Juwenalia is one of those social reversal
rituals in which the unempowered are empowered, within reason, and the powerful
take some time off. In Kraków this week, the unempowered are university
students, who parade up St. Anne's Street in all manner of costume—no nation,
creed, occupation, race, species, or Polish beer brand goes scantily unmisrepresented—and
pool about a stage on the Rynek where their spokesperson receives the key to
the city until next Friday. Not just the car, the
city, for a week. I wanted to yell, “Don’t take it kids, it’s a
trap!” But
brać is irregular, and I
couldn’t remember its imperfect, imperative form (
To nie brajcie?) or the affectionate, colloquial term for “kids” or
if I should use the vocative, or the word for "trap,"
pułapka, which I've not had need of until today
. I was no help. It’s too late for them. One of their number
walked by me in a T-shirt emblazoned “Sex, drugs, and rock and roll.” Oh, yeah, that'll work.
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| Smurfs, Santa, Nurse, Leprechaun |
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| Silent Majority |
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| Stage |
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| Real Cops, Not Students Convincingly Costumed as Such |
My generation, Dr. Banaś and I, attended Novena this evening, where I got to use zmiłuj się nad nami more than once. We devoted a half hour to Our Lady at the Church of the Dominicans, which has a special chapel for academics, older ones.
