TASHY TRAVELS

Every Sunday, I am going to upload a post about the different countries I have visited and/or lived in since 2002.

I can assure you of some interesting stories.

POLAND - PART ONE

I lived in Poland from March 2002 until March 2004. I wrote regularly about my time there and I have decided, as the first of my travel blogs, to split all these writing into 4 parts, which will appear weekly from 4 September 2016.

The first post is about the lead up to Christmas in 2002, my first Polish Christmas.

18 December 2002

Unlike the trend that has been taking place in England since I’ve been celebrating Christmas, the Poles still wait till December before decorations appear and shops begin to sell traditional Christmas goods. As for their houses, I have yet to see any which take on the appearance of a lighted amusement arcade as seems to happen so often these days back home. In fact Christmas seems to be more subtle here and hence more beautiful, more meaningful and, to me at least, more acceptable.

Being in Poznan, a city of over 500,000 people, much of the accommodation I have come across is the drab, austere but very functional apartment blocks, which were built under the communist regime in the mid to early seventies. There are houses in a form recognisable in the western world but these are few and far between and even they seem less colourful than those in England.

On a cold, pre-Christmas morning these apartment blocks remind me of the Pete Seeger song, Little Boxes. Whilst, perhaps, not made out of ticky, tacky, they do all look the same and at seven o’clock in the morning, little lights dot around the buildings as people wake up and get ready for work.

But back to the Christmas celebrations and this is, as everyone will tell you, a time for children or, to be slightly more cynical, a time for you to spend some money on children. All over the Christian world, schools will put on some sort of nativity play. This morning, my girlfriend and I were invited to one at the Music Academy.

The Academy is a school for pupils who have a gift for, or a desire to play, music so you can see it is well named. The main part of the school is for children from 11 to 18, but there is a junior section for pupils from 6 and a kindergarten for the very young. The school concert hall has great acoustics, seating for about 1,000 and, after taking my seat, I was delightfully informed by a young lady of 6 that she was studying the piano and could count to ten in English. This she proceeded to demonstrate; the counting that is. Pianos, even in Poland, are too big to be carried around by a 6 year old.

The performance I watched was a standard new nativity. It took the story of the birth of a special child on a winter’s night into a family atmosphere and had the usual cast of angels, who, halfway through, forgot their role and had to wave to mummy and then nudge their fellow angel to point out where mummy was. Most of the school watched and many of the other roles were taken by members of staff who all received loud applause when they entered the stage. The atmosphere was friendly and enjoyable but I was not prepared for what happened at the end.

After the performance a priest came on stage and read from the Bible. My Polish is pretty miserable but the words Caesar Augustus immediately made me think that he had definitely said something about a decree going out and the words Bethlehem and Joseph confirmed the piece he was reading. He finished with a prayer and a carol, all children of all ages knowing all the words, and then a young girl came round with a decorated basket containing rectangular wafers of bread. I am not Catholic but it was explained to me that this was the equivalent of the bread used in a mass to represent the body of Christ but was larger and had different decorations baked into it.

As people took their wafers ,they began to crowd around the stage and exchange kisses and hugs. As they did so they would offer their wafers to someone who would break off a small piece and eat it, then reciprocate the gesture. Teachers and pupils, priests and teachers, pupils and pupils were all together in an incredible atmosphere of friendship and joy. There was no division between people. The director of the school had a long queue of pupils waiting to share a greeting with him and for over three quarters of an hour he broke wafers, greeted, and wished a happy Christmas to each waiting pupil.

I, too, greeted him and was also offered to share a piece of my wafer with the priest who, smilingly but hesitantly, in faltering English, wished me a Happy Christmas and a good New Year. It was delightful and very moving. Simple, yet it said so much about the culture of this proud yet so often war-torn nation. Whatever happens when Poland joins the EU, (remember I wrote this before 2004) they must not lose traditions like this nor must they change an education system that caters for the gifted as well as the average and does not attempt to bring those of a higher level down to that average or even below for the sake of trying not to let anyone feel a failure.

The so-called non-gifted are not failures; they are different, need different teaching and will end up with a different role in life. Differences should be encouraged not hidden and it is strange to see this happening in a former communist regime. Teachers keep telling me how they admire our British education system. I tell them, ‘yes the one we had before the 1970’s was good wasn’t it and so much like yours now, although without these special music and technology schools. They seem quite bemused when I tell them their system is about 40 years behind us and they should keep it like that; we’ll be back there soon. Maybe after deciding to teach phonics again, we will realise that grammar is useful too. It may stop the flow for a while but is there any point in flowing in unintelligible prose.

After the concert ended, and most pupils went home, we went to one of the many practice rooms in the school and, together with one pupil, put the music to a song I had written for the project we have been working on here. The guy was incredibly talented, patient and managed still to be smiling after two hours of work and having to listen to me sing. Then, quite independently, he offered to record the song on Friday before he would be playing in the school orchestra concert that night. He played percussion there, the keyboard for me but could play almost every other instrument except the harp. Anyway, harpists are always female, aren’t they?

19 December 2002

I came to Poznan last January. It was cold, several inches of packed snow on the ground, but it was a new experience to me and it was exciting. After all I knew Poland was cold; it’s near Russia, isn’t it? It would, then, be stating the obvious to say that winters in Poland are cold. However, having now been here through a summer and experienced weather conditions as hot if not hotter than those in the UK, I suppose it does need to be stated.

My daily journey from the place where we were living into the city of Poznan itself took us across the River Warta and in the last week or so the normal flow of the river has included small ice islands, dotted like lily pads across the surface. To me, not quite old enough to have seen the Thames freeze up in London, it’s another new experience.

I should point out that, despite this cold, Poznan has a very efficient public transport system with tramcars criss-crossing the entire city, as well as a bus service. As motorists are not supposed to drive down the tram-tracks the journey by tram is not only cheap, three zloty or about 50p will take you for a one hour ride, but also quick, avoiding all the traffic jams of cars and lorries.

Another myth I had about Poland was also exploded shortly after my arrival. I had expected a city drab and dirty with many poor people, probably dressed as peasants, and long queues in the shops for bread, meat and everyday supplies. Of course it was like this; I mean Poland is near to Russia, isn’t it? Imagine my surprise when I discovered not only a Tesco supermarket, in itself not high on my list of cultural discoveries, but also plenty of small shops amply filled with all manner of produce. Maybe I’m old-fashioned, no, correction, I am old-fashioned, but the sight of small shops doing good business filled me with pleasure and nostalgia. Yes there are big supermarkets and yes the Poles do shop there, but the small shopkeeper is alive and well and living in Poland (or was in 2002).

In the block where we live, within five minutes walk of the apartment, there are at least five butchers, four greengrocers, at least half a dozen mini-supermarkets, three chemists, two bakers, three fishmongers, two solariums, I never said all the summer was hot, and, according to my son who is acting as proof-reader, probably a Partridge in a Pear Tree. Oh, and a couple of Internet cafés, of which there seem to be hundreds in the centre of Poznan.

Anyway, the reason I mention this now is that in recent days I have noticed that the pile of vegetables outside the many small greengrocer shops has vanished or is at least much depleted. My questions reveal that this is almost entirely due to the freezing weather and the inability of farmers to harvest fresh vegetables in such conditions. So, in a way, Poland does suffer from its geographical position. I mean it’s so close to Russia, isn’t it? The cold weather in the winter produces the type of scarcity I had expected from economic conditions not geographical.

Today, there is a thin covering of snow on the ground and as we take a taxi to another meeting, the driver tells me that he hopes for a white Christmas. Surprising because I thought white Christmases’ were only wished for by those who didn’t have them and those that did wanted the snow to disappear. Taxis, like trams, are also plentiful in Poznan and a journey across the city, taking 10-15 minutes will cost you less than £2. And for those interested, and I apologies for connecting drinking and driving, not allowed in Poland either, but beer is as little as 80p a pint or even 50p for a can. Now can you see why I am here?

Anyway this covering of snow has made no difference to life in Poznan. No, seriously, the trains still run and the roads have been gritted and so too have some of the pavements. Seriously, you see they knew it might snow at Christmas time and were prepared. I mean it is near Russia, isn’t it?

20 December 2002.

I must find out how the Polish lottery is doing. Have their sales slumped in the way that I have read those in England have? The reason I say this is because they have a lottery draw each night. Nine thirty, every night, a brief lottery programme breaks into the schedules of Polsat TV. Twice a week there is the Duzy Lotek, or Big Lotto, pick 6 numbers from 49, sounds familiar, doesn’t it? I wonder who thought of it first. But every night they have Multi-Lotek where they draw 20 numbers and you can choose how many you pick up to ten. Get 10 out 10 and you win 100,000 times your stake, 5 out 10 and you win twice your stake. But you could choose just seven numbers and then seven out of seven would give you 2,500 times your stake and five would give you ten times. I think Einstein may have been Polish, Um,Um Ulm, maybe not. Anyway the permutations and statistical possibilities of choosing the most likely way to win are endless but it does seem that you can win most times, but not very much.

Tonight I combined both ends of the musical scale having been invited to the end-of-term concert by the director of the Music Academy and then going on to attend one of the all-night weekend house, techno or whatever parties to which my girlfriend is almost addicted. I must admit that the venue for each also reached both ends of the architectural scale as well. The concert was held in the University Concert Hall, an imposing building with, it seemed, seating for at least a thousand. The concert was, as you would expect, professional with invited performers and members of the school performing a selection of works. The performances were polished, I’ve been desperate to use that phrase since I started writing these diaries, and it put a lovely sheen on the evening and I could probably wax on about how enjoyable it was.

The young man who had helped orchestrate my song came over to me in the interval and, despite his faltering command of English, struck up a conversation with me. I now know he has been at the school for three years; lives, along with about one hundred other students, in a hostel at the school, and expects to be at university for five years, although he is going to try and do the course in four which he said was possible. He's not done badly, I guess. If he ever reads this, I have more songs when you're ready lad.

Check him out here and here.

It is quite interesting to see the attitude to speaking and understanding English among Polish people. Most young people seem to have taken English at school and many will try and talk to you. But the older ones, and here older is from about 35 onwards will, when asked, say no they do not speak but, after a few minutes with my girlfriend translating, I notice that they do actually understand almost every word but are just too frightened or shy to speak it. Oh the lack of inhibitions in the young.

This neatly brings me to the second part of my evening, the house party. Held in a building not unlike how I would imagine Waterloo Station during the Blitz, this evening also demonstrates the lack of inhibitions in the young. Now, I have been attending these little soirées since I got here, aren’t I a little trendy, and the average age is about 20, so maybe I look at things with just a little too much maturity. However the style of dancing is – interesting. Actually, dancing may be the wrong word, how about bobbing up and down with a lot of waving of arms? Yes that’s it. They all learnt this while trying to swim and just to prove this point some people wear short, white gloves so that in the event of their drowning, they can be easily found. Seriously, it is a vast culture with the young here, probably it is in England too but I was less trendy there, with parties every weekend going on from 10 or 11 in the evening until dawn.

How many of the people actually realise that fact is questionable. There is a drug culture in Poland, as there seems to be in many western societies, but there are also people who come here for the music and dancing, sorry bobbing. Alcohol is cheap but surprisingly, I suppose, you don’t see much drunkenness and very little aggression so maybe bobbing up and down and waving for six hours gets rid of aggression. I tend to keep fairly still believing I look pretty stupid doing the waltz, very stupid at cha cha, samba level and just downright ridiculous at any other music and movement time. Although I do admit that sometimes I wonder even if I tried the waltz here, could I look any stranger than my new young friends?

Notes made in Christmas 2003

Since I wrote that I have become a little bit of a fixture on the Poznan clubbing scene. Despite three months away this year while in Australia, people still recognise me and come up and talk. The weird thing is that they are all so young and I am all so old, well nearly all, a few bits are still quite young but getting older each day now. I suppose they can see that I accept them and so they likewise will accept me. Maybe having a beautiful younger girlfriend helps too, as it always seems to be young men who approach me. What I have learned is that the drug culture is not quite as endemic as I first thought and there are several who have told me they have now given it up. However, these are young men about the age of 19, which, sadly, says a lot. There are others who have shown amazement that I can actually enjoy these parties without a drug and stay awake till 5 in the morning. Do they realise that I have actually enjoyed my entire life without a drug or indeed a cigarette? Not one cigarette. Ever.

21 December 2002.

The shortest day and, having got to bed at 4 am, we decided to make it just that. I stayed in the flat all day, apart from a short visit to the shops this morning. I still can’t find a turkey but since I can’t remember how Delia makes bread sauce maybe I won’t bother. Tomorrow I shall go and look for Christmas crackers, the pudding, brandy sauce and – oh dear, I think I’m missing something. After all, this will be my first Christmas away from family and, indeed, out of England. Still I have the best of company and it will all be so new. In a strange way I can’t wait. John Denver expressed things so well in his song Christmas like a Lullaby.

Written in note form on 21 December 2003.

Wow, wasn’t I talkative last year? Try and keep me quiet now. So much has happened in these last twelve months that I could not have even imagined. This time last year had seen us just make a demo version of the song I wrote and by February we had actually recorded it, several times. We had the of a local radio station, Radio Merkury, and they gave us their studio for three days for free. Then Pawel, who arranged the tune, got together musicians from the school plus some singers and, hey presto, we had a song. Being nice people they also let me record a version too.

We also made three pilot TV programmes. You see, we want this whole project to be a real multi-media one and, at the moment, putting video on a website isn’t too practical but I’m sure one day it will be (little psychic aren’t I?). So we want to be ready. The three programmes we made looked at cookery and customs in Poland, how people live and a rather twisted view that I had formed of life in Poznan called “A Potty(ed) Guide to the World”. The cookery one was great fun because we made it live in a working restaurant called Bazanciarnia, here in Poznan. The second one, called “Living As….” saw us spending a day living as two separate families. One lived in a tower block in the city and the other in a 200-year-old cottage in the country. It was a weird experience trying to be someone else and see how he or she feels.

The final programme is just a short ten minute one and we may put it on our site. Just in case we do, I will tell you nothing about it except to say that I found out that Poland is really a growing nation, but it is growing far too fast.

Coming back to what we have done, in October of this year, we held a concert celebrating or even inaugurating our project publicly here in Poznan. Once again we were helped by the Music Academy who let us use their hall. We were able to show the work that the Poznan schools have done and have a bit of fun. It was a great evening with lots of different singers including some pupils from the British School in Poznan who performed a rap song that I wrote. And they let me do it with them. This allowed me to find employment as Christmas approached; cue pathetic joke. Yes, I became A Christmas (w)rapper. I didn’t say you had to like it but it is my present (get it, Christmas present)joke. I have others. You may think I’m crackers but if I can keep myself stable, shepherd my talents, I cradle intentions to become a star. All I need is a good man(a)ger. Alright the last one was pushing it a bit but the rest were pure gold, filling you with myrth (ah). Oh, and I cribbed these from no-one.

After this (the concert not my jokes), two TV companies wanted us to appear on their stations. One wanted us to do a small chat item but the other wanted us to make a documentary about the time since I came to Poland. And we have just finished both of these. I told you, so much has happened. Oh, we have done three radio interviews where my face was much appreciated, wrapped and unwrapped. Although it is most probable that my command of the Polish language precluded me from being interviewed at all.

So, there we are. This Christmas, I have decided to treat my girlfriend and her family to a real Christmas dinner. I have been in on-line contact with Delia Smith, found a turkey, already made a Christmas pudding and home-made mincemeat and I am ready. Watch this space for the reaction. Of course if it goes wrong I will visit them in hospital but I know what I’m doing. Tomorrow, I will make the mince pies.

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