The blog of Karol Moroz

197. On Chickpeas, Weddings and Objects of Sighs

Poznań, 2016-05-26 00:07:40 +0200

For a Polish university student, May is probably the least productive month in the whole year. All the time there is something cool going on, like the Adam Mickiewicz University’s Great BBQ Party, Poznań University of Technology’s Polibuda Open Air festival, or Juwenalia, the traditional Polish festival for university students that is in fact hundreds of years old.

This year I don’t give a damn about all of it. I’ve wasted so much time in China partying my ass off that now, for once, I want to do something meaningful. It’s the Feast of Corpus Christi tomorrow (actually, today,) which is a national holiday in Poland. Most Poles are either going home or someplace fun to party their asses off. The past few days have been pretty hot (and considering that Poland is in the temperate climate zone, it’s really an understatement,) so I thought it might be a good idea to go home to Koszalin and sincerely devote a few days’ time to finishing my Bachelor thesis. Therefore I called my mother. “Yo, I’m going home for the weekend,” I said. “That’s cool,” replied my mother. “Hovewer, I won’t be home until Friday and my friend is crashing in Maciek’s room.” “Well, I guess that’s not a problem.”

Then I realized I was planning to cook some chickpeas and that they were soaking in the big pot in the fridge. “Oh, wait,” I said. “I just realized a pack of chickpeas is soaking in the big pot in my fridge. I will have to do something about them, otherwise they will spoil.” I heard my mother’s long sigh. “Can you please tell me why you have to call me right when I’m going through a hell in the middle of my workday, only to tell me that… you have some chickpeas soaking in the fridge?”

There is a girl I call The Object of Sighs. It is a literal translation of the Polish expression obiekt westchnień, i.e., a crush. I’ve never talked to her, I’ve only seen her a few times in the corridor at the university. She has curly blond hair and there is something about her that makes her look like she’s cried. More than two weeks ago, I was leaving the university building in the afternoon when I saw her sitting on a bench in front of the entrance. She was eating a sandwich while talking to some friends I had not seen before. When I passed her, our eyes met. I stared at her intently for a few seconds, then she went back to eating. That was the only contact I’ve ever had with her, and yet I can’t really get her out of my mind. This is so stupid.