You know what I love? A fucking festival. And you know which one I love the most? The Polish Festival.
It. Is. Fucking. Rad.
It’s rad for oh, so many reasons. And I like it far more than the Greek Festival, also for oh, so many reasons.
“But Sara” you say, “The Greek Festival has sweet little Greek Grandmas selling pastries!”
“But Sara, The Greek Festival has lamb! And Sausage! And beer!”
Well, the Polish festival has delicious kielbasa and perogies, not to mention the most amazing potato pancakes this side of my house! So there.
“But Sara, I can’t get drunk and act like a big asshole like at the Greek Festival.”
That’s okay, Chad, you go to the Greek Festival. Drink some beer, embarrass your mother by christening the narthex of the lovely Greek Orthodox Church with urine, shout some expletives regarding the sexual proclivities of the Greeks.
I’ll be drinking Honey wine at the Polish Festival. (They have an impressive selection of beer too, but I’m a lady.)
The Polish Festival also has, hands down, one of the best collections of ethnic music groups at any festival in Portland. The polka band in the community hall is amazingly high energy, considering that they play for the dancers for something like 6 hours.
And on the outdoor stage there is a rotating series of groups ranging from children’s choirs, traditional music and folk dancers to the local favorite Chervona who rip up the stage for several hours on the Saturday night of the festival. This year they were no disappointment. The crowd, which included surprisingly few hipsters and loads of Polish families and older couples) didn’t stop moving for 2 hours as Chervona wailed their gypsy-punk into the September night.