It all happened 1987; I lived in Poland then with my mother, father and my little sister. I was a juvenile, energetic and motivated undergraduate with loads of associates, eventful days and beloved parents. I liked my home city and loved all its inhabitants in my neighbourhood. I wanted to graduate from my college and become a Polish teacher. My boyfriend and I planned a wedding next year and moving closer to my parent's home, as they were ageing and I wanted to lend them a hand more often. I had arranged my future thoroughly, and I was sure that under no circumstances my plans would be altered. And then, I agreed to take up that career only to open my eyes to new people, places and new things to face, which made me understand that I really required something new, and not just a usual living.
During my final college year I wanted to work as an elementary school teacher, but it was almost impossible to get that job. I began to feel depressed, so I decided to accept just any job offer. It was then that my dear old father mentioned Mr. Fogg, his old friend who had just come back from Australia and wanted some help with segregating and organizing various pictures he took during his recent journey. Mr. Fogg had photos from all over the world. Several places were so exotic that I hardly knew they were real. The pictures taken in Thimbu, the capital city of Bhutan, were the most impressive.
Mr. Fogg was utterly exceptional, spontaneous and disorganized but very charming and tolerant, he was a gifted narrator and his catchy stories were packed with vivid details. He intended to put the stories in writing and in the planned book he was going to picture what he experienced when visiting diverse lands. It was my task to proofread and rework his notes. Then I was expected arrange the whole lot and insert the pictures.
The task was really challenging, as the cartons were really upset, his latest photos mixed up with the earlier ones, there were loose notes and it was there that I discovered that photograph album with a beautiful lagoon surrounded by sandy beaches. The water was crystal clear and there were lavish bungalows along the shore. In the background there was a tropical jungle with little huts of the natives. One might sense the tropical heat and brilliance of the air fixed in those snapshots. The trees had an unusually intense dye of green. That place was just an earthly seventh heaven.
I wanted to inquire Mr. Fogg about his album. He replied that those were the pictures of the famous Bikini atoll in southern Pacific. It used to be a lovely place, but then the nuclear tests started. Although all the buildings in the pictures were only mock-up structures, the plants grew stronger than anywhere else. I could hardly believe that life could come back to the site of nuclear tests. Then he told me of his incident with Greenpeace activists who thought that he was a CIA agent, sailing alone, eating raw fish, watching whales that played close to his boat and meeting modern pirates, who proved quite friendly and let him take several pictures of their boat. He told me about the unforgettable places where the visitors get so fascinated that they would never like to leave them. He had a collection of such places himself, but he told me that people should choose for themselves and follow their feelings.
It was then that I totally changed my point of view. I had never planned to go abroad never before would I imagine parting with my parents, acquaintances, my home town and my favourite sites. Just then, as never before I felt a desire to do something new that would follow Mr. Fogg's experience. I asked him to lend me that album and then I read it back at home, as I could not sleep that night. My plan was ready in the morning.
After two years I managed to fulfil my plan. I had to face many hardships but Mr. Fogg's album helped me. Any time I felt depressed, I studied those photos. My dear old father accepted my emigration plans. I have already lived abroad for nineteen years but I have not forgotten my Polish acquaintances that still live there. Any time I think of the album I remember the moment of my fruitful decision.
