itself seemed very plain and simple and I'm sure that the grounds will be beautiful once these renovations are complete. As we approached the building to go inside, Zenon stated that he thought he was here before. As we took pictures of the inside of the church, Zenon knew he had been here before. He also stated that he had done previous research in this parish and he knew for a fact that they had additional records in the parish office.

Coming back out into the sunlight, there were quite a few people working around the church and the man who appeared to be the foreman was talking to a man in black. No collar; was he the pastor? Zenon and I exchanged glances and apparently my glance said "talk to him anyway!" Zenon was able to find out that he was the pastor of the church and there were records that were kept in the parish office. He advised us that the parish office would be open from 4 to 5PM that afternoon. That was wonderful news except for the fact that we needed to drive a long way to Warsaw and that it was still before 1PM. Zenon looked at me and said "Do we stay?" I nodded.

So for the next 4 hours we plopped ourselves inside a café to check emails and plan the rest of our day. We went shopping in the local stores around the square and made sure to stop at an ATM. We also visited a local monastery where I took a picture of an amazing organ! Unfortunately, I choir loft was locked. Lastly, we sat down in a small restaurant where I tried the local Leżajsk beer. I was surprised that it was so good - even Amy drank a glass. Finally 4PM rolled around.

At 4PM we waited outside the door to the parish office. Although I was hesitant to get my hopes up, I had learned to place my trust in Zenon. If there was anything in that office to find, we would find it with him! The priest who was holding office hours was a few minutes late and a few people were now waiting to see him. As he opened the office, we were first in line, but allowed the woman behind us to go first since she had a brief request. As she exited the office, it was our turn. Silently I thought, here we go again! We all entered the office and Zenon began his explanation - by this point he knew my family history, dates, and what I was looking for better than I did. The priest looked at a sheet of paper listing the dates of the records that are kept in this office. Going over to a small cabinet, he opened the doors and revealed two shelves lined with record books. With a quick glance, I noticed dates into the 1700's. We were first searching for my great-great grandmother, Katarzyna Ozga. Because the records available online were incomplete, I had been unable to confirm her birth date. All I had was 1884. Again, we searched and searched through 1884, 1885, 1886, no luck. We began to go backwards: 1883, no luck. Into 1882, we struck gold again! Katarzyna Ozga born to Jan Ozga and Helena Simko on October 31, 1882. I couldn't believe my eyes. What I expected to be a quick stop in a village that I suspected my family had lived had suddenly turned into an all out search. We began looking through the books searching for more records. After another record or two, however, there was another person waiting outside to see the priest. He politely stated that he needed to see the next person, but if we wanted to wait he would continue helping us search when he was finished. Again Zenon looked at me and asked "Is it worth the wait?" Knowing he had 4 hours of driving in front of him I shyly replied "If it's alright with you." We walked outside to wait.

After about ten minutes, the person left the office and the priest was once again free. The three of us filed back into the office. Record after record we photographed. Frantically searching for anything pertinent, we knew he was only available until 5PM. And then it happened. A few minutes after 5PM he stated that he needed to leave. UGH! He was also not agreeable to leaving us with the records. After giving a donation, he offered to continue searching if I emailed him additional information on what I am looking for. Of course I agreed and will definitely send all of the details I have along to him. Once again, unexpectedly, we had made significant findings regarding my family and their origins. 

Sunday, October 20th

After finding all of that information in the Odrzykoń parish records, I was very eager to return the next day to attend mass and explore the town. We left our hotel in Tarnów just before 9:30AM to begin the one and one half hour drive back to Odrzykón where we would attend the 11AM mass. As we drove through village after village, one of the things that I noticed was that all of the churches had groups of people gathered outside around the exits. Asking Zenon why the people were waiting outside the church, he stated that many people prefer to worship outside the church itself rather than inside the building. Most churches have speakers above the entry doors so that the entire mass can be heard outside. As we drove through town after town, each church had gatherings of people at each door where the speakers were located. Interesting!

We arrived in Odrzykón as mass was begging and quickly went inside. Another thing that I have noticed about many of the churches we have been visiting is that they look very large on the outside, but the actual space on the inside is minimal. Even now, looking at the pictures of St. Catherine and Our Lady of the Rosary church in Odrzykón, I cannot believe how little space we had to worship on the inside. When we walked in, it was standing room only and we found a small spot in the back. Now I understood why so many preferred to worship outside the church. Although church attendance in the large cities in Poland is decreasing similar to the United States, mass attendance in the small villages is apparently alive and well. Mass proceeded as usual and I was able to follow along very well. I even knew many of the responses and recognized many of the prayers from the numerous Polish masses we attended growing up. As I looked around at the number of people, I tried to imagine how long communion might take. There must have been a few hundred people crowded inside the church and I couldn't tell if there were also people standing outside. However, at communion time, I was very surprised. Out of the many people crowded into the church, only about 30 people got up to go to communion. I waited for the rest of the people to begin processing forward, but noticed communion was over. I obviously missed something. Later, I learned that in Poland, people still follow the practice of only going to communion when they have gone to confession. Although mass attendance is high, apparently confession attendance is quite low!

As mass ended, Amy and I took an opportunity to take some photos of the inside of the church. It really was quite beautiful. At first Zenon was also roaming the church taking pictures; however, after a few minutes, we no longer saw him. We finished our picture taking and went outside to look for him. As we exited the church we noticed that he was talking to Fr. Rydzik who was calling to a woman walking away from the church. She came back and began her conversation with Zenon. She appeared to be thinking hard and doing quite a bit of pointing. He was working his magic again. This man will talk to anyone and would fit into my family very well! He finished the conversation and called us to get into the car.

As we buckled in, he explained that the woman he was speaking to knew many of the families of the parish. Last night we had been able to trace a family descended from Maria Danek, my great-great grandfather's (Tomasz) sister, and she knew where this family lived. Time to go knocking on doors again.

Arriving at the house, it did not look like anyone was home. Zenon knocked on the door and no answer. Knocking twice - no answer. Hearing a noise inside, he knocked a third time, and this time, a little louder. An older woman finally answered the door. I heard quite a few "Nie, nie" (no, no)....this was not turning out promising. Zenon motioned for us to get back into the car. Did we strike out I wondered? I asked him what happened and his simple reply was "wrong house!" That made me feel a bit better. Proceeding only one house over, we went through the same routine: a few knocks and then someone answered the door.

We could hear someone unlock the door and then open it only wide enough to peek their head around. Zenon explained our story to the person answering the door. He looked to be about the same age as Amy and I, but did not appear very interested. After a brief conversation, he turned and called to someone in another room. A woman appeared at the door with an apron on. It was apparent that she was in the middle of cooking lunch (their largest meal here in Poland). She also seemed a bit skeptical to our story, but after some more conversation, invited us in. By now, I assumed that these people were mother and son. We were invited into their living room and she and Zenon began throwing names around. I am sure that he was trying to show her the information we had found to see if they were, in fact, related. She didn't appear to be very convinced by our story until Zenon pulled out his notebook and began sketching her own tree back to Maria Danek, her great-grandmother. At that point a big smile came across her face and her son, too, began laughing. I was pretty sure that Zenon had done his magic a second time. The woman disappeared and came back with a stack of pictures and began telling us who everyone was. Similar to my situation, she also had a stack of pictures that looked very old, but she did not know who any of the people were. At this point, Zenon and I ran out to the car to get his portable scanner, my laptop, etc. We would be sharing quite a bit of information.

As we sat back down to begin scanning pictures and sharing information, the woman said something to us....Zenon translated that she was inviting us for lunch. Before we could say anything, her son spoke a few words and then the woman quickly left room. I was puzzled. Then, to my surprise, her son said "I answered for you!" HOLD ON! I was astonished that he spoke English? It just occurred to me that he had been going back and forth in Polish during the conversation, but Zenon needed to translate everything for us. He had been holding out on us until this moment.

From this point forward the conversations flowed freely. As we sat at the table, the woman placed bowls of soup in front of us. It looked delicious. Perhaps it was some sort of chicken soup? Lots of noodles and a whole carrot laying across the bowl. It was delicious! I later learned that the broth and noodles were all homemade. The carrots were probably from their own garden. We all finished our soup and then, more food. She brought out potatoes, chicken cutlets, something that looked and tasted a bit like coleslaw, drinks, desserts, etc. Very randomly and very quickly, she had prepared a feast for us. The hospitality in this country is amazing! Part way through the meal, the door opened and a man walked in. It was the woman's husband returning from the local soccer match that was taking place that morning. I can only imagine his initial reaction when he returns home from the soccer game to find his wife feeding a handful of random people in their living room!

We continued our conversations over a full plate of dessert and coffee. She told us a bit about her family and I shared a few stories about mine. We asked about the local cemetery and she stated that many of the graves were unknown. All she could show us would be her father's grave. Even her father would feel very lonely as other families visited their ancestors graves on All Souls Day since he did not know where his own parents were buried. I thought it would be nice to at least go see and visit the cemetery in general. Chances are that many family members are buried there, but likely in unmarked and reused graves.

That night driving home, I could not believe what we had done that day. I am so glad that we decided to take this trip and could not be happier with the results due to Zenon's hard work and perseverance.