[wherein I type for five straight minutes stopping only when the timer goes ding]
At 2am, while being carefully driven home in a snowstorm, I learned that my last name is famous.
In Poland. About 300 years ago.
But it was straight from the mouth of a Polish man, and he seemed very sure, so I believe him. Growing up with a Polish last name and a Korean face has occupied a decent amount of mental space.
It’s a common occurance for adoptees – particularly those from Asian countries – who suddenly find themselves part of the York family, or the Capelli family, or the Syzowski family. We’re used to people meeting us and looking confused.
So, I wasn’t able to glean WHY the name Osmanski was famous…I’m left to imagine heroic tales or nefarious doings. Maybe both. Best-case scenario? An Osmanski got famous for making people laugh. You never know.
I asked the driver about Krakow, since when I was a kid I read a wonderful book called The