10 Dec
I am in Poland! All went smoothly in the airport, and I had more than an hour in the departure lounge, so I propped my feet up on my suitcase and continued writing my letter to Nat, a long overdue Christmas letter which will probably arrive sometime in January.
The airplane took off and we ascended through the first layer of cloud. From my window, it looked like a snow-covered landscape, with white ridges and windswept peaks. No matter how often someone tells me about water vapour and condensation, clouds are and always will be one of nature's greatest miracles to me.
Natalia met me in the airport and we drove off (on the other side of the road) as she told me about how she had forgotten her PIN umber for her Polish card after spending so long in Cambridge, and pointed out ugly grey box-buildings to me which stand out against the gorgeous red-brick of old Gdansk architecture. Built by the communists as fast and as cheaply as possible, Natalia scoffed at how the communist government had been 'so proud of something so shitty'. Many people still live in them though, including Natalia's family before they moved to their new place near the city centre. Communism is such a part of the recent past for Poland and its memory is still talked about. Natalia told me that recently on the radio a girl had told the story about how her father's new camera had been destroyed because he had taken a photo of the army officer's radiator! Her own family has passed down stories of queuing for food rations, including the funny one of her grandfather arriving home with coils of sausage wrapped all around his body because he had luckily been the first in the queue on the day of a new sausage delivery. Because the next delivery was so uncertain, people would buy as much as they could, when they could. Thinking about that uncertainty and scarcity now, when food lines our shelves, seems 'out-of-time' but it was less than forty years ago.
At Natalia's apartment, her grandmother greeted us (Dziendobry) and we also met her dear little dog who is so old that she sneezes instead of barks. We sat down for a (first of many) feast on pierogi, a polish dumpling with various types of stuffing, beetroot borscht (also a polish thing) and lentil dhal (which Natalia's mother had specially prepared because she heard I was vegan).
Because the sun was already setting, we decided to just take a walk around Natalia's place and walk her dog, which is where I saw a most beautiful purpley red, tongues of flame cloud sunset. We climbed a small hill and watched the city in darkness. Gdansk uses yellow (as opposed to white) lights for most of it's street lamps and buildings, which means you see snakes of golden glows tracing a road, or a cluster of them indicating a housing estate.
We managed to squeeze in two hour of worl before dinner, and partway through reading Astrophil and Stella I was very warmly
On the Sopot pier later that night we looked at the lights of Gdansk from another city, as well as the lights of Gydnia which, together with Gdansk and Sopot, make up what people call Tricity. We stopped for tea on the way back, and talked about the refugee situation in Poland. In England sympathy for the refugees is the norm, whereas in Poland, people are more doubtful. They see many refugees as opportunistic rather than desperate, coming to Europe for better jobs and pay - young men who leave their families to take advantage of the great migration. It is such a hard situation to answer - although there certainly must be these opportunists, there must also be the needy and homeless and war-stricken among them, and even if they are in the minority, how can we turn our backs on a fellow human in need? My thoughts on this are in no way politically or economically thought through - for I am a bear of very little brain - but the refugee situation tugs at my heart.
Natalia's mother said letting refugees in indiscriminately would probably lead to a situation similar to when the Americans drove out the Red Indians in today's United States of America. Her concerns are a shadow of fear that many Polish people carry with them, Poland being a country with a history of war and tyranny, and now after a long time enjoying a precarious peace. Natalia's mother talks about 'World War III' as a very imminent reality, perhaps because Poland was the first country invaded in WWII, and the whole Crimea situation...Natalia's mother said that when Natalia was born her first thoughts were 'She looks just like her father!' and then 'I will be worried about her every day of my life now.'
Just before I fell asleep that night I heard a gasp from Natalia and she sat up and exclaimed - 'I remember my PIN number!'
11 Dec
It was a drizzly day of exploring the beautiful city of Gdansk. We went into Uphagen's house first, an ornate 18th century house which has an exhibition on the different sorts of houses and their architecture and ornamentation in the different centuries. The last heir of the house was reported lost in the second World War, and the house is now a museum.
We also popped into many churches, including St Mary's church, the biggest brick church in the world. Because it is not tourist season, it's tower was closed to visitors which was a pity, despite the fact that a climb in that day's grey weather wasn't awfully appealing. I was surprised at how much of a role the church had played in Poland's modern history - Henryk Janikowski was a priest who sided with Solidarity against communists, and involved himself in activities such as smuggling weapons for them! Religion and politics go hand in hand in Poland, but today it is no longer something that is seen as noble, perhaps because the priests are no longer fighting for freedom against a visceral oppressor, but still lace their sermons with politics. Natalia said that many young Polish people are being turned off by the heavily politically charged sermons of some churches, which blatantly instruct their congregations to vote for certain parties or leaders. It is a pity when the word of God gets muddied by the meddling of man.
That evening we went to Mera Spa in Sopot again, and had a body scrub and massage, which was the perfect end to a day of walking. I was so close to sleep that when masseur told me it was done I had to gather the drifting clouds of my brain before I could mumble a very thick 'Ah, thank you'!
12 Dec
We went into the Amber museum first thing after breakfast. I appreciated how the museum told a story as you climbed it's levels - showing first amber in its found state, lumps of amber sometimes with things (like a lizard!) which had been unfortunate enough to get trapped within it, giving us a sort of time capsule view into years and years ago. As you walked up the steep wooden steps of the museum to each new level, you saw how amber, from its found state, can be manipulated into tools, or furniture, craft, jewelry, clothing. Some things were truly beautiful, like a tree crafted out of amber, each gold-red leaf (like the leaves on the way to Sidgwick in autumn) individually crafted and attached by tiny copper bands to the tree branches, so that they could move like real leaves, but I found others unnecessary, even ugly, like the rings of amber on string that was a necklace. I wonder what constitutes beauty - I thought perhaps it must be something uplifting, soul provoking, or at least follow our natural affinity to symmetry and complement, but then there is the question of the beholder...
We also looked at the history of the building, which is an old prison house, and there were exhibitions in a separate wing on the life and torture of the prisoners in its walls. In some windows you could see the carvings of past prisoners, and the torture methods were just so so ghastly and cruel. Yesterday we saw the old Gdansk Post Office, which had been a site of the German invasion in WWII, where so many died. It seems that humans never manage to stop being cruel.
After the Amber Museum we went to the Solidarity Centre, where a reconstruction of the strikes which took place in the Gdansk shipyard was being held. They used old military trucks, uniforms and even imitated the rationing system, with one civilian having rolls and rolls of toilet paper slung around her!
After watching the reproduction, we entered the solidarity centre and walked through its exhibits. We initially intended to spend about an hour there, but that hour turned into three, because it was a very comprehensive and engaging museum. It was laid out so well, showing the beginnings of strikes in the shipyard, and the men and women integral in sowing the seeds of solidarity before moving onto different presentations of solidarity in arts, media, religion and sport, and then the terrible years of martial law, and the final break through with the round table talks.
Perhaps the strongest impression you have leaving the solidarity centre is one of hope. It is a testament to People Power, how a generation could unite, rise together and (in the word's of Jean Paul) 'bear one another's burdens' to effect change. Oddly, the communist mantra 'Workers of the World Unite' came true - in solidarity, and spelled the end of communism as the Velvet revolutions began and the communist bloc in Eastern Europe crumbled. The exhibition ended with a large board of red and white paper spelling out Solidarity in Polish. Every little slip of paper had something written on it, in various languages, most expressing the need for unity and love. The room also had a large sort-of maze with the UN declaration of human rights written on it in various languages. How we have failed our predecessors' hopes and dreams for a world no longer plagued by war. There is always war - there are dinner table wars between families, there are classroom wars between children, there are drone wars, shrapnel wars, heartbreak wars, climate change wars, everything is fighting for its place here, and the thing is that, in fighting against each other, we are all losing. Written large on some of the paper pinned up were the words 'ONE LOVE'. Humankind already shares one love, which is the love of self. If we could only direct that to a higher love.
Think about it, there must be higher love
Down in the heart and in the stars above,
Without it, life is wasted time.
Look inside your heart, I'll look inside mine
Things look so bad everywhere
In this whole world, what's fair?
We walk blind and we try to see
Falling behind in what could be. (Higher Love - James Vinent Mcmorrow)
13 Dec
It snowed on the way to Torun apparently, but I slept in the coach on the way there and didn't manage to catch it! Natalia, her friend Agata, and I were spending the day in Torun, a nearby city to Gdansk, and good thing too because the weather in Gdansk that day was forecast to rain all day, while Torun was going to be mercifully dry!
Agata's uncle met us at the Torun bus station, and brought us on a walking tour round the city, pointing out the idiosyncrasies and defining characteristics of the city he was born and bred in.
Some of my favourites were:
1. This fountain, which is a Polish spin on the Pied Piper of Hamlin. A fiddler solved Torun's terrible plague of frogs by hypnotising them with his beautiful music and leading them out of the city!
2. The surprising sculptures of people which would top walls and roofs of houses.
3. The 'leaning tower of Torun', a building in its brick wall which tilted to its side. It is said that if you manage to balance against it back of feet and body and head touching the wall, you'll have good luck! Natalia and I tried but weren't successful, although Natalia cleverly figured out that she could use her umbrella as a prop!
4. A 3D map of the city for blind people which was cast from metal melted down from keys donated by the people of the city.
After that, we visited a musuem and climbed a tower where we saw beautiful Torun from a very gusty view. Lunch was at a famous place which sold oven-baked pierogi. Usually I only put the photos I think have turned out well in this space, but despite the terrible yellow light on the pierogi, they are too good not to show:
I had potato and onion as well as sauerkraut and mushroom stuffed perogi, and three of them (after a mug of borscht) was surprisingly enough to make me happily full! They were incredible, real soul food, and a place I would certainly go to again. Natalia insisted on paying for Agata and I, and although we both tried to refuse, she insisted.
This seems like a good place to introduce you to the concept of Polish hospitality:
It must be one of the best in the world, because since coming here, I have been so wonderfully taken care of and just lavished with kindness. N and her family will not let me pay for anything if I can help it, cooked special vegan food for me before I got there (and so much of it! They say that before I go back to England they will stretch my stomach!), gave me a bed to sleep in and a warm coat to wear (they laughed at the one I brought over, calling it a sweater not a coat!) The whole family makes an effort to speak English to me and even to each other when I am there, and include me in their conversations and jokes. Their kindness is so overwhelming and humbling.
And so it was in the name of Polish hospitality that Natalia insisted she paid for our pierogi, although Agata said indignantly, with the sweetest malapropism, 'You don't need to hospitalise me!'
After our pierogi, we went to the gingerbread museum where first we made our own pierniki (mine was a slightly squashed angel) before going on a tour of the history behind pierniki, the ingredients used in it and the way it is made, and how production and marketing has changed throughout the centuries.It was dark by the time we emerged, and so we entered the warmth and light of an ice cream shop where I had blackcurrant sorbet, and then we bought pierniki from a shop Agata's uncle had recommended, before we walked back to the bus station, laughing along the way about how all grandma's - Polish or Chinese - make amazing comfort food and also try to make you eat more than humanly possible!
I went for my first Catholic mass that night in the Benedictine church that Natalia and her family go to. I couldn't recite the things that the congregation were reciting because it was in Polish and also because children in Poland learn those phrases from young, and so it is all recited from memory, without a book or slides or anything. Natalia did translate most of the service and recitations to me, and I was struck by the reverence of their worship. In my church, God is very much like and Father and friend while still being God, but sometimes there is the risk of treating God casually. In this service, God was treated so reverently, with much of what the congregation said meaning 'God we are unworthy to come before you, grant us mercy to come before you.' One man beside me beat his chest with his fist as he spoke, a sign of confession and repentence. The message was about mercy - how just as God forgives us in his mercy, we also then should have mercy on ourselves. That is, we mustn't wallow in despair over our sinfulness and shortcomings , but look back and joyfully see how far God's mercy has pulled us away from the mud and mire of sin. Certainly. we are still sinful, but yet we always rejoice, because Christ has overcome sin! Christianity then is not a dolorous, depressing religion of pessimism and dooms-day sayings, but a hopeful religion, recognising our ills but seeing that God's mercy covers a multitude of sins and will redeem us when he comes again! O Happy Day!
14 Dec
Natalia and I found ourselves back in St Mary's Church again today, this time to meet one of her father's contacts who would let us climb its tower! Not knowing who exactly we were meeting, I envisioned a fluffy white-haired old man with a big bundle of keys for unlocking the tower door. But instead, we were greeted by a young man with tousled hair, who looked stressed and tired and told us he was starving, so before climbing the tower we went to a cafe so he could have something to eat while he also filled us in on the amazing history of the church. I was most interested in how it naturally slipped from being Catholic to Lutheran as the religion of its owners changed, and then went back to being Catholic as a sort of religious revolt against the Protestantism of Prussia.
I was quite terrified of Tomasz Korzeniowski initially, because he asked me many questions which I couldn't answer, including what Joseph Conrad's Polish surname was. (I didn't even know he was Polish!) Apparently it is Korzeniowski - the same as his own, and so I could have been dining with the descendant of Joseph Conrad!
After he had finished, we climbed the 409 steps of the tower and saw first the star and diamond vaults on the chapel ceiling, and then a simply magnificent view of Gdansk from the top of the tower.
Natalia and I walked back along frosty, ice encrusted pavements and had some pierogi before heading out to Westerplatte. But first, we had to scrape the frost that had frozen on her windscreen in the most stunning feather patterns.
This sign said 'Never Ever War', and led to the memorial monument built to remember all the places first struck by the Germans in World War II. As Natalia and I walked back, we tried to slide on every ice puddle we found, and Natalia showed me the little white berries she would pluck and jump on as a child, because they made a very satisfying 'pop! sound. We jumped and slid and laughed and had just maybe fifteen minutes ago walked out of the garrison because we felt like it would collapse on us. The world moves on fast from its tragedies.
We tried to catch the sunset on Stogi beach but with such quick days we just missed it, but enjoyed dusk on the cold cold beach as we crunched along half frozen sand and I tasted Baltic water for the first time - it isn't salty! The baltic sea is vast and dark and fathomless in its fathoms upon fathoms. Apparently in the very deepest winter and coldest frosts, the sea can freeze, and people can walk on its waters!
15 Dec
Natalia's mother told me about moving from the country to the city of Gdansk for her medical training, meeting her husband, and feeling homesick, as we drove to the airport. As we drove we also realised that the little raindrops that had been falling when we set out were now instead little pieces of snow falling, and she pulled over and told me to get out and have my first ever taste of falling snow! She's so wise and so loving, and I felt sad when I gave her a last hug goodbye in the airport.
The snow was falling more heavily when I walked from the departure hall to the airplane, heavy enough not to melt when it fell on and tickled my nose and eyelashes and coat. But it was gone by the time I landed back in England.
No comments:
Post a Comment