The day after the wedding, K's folks held a BBQ at the house, where a small but lively crowd showed up for sausages, glabki (which D and I helped make), cake and vodka, natch. I wasn't feeling too bad physically, though I was still embarassed about my earlier escapades, though that didn't keep me from sampling the Zubrowka. Everyone assured me that it was fine, so I just let the whole thing drop. That evening we (J, K, K's parents and grandmother, J's mom, D, C and myself) head off to Uniejow, which I mentioned earlier. We had a quick late dinner and settled in for the night.
The next morning after breakfast we toured the castle and grounds, including the town across the river. It was a beautiful sunny day, and the plan later was to head to Lodz, which at one time was the primary textile center for Europe. We were scooting back home, conversation ranging from the scenery to Polish driving habits when one of us spied a gas station named "Manhatan", which we thought kind of funny, a bit of America here in the middle of Poland. Suddenly I heard a commotion up front; coupled with a jerk left, then right, of the van, I realized quickly that something was wrong. I look to the front (D, C and I were in the very back of the minivan) and saw a little Fiat stopped in the road, presumably to turn left into the Manhatan. It was apparent that we couldn't go around, due to the lack of shoulder, and also that we weren't going to stop in time, given the speed and the fact that this van was carrying 9 people at the time. We dive under hard braking, and I hear the tires squeal as I brace myself against the seat in front of me. I would like to say that I had some profound insight into life's mysteries at that moment, but all I had time for was "Oh shit, we're gonna..."
BAM! We hit the Fiat's back right corner, sending it spinning counterclockwise, towards the culvert that went under the gas station's driveway. That it did not end up in the ditch is a miracle, but I think it did catch the driveway curb, which caused the car to barrel roll once, landing upright. Now the Fiat is almost facing us directly, and I remember looking through the opening where the windshield used to be, into the eyes of the Fiat's occupants, which were wide open in shock at what just happened. A few seconds of complete silence passed (though to me it felt like minutes) as everyone seemed to do a mental inventory of their physical selves. Am I still alive? Ok, good. What's next?
Suddenly the quiet broke into angry Polish, and people poured from their vehicles, gathering into a group in front of the battered Fiat. All except for D, C and myself, still sitting in the back of the van, wondering what else could happen. I heard "Uh, Fred, let's get the fuck outta here," realizing then that we're sitting ducks if we stay in the van, which had basically traded places with the Fiat. Safely on the side of the road, I saw the Poles were still engaged in a tense exchange with each other. We Americans removed ourselves to a shady spot far from the action to begin the decompression process. K's mom received a bump on the leg, and it looked like the driver of the Fiat banged his arm a little bit, but otherwise everyone was fine physically. My next thought was to grab the camera and snap a few pictures, but I thought better of it, it just seemed wrong at the time.
We were now killing time, waiting for the police to show up. A few locals gathered to survey the scene. D and I grabbed some Cokes (sweet-in glass bottles!). The police arrived about an hour later, administering breathalyzer tests to both drivers (both coming up .00); after a quick check of the van, we were back on our way. I have to admit, during the ride back my ass was puckered up tighter than a sheep's during WSU frat rush week, each bump and shimmy adding to my already nervous state. We finally pulled into the driveway at home, my main thought being "I could really use a nap right now." The plan to go to Lodz that day was shelved, since we got back a little late and J and K had to take J's mom to Warsaw so she could head back to the states. Instead K's sister, Kasia, took D, C and me to Lask to wander around. But that's another story.
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