Made in the USA

I have said many times that one of the reasons I am in Poland is to reconnect with my family's culture and my heritage. Coming from Polish parents and being the first one in my family to be born in the United States, I have very strong ties to this country. I grew up eating Polish food and celebrating Polish holidays. Despite this, however, I have always considered myself an American. Of course living abroad in a foreign country has heightened my sense and appreciation of what it is to be an American. Everyday when I'm outside walking around I can't help but feel a little bit like Steve McQueen, John Wayne, Clint Eastwood and Bruce Springsteen all rolled into one. Not so much so because of my (lack of) musical or acting talent, by more so because we all come from the same country. And even more so, because we all share the same characteristic American attitude: that of a "bad-ass".

Two months ago I had a chance to demonstrate just this trait. I was with my rowing team in Berlin for the Rund Um Wannsee Regatta (see October Posts). It was a great race that offered a chance for many international crews to get together and race. Following the race, there was a large outdoor banquet held for the athletes and spectators, complete with food, a stage, live music, drinks and a carnival style hammer challenge. The latter was one of those things you find at carnivals where a challenger is given a large hammer and must strike a lever causing a little weight to shoot up a vertical scale at the top of which is a bell that rings when struck.

So after the race and after some food, everyone starts gathering around the hammer challenge. People start taking turns and there are a few people here and there that ring the bell, but for the most part it seems like a difficult thing to do. My boat mates and I want to have a go at it. While I am waiting my turn, I remark that if they want to make it really challenging they should try to do it one handed. Everyone scoffed at me and said why don't I do it one-handed. I said that it would be no problem. My team mates who were ahead of me in line even gave up their spots in hopes that I would sooner humiliate myself. They said, "Let's see you do it Americano!"

I grabbed the hammer with my right hand, felt its weight, and taking a good swing, struck the lever nice and hard and the weight shot all the way up and rung the bell nice and loud.
That's how we do it in America!