Serenity Now!!!

How many Polaks does it take to get Dolly into the Academy of Music? More than it takes to screw in a lightbulb, I can testify of that. Want to know the answer? It takes 27. Well actually, 3 of those people were American, one an English-Jamaican and the other an English-Pole. And this only for the audition!

The last two and a half days I have been running all over Warsaw and other nearby towns to gather all the proper documents, calling America to have the documents I don't have faxed over via fax machines that all were broken, then have those documents translated by sworn translators, and taken to another office to be looked at by a lady who decided that it was okay for me to study at University in Poland. I also was to 7 or 8 cashiers at the BRE bank to pay my audition fee and two different doctors. It is no small miracle that so many missing pieces came together is such a short amount of time and I credit it all to God who was with me every step of the way. Also thanks to Ania for lending me all of the money she had in her wallet, calling all manner of doctors and translators for me, to Mike for being my body guard and translator, and to Joe Smoczyński for being my fax super hero and offering to pull any and all strings at a moment's notice. It's good to have friends.

Now my audition is a go pending molestation by a Polish nurse. Tuesday morning I went to the laryngologist which, funny enough, is the Polish version of my laryngologist, Dr. Quisling, in the states. He had me open and close my mouth a million times, tapped all over my head with a pitch fork and proclaimed me a decent victim for academic vocal study. With his note, I had to go to the doctor at the Academy, my very last step. So at the Academy, the nurse takes my papers, my passport, and shows me into the doctor, a woman I would say in her mid forties. She asks me a bunch of questions, some of which I didn't understand so she was a little frustrated. For example, she asked me, “do you have any allergies?” I said “yes.” She asked “to what.” I said “to everything.” This did not make her happy. But more or less it really is very true. She wanted to know what exactly. Well, did she want to write a book?!? Come on. “Flowers,” I said. “What kind of flowers?” She asked. “Everything.” I answered. “Everything? Not possible! You are allergic to roses!” “Well no, I guess not.” “Okay then to what?” I am telling you all now, that in none of my Polish books does it offer a lesson on botany. Well, somehow we got through that. I ended up answering yes or no, whatever was simplest. So on my Polish health records I don’t get death migraines, I use my glasses for reading, nothing in my body pains me, and I am only allergic to cats, dogs, and spring flowers. What an improvement!

Next comes the part where I get to take my clothes off. “Please miss, get undressed” and I am looking for the paper towel dress like the last time I had to take my clothes off at the doctors. Well, there is no such thing. Off went my shirt and shoes, sufficient for that moment. I hopped on the scale, got weighed and measured and then was told to lie down. She pulled up my pant legs and quickly looked at my ankles, made some comment about my socks being wet, and then ripped down the straps of my bra to listen to my heart beat. Why this was necessary, I don't know. Maybe she wanted to make sure I had two nipples and two nipples only. At any rate, when I commented about how strange it was, she said “you don't do this in America? Well this is how we do it in Poland.” Good, good! Three deep breaths, a blood pressure check, and 50 zloties later I had the last paper necessary to audition.

Auditions are September 27 at 4 o'clock- the next hurdle in the rat race.