It was April 1st of 2024, and, for the first time in my life, I didn’t care that it was April Fools. There were bigger fish to fry… Speaking of Fish Fries, there was no more need for them, because, this year, April 1st marked the end of Lent. And in a predominantly Catholic area, that calls for celebration in all of the forms. But there was one form that I hadn’t yet heard of…
Dyngus Day.
An international (yet Americanized) holiday dedicated to polka music, pierogi, Polishness, & pussy willows. And as it turns out, Buffalo, NY, houses the largest celebration out there & has become the epicenter for all-things Dyngus Day. Surprised? Not really. Buffalo is weird. Dyngus Day is weird. I’m weird. It was destined for greatness from the start.
*note that “weird” has a terrific connotation in this scenario (and any other scenario I use it in)
So, you’re probably thinking yourself: “Delaney, I still don’t understand what this holiday’s deal is.” And I’m here to tell you that, after partaking in the Poles’ post-Lent festivities, I’m still a bit hazy on the matter as well. But fret not, because upon doing some research, it appears everyone is at least a little disoriented & confused on the origins, purpose, & structure behind the holiday. Here’s a bulleted list of what we do know, so I don’t have to give you a snore-fest of a history debrief:
- Dyngus Day dates back to 966 A.D.
- It was originally called Smigus Dyngus & is known in Polish as Lany Poniedziałek (translates to “Wet Monday” [will explain later]).
- Some claim it to be a celebration of Poland’s Christianization.
- Others claim it to have no religious origins, thus starting as a commemoration of spring & courtship.
- I claim to have no claim, so I can stay out of religious & cultural controversy 🙂
- Dyngus Day surfaced in America back in the 60s when the American Polish community wanted to get more in touch with their Polish roots.
- Apparently, Robert Kennedy once attended during his political campaigning back in ’68.
Alright, that’s all I’ve got stored in the history tank for the day. It feels like there’s everything, yet nothing riding on my words. Kudos to the history teachers that have to speak about facts that they never witnessed as a livelihood. Stresses me out when everything you teach is a “you had to be there” scenario & none of you were actually there to prove it. Now that we’ve established that I could never handle the role of a history teacher, here comes another bulleted list, this time with Dyngus Day traditions & fun facts:
- On the first day (the Monday following Easter), it’s tradition for the boys to take a pussy willow (the first plant to bloom, celebrating & symbolizing spring), go up to a girl they fancy, and wack them with it. So romantic. Good to know chivalry’s not dead. Then the day after, if the girl likes them back, they return the favor. So, it’s basically like Tinder, except instead of swiping right to show interest, you just hit your crush upside the head with a branch.
- Squirt guns. I’m still not entirely sure why but prepare to get soaked! I saw this joker with a homemade water gun made out of a 2-liter, Mountain Dew bottle. Watch your back. It’s called Wet Monday for a reason.
- “Alice (Who the Hell Is Alice)” — I heard this song probably 10x that day, and it never got old, because every time the chorus came on, the Polish heritage would bubble up within everyone in earshot (even if they weren’t Polish) & erupt out of them in unison, creating a slightly tipsy, yet unified rendition of this polka classic. It’s as if the cash-only, dive bar were their cathedral in those moments. Also, in case you were wondering, the song has nothing to do with being Polish besides being in the polka genre. It’s about a guy that lived next door to this girl Alice for 24 years & he never had the guts to admit he had a thing for her. Maybe should’ve gotten the guy a pussy willow. Regardless, the song is completely irrelevant, yet infectious.
- Sidenote: I’m 1/8th Polish, and you best believe I milked that 8th for everything it was that day.
- Attire is red & white.
- You will see flamingo gear (I’m still not positive why).
I’m not sure if you’ve wrapped your head around the erratic nature of the day yet, but the main gist is to celebrate the closing of Lent in Polish-ish fashion. Think of it as a Polish, reverse Mardi Gras (America’s Version). But even if you don’t have a drop of Eastern European in your body, you‘ll still be welcomed to come out & have a good time with open arms. I danced with this one girl who had a shirt that said, “0% Polish,” and she was the life of the party. All it takes to be a part of the day is a pleasant, appreciative attitude, then you’re automatically engulfed by the sea of red and white.
Wanna hear my highlight reel from the day? No? That’s alright, it was rhetorical, and I was gonna tell you anyway:
- The fact that I watched an entire parade & couldn’t identify any sort of common theme between the floats (besides the red & white, of course) was beyond me.
- There was one float chucking boxes of General Mills cereal at the crowd, one with guys dressed up as beer bottles, spraying everyone with keg water, & one with a guy, flying solo, riding on top of a pickup truck shouting “let’s go Buffalo!” No cohesion whatsoever, but that’s nothing new for this city.
- This lady I got to talking to broke off a piece of her pussy willow for me to make sure I had one.
- Limboing. “Under what?” you may ask. A pussy willow branch, duh.
- Honestly, let’s call it how it is. I think the concept of pussy willows as a whole just really resonated with me.
- The pierogi. *drools in Polish* I had actually never had one before today, so this was groundbreaking for me. Maybe even pivotal in my story…
- Old couples dancing & looking at each other like there was no one else in the room.
- Polka music — it’s basically just an entire genre of music that makes me feel like the onomatopoeia “boing”. Almost like a grown up, ongoing, less techno version of “The Gummy Bear Song”. So sorry to all who took offense to that statement.
- The scientists say different types of music have different chemical effects on our brains, and I don’t know what they were mixing together when they created the polka genre, but there’s something in the chords that triggers a part of your brain that sends you into a state of hypnosis, causing you to link arms with the person next to you & skip around in circles. It’s chemical, biological, magnetic, & downright unexplainable. But it’s rooted in scientific evidence (me do-si-do-ing with randos).
The concoction of all the arbitrary, little things made for an unexpected day, unraveling in whatever direction & manner it pleased. Those are my favorite kind of days — the ones with no expectations or timetable, letting one moment lead to the next. But as much as I loved the continuous micro-doses of excitements & happenings, a wise man once said,
“A painting is more than the sum of its parts”
Thus meaning, having all of the components of the painting separate (the music, the food, the parade, etc), added together, & totaled means next to nothing, because it’s not fully about how great each piece of the painting is on its own. It’s about the underlying, unifying thread that weaves it all together into one, cohesive masterpiece. That unspoken theme or feeling is what gives the painting purpose & true value. And with that statement fresh on the mind, I’ll leave you with my final & favorite Dyngus Day deep dive:
While the bits & pieces of the day added up to a collection of good times & stories, the best part of Dyngus Day was how everyone around me suddenly became family. I know, it seems dramatic & I’m making a D-lister holiday deeper & more philosophical than it is. What’s new? But you had to be there. Sure, it was just a day, but it was wholesome & joyful & happy & somehow, I ended up feeling safe & looked after by a rambunctious swarm of strangers. There was no elbowing to get to the front of the pierogi line. There were no rules on who could & couldn’t twirl you around. There wasn’t even a need to be Polish. There was simply an abundance of love, unity, & folks that wanted to celebrate alongside their neighbors. And, for that, I believe Dyngus Day to be a masterpiece, because it seemed to run much, much deeper than just the sum of its parts.