Easter and Blessing of the Eggs

Jeff Taylor. Fot. Sławomir Ostrowski

What’s better in the morning…

What’s dumber in the morning…

What’s dumber than…

What’s a bigger waste of time than reading this crap?

If you have decided to stick around and continue reading I am touched and will make this entry the biggest Easter basket of crap eggs ever.

Easter Sunday. I walked into church today and the first thing I thought was, „Does this place have Wifi?”

Unfortunately it didn’t.

As Easter approaches, I discuss/kill time talking with students about Easter. After twenty years of the question „What are the traditional dishes for Easter in Poland/What bland dishes do you mindlessly slave-like eat every year”, I often ask „What dish would you most like to eat for Easter this year?” and unsurprisingly students most often answer „pizza”, second place „bacon.”

During lessons I’m unable to really delve into the topic of Easter as I would like. I can’t risk losing my job because a bunch of momma’s boy losers cry to their mommies that I discussed this special day in way that they are not used to.

So for this blog entry I present my cool reader(s) a Streffa Jeffa Easter.

Let’s start off with the wintery weather we’re receiving just in time for Easter. Snow’s falling, Polish sleigh rides/kuligi (which are fucking dangerous. Traditional fun for the whole family. A horse-drawn sleigh, tractor, car, quad or motorcycle pulls a line of sleds tied together as children ride along/hold on for dear life laughing/screaming in terror and pain. The driver is unaware/drunk that a child’s leg gets run over by a sled or falls off and is dragged over frozen snow through the forest. The child’s cries are drowned out by the other children’s teasing and joyful malicious laughing and the tractor’s engine. A winter murder-land.) and building snowmen. To celebrate Easter, children could build a a snowman crucified to a cross. Carrots would be used instead of nails to be hammered into the snow hands. In place of blood, ketchup would portray wounds. If it were really cold as it was two years, the Easter Mass could be held outside in the snow. Since churches are freezing cold this time of the year, there wouldn’t be a big difference in the temperature. Behind the priest, there would be a huge snowman on the cross. The more lowly priests and nuns who weren’t chosen to lead the children’s choir would stand guard around the snowman to prevent any dogs from peeing on it.

The next important event in a Streffa Jeffa Easter is the Blessing of the Eggs. I’ve stopped mentioning this ceremony during lessons as the name always makes me laugh. If you weren’t aware of this kiddy-favourite tradition you would think it dealt with a certain uncomfortable situation that has brought the Catholic Church a lot of bad publicity lately. „Sir, it was nothing inappropriate. Little Jackie was blessing it.”

I attended the egg-blessing ceremony once. Hard-core Cathys (Catholics) arrive early to find the best place on the altar for their Easter Picnic Basket (some sausage, egg, salt, bread, cake). I’m getting hungry thinking about it. Do some kids just eat that food right away? „The hell with this. I’m hungry now!” If I had grown up in Poland, my mom would never have let me go alone on Saturday. There would never have been any blessed food left for the Sunday breakfast. Of course, what’s the big deal?

Anyway, people get there early to put their picnic basket in the most visible place. People don’t have an opportunity to pointlessly show off at Easter unlike for the other Christian/pagan holidays. For Christmas at least in America, people rush to have their tree up the fastest in order to post it on FB. To truly celebrate it’s necessary to buy a lot of shit. On All Saints’ Day estranged family members battle to decorate relatives’ graves with foul-smelling candles and flowers. So at the Easter, Poles can demonstrate their good Christianess by having the most noticeable but tasteful Easter picnic basket for Saturday. You have to keep an eye on your basket so some pushy granny won’t knock it away and force her bratty spoiled over-dressed (however the church is cold so it’s excused this time) grandson to put their basket in this great place.

I learnt that the priest really goes all out in blessing the eggs. He just doesn’t sprinkle some holy water on them. With his church brush he showers the eggs as well as the people attending. So how about incorporating this beloved church tradition with Wet Monday? Instead of the soaked church brush, the priest could use a bucket full of water and properly splash all the food and church goers. This would be the cue for a huge waterfight to start in the church. And since a priest would be present, people wouldn’t get carried away and be mean-spirited. Just good harmless fun.

What would happen if more people read this crappy blog Streffa Jeffa? Complaints would be sent to Radio Olsztyn. Then the church would get involved with their protests. This would warrent attention from the crappy Gazeta Olsztyńska and their headline would be “Ratujmy nasz kościół od obcokajowców!” And finally the blog would be popular.

Jeff Taylor