The person who did stay in my mind, for a long time, was ciocia Basia’s husband, wujek Marian. Wujek Marian had married into the family (obviously) and when I first met him at the age of eleven I was scared of his dog. 

As an aside, before I discovered that I’m somewhat of a dog and cat whisperer, I used to be petrified of dogs I didn’t know. More than my first interaction with a dog, I remember my mother simulating a dog grabbing me by the buttocks while telling me, “oh look that dog’s gonna bite you” whenever we saw one off its leash or just walking up. It took a lot of friends and a lot of patience on their part to get me over that fear, despite dog sitting gigs and wanting to adopt a dog from a shelter. What turned it around completely in the end was riding a tram with two acquaintances and their dog and having one of them tell me, “she usually hates riding the tram. I’ve never seen her this calm.” All I’d done was pet their dog, but that moment sealed it for me. Dogs didn’t just like me, they trusted me. And so did cats.

But back when wujek Marian had his dog – a fox terrier named Cora – I was still scared and the dog being his didn’t help, even if he let her into my room so she could put her paws up and lick me awake. 

Wujek Marian was of the old Russian school of “what makes you weak should be exploited – by others. “ My mother didn’t like him, but to be fair, the older she got the more people she hated, and she’d never really liked that many to begin with. Add to that that she had me really late in life, so plenty of time to build up resistance to liking people  

Even so I don’t think we would have been friends  Where wujek Zbyszek would drop a very subtle remark here and there, wujek Marian was very open with his disdain for anyone colored  I think I only heard wujek Zbyszek say once that he himself looked black and even then it was him confirming other people’s comments on his tan  Needless to say, the word used is a racial slur everywhere but is still used liberally in Poland, Hungary and Finland and all too frequently with way too much glee  

As an 11-year-old I really wasn’t overly aware of racial tensions. I knew that plenty of Germans considered Turks to be the scum of the earth and this included way more Germans than would willingly admit to it. I intuited, more than I sensed, that even though I was largely able to fly under the radar in Germany, something about me was still problematic, and since I basically sounded – and acted – as though I was raised by Germans deeply rooted in literature and stage (and who had been intimately acquainted with Klaus Mann) but could easily switch into the local dialect when someone my age spoke it to me, it had to be my face. My dad’s friend, Frank, was black but it only registered because his was the only black face amidst a sea of white faces when my father picked us up at Frankfurt airport. I’m pretty sure that something in me reminded Frank of his own little sister and his presence, as an American combined with his understanding and kindness made me declare him my godfather then and there. 

Wujek Marian would have known about my father’s heritage (and my mother’s), but I never heard him say a word about that. What he did speak about with every chance that presented itself, was any man who did not look Polish and in fact looked black. I remember being in his living room with him watching some sports event my mother said was the equivalent of Communist Olympics. We were in that room because it doubled as his and ciocia Basia’s living room and had a TV. My grandparents were living and sleeping in the dining room while my mother and I had graciously been awarded ciocia Basia’s and wujek Marian’s bedroom. My mother’s mantra was to always play nice (especially when you want something) and to appease the people offering you services.  So like with my father, I had to talk to the enemy, “lest they kick us out.” So I had to sit with him and listen to his commentary on various athletes  

There are people who will say that wujek Marian was soul kin and his presence in my life served to teach me a lesson. If that’s true then I must have been really connected to my family in previous lifetimes and the lesson is to learn to stand on my own two feet he certainly did a stellar job alienating me from everyone. But at the same time I always hoped I’d convert him, to think like a normal person, someone with a heart.