One of the
main managers knew Jarek and Monika Siech from theatre work they had done in
Bydgoszcz. He was able to offer them the opportunity to help “sell” the
apartments/hotel rooms to the investors who were coming the following day,
before the actual grand opening. There were two apartments that the investors
would be shown and our job was to act as though we were living in these rooms.
This was
probably one of the most random, interesting, awkward experiences of my life.
Monika and Jarek dressed as mimes and moved about one apartment as a married
couple. Kinga, Carman, and I were dressed in our doll costumes and were to
pantomime a family in the second apartment. Carman was the father, Kinga our
dancing daughter, and I, of course, was the mother.
We arrived in
Międzyzdroje around noon the day
before our actual “performance,” so we got to explore a bit, walk the beach a
little bit, and wait for Monika and Jarek to be finished with their meeting
with all the bigwigs of the Golden Tulip. It was a fairly enjoyable day except
for the fact that my immune system was still trying to conquer a nasty little
sickness that had hit me the day before, so I was basically sleepwalking my way
through the sightseeing. I was overjoyed when we were able to get into the
rooms that we would be staying in for the night. I was in and out of sleep from
the moment we found our rooms and I plopped myself on the comfortable, never
before slept on bed. Pillows surrounded me and it was glorious.
One of the
few times I was out of sleep was for the group meeting to explain what exactly
was expected of us. While eating our Polish pizza, we were informed, by Jarek
and Monika, of every little detail on how we were to act. If we did one thing
that some of the top managers did not like, our mutual understanding with the
hotel (since we were not given a written contract) could be terminated. With
this knowledge, we realized there was a lot of practice and particulars we
would have to go through, but that night, to my relief, we decided to just
enjoy our slightly unfinished rooms and rest.
The next
morning, with me feeling somewhat better, we gathered together for a Bible study
and then spent quite a bit of time getting ready for that afternoon. We got
acquainted with the apartments we would be showing and worked out the little
kinks in our doll movements. The thing I struggled with the most was only
interacting with the Dar members and
never responding to the audience that would be coming through. This was
difficult because we were told that we were only an enhancement to show off the
perks that came with the rooms and were not to be distractions. This meant, we
were not to respond to anything besides each other, but we were also not to be
rude and ignore the investors. The line between playing our part and ignoring
was difficult one to figure out.
With all our
makeup and costumes on we waited anxiously in our separate apartments. Where
Carman, Kinga, and I waited, there were also three others: two waitresses of
sorts and one bartender, for the hotel had set up a bar on the balcony. We all
stood in the living area chatting, but ready to scramble to our posts as soon
as we would hear the elevator “ding.” I don’t remember how many false alarms we
had.
The first
group of investors came through the doors very loudly. They were all English
speakers, though it was obvious that for most of them it wasn’t their first
language. I spent the first few minutes of their tour in the bathroom doing
short doll like movements that would point out different features and then
pausing. After showing off the towel heating rack and the other fancy things I
would walk into the kitchen and pretend to pour tea for my “husband.” It was
basically all improve from there on. The groups would stay anywhere from 15-30
minutes in the apartments, and I would have to move, pause, not respond, smile,
move pause, and figure out my next move, while trying not to do the same thing
over and over again. Thankfully, most of the investors tended to enjoy their
time at the bar more than spending the whole time exploring the apartment.
This first
group also held one of the most awkward moments I have ever had. I was paused
by the dishwasher in the kitchen, looking down at the teacup I had just placed
in it, when an older gentleman approached. Trying not to respond to his obvious
nearness I was staring as intently as I could when the gentleman grabbed my
hand in his. He started to speak to me with a French accent, and since I
assumed this was not one of those times I could ignore the guests, I looked at
him in response. As our eyes met, he stepped back slightly taken aback.
“Your eyes,”
he exclaimed, “They are so blue! They are perfect! They are blue! I am French.
”
It was my
turn to be somewhat taken aback, and not knowing what to do I just smiled and
nodded my head slightly.
Still holding
my hand, he continued praising my eyes and commenting about how he was French.
When the only response I could think to give him was the nodding of my head and
the pleasant-June-Cleaver smile, he just squeezed my hand and said with a
knowing smile, “I understand, it’s okay. I am French.”
It was one of
the longest two minutes of my life, but thankfully the tour leader announced
that it was time to leave. With one last squeeze the Frenchman let go of my
hand and walked out the door. Once every last investor was gone I was free to
laugh and shake off the awkwardness. Kinga, seeing a little of what had
happened came to me laughing as well. After that, the rest of the evening
seemed to be rather uneventful, though, I’m not sure if I’ve ever had so many
random people take pictures of me.
Thinking back
to this time of unusual and unexpected opportunity for provision, I realize
that living this life is never boring. I never know what to expect from the
things God calls me to do. It reminds me that His ways are higher than mine,
and with a past as strange and awesome as I’ve got thus far in life, it only
makes me even more wary and excited for the future.
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